The Assassin
Only Simone could make me second guess myself.
One look at her in the blue cropped halter top and matching maxi skirt, and I regretted putting her on that goddamn plane with us.
There was no doubt in my mind she would attract eyes at the party.
Shit, if we weren’t careful, I’d bet she’d catch our target's eye.
I tried to tell myself if she had more experience, I may not have cared about switching gears and using her as the diversion if needed. But, I knew the simple thought of that grimy motherfucker’s hands on her would earn him a slow, excruciating death. One we didn’t have time for.
In cases like this, when we had to kill behind closed doors with the ignorant public on the other side, we had to make the execution as quick as possible. A gunshot through the skull or a slit throat usually did the trick.
Because I was still doubting Simone’s ability to kill in cold blood, I didn’t want to leave her with that responsibility yet. Her only purpose today was to observe and learn.
I stopped our van a few blocks up from the club where the party was being held. Even from a distance, the music still boomed through the air. Pedestrians draped in their best attire strolled down the sidewalk, leaving no question about where they were headed off to.
As I climbed out of the driver’s seat, I watched Miles hand out tiny earbuds to the women. He’d enhanced our communication software to stretch farther distances and matched the color of the earbuds to our respective skin tones to blend into our ears.
I appreciated his initiative to make our method of communication more discreet. While most of our targets in the past had been more oblivious to our tactics, we couldn’t bank on the ones ahead of us to be the same. Especially if those would eventually include the ones who tried to kill Simone.
I collected mine and hopped out of the van.
Simone followed after me, taking the hand I offered her.
Maria lingered back to kiss Miles goodbye as he settled in the rolling chair she usually occupied in front of the mass of computers. “Be careful,” he murmured against her lips.
“Always,” she whispered back. She tried to hide her smile as she climbed down from the van and closed the door behind her.
“Y’all corny as shit,” I teased.
I know you’re not talking, she signed back, raising a brow at my hand that was still holding Simone’s.
I sucked my teeth, but didn’t release Simone’s hand. I actually held it tighter.
Simone giggled at our brief exchange. “You two bicker like siblings,” she commented.
And you two fight like an old married couple.
I almost choked on the laugh trying to climb up my throat. “Alright, chill,” I told Maria.
She raised a brow. Did I lie?
I shook my head at her.
Beside me, Simone’s brows pinched. She’s been using some resources Maria had given her to help learn sign language, so the two of them could communicate better.
This past week, in our downtime, I’ve seen the two of them sitting on the couch, Maria practicing signs and Simone trying to read them. From the glimpses I’ve seen, she got the gist of what Maria was talking about, but sometimes missed the smaller words that filled in all the blanks.
Judging from the confusion of her face, she must not have fully comprehended Maria’s comment.
“Don’t worry about it,” I told Simone, squeezing her hand.
The jokes needed to end, anyway. We were starting to blend into the crowd milling towards Jules’ estate.
I offered my other arm to Maria, and she wrapped her fingers around my bicep. Her eyes scanned over the faces in the crowd, assessing the environment we were walking into.
Most of the patrons were already stumbling, intoxicated from pregaming before they arrived. They moved in packs, leaning onto each other to remain upright.
An abundance of guards stood at the various entrances of the facility. They nodded as each group flashed their “invitation,” a purple square with golden writing on it, and permitted them entrance.
One of the knuckleheads in front us tried to scurry past without showing theirs. A guard immediately grabbed the man’s arms, tugged him out from the crowd, and shoved him so hard towards the sidewalk that he fell backwards and hit the concrete.
Simone’s hand loosened around mine, and I tightened my grip to make sure she didn’t get any bright ideas. The man was fine; she didn’t need to be a good Samaritan and check on him.
The guards nodded at us as I flashed our invitation and escorted the girls inside.
On the outside looking in, this was nothing more than a normal party.
The dance floor was filled with bodies, gyrating to the tunes the nearby DJ played.
Small tabletops and both bars were occupied by people sipping on drinks.
On the upper level, well-respected and high-paying patrons sat in their VIP sections, conversing with the bottle girls and drinking to their hearts desire.
