The Hitman and His Consort

XVIII - Hidden

First Person P.O.V: VALENTIN HACKSAW

I can feel Denis’ gaze on me for a moment. Maybe he’s expecting me to gush and say ‘OH I’VE BEEN HERE!’ like an excited little kid but I couldn’t be more pissed about this f*cking development. Why does it have to be tied to here of all f*cking places? I sure f*cking hope I don’t see her here because I don’t know what I would do.

Then again, I would probably do nothing—what the hell am I so f*****g pressed for?

Back to our job, we watched as the cars and the motorcycle then parked on the side of the street, where three other men waited for them.

They conversed a little before they were granted access to the barricaded entrance to some sort of parking-lot area at the back of the lab, it’s unsurprising to know that they have such a thing, they probably have to deal with a lot of transport material since they are a lab and all they must’ve had all sorts of thing transported from other places so they need that area.

Then again, by 'all sort of things’ I wouldn’t have expected science to go so far as do research on firearms, I didn’t know that’s something they do studies on, if it was I wouldn’t have crippled my science teacher just so I’d skip it, then again it’s irrelevant but that tactic didn’t work, he was easily replaced.

“Damn, we can’t follow them up in there,” Denis hissed,

“But we need to,” is what I countered him. I’m not sure how I’m going to get in there, but I’ll be damned if I couldn’t go through that tonight, not with this f*****g development. I can’t explain it but I need to find out what’s the relation between Mariella Labs with three crates-full of weaponry.

“Look, Valya, I love the enthusiasm—I really do, but what can we do? Are you planning to infiltrate the place?” he asked.

I shook my head as I continued to look at the barricaded door, obviously not opening for me anytime soon, “Like hell, that place has more security than f*cking Fort Knox,” I replied, making him hum.

“You know I didn’t want to say this but you’re carrying some sort of emotional baggage today,” Denis quipped, looking at me his arms crossed against his chest with an expectant look on his face like I would either confirm or deny his claims like he’s my f*****g therapist when I already have one that I actually pay for and I still hate it.

“I don’t know what sh*t you’re on about, but that’s irrelevant,” I replied as I try to formulate a plan in my head over the background noise that is Denis’ ramblings about emotional maturity and intelligence, it’s not the first time he’s tried to lecture me about it and years passed without changes so at this point he’s just kidding himself.

I think I should just wait until they finished and try to get the one on the motorcycle; I need to get some answers on this part first, the lab’s relation with these back-door gun dealers, and work from there.

Art’s business and cases are apart from mine and I have no intention of doing this to help her since I didn’t even know the labs were even involved in the first place and in the events that I found something that might help her it’s no obligation of mine to provide that information to her in the premises that I’m no longer working with her—

‘Why am I explaining this to myself?’

“What are we doing now?” Denis asked, I’ve just noticed but I’m doing most of the conversing to myself but it really annoys me that he can’t connect the dots in his head, maybe he should follow my train of thought for once rather than waiting for me to explain everything to him.

'Great, now I'm unreasonable—f*ckin—'

Pulling out a placing it on my lips, I turned to him, “I’m going to wait for one of those troublesome staff members for interrogation, I just want to know who’s their customer and why they need to do it covertly when their partners pay due price, if one doesn’t speak… then I’ll try again, there’s five of them after all,” I explained and he nodded.

He agreed with it, seeing as he remained in his spot, probably willing to wait it out for over three hours before he’d eventually start whining about it.

Time couldn’t move any slower when you’re waiting and that’s exactly what happened, I already hated waiting enough as it is, waiting for a long time is almost like a dead fly on top of a crap dish, when the cars and the motorcycle got out of the premises, Denis barely noticed since he was on the phone talking to someone about something insignificant to me.

Soon enough, we were on their tail, and we’re not trying to be subtle about it either. My target, as I’ve told before, is the guy on the motorcycle. I just wanted to run him over. He’s not going to die from a minor collision, isn’t he?

“We can't run him over on a busy road, Valya,” Denis quipped in the silence of our car ride, which then became a car chase because this motorcycle man is not as stupid as I thought he was and caught on that he was being chased.

And you know what he does? F*cking drives away to the other ends of the city, the parts where there are fewer people, in other words, my f*****g workplace, what’s more, is that he actually split up with his friends, things have been made so easy for me. So far, this has been a roller coaster of thought, I thought he was smart, turns out he was dumb, then he shows a hint of intelligence, only to become overpowered with greater doses of idiocy.

Once we’re onto less populated areas, I pulled out the old S&W for old times’ sake and shot the back wheel, which is challenging to get first try,

‘But what the f**k is a challenge for me these days?’

After the vehicle lost balance, I watched as he finally gets thrown off and ends up in a nasty fall. He rolled off a couple of times before he hits a stop when the garbage bags by streetlights nestled him. Denis pulled over right next to his, hopefully alive, body.

