Chapter 51
Chapter fifty-one
Barrett
We were all silent as we geared up at Rafe’s house.
This isn’t an average night for us. None of us have taken on a project this large, with this many moving pieces and the intention of sending a message of our own.
This wasn’t what we were hired for, but it’s what we’re going to do.
We’ve accepted the fact the mayor decided not to pay Rafe a cent until the job is complete—an idiotic decision on his part—but Rafe will deal with him later.
“We all know what to do. See you back here in the morning.” Rafe gets in his car and drives off toward the gate. Fain nods before getting on his motorcycle and I get in my black sedan to follow them after one last look up the lane toward my house.
I remind myself she’s safe as I drive away.
My first target tonight is the accountant at the environmental charity.
The man has no family and sleeps with anything with two legs and a cunt.
He pays for most of it while drinking excessively.
He isn’t making any profit from being involved with Campbell, spending every dollar on his vices.
It would be so easy to make his death look like an accident, exactly what the mayor wants, but that isn’t what we want.
This isn’t just a job for us anymore. It’s personal.
According to the GPS in his car and in his phone, Felix Durst spends most of his time at a club that’s well known for its private back rooms. A modern-day brothel. He’s very exact on which nights he attends.
The club is crowded with a line-up out to the street and security is thin.
I’ve already acquired the surveillance schematics.
The only working cameras are at the main entrance, the bar, and the back offices where the safe is held.
The rest are just for show. I jump the fence and join the groups loitering outside for their cigarette-fresh air and fall in line behind the small group entering the club from the side entrance.
Only one bouncer guards the hall leading to the private rooms, but the space isn’t secluded. I can’t get rid of him without causing a scene. There may not be any other bouncers nearby, but the dancers won’t just ignore an unconscious man at the edge of the dance floor. I need a distraction.
Entering the melee on the floor, I pick a woman who has a large entourage of men surrounding her.
By the looks on their faces, they’re all hoping for the same thing and don’t care if they’re the only ones present for the event.
Joining their group, I get close to the woman in the centre, pulling her against me.
None of the others had staked such a claim, taking their turns gently passing her around.
We’re practically standing in front of the hall, as close to the bouncer as possible. I note the frowns on the other men. Good. I’m fucking with their plans.
The one on my right tries to wedge his way in, pulling on the woman’s arm while I continue to sway with her and grip her hips with my hands. I stick out my elbow to block him, shooting over my shoulder, “Fuck off, man.”
“You fuck off.” He shoves at my shoulder.
I ensure I keep my hold on the woman so that she stumbles as well, enraging the entire circle.
As he throws the first punch, it isn’t difficult to duck and slip into the crowd while his fist lands against the jaw of the man that had been moving in on my left.
I hover in the crowd long enough to see the bouncer fight with himself over leaving his post, but the fight escalates. Perfect. He steps away and I slip out of the crowd and down the hall.
Only three of the five rooms are occupied.
I slip on my mask and chance cracking open the first door with noise on the other side, assuming that everyone inside will be too invested in their activities to notice the door move.
A blond man at least six feet tall who is pounding balls deep in a woman’s ass has his back to the door and both are groaning loud enough not to hear the slight creek of the door.
The accountant has short brown hair and barely reaches five feet seven inches.
Listening outside the second door, I hear multiple voices. All women from what I can tell, but that doesn’t mean a man isn’t in the mix somewhere. I pass that room for now, choosing to open the last one next and save door number two as a last resort. He should be here.
I only hear two voices in the last room.
After peering through the crack, I push it wide, startling the couple fucking on an oversized beanbag chair.
My nose curls at the thought of the multitude of diseases waiting inside that thing.
Felix is laying back, arms resting out to the sides, and the cocky look on his face when I swung the door open was that of a man who believes himself to be a king in need of worship.
And the woman gyrating on top of him was putting on a show.
Now, she’s cowering on the floor with her knees to her chest, and Felix holds a cushion over his groin and stands.
“Get out.”
Ignoring him, I close the distance between the door and him in only a few steps. Wrapping my hand around his throat, I easily hold him away from me, restricting his air enough to lessen his fight. I glance down at the woman. “I suggest you gather your clothes and go home.”
Her eyes widen with the implication and she quickly nods.