Jules was easy to spot with his section smack in the center of the upper level and his body hunched over the railing. His dark eyes paced back and forth over the crowd below like a panther searching for its next meal.
Simone followed my gaze as I towed her towards one of the tabletops near the dark corner of the establishment, hidden away from the rest of the crowds. “What’s he looking for?” She asked.
“What do most men look for when they’re sipping on something strong?”
She nodded. “Right. And I assume that’s where Maria comes in.” Her eyes bounced around, noticing our partner’s absence. Her head whipped around as she searched for Maria’s head of bouncy curls.
“Relax,” I told her. “We need to look natural.”
“But, how do we know he’ll take the bait? I mean, there are tons of women here.”
“Sure. Women who are all desperate for his attention.” I jutted my chin towards the dance floor. “Look at them.”
Simone’s brows pinched as she obeyed my command. The crease gradually disappeared with each passing moment she stared at the dance floor.
Nearly all of the conventionally attractive women were stealing glances up at Jules as they rolled their hips and ran their hands over their assets. Some even tried to hold his gaze as they danced with another man in a feeble attempt to make him care. All of them were too bold - too obvious.
“Okay,” Simone murmured. “How does that make Maria any different? Doesn’t she want his attention too?”
“Yes, but her job is to act like she doesn’t.” I spotted her face within the crowd. “Watch how she’s moving.”
Maria had found a free space on the dance floor that was close enough to make her blend in with the crowd, but with enough space that no one was dancing too close to her. Her hips swung to the beat of the music, sensual yet carefree. A smile played on her lips as she danced.
To the naked eye, she was a woman enjoying her own company. She wasn’t worried about how others perceived her - or attracting a man. She was just having fun. And the mask of naivety was what always caught the eye of men like Jules.
Barely five minutes had passed and his gaze was already fixed on her.
“Wow,” Simone murmured. “I always knew men were easy, but damn.” She turned back to me. “How long do you think before he makes a move?”
“Ten, fifteen minutes. He can’t wait too long. With every moment he does, the likelihood of someone else swooping in rises. He’s not the only one watching her.”
Nodding, she turned back to me. “Is this how most of your missions go? With Trojan horses?”
“No. We build our plan around a multitude of factors. Personality, occupation, weakness, etcetera. Some targets are easier to take down than others. Shit, some take longer than others. That time in Vegas, when you popped up on me, that took us almost two weeks to complete.”
“Why?”
“Getting close to the head of an illegal poker ring is harder than a party boy. That target, specifically, kept his identity and presence a secret. We had to build the trust of his men to be in the same room as him. Jules, on the other hand, thrives off his reputation and wants to be seen.”
“It’s funny; you almost sound like one of my colleagues with the way you break down your strategies.”
“Crazy as it sounds: your old job and mine are very identical. The only difference is you stopped at catching them; I put an end to them.” I nodded towards the upper level. “He’s moving in.”
We watched as Jules waved his hand for one of his men. His mouth moved as he jutted his chin down at Maria.
The other man nodded before heading out of the section. He hurried down the steps and weaved the crowds to get to Maria. Setting a hand on her back, he leaned in to whisper in her ear. Both of their eyes traveled to Jules as he spoke.
Maria feigned a bashful smile as she and Jules made eye contact. Nodding to the man’s words, she followed him through the crowds and up the stairs towards Jules’ section.
“Hello,” Maria’s earbud picked up the sound of his voice. “May I ask why a beautiful woman such as yourself is dancing alone?”
“Haven’t had anyone ask to join me,” Maria replied with a shrug. She kept her voice low to hide the cracks within it. With the music blaring, Jules practically had to lean in to hear her.
He took her hand in his and brought it up to his lips. “How about I treat you to a drink, first?”
They drifted away from the railing towards one of the couches in his section, conversing about their choice of liquors. Maria sat a fair distance away on the couch, and Jules grinned at the challenge she was posing.
It was harder to see them at this angle. We’d need to move closer to keep a better eye on her.
I climbed off of my stool and held my hand out to Simone. “Come on,” I told her as she accepted it. “Dance with me.”