ASSIGNMENT
"José."
"I know."
"You have two days to prepare."
"Sir…"
"Here are the relevant documents." Lorenzo turns and begins to walk away. He pauses. "And José- there can be no witnesses."
"Yes sir."
As the older man exits the room, José leans against the window, looking out over the SWA compound. In the distance, the faint crack of gunfire from the shooting range can be heard. Sunlight reflects off the artificial pond as birds fly overhead in the bright blue sky. The trees shiver as a slow breeze goes by.
With a sigh, he turns away and heads back into the darkened hallway, manila folder in hand.
AWARENESS
They are sitting outside, at a square stone table made for four. He sits with his back to the vast openness, staring instead at the walls of buildings which make up the SWA. Underneath his feet, gravel crunches at the slightest motion. He is studying the contents of a manila folder, strap unbound and documents spread across the table in an orderly fashion.
Directly opposite, she sits on the edge of her chair, swinging her legs, feet not reaching the ground, shoes clicking together midair. Her mind is lost amid the rolling countryside.
"Henrietta."
Upon hearing her name, her eyes snap to his face. Muscles shift, tensing, ready to move. Forgotten are the white fluffy clouds floating overhead that she found so enjoyable to watch a moment ago. Forgotten are the playful birds, darting among the trees in the distance forest. One hand stays on the table, the other slips underneath to grasp the SIG holstered at her side. The world around her becomes sharper, more defined.
Her entire existence is now centered on José.
He continues- though she surely notices his slight delay.
He taps the folder lying on the table in front of him. "It will be just the two of us on this one…" He trails off, as if wanting to say more. He looks away from the girl, staring at nothing.
"José?"
Her voice, so innocent, so carefree, makes him close his eyes. Her hand has returned from under the table, resting now beside its twin.
Opening his eyes, he looks across the table at her. She is staring back at him, eyes and voice full of concern, fingers of one hand running through her hair, as she does when nervous.
"Henrietta…this will be a difficult one."
Shifting through the pile of sheets, he tosses her a photo of the target. Without a thought, she pins the midair photo to the table with a finger. The man staring back up at her is clean shaven, approximately forty, perhaps forty-five years of age- still with a full stock of dark brown hair. A man who has everything: a beautiful and loving wife, a mansion, enough money to retire early, and two perfect children. If only it weren't for his dealings with the smuggling narcotics, he would be a perfect father figure.
She blinks, not understanding, puzzled.
"But…all I have to do is kill one person." Her worry has melted away, replaced with a happy smile and bright laughter. "That's easy!"
His jaw clenches. How he wishes someone else was assigned this mission.
"José…" Concern is once again present in her voice. "Was- was that wrong?"
He smiles a little, if only for her benefit.
"No Henrietta. But it might be more than one."
A small, now almost non-existent part of him feels sick at the beaming smile those words bring.
José continues on.
"He lives here..."
He passes her an aerial photograph of the massive T-shaped structure. Two stories, three wings, nearly forty rooms- it is a place to escape from the world. Within its corridors lives the family of four. Each child has a wing to themselves, the boy in the east, and the girl in the west. The parents share the southern wing. All have multiple bedrooms, bathrooms and at least one library and recreation room. The main dining hall and master library are located in the central area. Facing north, the mansion overlooks a long valley to the south, covered in lush pine forest.
He hands her more pictures- another of the target, one of the wife, two of each children, and finally, a family pose. Shifting through the pictures, she blinks and her smile slowly fades.
"No witnesses. Do you understand?"
He leans forward slightly, staring at her.
Her gaze shifts from the pictures to her hands, finger entwined together on the table. The energy present a moment ago in her voice is now gone.
"Yes José. I understand."
"Henrietta?" She looks off into the distance, staring at nothing.
"Yes?"
"I'm sorry."
Her gaze drifts back to the photos, eyes lingering on faces.
José reaches across the table and begins gathering the documents together, taking care not to disturb the photos in front of Henrietta. Finished, he stands, scrapping the stone chair across the concrete. Carefully tucking the folder under an arm, he turns and walks away, heading towards the dark shadows of the SWA compound.
There is no scrape of a chair as Henrietta jumps to the ground and follows, hurrying to catch up with José.
The photos, forgotten on the table, scatter to the wind.