“I also suggest you keep your mouth shut.”
“Yes. I won’t say a word.”
“Good girl.” It isn’t the same as when I say that to Sage. My tone is mocking and demeaning.
Felix grips my wrist tighter, his toes barely getting any purchase against the old, brown, tight-knit carpet. I wait for the woman to throw her clothes on and leave, shutting the door behind her.
I grin beneath the mask and put my attention on the job, dropping Felix to the floor.
“You’ve made your bed with the wrong person, and I’m not talking about her.
” I cock my head back toward the door. “If you’re going to do something that makes you as much money as this, why the hell do you waste it on prostitutes and alcohol.
Sunny vacations and expensive yachts sound like a much better idea.
Something more like what the chair of the company does.
What’s his name? Oh, right, Sean Gates.”
Felix scrambles backward on the floor, recognition of his situation dawning. He knows exactly what bed I’m talking about now. I’ve given just enough information for him to know he’s made some bad decisions.
The moment he starts begging, I’m done with talking. I have other people to kill tonight and this has to be done in a way that looks personal and similar to how most of Campbell’s victims are found.
Pulling the cord from its place under my shirt, I kick him hard enough to stun him into staying still, but not hard enough to knock him out. It’s simple getting the cord wrapped around his neck, winding it three times and creating a slip knot at the back.
Most of Campbell’s victim were found strangled, a cord just like this one wrapped three times around their neck.
Sometimes they were left on the floor, other times, they hung from the ceiling, but the one thing consistent between every victim was the cord.
I have a few more on me for the next target this evening and any other bonus targets that pop up. I’m nothing, if not prepared.
I hold the end and let Felix kill himself with his struggles. The more he struggles, the tighter it gets. He has no balance or strength to stand, kicking his feet in every direction and throwing his arms back to reach for me.
Once his weight drops, I pull on the cord hard enough to break the skin on his neck.
Once I’m certain he’s dead, I let go, dropping him to the floor.
But I need to make sure this doesn’t get covered up.
He has to be discovered in a way that’s made public.
Campbell has a way of covering up the deaths of those involved with him.
The environmental charity needs to be under scrutiny in the morning.
Hence the choice to kill him here and now and not quietly in his office or home.
I tuck one of the charity’s business cards under the cord around his neck as a calling card of sorts.
I also leave one for Dorian Campbell himself.
The only way to ensure it gets reported is to send someone down the hall to discover the body.
Someone who will scream and cause a scene big enough to get the attention of others in the club.
A group of someone’s would be even better.
The bouncer doesn’t blink an eye as I pass him, pretending to straighten my clothes.
It isn’t difficult to join yet another collective on the dance floor and suggest we all make our way to one of the private rooms, suggesting the last one at the end of the hall, but I disappear before passing the waiting bouncer.
I stay long enough to hear the screams and see people running in that direction.
I take out my phone.
One down.
There are two messages identical to the one I just sent.
On my way to the next target, I pull over to the side of the road, allowing the three police cars speeding along with lights and sirens to pass on the other side of the road.
Once I reach the shelter, I search inside first, knowing that it would be lucky to find him here.
His routine isn’t as predictable as the last. Not seeing the watcher anywhere, I step out in the alley and hit gold.
The watcher and one of the runners are arguing.
I recognize the guy from the last time I was here as one of the ones to come collect the women the watcher called him about.
I listen long enough to know they’re arguing over payment.
No information there. Might as well end this quickly.
Pulling my gun, I let off two shots in succession, hitting each in the knee. Can’t have one of them running off while strangling the other.
I don’t bother talking to them as they groan in pain and stutter out questions. I take out the first cord, wrap it three times around the target’s neck and keep eye contact with the other man attempting to crawl away on the pavement while the first struggles to his own death.
Finishing off the second, I send out several shots in the air, enough to get the attention of everyone in the shelter and anyone nearby, then I make an anonymous tip to the police after I drive away.
Three down. Got a bonus. I send the text and make my way to watch Campbell. That’s the plan. Keep an eye on Campbell until the morning, each of us picking a location of his to watch. These assassinations are meant to spook him, but we can’t have him running before his turn.
His house is dark, but I sit on the side of the street anyway, waiting for the others to check in or for Campbell to make a move.