The Hitman and His Consort

XIV - Distance

First Person P.O.V: VALENTIN HACKSAW

The following events were hazy if not prosaic, like a tiresome routine chore. We knocked him out again and stuffed him in the car. Denis and I dropped him off at a random area and left him to fend for himself sooner or later. He’ll find a way home, eventually. Then we regrouped into another dark alley, by then Arthur was already out of her disguise, wearing her cargo pants, boots, and sleeveless turtlenecks.

I did kind of look suspicious for two vehicles to park in a place like that but better than talking out in the open.

Denis stayed in the car while I sat on the hood. Arthur sniffled weakly every now and then but more than her periodic hiccup what annoyed me was the loud silence between us, she refuses to meet my eyes. I’m not very sure why she would be crying still, if the fact was her brother is still alive shouldn’t she act more lively than this?

My patience is at its limits and I’m ready to confront her and tell her to get a grip but Inka got off the van, just in time before I could hold out some of my stuff I left to them for safekeeping when we headed to the party. I took them and shoved them back in their original places, keys of the car I used earlier in my pocket, the gun in its holster, and the knife to its sheath.

Inka glanced at Arthur before crossing her arms, “I guess… we need to tweak the plans a little,” she began, and at the corner of my eye I saw Arthur massage her arms, ignoring this I nodded to Inka,

“That would be… wise,” I affirmed,

“What are we talking about?” was Denis’ voice, maybe he got off the car earlier and got curious at the sight of this Amazonian before me, shamelessly eyeing her up.

Inka, on the other hand, like any other normal human being, didn’t appreciate the gesture and looked at Denis with a frown and the mildest hint of disgust. Facial expression mapping and distinction was always a funny sport for me, but this one was plain comical.

“Who’s this?” she asked, a hand on her hip,

Denis, looking up to meet her eyes, offered his hand, “Denis, I’m his brother,” he introduced.

Inka ignored him as she faced me again. “Why’s he here?” she asked, and I tapped the hood of the car.

“I needed a ride,” was my simple explanation. She didn’t seem pleased with it though.

“You can’t just rope random people in this, Valya, if you’re bringing in help at least bring along someone with more muscle,” she scolded, and that seemed to hit a critical spot in Denis’ pride since his sleazy awestruck expression turned into a shocked and offended one making me snort.

‘She's f*cking merciless,’

I wasn’t able to keep it in and Denis scoffed as he turned to me, “You really couldn’t hold the laughter? Huh? As I am getting disrespected like this?” he said in an outburst, and I chuckled right at his face to confirm his notion.

Huffing, he crossed his arms he frowned at Inka again, “Miss, I’ll have you know that I’m useful in other things! Arthur and—oh s**t,” he stopped in the middle of his tantrum the moment he laid his eyes on the still unstable Art.

“Art sweetheart… Aw, you poor thing,” he cooed as he approached her with open arms. I don’t know what he’s trying to do it’s not like Art would just actually walk into his welcoming arms—she did.

‘What the…’

I watched as her slightly smaller figure, compared to Denis that is, melted into his arms as he started rubbing circles on her back, continuing to coo at her, “You two have been here all the time and none of you thought she needed a hug? She’s going through a crisis right now!” he hissed, shifting his gaze between me and Inka.

“I was trying to give her space!” Inka defended in a hushed tone,

“Understandable, I guess,” Denis said with an eye roll before looking at me,

“I didn’t know she needed one,” was my defense,

“I expected nothing from you, yet I still get disappointed,” Denis sighed,

Once again a silent moment passed while Denis was comforting Art. Inka and I resumed the discussion.

“So back to the tweaking, what’s our best option right now?” she began, and I tugged at my coat,

“Mind if I smoke?” I asked,

“Nah,” she assured

Lighting a stick and sucking in a breath, “I think we could at least try to get in contact with Pierre,” I suggested, smoke coming out as I spoke. Inka tilted her head with a shrug.

“Undercover or do you want to pull another kidnapping scheme?” she asked. I’m not sure about the in-depth details so I just try to make up as I go,

I sucked in another huff, “I doubt it, the doctor said Pierre won’t speak even if his life is threatened, so we need to play by his terms,” I added, making her nod.

“Word says he’s kinder to the press more than anything,” she said, making me think she’s insinuating that we pretend like we’re part of the press just to get close to him. As good as it might sound, I doubt it could be that simple. There must be some underlying reason why rumors like that got spread around.

