“You know, as hobbies go, this one is a little twisted Ima. Couldn’t you take up knitting? Something less risky?” Nobu asked, laughing.
“Idiot.” She sniggered. “I could, but one less human trafficker, one less pedophile just makes my heart go pitter patter.” She grinned. She studied the man, he looked like some average shmuck. Most monsters did. Not that she considered herself a monster. Some people just needed killing. She was good at it and it had become a very profitable profession.
“I think I might go and spend a few hours watching our friend and his house. I can park there, behind that dumpster directly across the street.” She pointed out.
“I’d like to get eyes on him and any other activity. I might even stop and ask for directions. After I’ve watched for a while of course.” Imani grinned mischievously.
“I hate when you do shit like that. Makes me nervous.”
“Nobu, you know I enjoy a challenge. Let me have my fun.”
“Well fun or not, deep down, I’m glad you do this public service. And it’s kind of funny how the cops just run out of leads.” He laughed.
“Yeah, when they see who’s been terminated, they don’t really look very hard after that. Let me get ready and I think I will go do a sneak and peek.”
An hour later relaxed in her car, an old Toyota Corolla. It was an innocuous car, blending in and therefore, not standing out or memorable. It was a blah beige, and just a little dirty. Nothing shiny. She sipped on her drink, she’d stopped by a drive through. She wore a shoulder length brunette wig, brown rim glasses, pale pink lipstick, cream color shirt and blue jacket. She also wore jeans. She would blend in easily in the neighborhood.
Beside her, she had a box with the address, incorrect in the street instead of lane. She had a messenger bag, and she would deliver the package to Emerton’s house. Inside the box were several nice soaps. This way, if Emerton pretended to be the recipient, nothing would be amiss when he opened the package. Though the name on the package was Carol Holt.
Contacts were always tricky, she knew it was important not to raise his suspicions. She’d found this way worked well. People loved receiving packages, even if it wasn’t really for them. And, he got soap. She’d purchased a few of the upscale soaps, ensuring she’d not left any fingerprints. They would go unnoticed in a police investigation.
She saw the front door open and watched as the target came down the steps to the mail box. He looked around, opened the mailbox and retrieved his mail. She took note that he’d left the door open. She picked up her monocular and dialed in. She saw nothing in the open door, simply a wall, with some painting. She shifted to the windows and saw no movement. She zoomed in on Emerton himself and watched as he sorted through his mail. Then he turned back and went back into the house.
She sat in her car for another hour, then she decided to deliver her package. She pulled out from behind the dumpster and drove down and around and back up the street. She stopped in front of his house. She put on her ball cap with a local delivery service logo on it and got her messenger bag. Putting the package inside, she exited her car. Her eyes scanned the house as she walked up to it. She kept her ears attuned to any noises, especially those of children. She heard nothing.
She got to the door and used her knuckle to ring the doorbell. Her fingers had the coating on them, so no prints on the box. She waited a few moments and the door opened. Her target smiled at her. She returned the smile.
“Hello, I have a delivery for Carol Holt.” She smiled up at him.
“Oh, okay, sure. Thanks.” He grinned and took the package.
“Have a great day sir.” She said and turned away, smiling broadly.
Her mind had taken in his height and calculated his weight and the ease with which to take him down physically. She was adept at hand to hand and combined with her martial arts training over the years, she could kill him with ease. But, if she did that, she might leave DNA. DNA was such a ticklish little thing. Always popping up where you didn’t want it. She fairly skipped back to her car.
Ϫ
Imani moved in the dark like a feline, comfortable and elegant. She hated the cat suit, but there wasn’t much for it. It was in effect a disposable black bodysuit, covering her from neck to ankle. She wore a dark skull cap, which was also disposable. She had NVGs resting on her head. It was the only way she knew to never leave behind evidence. Her weapon was ready, and her knife, a Spearpoint Cowboy Life. It was hand-forged Damascus steel, it was beautiful, it was elegant and it was bloody damned razor sharp and it was not disposable.
She’d gone around to the back, it was near 2:30am. She’d been standing outside the house for about ten minutes, listening and watching. No movements, or sounds. She’d not seen any alarm systems, if there were an alarm to go off, she knew she only had about three minutes to find him and kill him. Nobu could find no evidence for
