The Liberal Assassin

Strategic Planning In The Bath

My numb fingertips were sorry reminders of last night's personal hell. I had no time for even a small bathroom break while typing endlessly throughout the night. Despite the tortuous hours spent on digging up dirt from the massive information mountain, Cain had been extremely helpful and I got what I needed in no time. Unfortunately, that didn't make the process any shorter.

Sitting in a cosy corner on my favourite chair, I severely underestimated the power of luxury. Fighting fatigue and heavy eyelids, I pinched my cheeks only to wince at the sharp pain. When the distraction didn't work, I took it up a notch and threw in a few slaps. Not wanting to sleep the day away, I struggled to focus on the book in my lap.

Instead of devouring the information like usual, my eyes simply glazed over the squiggles and my mind registered none of it. Blinking once and then twice, focussing became impossible and the image before me turned blurry. A yawn was coming and I regretted the decision to suppress it. As soon as I suppressed the yawn, the words become nothing more than swirls of black on yellowed pages as wetness gathered at the corners of my eyes. Not even the mightiest hitman could defeat teary eyes and exhaustion combined. Sinking deeper into the chair, I wondered if it was always so comfortable.

By the time I snapped back to the present, Pyros was already a golden orange outside. That alone shocked me terribly. Where had the time gone?

Feet shuffling towards the window to have a better look, I numbly registered bumping into several objects with my uncoordinated body. Pyros was indeed setting and I groaned. An entire day in the library just gone with a blink … a very long blink.

Deciding to salvage whatever time I had left, I leapt from the window back to my room. Every spare second I had left is highly crucial for the preparation of tonight's operation. Even with knowledge of where Mia's body was kept, I needed a strategy to infiltrate the enemy's quarters. A poorly made plan was the road to failure and I couldn't afford to fail tonight.

The Patrol Guards were strangely secretive about the body in the name of protecting the evidence. Nash and I had our theories about it. There is no way the Parliament is unaware about the incident. Shortly after the news was published, the amateur news reporter who had written the article was evicted from the Inner City. Nash is keeping his eye on the poor fellow in case they decided to tie their loose ends. If this didn't scream suspicious, nothing would.

Why human experimentations? It was as good as anyone's guess. There were a few theories that I hadn't shared with Nash yet as I wanted to confirm them with the evidence I would acquire tonight.

Just as I was about to hit the showers, Kevin's mechanical voice reminded me of a special delivery I needed to send. Knowing that Kevin's artificial intelligence was personally modified reassured me greatly. "Prepare two drones to Mr N's place. The packages are in the fridge, already wrapped. Alert me if there is any interference."

"Right away, sir."

Heading for the showers, I heard Mini Kevin buzzing about to ready the delivery. Nash was probably going to celebrate when he receives the new batch of Pantiumite, courtesy of my most beloved rival.

Unlike the other Pantiumite supplies sent, this is the first Pantiumite supply in pill form. The gaseous and liquid Pantiumite served their purpose well enough but nothing beats a solid Pantiumite. The people living in the Slums could never afford the pill version because of how expensive they were. A pill does not expire or deteriorate in condition over time. The liquid version becomes stale and less effective with time but still worked well. Gaseous Pantiumite were the easiest to acquire but was the least effective as most of it escaped into the atmosphere over time. As much as I wanted to smuggle pill Pantiumite, I had limitations due to how rare they are even in the Inner City. Most the time I'll smuggle the liquid Pantiumite from the labs or trade information with the media for a bulk of gaseous ones.

The generous Raoul was in a sour mood for a while even after 'donating' his creations for a good cause. From what I know, they were his most successful batch and the client it was meant for became unamused when it mysteriously disappeared overnight. I ought to thank him for saving me the trip to Centurion but I won't do it just in case it causes his head to swell and pop. Nobody wants to be accused of murder after all.

A long bath sounded just about right. I needed to have a clear mind for tonight's mission and my current state of mind simply wouldn't do. While I left the tub to fill, I started scrubbing myself clean in the shower. It would be nice to just soak and maybe take a nap while I was at it. As comfortable as the library chairs were, it was just not the same kind of quality rest I would get in my bed. A bathtub was not the most ideal of places to sleep but I didn't have the luxury now.

As the last traces of soap rinsed off, the mirror became misty. Absentmindedly I began drawing patterns on the glass. It started off with simple shapes and smiley faces, nothing serious, just completely random. I wasn't sure when it morphed into something more. The doodles started to make sense and I found myself staring at something akin to a strategy plan.

