She looked over her shoulder, as others did around her, but she kept walking, putting the syringe back into her bag. She picked up her pace, though not overtly so. She was cognizant of security cameras, CCTV, that were scattered along the streets. She stopped from time to time and found a small pub and went inside. After a moment, she went to the bar for a beer. She sat at the bar and sipped her beer. After a few minutes, she heard the police and watched as the vehicle passed the pub. Then she saw an ambulance. By now, the toxin will have dissipated and gone out of the man’s system. It was such a wonderful tool, but it also meant getting up and personal. She didn’t like to do that often.
She finished her beer and exited the pub. She looked up the street and could see a crowd and the top of the ambulance, its lights flashing. She turned and made her way back down the road. She’d find a likely dumpster to get rid of the syringe. She’d have to make sure that there were no pesky security cameras around. She found a likely receptacle and looked around, saw no surveillance, and dropped the syringe in. Never slowing her stride, it was difficult to see that she’d done so.
She walked farther up the street and turned onto another street and hailed a taxi. She wanted to head back to the hotel, she was going to see a show and wanted to get cleaned up and change clothing. She enjoyed London, there was always great entertainment here. She pulled her phone and texted Nobu.
“Done and done hon.”
“Okay, one moment.” Nobu wrote.
“Want any souvenirs?” She texted back.
“Your flight home is still on schedule. And no thanks, unless you find a very handsome man. Have fun and see you in a couple days.”
Laughing, she hung up and sat back in the taxi, looking out at the scenery as it passed by. This was one of the nicest parts of the job, when it was finished, she could completely relax and enjoy what ever city she was in. It wasn’t that she was a restless soul, always needing to be on the go, it was just that she enjoyed wherever she was.
THREE
Haiden packed a bag, he wasn’t sure how long he’d be. He also put in his brown contacts. He spoke fluent Spanish and so would assume the guise of a Mexican. He’d also let his beard grow out. He had Hawaiian roots, and though his coloring was fair, he could tan up nicely. This worked well if he went to Italy, Spain or the Middle East, which wasn’t often. He didn’t feel comfortable about taking jobs in the Middle East. Getting caught was worse than getting killed in those places.
He’d made a reservation at a midrange hotel in downtown Dallas. His connection had a weapon waiting for him there. Sadly, he couldn’t take his own weapons on the flight. He had to depend on his network and that cost money. He would have two weapons at his disposal, both with suppressors. Both Sig Sauer, his weapons of choice. A pistol and a rifle, long range and up close. He didn’t care for up close work, too much chance of collateral damage as well as being caught. He’d carry the rifle in an old guitar case.
He pulled out the appropriate ID and placed it in his wallet, taking out his true identity. Didn’t need questions asked about two driver’s licenses. Should he be arrested, he’d not have his real identity compromised. He found Jezebel and picked her up and nuzzled her face. She allowed him to do so for only a moment, then wanted down and away. He checked her food and water dispenser and her robot cat litter box.
He looked around the apartment to make sure there wasn’t anything that she could get into and destroy. He’d forgotten to do that once and had regretted it Oil paints on the couch didn’t come off, not to mention Jezebel was sick for weeks. Also, it took a bit of cleaning to get it off of her. He ended up taking her to a groomer and having her shaved. She’d never forgiven him. Nodding, he left his apartment.
When he walked into the elevator, it was occupied by two men, and he nodded. They rode in silence down and then he exited and went out to his Uber ride. He looked out the window as the drive to the airport was a tedious one. He didn’t feel like talking to the driver and so had his earbuds in. When he was in his business mode, he rarely spoke, he was normally introspective. Though his visage was outwardly passive, his mind was walking through scenarios. He’d locate Davisson first and follow at a discreet distance, keeping an eye out for any female that followed him.
The thing with following a follower, was that you looked for body language. He watched people on the street and could pick up clues, those who were ramrod straight were normally stressed and in a hurry. Those that slumped along were usually lazy or depressed, careless people. Those who flowed seemed to have more upbeat and energy. He’d watch for body language first, then faces. Some people had distinctive gates, such as John Wayne. When he walked, his upper body led. His shoulders swung from side to side. Very distinctive.
If he could find that distinctive gate and found it following Davisson, and if it were a woman, then he’d more than likely found his target. It wasn’t a sure thing, but he’d let his instincts guide him. He didn’t have to pull the trigger after all.
He got through security and within