“I don’t know about you but that sounds like a trap, that sort of image that he has been kind to the press seems like a f*ck-ton of propaganda to have them flock to him,” I said, and despite it being just a hunch she seems to take it into consideration and look at it from my perspective.

She then turned to Denis who’s now fanning Art with his handkerchief as she started to calm down and smile a little. They’re whispering about something and every now and then Art would crack a smile,

‘What an entertaining clown, this brother of mine,’

“Any input from either of you?” I asked, making Denis roll his eyes, whispering something to Arthur again to make her chuckle a little before straightening up and stretching her arms and taking a deep breath,

“Okay, back to work, I think we should just try to survey him from a distance, understand his routine a little and see if we can see or find anything useful, if not we take a step close to him until we do,” she said, there are still minor cracks on her voice but at least she’s taking part in the conversation now.

This is her mission, after all.

Denis went back to the spot beside me and I couldn’t help but throw him a subtle grimace that he saw and mirrored. Always the emotional expert, he is. Back to the discussion I just nodded and puffed out a cloud, “That could work, but we’re going to be on stake-out waiting for hours on end for either something insignificant to nothing,” I explained, and once again we bathed in loud silence.

“Better than nothing,” Inka said with a shrug,

I tilted my head with a shrug and I suppose that was all I could expect for tonight’s brainstorming, “If this is all we can talk about tonight I suggest sleeping on things and trying again tomorrow,” I suggested and Inka scratched her nape with yet another shrug,

“Yeah, I guess… I’ll just call you then, Valya,” Art said with a sheepish nod and an awkward smile and I nod back, she then turned to Denis and did the same.

We walked back to the car and Denis drove away, I did tell him to take a detour to the hotel we camped in earlier so I can get the car and we drove home separately.

The thoughts of what happened today still lingered in my mind even as I lay on my bed. It made me think I could hang around for a little more just in case this rabbit hole went deeper. Sleep barely came and when morning came, I felt drained that despite being wide awake I remained in bed.

Like a degenerate.

I couldn’t bring myself to sit up, it was an unfamiliar emotion of annoyance and tiredness and both are accounted for since I didn’t get proper sleep.

“Valya?” it was dad who called from outside my room,

“It’s open, dad” I replied, and he welcomed himself in,

He looked around my room and he smiled at the succulents placed on my desk, “Those are cute,” he said before sitting on the edge of my bed, I sat up to meet his eyes and he sighed.

“Valya, I leaving tomorrow morning,” he began, I’m not even surprised, but this one, in particular, is quite early. Two days is definitely his shortest stay despite him being gone for a month,

“Why so soon?” I asked,

He crossed his legs and pursed his lips, “Because… I think I’m getting close to getting my closure, and the sooner I get that the sooner this whole ‘leaving’ thing would be over,” he said which gave me zero clarity, it did look like something personal to him so I doubt it's anything that’s of interest to me.

“Take care, dad,” was all I could offer him at this point.

He nodded and walked to the door, “Oh, and if you have nothing to do could you maybe… help me?” he offered,

“I’m meeting Art later, more or less…” I replied, making him smile knowingly,

“Oh, okay, okay, sure, that’s justifiable, y’all have fun,” he said before leaving the room, closing the door behind him.

But now that he made me sit up, I’m too bothered to lie back down and decided to do something productive with my time since I don’t know just how much of today I’ll spend alone until Inka and Arthur gets a grip of the situation and find a use for me eventually.

I stood up and headed to the basement, it was a good time to clean some of my stuff. When I finally reached the dark and cold brick walls of the basement, switching the lights open, I was reminded of just how much I used this room before.

Corkboards filled with profiles and details of my past missions took over almost a whole side of wall, while the others were filled with mounted weapons and t*rture devices. I still have that car battery Rodrigo loaned me when I told him I needed one. He would probably hate to know what I did using this stuff.

I laid out my usual gun, the Smith & Wesson 500. It’s impractical, bulky, and opposed to the gun requirements of my career. Being stealthy and silent is out of the picture. I adored it. That was probably the first time I was so insistent on taking only one thing with me at all times, perhaps you could say the first time I took my stand and acted so passionately.