We got off to look at him directly, to set the tone of our interaction I gave him a complimentary kick to the gut, he groaned so he’s conscious, good for him, crouching down to meet his eyes easier I immediately noticed the sheer fear in his face the moment he recognized who I was.

“s**t—” was all he could say before we started f*cking with him for fun, like orcas to every viable victim in the ocean.

“You f*cked up,” – Denis

“You’re really f*cked,” – Me

“We’ll have to kill you now,” – Denis

“Killing you is right, but skin you alive too, its Javier’s orders,” –Me

“Man’s real messed up, I’m getting chills just thinking 'bout it,” – Denis

“Same, same, look at this b*tch–what did you do to those guns?” – Me

“You sold them to a drug dealer? Oh, you’re real f*cked now, I’ll pull your f*****g nails out,” – Denis

“I’ll punch your face until your teeth’s all gone then feed them to you” – Me

While all of that rapidly fired at him one after the other I watched as he struggled to catch up to the sh*t we were saying, which were all just bull because no one has time to get through all of that tonight, I raised a hand to gesture to Denis that we were done.

“…Mr. Ahn wanted me dead,” the man said in disbelief like he did nothing to warrant such order,

“If I were him I asked for you to be ground alive,” I told him,

With a scoff Denis followed, “yeah, you don’t deserve the good ol’ lynching,” he spat, making the guy frown either offended or confused, but either way, it doesn’t matter. Denis and I held onto each of his arms and loaded him into the trunk.

I did think the usual spot was good but not this one, for some reason I wanted to bring him home, he looks like he’s stupid so he wouldn’t recognize my house or even think I brought him home, the more reason to bring him there.

Once we got home, I put on some final touches, a bag over his head, as I drag him to the basement. Denis stayed for some reason, and since he was already there, he helped me tie this guy to the chair. After settling him down so he’s nice and comfy on his seat,

‘Hilarious’

His back taped to the backrest, his arms tied to the armrest with his hands spread open and the fingers taped individual to place, and his legs well… tied to the legs on the chair, his neck was the only thing he can move freely, I love this position because it gives me clear views on all the spots I can hurt him in, I usually do bottom-up so in the unlikely event that they got out of the bindings, they’d have no other option but to crawl.

One should be aware that crawling is the poorest and slowest mode of escaping. Sometimes I intentionally let them off and watch them struggle to crawl across the room. The moment of realization when they look at me with tears in their eyes as if to say, ‘I’m not getting out of here, am I?’ breaks them more than I ever could.

I pulled the cover on his head off and he frantically looked around the place. Unfortunately, basements tend to be dark when you only open a single overhead light that Denis insisted on to set the mood, again. What is with this guy and his obsession to treat our victims like his s*x friends?

'Ah...I'm f*cking funny...'

“I don’t know anything, I swear I was just roped into it!” he yelled, despite this being my second impression of him, my initial judgment prevails that he is an i***t.

I punched him across the face enough to give him whiplash. His mouth bled a little and there was a cut on his lip. He slowly faced his head towards me again, gulping as his nails somewhat scrape a thin coat of varnish on the wooden chair. But what’s that going to do? Once he was looking at me again, I cracked my knuckles.

“Listen, you won’t survive this… you’ll die here, your friends and boss wouldn’t give a f*ck about you, but once you tell me everything I’ll kill you and end your suffering, they won’t be able to hunt you down if you’re dead, sounds like a good deal right?” I told him, watching him seem to think it over.

“I can’t,” he replied, looking away from me again, being dramatic for no f*cking reason,

“You know, how about I throw in a little bonus for you? How about… I get your girl? You can die together in here,” I offered, using significant others as a scare tactic works like a f*****g charm. The man stared at me with bloodshot eyes, jaw clenched.

“Leave Mark, out of this,” he answered,

“Oh, so no girl, but you have a man, that’s okay, we’re not prejudiced, E for equality, right?” I said, honestly I couldn’t care less, I just wanted this to end as much as he does unless he’s into something like this too, it’s hard to gauge just how much a person will tolerate sh*t when they like men because men are tragedies by itself and I’ve been told the bar for men was set under the Mariana trench.

What I said seemed to resonate with him a little better than my previous offers, he gulped again and sucked in a sharp breath, “I didn’t want to go behind Mr. Ahn, but the other party said that they’re only temporary customers,” he began,

See how a complete 180 turn from not knowing anything to a f*cking narrative is triggered with a single threat, granted it doesn’t work all the time, if we exchanged positions where I was the one being interrogated I’d be more probable for me to fess up because I was bored than for me to speak out of protecting a significant other.

“Temporary customers?” Denis repeated,

“Yes, they’re just curious what kind of guns Mr.Ahn was selling so they ordered gradually, they begun with small amounts so I thought—no, we thought there was no trouble, they were giving us generous tips too,” he added,

“Who are ‘they’?” I asked again,

“The ones in the lab,” he answered.

“No sh*t, Sherlock—who?!” Denis yelled, losing patience faster than I am.

