Helping Alexei With a Hit A Soren and Alexei Short Story
“You found it on the beach? You know, when most people walk on the beach, they pick up shells.” Soren stood by Alexei, his hands on his hips as he watched his boyfriend rifling through a black box filled with knives, guns, black rope, wire cutters, duct tape, and other items useful in doing all manner of illegal shit.
Which was pretty much what Alexei was best at.
Alexei twisted around and held up a nine-millimeter bullet, a cheeky grin spreading across his face. “What? Not like this?”
“No, not like that.”
Alexei shrugged and returned his attention to digging through the box.
“And you just happened to find this box by accident?”
“What makes you think it was an accident?”
Soren turned on the beach, looking up and down to find that the beach was relatively empty for a sunny October afternoon.
They had just spent a week with Alexei’s uncles in Colorado and had been trying to figure out what to do next when Alexei had suggested they pop over to the Isle of Palms in South Carolina.
This pretty strip of beach was filled with fancy houses for rent.
Not to mention, the off-season provided ample peace and quiet.
After a week of dodging snarky comments and nosy questions from Justin and Gabriel, Soren could use a little peace.
Instead, he was standing next to his boyfriend as he went through a box of weapons that he’d just happened to dig up out of the sand on this secluded strip of beach. Yeah, right.
“You know what? I think I’m just going to take the whole damn thing,” Alexei announced before slamming the lid shut. The double latches locking the lid clicked into place. “We’re gonna call it finders keepers.” Alexei grabbed the handle and stood to face Soren. “Ready to head back?”
“Not until you tell me what the hell is going on.”
“What? I found a treasure box, and I’m keeping it.”
Soren stared at Alexei, trying hard not to grind his teeth.
Dating someone like Alexei was always an adventure.
His boyfriend had spent part of his childhood raised by Russian KGB aristocracy and the other part being raised by assassins.
Neither side screamed trust. He never questioned that Alexei loved him, but getting him to trust Soren with information was another matter.
Alexei wasn’t good at volunteering information.
It was something Soren usually had to get out of him using ether and pliers.
“You didn’t dig in the exact spot where that was buried on a whim.
The same way we didn’t just happen to come here for a short vacation,” Soren said flatly.
He crossed his arms over his chest and shifted his weight from his left foot to his right as he glared down at Alexei.
“The full story, please. When did you take the job?”
Alexei whined, his beautiful face scrunching up at Soren for not letting him get away with his nonsense. “Soren.”
“Alexei. Love. Please.”
The “reformed” assassin huffed and dropped the whine in favor of a glare. “Now you’re just being mean with that love crap.”
“Please.”
“Mean.” He huffed a second time, but Soren knew it was all an act as he struggled with his embarrassment.
“Fine. Marilyn contacted me three days ago about a contract for a bad man. Sounds like the victim was trying to go the legal route, but there were signs it wouldn’t pan out, so they’d be happy if this schmuck was dead.
He’s got a place just up the way.” Alexei waved along the beach in the opposite direction.
“And your uncles weren’t available because…?”
“They’re retired, and they’re serious about it this time.”
Soren rolled his eyes.
“No, they are serious this time. It’s been at least two months since they last took a job.”
“That’s not retirement. That’s a vacation. If Gabriel and Justin can go an entire year without killing anyone, I would believe they’re actually retired.”
Alexei snorted and threaded his arm through Soren’s, forcing him to relax as he was forcibly turned and escorted back toward the spacious beach house they were renting. “I said they were retired. Not dead.”
He got it. Gabriel and Justin enjoyed their unique trade far too much to ever fully retire.
“Okay, but you said you wanted to retire. You didn’t want to do the killing anymore or try to follow in your uncles’ footsteps. I thought mercenary work was enough for you.”
He had no problem with Alexei being an assassin, but he was concerned about his lover’s happiness and mental health.
There was a toll that came with all the danger and sneaking.
It also tended to be a lonely business. Soren had spent time as both a CIA operative and a cat burglar.
The CIA job had required a fair amount of killing while burglary had offered lots of sneaking.
He’d found he preferred the sneaking to the killing.
“Oh, I’m still retired,” Alexei stated with a little bounce in his step. “This is more of a…let’s call it giving karma a helping hand.”