Even my mother advised against this, of course, she would, but I loved everything about this gun, but more than anything I love how people say it could kill bears. I know there’s a lot of controversy around this gun, and that’s one of the reasons I’m keeping it. At some point in time, I did get over it, but that’s because I’ve been using it excessively. These days, however, whatever or whoever I’m shooting with this gun should be privileged.

Though I have another pistol, the more dependable and reliable, time-tested 1911 45 ACP, one with a good rep and for good reason. Good vanity and specs. It’s no wonder men get their d***s hard just holding these.

I never did bother with suppressors and the like, first because of the nature of my guns and second ‘cause I never shot someone in a time and place where the noise would be noticeable, I did recall drawing my gun in a club but that was in a club, if not drugged up, high or drunk, the only sober person that would notice something like that would be that one coward who’d rather not investigate further.

I also have knives but the only one I carry was this tactical knife Diana gave me as a gift, the Gerber Mark II, a partial double-edged blade from halfway up with small saw-like grooves halfway down. I like it, it looks pretty and has good balance.

As I was wiping them down my phone vibrated on the desk, and unknown caller ID once again, I managed to take a glance at the time, it seems that time passed while I was down here. I was too immersed. I answered the call and immediately recognized Art’s voice,

“Valya, good morning!”

“It’s 12:32, ‘morning’ was three hours ago,”

“Yeah, it’s so nice to hear from you too, anyway, you got time?”

“… I suppose,”

“Great, let’s go grab lunch at that burger place we went to last time,” she cheered,

“Alright,” I said, the call disconnected after that. I stretched my arms a bit before taking my stuff back up and bringing it to my room, got dressed, and equipped my freshly cleaned ‘stuff’. I really don’t want to go for the extra trouble of bringing a car and I’m just getting a cab.

I got to the place and sure enough, I saw Arthur waiting outside with her usual get-up. We nodded to each other as we went in and placed our orders and waited before we find a spot. Once we did, without speaking a word to one another, we just sat down and enjoyed the meal.

“This is nice…” Arthur said as she wiped the corners of her mouth soon after she finished her food.

“It’s so-so,” I added,

“Not the food, dummy, just… eating with a friend, it’s nice,” She corrected, smiling rather tepidly before dragging her hands across her face with a sigh, “Ignore that moment of sentimental, crap please,” she followed making me hum,

“No need to tell me,” I replied, making her snort and roll her eyes,

“Well, okay putting that aside, Inka and I thought that we should go with what he had in mind last night, you know, keeping distance and all of that, we keep close watch but avoid any instance of interaction, will you be okay with stakeouts and waiting?” she asked, and I nodded, wiping the corners of my mouth.

“I have nothing better to do anyways,”

“Great, let’s go,” she said, and we were off to where I have no idea. Yet once again, despite knowing our mode of transportation, seeing her daunting bulldozer of motorcycle still managed to dispirit me. She threw me the spare helmet as she put on hers and I assumed my spot behind her.

“Hold on~” she sang,

“Tightly” I affirmed,

Soon enough we were once again zooming through the road towards the direction of the labs and turned through the bustling roads within that vicinity until we stopped at a library, she parked the bike and I looked around before looking at her and waiting for some sort of explanation.

She gestured me to follow inside the quiet building and our steps echoed against the hardwood floors of the entrance, she headed to the reception and handed the plump elderly woman the keys to her bike, “We’ll be leaving it here, ma’am,” Arthur whispered,

The woman stared at her for a few seconds before sighing and taking the key, “Oh Arthur, you need to stop treating my building as a parking lot,” she scolded.

That didn’t dishearten Arthur though, in fact as we walked out she remained flashing that beaming smile of hers before she faced me and pulled something out of her pocket, a flat circular canister, “We’ll need to get rid of that white hair,” she announced, opening the canister up and revealing a black, wax-like substance.

“Why?”

“It’s noticeable,”

“Because you keep looking,”

“No, it’s just really noticeable,”

“Fine,”

“Good, bend down here, please”

I did as I was told and I felt her work the colors onto the white patch of my hair. It took a little while before she announced, “Alright,” and I assumed by that I can straighten up,

“Drastic change?” I asked. It was sarcastic.

“Phenomenal,” she replied, playing along and I couldn’t help but smile at how whimsical we’ve become. From that point on started the actual stalking and spying around the driven pharmaceutical researcher himself, Pierre Lovanné.