“The one lady wearing the soldier's uniform! I don’t know anything, it's Jacob who does,” he explained and Denis sighed, running his fingers through his hair in exasperation. He tapped my shoulder and gestured for me to follow him to one corner of the room,

“We should substitute, what the f*ck is up with this setup—soldiers?!” he hissed visibly frustrated with this advancement,

“I’d be too much trouble than what I’m more willing to push through,” I shot back. There is no way I’ll be setting foot outside again tonight.

Worst-case scenario, I just take what I can and just tell Javier that people in the Mariella Labs are trying to take hold of his stuff and he better warn his future staff that he’d get them killed if they try the same s**t like this.

To be honest, I think I’d be done at that.

But something clawing at the back of my head, call it poor judgment or hyper fixation, which would only last for a few hours, tells me that I need to get my answers now and it needs to be from him. Shutting my eyes, I sighed before walking back to him, “Hey, listen, how ‘bout this, I’ll keep you alive if you speak,” I bargained again,

“Then you’ll kill me once I stopped speaking? I already know—”

“Sh*t, do you think I’d play mind games with an i***t? Your partner probably only likes you because he's into slapstick,” I countered, pinching the bridge of my nose. He looked offended by that, but that’s beside the point. I leaned close, placing a hand on his bound shoulder.

“This is a once-in-a-lifetime deal for you, speak now or forever hold your peace,” I pressed, just hardly whispering the last part enough for him to hear.

He shook his head in an exasperated manner before taking in a deep breath. “Look, I don’t know much, all I know is that we’re doing this because our customers don’t like to be identified,” he began,

“But do you identify them?” Denis asked,

The man nodded, “If you mean how they look like, yeah, there was this one rich guy with a weird mustache, a woman in the soldier uniform, like I said before, and then there’s this blonde man who looks like he’s bald because his hair is exceptionally slicked-back,” he listed, and I don’t know who those people are except for the bright blonde man with slick back hair.

I stalked Pierre long enough to know it’s him, even when his description is filled with derogative remarks, and I thought the same too.

“Why didn’t they want to be recognized?” I asked again,

In response, the man shrugged, “Man, I’m telling you, I don’t know! The lady was just going on about how they should improve their artillery to be like Mr. Ahn’s but they don’t know where he gets it." he replied, following up with a sigh, "They asked us but we told her that we don’t know either,” he finished.

There was literally nothing to be found off of this. Maybe Denis was right. We need a substitute.

“What kind of guns were they ordering?” Denis asked, reminding me that I should rearrange my line of questioning,

“They order everything, mostly long-range rifles and sub-machine guns, they order the heavy military-grade ones,” the man answered to my complete f*****g obliviousness. I don’t know what sort of relationship I can make between a laboratory and guns that are in connection to Art’s missing brother because whether I accept it or not, that’s what I’ve been thinking about all this time.

“What are they planning to do with those?” I asked,

“Dude—I DON’T KNOW! It’s not like they tell us s**t, they just met us once because we were wearing our uniforms one time when we were getting food and they have this car they drove by us and gave us their card and it started from there, and up until now I don’t know much sh*t!” he yelled, veins popping out of his neck,

Now I’m f*cking pissed because that’s literally nothing, I grabbed my gun and pressed it firmly against his forehead, “Watch…your…tone..” I warned. I can’t have him yelling around in my basement, especially when he has nothing good to say.

I just exhaled and left the room, Denis right behind me he took note of my frustration because the next thing I knew is he was patting my shoulder while rubbing my back as if to console me over a death of a loved one, “we’ll get them next time, Valya,” he cooed,

“What the hell are you talking about?” I said to him,

“Well, you’re upset aren’t you? Wanted to find out something about the deal that could help Art, right?” he replied.

‘What the f**k is going on, how does he know the stupid sh*t but he can’t connect the dots in his little head when it comes to our missions?’

“Your face is saying ‘How did he know’ like you weren’t mucking around all day upset out of your ass, grumbling like a literal child, and being dumped by Art wasn’t the sole reason, so you got it in and over your head finding ways to please her and make her take you back,” he added.

Droning like he was reading it on a piece of paper, maintaining eye contact. Never have I been more impressed with Denis and it’s a sad realization that his only talent was reading people like tarot cards.

“You should get paid for this, buy a book to keep you entertained so you don’t waste your time thinking of useless sh*t like this,” I replied to him because I’ll be damned if I admit he was mildly right. It’s a reach to say I was doing this to please Art.

"Uh-huh, sure, buddy, but don't you come to me for advice in the near future, I will..." he trailed off, looking at me up and down, "welcome you with open arms," he followed with a shrug, making me roll my eyes as I head back to my room, a night's rest is probably something I'd need,

Nevertheless, I am trying again tomorrow; I want to at least give a full detailed report to Javier because that man is paying me on top of giving me a gun, I should give him his due and if I found anything related to Art’s mission, I won’t look for it particularly, then I’ll… tell her if I have time or if I met her by chance.