Do My Part
Disclaimer: I don't own anything related to Red Eye!
Chapter Two
He answered his cell phone, his voice smooth as silk, when it rang. It was the private cell phone whose number only went out to people in his business. Only the high-paying customers who could afford him knew how to reach him.
The prospect of a new job excited him. It had been a boring last two weeks without anything to plot, or anyone to track. He hated being in a slump, and his business was falling. Fewer people wanted to use his successful methods to take someone out.
Brash action was preferred in these days of change. Terrorism had reshaped his career and now he was in the final stages of preparation for a switch in vocation. He was no longer needed, and therefore just waiting for the perfect final job before swearing it off for good.
He would undoubtedly miss his job, but he could always find a new one to obsess over. He was good at adaptation — he was a chameleon when working on a job. No one had ever even once managed to connect him to various, high-impacting assassinations.
"Hello," he said.
"Code 54543?" questioned the other man on the line, using his system of numbers to determine a job. It was safer to talk in numbers than words.
"Roger," he replied, smirking to himself. Boy, do I need something to do…
"18507?"
The code for an assassination.
His smile grew wider. "Date?"
"805."
August – a ways away… plenty of time for him to plan.
"Continue."
"Uh, 11, 5, 5, 6, 5."
"First?"
"3, 8, 1, 18, 12, 5, 19."
Charles Keefe — an August assassination.
"Anything else?"
" Miami — Lux Atlantic."
"Will 18507 be there?" he questioned, asking for confirmation.
"Yes. Manager of hotel will be used. There needs to be a room change."
"From?"
"3825 to 4080."
"Done deal. Payment?"
"Half now, rest on delivery."
He nodded. This person certainly knew the rules of the game. He could not help but admire that.
He began surveillance on the target as well as the hotel manager almost immediately. The highlights of his day revolved around the pretty young woman. She was captivating in the way that she hid herself away, locked her beauty up tight, and never seemed truly happy. What made you that way, Leese? When he had last seen her two years earlier, she had been very happy.
The secrets revolving her slowly came to light. When he installed the cameras, he found pictures of her and another man — pictures of a smiling couple in the prime of their lives. All the pictures were several years old, prompting him to dig into her background. Who had broken her heart and left her an empty shell?
The man in the photographs was her husband — a special ops soldier killed in the line of duty in a far-off country during the recent war on terrorism. As far as he could tell, the beginning of her decline into becoming a workaholic and loner had been then, shortly after she received the earth-shattering news four years earlier. Of course, he had a feeling that her problems had begun four years before that, when she had turned him down.
Her perfect world had fallen into pieces over the years and now he would destroy it even further. After all, it was his job to ensure that she followed through with the plan and made the phone call. That's all that he needed. One simple phone call to change the room, and his employers would handle the rest. Keefe was a dead man — plain and simple as that.
Lisa Reisert (she had reverted to her maiden name) was supposed to make sure of it.
Author's Notes:
Okay, this is a sad excuse for a chapter, but I thought it would be nice to see the beginning of Jackson's job and some of his early thoughts. I hate thunderstorms because I wrote this during one and it kept distracting me. Anyways, enjoy and I'm sorry about the long wait. I'm back now, so the updates should be more frequent.