Soren scrubbed his free hand across his face. “I’m so confused.”
“It’s not that complicated.” Alexei pulled Soren to a stop and moved to stand in front of him. “He’s a bad person. He needs to die.” Alexei leaned close and dropped his voice so low that Soren barely heard him above the crashing waves. “He’s a sex trafficker and a rapist.”
“Ah.” Soren blinked and turned his head to stare out at the ocean for a couple of seconds. Then he turned his gaze to Alexei and smiled. “I want to help.”
Alexei giggled as he grabbed Soren’s arm again and pulled him toward the wooden stairs that led to the house from the beach.
Alexei listed off the information that he’d already been provided about the person’s house, security, and schedule.
Soren took it all in, mentally organizing the information and forming a variety of plans.
Charlie might have handled the operation details when they’d worked together, but that didn’t mean Soren didn’t have an impressive set of the same skills.
He was a master of sneaking and circumventing security systems.
If his boyfriend wanted to assassinate a bad man, Soren was going to make it happen.
The wind whipped along the beach, rattling the palm trees. Waves crashed with the ferocity of tigers fighting over territory, roaring as they hit the shore. A storm was brewing, making it the perfect night for murder.
After Alexei admitted to the job, Soren handled the planning to get past the security. He also prepared a few extra surprises for his quirky boyfriend.
The security system itself wasn’t hard to get around. It was four years old and plagued with holes that were easy to exploit. A man as rich as this should have paid more attention to his own safety.
The wail of the wind helped to mask their entrance after Soren cut the security system.
They sneaked inside the three-story beach house and split up.
Their research revealed that Mr. Dixon Chandler always kept two bodyguards with him.
The servants weren’t allowed to stay on the premises and had to drive thirty minutes at the crack of dawn to prepare breakfast for this fucker.
Then they had to be gone each night by nine.
While Alexei darted up the stairs to the master bedroom, Soren moved through white rooms filled with white furniture and clichéd abstract paintings to find the half-hidden bedrooms on the first floor for the bodyguards.
One bodyguard was easy enough to take out.
The man was sleeping soundly, his snores louder than the brewing storm.
Soren skipped the tranquilizer dart and just put a bit of ether on a cloth to knock the man out.
He wouldn’t be stirring on his own for several hours, giving them more than enough time to work.
Soren halted outside the other bedroom. A faint light leaked from under the door, and he frowned. Either the man slept with a nightlight or he was awake.
Soren was mentally working out the best method of approach when his watch vibrated, indicating that Alexei was already in position.
Fuck! He was fast. That meant he had thirty seconds to get the other guard handled, which in “Alexei time” equated to about ten seconds because his lover had zero patience and knowingly counted too fast.
To hell with finesse. Soren shoved open the door and scoured the room to find a large, broad-shouldered man with a buzz cut coming out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist.
Soren grinned behind his black mask and lifted the tranquilizer gun.
As he squeezed the trigger, the man ripped off his towel and waved it in front of him, just in time to catch the dart.
The bodyguard dove to the far side of the bed, and Soren swore under his breath.
The security system might be shit, but Chandler had gotten a smart guard.
His heart pounding, Soren leaped onto the bed.
The too-soft mattress sank under his weight so that it tried to devour his feet like quicksand.
He aimed his gun down at where the guard should have been.
At the same time, Buzz brought up his gun from wherever the hell he must have hidden it.
Soren kicked out, knocking the gun aside.
But the asshole didn’t escape. Instead, he grabbed the comforter with both hands and yanked hard, throwing Soren off his feet and onto his back with a bounce.
Buzz roared and launched his big, naked body at Soren. Cursing himself, his boyfriend, and his own rotten luck, Soren fired two darts into the man’s chest and neck. Buzz got his hands on Soren’s throat, but that was it. The tranquilizer kicked in, and the man was out.
Soren pushed the dead weight off him and lay on the bed, panting. Sweat coated him, causing his protective gear to stick to him. The things he did for his boyfriend.
A cry of pain cut through the silent house, and Soren was up again. That wasn’t Alexei’s voice. No, that had to be the target. Alexei was working his magic, and Soren needed to be there as support.