Everywhere the snow had melted into puddles of water. Flowers began to bloom once more and the leaves from the trees grew and reverted to their natural green. All these were the few indications of spring. Gone were the chilly gusts of wind, slippery floors of ice, and snow covered streets that annoyed almost everybody.

Bayman had remained stationary in the shadowy alleyway, awaiting his target to show. The past few days were rough on him. He had to change his address, stock up on needed goods, but most of all, look over his shoulder at every turn. The stale, potent smell of garbage he found unpleasant. Yet, he dealt with it anyway, looking across the street at what came out of the restaurant.

A man ambled back and forth outside, holding a sandwich in one hand and talking on his cell phone with the other. His belly resembled a pregnant woman's, and he had the buzz cut of a marine. His mustache remained thin as usual. The face and mannerisms were too unmistakable to forget. His name was Sylvester, Donovan's chauffeur. Bayman had monitored him for the short months he knew him, including anyone else affiliated with Victor. He always thought it best to study everyone associated with his clients.

Sylvester was the easiest. He always came here to get a sandwich at the exact same time and day.

Bayman made his way toward the man once the road was clear to cross. Sylvester's voice was boisterous, not seeming to care if anyone overheard his conversation. "Tellin ya, baby, I got it made! They just made me the new CEO and I'm firing asses left and right. Gotta put them idiots in they place, you know?" He chuckled, took a bite of his sandwich with crumbs flying from his mouth, and scowled. "What chu mean you don't believe me? I am the damn CEO!"

Loud and obnoxious. Characteristics so unlike a chauffeur. His dialogue here was much different compared to the formal and polite way he spoke when in Donovan's presence.

Bayman stood right behind him and glared, waiting for him to turnaround. When he did, his eyes got huge and he spewed out a plethora of chewed up lettuce and tomato. The color in his face turned pale and his words became nothing but incoherent mumbles after he uttered the words, 'oh shit.'

Bayman took the cell phone from his trembling hand and put the receiver to his mouth. "He'll call you back." Flipping it closed, he allowed Sylvester to get a glimpse of his pistol handle. "Let's take a walk." His head motioned toward the back of the restaurant where nobody could see them.

"Please…d…don't…k…kill me, man." Sylvester stammered on the way there.

"Long as you cooperate, nothing will happen to you. " Bayman checked around for any signs of people. There were a couple of kids pedaling by on their bicycles. He waited for them to pass and disappear before he starting talking. "You drive Donovan around. When do you expect to pick him up again?"

"I…I can't share that information." He averted his eyes and looked at the sidewalk.

Bayman glared and cracked his knuckles. "You gonna give me a reason why you cannot?"

"Ok, ok. Just cool it." Sylvester waved his hands. "Uh…actually…I have to pick him up… from his pad soon."

Bayman nodded at his cooperation. It was the perfect place to get the jump on Victor when he least expected it. "Good. I suppose you won't mind if you give me a ride there then."

Sylvester's eyes glistened in shock. "Huh? Are you nuts or something?"

"Is that an objection?"

"N..n…nah, man." The chauffeur waved his hands again and swung his foot behind his leg. "Th…that's cool. I'm all for it, man. I was just going to say what a brilliant idea it was."

He rolled his eyes and grumbled. "Quit babbling and start the car."

"Yes, sir." Sylvester gave him a salute and jogged to the driver's side of the black sedan. Bayman put himself in the backseat, keeping a hand close to his pistol. Sylvester started the engine and maneuvered around the other cars before they were in the street. The interior of the sedan was quiet now, save for the loud breeze of the air conditioner.

Bayman pondered in what ways he would make Victor suffer, as there were so many creative ones to choose from. Whatever the case, he wanted to ensure it was just as painful as possible.

It was a few minutes before Sylvester's eyes began taking glances at the rearview mirror. "S..s…so. What's your beef with Victor?"

His eyes rose in slow motion and focused on the man in the driver's seat. "Why is it any of your concern?"

"Ju…just wondering."

"Let's just say he made a really bad choice and he's going to pay for it. Good enough for you?"

"Ye..yeah." His hands seemed so tense they looked like they were on the verge of breaking the steering wheel. "Honestly, I don't understand why anyone would wanna harm Mister Donovan. He's such a generous dude."

"Are you saying that because you're his chauffeur, or do you really mean that?"

"No lie. I wouldn't have this job if it weren't for him. Besides, he knows I'm the best damn chauffeur he's got. He won't fire me cause…"

"Just drive." The Russian commanded as he looked out the tinted window. The less Sylvester talked the better.

"Yes, sir."

Bayman could see the mansion getting closer in view. He told Sylvester to stop the car and let him off right where they were, in favor of an ambush. "Act natural." The order he gave him was the simplest to follow.

The chauffeur then pulled up and parked beside the iron gate as it spread its doors open. Bayman climbed over the fence and landed in the grass. Taking out his wire scissors, he cut the wiring to all the surveillance cameras overlooking the lawn and entrance.

He snuck through the area undetected, and then paused as he heard an unnatural rustling in one of the trees. His knife flickered through the air with shuriken-like speed as he sent it soaring at the culprit hiding there. The stranger dropped down from the branches and to his surprise, it was a woman.

Her skin had a dark tone to it, the kind when one received too much exposure from the sun. She had short-trimmed brown hair and donned a violet gown. There was a gun holster strapped to her thigh. However, she showed no willingness to use the weapon it contained, at least not yet.

In one quick blur, she swiped at him with a combat knife. Bayman caught her by her slender wrist and twisted it. She groaned, the blade falling out of her grasp before he disarmed her of her firearm. The moment he thought he had her, she kicked his thigh with the pointy end of her heeled slingback. The sharp, pinching pain made him release her, and she back flipped a few feet away.

She smiled and held up her guard. "Not bad, although I expect more from Donovan's top hit man."

Bayman glared at her. "I no longer work for that scum. Who are you?"

Her face seemed to grimace in shock. "You…you don't?"

"Isn't that what I just said? You have ears, don't you?"

"Then why are you here?" She chose to ignore the insult, one hand at her hip.

"To kill him. And you?"

The woman giggled, sliding her sidearm back into its holster. "Same. But I don't understand. Why are you here to…"

"Don't have time to explain. Get out of my way." He pushed past her; yet, when she called out to him, he stopped.

"He's long gone by now. One of his other chauffeurs came and got him. I was just about to leave before you showed up." She sauntered past him and shrugged. "Sorry, bud. Looks like you missed your chance."

'Damn…'

"You know," she rested two fingers against the underside of her chin, "perhaps we should work together, seeing as we share the same goal. You game?"

"I work alone."

"No holding back on the machismo, I see." She scoffed at the statement. "Still, I could be of help to you. I once worked for Donovan, so I know a lot of information. With me on your side, you'd get a heck of lot closer to him than you would without."

Bayman thought about it. He did not want someone tagging along like some sidekick when he could do everything on his own; yet, at the same time, he wanted Victor dead more than ever. He crossed his arms and sighed, knowing he was taking a gamble here. "I'll let you work with me…for now. But know this." He drew his own knife, flipped it by the handle between his fingers, and pointed the blade's tip at her. "If you try anything funny, I will kill you. Clear?"

"Crystal." The woman winked, shaping thumb and forefinger into a circle to give him the a-ok gesture. "Name's Lisa, by the way." She extended her nailed hand.

He turned and walked away, leaving her to follow.

"Well," she said with an obvious hint of sarcasm, "I can tell working with you is going to be loads of fun."