Mind Games
Chapter 2 - Reed
One shot, and $270,000 was his.
If he was being honest he preferred his work up close and personal, but he had other business to attend to. One more night with this guy would put him way off track, so a sniper shot from the sky scraper next to Mr. Reed's law firm would have to service.
There were methods more suited for the task, such as explosives and poisons that would ensure he couldn't be traced-not that he ever was. But Jasper had to see Reed's brains and blood splat along the walls-feel the trigger that launched the killing blow.
What could he say, he loved his job.
Looking through the scope Jasper could see Reed lounging on his red leather sofa. It didn't go with anything in the room. The woods were a soft honey, with ordinary pale yellow walls and white carpet. On second thought nothing in that room coordinated.
Reed pushed himself off the chair and stretched out his round body. He looked down to discover his fly undone and his smug smile widened on his greasy face, remembering the events of 5 minutes ago.
Jasper shuddered as his own played through his mind.
He had to say he had seen a lot of bad sex on the job, but this took the cake. Sure the prostitute had a good rack, but no class-clearly as she had fucked Reed, a balding, overweight, arrogant, married man.
Reed plodded across the room to crack open the window.
Perfect. If Reed sat back on the couch, all Jasper would have to do is reline and the shot would be a perfect blow to the head. It would also rule out a sniper when the police investigated.
Tonight was Jaspers lucky night. Reed sat back on the sofa.
Jasper quickly adjusted his position, took a deep breath that filled his lungs and slowly released it as he pulled the trigger.
Jaspers lips curled up in a half smile as he witnessed Reed's head jerk with the impact of the shot. Blood spat out, creating a pattern of dots and lines as the crimson liquid dripped down the walls and Reed's face, some flooding out of the wound. A nice clean shot he assessed.
Jasper pulled out his phone, typed.
Collecting hit on Reed. Place money in locker 15 at Southern Cross Station by 8am Monday.
Then hit send.
He knew the client would pull through, because let's face it you don't want to piss off an assassin. Particularly one with military training, a determination that defies all odds and a gift not many can comprehend.
Jasper packed up his gear in a duffel bag and walked over to the door that led off the roof. Once down the stairs, he hit the down arrow on the elevator to make his way to the ground level.
He watched the numbers rise, 48, 49, 50, and then the doors whooshed open.
There were two men in the elevator. They stepped out heading to the roof for a smoke, neither one took notice of Jasper. Not because they thought him of no importance, but due to his physic ability to alter the perception of one's mind, making the men unable to see him, as though he were invisible-a handy talent in his line of work.
Once Jasper reached the ground floor, he made his way to his Jeep that was parked a block away from the building.
He found that the car had a little yellow piece of paper pinned down by the wipers. He groaned as he picked it up.
A parking ticket, just what he needed.
What a perfect way to ruin a perfect night. Jasper was all high on adrenalin and the face that he pulled off a one in a million shot just moments before and now he was a little ticked off. Stupid infringement officers.
He unlocked the car, slid in the driver's seat and placed the bag in the passenger's side. His number one rule was to always keep your weapons in sight.
Jasper took out his iphone to check on an assignment and sighed in relief when nothing had changed.
Setting the phone down, he put the keys in the ignition. The car rawed to life with music that he turned up to a blast as he made his way to The Crown Towers Hotel.
There was no traffic, so he made it home in record time to find that no one had taken his park. It was the closest to the door, in case he needed to make a quick getaway.
He got out of the car, his steps echoing in the underground car park and walked more echoed steps to the door.
He had to dig in his pocket for the key card, so that he could swipe it to open the doors, then the elevator to the fifth floor room 501.
When he opened the door and turned on the light-after a good 30 seconds of patting the wall down in search for it-he found his room totally trashed. "Fuck," he muttered through clenched teeth.
Slowly Jasper ventured further into the room to assess the damage. Draws were left open and upturned, paper and books scattered along the floor, a painting hung just barely above the knocked down sofa and his lap top looked as though a car run over it and the coffee table it sat on.
Broken pieces and paper crumpled under his feet before he paused at the couch to flip it. Once the chair was up right he sat down on it, letting out an exasperated sigh as his eyes swept the room.
Jasper didn't have to guess who was behind it and thankfully they didn't get what they came for, hence the destruction. Yet it was also a message that they were back in business.
A smile played along his lips at the thought.
They could hit him as much as they liked, but Jasper would return the favor and it wouldn't be out of vengeance, just the pure thrill of the hunt.
They probably expected him to move rooms, but he wouldn't for a few more days. Stand his ground and clean up the shit that was his room.
