Disclaimer: I don't own Human Target and intend no copyright infringement.
~ two ~
Killing B. Brax was not as easy as it sounded, even for assassins as experienced and well-trained as the Old Man and Baptiste. They couldn't just off him. Brax' position as the leader of an intricately fabricated criminal organization with dozens of smaller units, hundreds of subordinates and a hard to estimate number of power hungry wannabe leaders secretly picturing themselves in his place, was comparable to that of the dictator of a small country.
The problem of dictatorship is not just that all power is in the hands of one individual that may use it at will, for good or for – as in most cases – worse. The real problem of dictatorship is that it corrupts the country in question. All power corrupts, but lack of power corrupts absolutely. Once the dictator is gone the country's oppressed groups and their respective leaders start struggling to gain as much of the pie that had previously been denied to them as possible.
Trust them to pick up the philosophy that the ends justify the means as quickly as the doctrine that revenge is a God or whatever-given right.
There's no real way to prevent this from happening. There are methods to cushion this effect, though. As good as it feels to parade the erm… deceased … dictator's head around on a pike and display the rest of his body in a public place, a violent end to a ruler is usually a sure way to guarantee bloody Wars of the Diadochi. It is as if the end of the old times inevitably set the atmosphere of the new beginning. A violent end almost certainly taints the new start.
In principle the same goes for criminal organizations. Once the Big Boss is out of the way, the wannabe leaders scramble for the top position. How they do it, however is connected with the Big Boss' fashion of departure. An assassination is almost instantly bound to create paranoia – everyone feels threatened by everyone else and is convinced that somebody is willing to cross all boundaries. So, in preventive action, they all cross all boundaries.
Can you say "bloodbath"? "Collateral damage"? "Innocent citizens dying in the crossfire"?
A natural death, on the other hand can't completely prevent violent struggles for succession, but it increases the chances for a more… civilized … change of leadership.
Hey, the guillotine was introduced as a civilized way of executing people, so the term is somewhat fitting.
Yeah, somewhat.
Anyway, Baptiste and the Old Man decided to be subtle about the whole killing B. Brax thing. Thus the "bacterial infection" and his subsequent admission to hospital.
A simple air bubble injected in the tube that connected Brax' drip infusion with his body and the whole problem would have been solved in a neat, unobtrusive way.
But noooooo… a problem had to arise.
Joubert was the first one to notice. Pretending to be one of Brax' doctors, he unexpectedly dropped into his hospital room – just in time to find another "doctor" press a pillow to unconscious Brax' face.
Oh great.
Any half-way decent medical examiner recognizes signs of asphyxiation from a mile off.
The assassin, a woman, wasted no time, the second Joubert came through the door she pulled her gun.
Good thing his reflexes were still as sharp as ever. And his gun was much larger. From this distance a shot would tear a giant hole into her. She'd have serious problems even if he only grazed her.
From the look on her face he could tell she knew.
Outside the door Brax' bodyguards were keeping watch, oblivious to what was going on inside… for now.
Once they noticed, the carefully devised plan to remove Brax as unobtrusively as possible would be toast. The bodyguards would storm in, a shootout would ensue, some of the bullets would go through the thin walls, innocent bystander would get hurt…
Junior wouldn't like that and Joubert definitely couldn't risk his wrath. Ash's state of mind was almost perfect – he was hurt, he was angry, he wanted to lash out at his mother's murderer and everyone else he could hold responsible for her death… He needed to maintain contact with him right now, at all costs. All the boy needed was a little more guidance and he would make the right choice… just like his father, so many years ago.
Odd, even the age was similar. Junior had been sixteen when Joubert had first laid eyes on him. Damn, they had been quite a team. Well, the good times were about to begin again. He only needed to figure out how to solve the current problem. With a sigh Joubert forced himself to concentrate on the present situation again.
"Your gun", he hissed.
She hesitated. But again, his weapon could make quite big holes… She put the gun on Brax' bed sheet.
Thank God Brax was still unconscious. Clever girl had manipulated his heart monitor. So far still nobody had noticed what was going on in the special patient's room….
"You're not going to make a single sound", Joubert instructed her. "We're going to walk out of here. Together. Two colleagues. Talking shop. Exchanging their opinions on a very well paying patient with interesting symptoms."
"You don't seriously think I'll let you lead me off like a lamb to the slaughter…", she hissed.
"I'll let go of you the second we're out the door. You turn right, I turn left. We leave with moderately fast, doctor-like steps in different directions. I don't want to see your face ever again."
"I don't believe a word of it." Clever girl, of course Joubert was planning to alert Baptiste so that he could catch her once she was out of the bodyguard's sight.
"You've got a better idea?"
"Actually… yes… since you don't want any noise you can hardly shoot me, can you?" Head held high, she took her gun back, walked over to the hospital room's glass door, pulled it open, climbed onto the small balcony that Brax' private room was equipped with, easily clambered over to the next small balcony…
She was right… as long as she didn't fire a shot at Joubert, he had what he wanted: Nobody realizing what was going on.
Very clever girl indeed.
And gone she was.