Taking a step back, I took a moment to capture the full picture. There were two triangles to the left and a smiley face at the bottom corner. Spencer's name was written at the top and a huge question mark was drawn in the middle. Even with Cain's help last night, there was nothing useful. All we found was an unknown number in Spencer's call history. With much hacking, we finally nailed a location to the number and of all the places, it had to be Area Forty-One – the famed loony bin that everybody avoids.

Sighing heavily, I left the smart glass and slowly submerged myself in the tub. Just having warm water rise above my shoulder was enough to turn me into a puddle of goo.

I closed my eyes for a moment and immediately frowned. Something felt off. Eyes snapping open I was greeted by the sight of a duckless bath.

Allen! How could I have forgotten him? Allen was a handsome self-inflating turquoise duck that Nash gave me for my birthday when I was younger. Even after so many years, Allen was still my bath time companion. He was simply too adorable and I couldn't part with him.

Without further delay, I grabbed the duck and sat back down in the tub. Allen bobbed in the water as I shifted myself into a more comfortable position as if protesting. Those eyes seemed to chide me and I mumbled apologies. Bath toys don't speak but Allen was more than a bath toy. He was my very first friend.

Those tiny beady eyes bore into my soul and I averted all eye contact. He knows what I had been doing and I felt guilty for making the little guy worry. The stare burned and I just knew what he would say if he could talk.

"Don't worry. After tonight I might be taking a longer break. I just need to figure out some stuff first."

Allen seemed to smile with the sight curving of his beak but I was sure it was all in my head when his familiar baritone voice spoke to me. [What is it that you are concerned about?]

I glanced at the mirror and Allen seemed to follow my sight, bobbing slightly in the water. "I need to run to three different places tonight and do at least three different things. I'm not sure how I'm going to pull this off."

Allen chuckled. [Titus, you've gone out there as at least three different kinds of people. You're the book lover with Mrs Peterman, Sirius with Alastair, a good-for-nothing i***t with Raoul, a kid to Nash, a major criminal to the Inner City, a playboy at parties and so much more. How can this be any different from what you have been doing?]

I groaned and slunk deeper into the tub. "It's not that simple, Allen," was what I wanted to say. What came out was a bunch of gibberish in the form of air bubbles from my semi-submerged head in the water. The little duck looked at me, unimpressed.

Sighing, I sat up properly and took Allen in my hands. "I was one person wearing many hats back then."

Tapping his rubber beak lightly, I continued, "Tonight I have to be at three places to do three different things and it's just not physically possible."

Allen raised an imaginary eyebrow. [Really? After so many years training under Nash have you really not learnt a thing? What's a hitman's true mission?]

"To kill the target... Nash forbade me to do that and you know it! Besides, tonight's mission is not that kind of mission. You know better what Night Walker does… he's no murderer. That man's just a petty thief stealing from the rich and giving the poor."

During my monologue, I raised the turquoise duck above my head to admire the light bouncing off his feathers when he slipped out from my grip.

Allen smacked me right in the face and I could already imagine the scowl.

[You're truly an i***t. That's not what I meant. And you know how I feel about it when you talk about the Night Walker like that. Listen, a hitman doesn't always have to do the killing. He just has to ensure the target is dead. Is that not how it works? There are always many ways of going around doing something and still get the same results.]

I stared long and hard at the turquoise duck who bobbed uncaringly in the bathtub with his back turned to me. Something clicked and suddenly everything made sense. "That's it! Allen, you're a genius!" Scooping the poor fellow up in my hands, I placed a slobbery kiss on his head.

I could almost hear the annoyance and growling when I did that. [No, I'm not. You are Titus. After all, I'm inside your head.]

Laughing unrestrained for the first time in a while, I beamed. "You're absolutely right, Allen. I'm a genius and thank you. I know what I have to do now, you're the best!"

The beady eyes seemed to shine under the light as if telling me to kick some butt. By now the water was already cooling and my prune fingers were enough indication of the time I spent in there. Setting Allen back to where he was, I drained the tub and grabbed a towel. The scribbles on the foggy mirror were blurry but still present. Suddenly it became very clear. Out of urge, I drew a big fat cross over both triangles and an arrow from the question mark in the centre to the smiley face. Satisfied with the correction, I went to don the Night Walker's suit.