The Ghost of Greece ~ A Drakos Dynasty Novel~

6 - How to Distract A Ghost

“Fuuuck!” He threw his key and walled halfway across the room upon entering.

Twice now she had tempted him to the edge of sensations and feeling far more intense than he could ever recall. Also twice now, she had left him standing appraised and wanting. There was no woman since his first time at fifteen with woman of nineteen, had he felt so much destitution to have something. She was not just a fancy or desire, Scarlett seemed to be a requirement to survive.

His phone on the nightstand was faintly vibrating. Burner phone. Damn.

“Yes?” Kris answered.

“Secure?” a female voice said firmly on the other end.

“Secure.”

“Diego Ortego, Spanish Fashion Industry Billionaire, child trafficking. Mark $5 mil. Half and half. Agreed?”

This was the calls he received. Name, industry, crimes, price to kill. Pay out half now, half when done. They were the best kind. Rarely at this point in his reputation did he get one that didn’t pay half up front. His reputation was world renowned and his identity was a complete mystery. All his burner phones were built with voice enhancing sounds to keep his true voice covert.  This one wasn’t a very copious price considering Ortego was worth over sixty four billion dollars and a prominently known figure throughout the world and fashion industry. He was tired of working for pennies. He was The Ghost of Greece not some trivial street killer who was trying to make his reputation recognized.

“Ten.”

“Seven”

“Eleven. I can go on.”

“Fine. Ten. Agreed?” the female voice on the other end said hesitantly.

“Agreed. Locale?”

“St. Mark’s Square. 3 p.m. tomorrow. Seven minute window. Schematics sent to text. Burn when done.”

“Done.” Kristos hung up and pulled the suitcase out from under his bed.

It was a large suitcase full of clothes upon looking but hidden underneath the clothes in a secret stash were several guns, bullets and other paraphernalia to complete his task. His baby, his first love and the one he would never give up for anyone was the CZ 75 SP-01 tactical in urban grey. She was customized to fit his hand and shoot with more power than most. This gun usually cost around $1100 dollars but Kristos’ special…it was over five thousand of upgrades and design. Solid urban grey with silencer to match it was one gorgeous piece. He called her Zoey. And her sister gun in solid white alabaster tone was Maya. This project however might take his DAN .338 sniper rifle with bipod and sight and silencer.

Taking a look at the schematics, it was a close range walk by shooting or at best a quick distance in and out. That would be harder. It would need to be quick, efficient and unnoticed in the middle of the afternoon by hundreds. Perhaps a gun wasn’t the answer at all. Poison? No closeness wasn’t warranted. He would wait. Hide up top and when the pig entered the building, he would take his shot. Preparing his DAN .338, Kristos planned out his entrance, his wait time and how long it would take to exit. This was going to take a bit more acrobatics than he had accomplished in a while but the thought was exciting. He needed this distraction and just prayed the other distraction would deter his otherwise perfect record.

It took about half an hour and everything was ready. He stowed it neatly under the bed and decided to go work out down at the internal gym. Maybe working off some steam would possibly pull The Ghost back into focus. He needed focus. Well, truth be told he needed to spend all his energy pleasing her body for hours but for now, a workout would have to do.

Heading to the third floor after changing into Nike Shorts and dri fit tank, Kristos prayed he didn’t run into Scarlett. He needed this peace. The elevator seemed to stop on every other floor. It was torture and if his life wasn’t f****d enough for the day, the three single ladies from earlier entered the elevator. Kris tried to stay hidden and unnoticed in the back corner behind a family with a fairly loud whining toddler, which apparently the nanny had absolutely no control over. Third floor stop finally arrived and Kris said excuse me and headed off the elevator as quickly as possible. While he was sure the ladies saw him, his lack of recognizing or acknowledging them was hopefully enough to deter them following.

The gym was fairly empty and Kris found a treadmill to run on for an hour. Placing headphones on and plugging them in, he listed to the heaviest rock possible. It shredded his ears, his soul and brought forth the killer ego as his legs pushed through miles of running. This was his escape. Running on a strip of plastic to nowhere with the goal of evading his emotional needs. He was at peace.

~~

The sun was hot that day for Venice. Nearly eighty-eight degrees at 2:45 p.m. Kris was in place, his bipod holding the gun in perfect repose for the hit. Waiting, covered in head to toe goldish attire to blend in with the rooftop, Kris looked at his watch. 2:58 p.m. Ortego entered from the opposite way towards St. Mark’s. What the f**k?

Pulling up the schematic Kris realize the worst. He had read it wrong. First time in his career as The Ghost he was so distracted he had calculated incorrectly. He had six minutes to solve the issue or his hit was a bust and he would be the next on all contact killer’s lists. f**k, f**k, f**k. Was all he could think. A clear shot was not possible from this angle and he would likely hit one of the guards surrounding Ortego instead of actually hitting him. It would take three minutes to get off the roof and two to get in range without being notice. f**k. She f****d up everything.

Standing and ducking down he leapt forward and to the near front edge of the roof top. He had to take the chance. Two shots nearly within less than a few seconds of one another might do the trick. Placing himself set again he pointed at the head of the guard in clear shot range to Ortego. He took a deep breath and took the shot, sliding the barrel more downward nearly instantly he took another shot.

The force of the bullets was quick. He packed up and got out of sight quickly. Sliding down the back of the building he disposed of his guns into a canvas tube and his boot. Slipping off the top shirt and pants he lit them on fire and tossed them into a waste bin, closing the lid. He was in shorts, tank and looked like a tourist with cap, canvas tube and Zoey, his favorite gun tucked in the inside hidden zipper of his combat boots.

Prayers, something he didn’t do often. He was praying his shots made the mark and he would have to go for round two. Heading towards the now screaming crowd, Kristos went to survey his damage. There were police and a circle surrounding two men lying on the ground bleeding. One had a shot to the temple and the other, straight through the ear and out the other side. Ortego lay in a pool of blood and brains. Kristos withheld the satisfactory smile as he headed back to the hotel.  His pocket vibrated and he pulled the burner phone out. The text message read as follows”

“Close one Ghost. Money is deposited. Much obliged.”

Fuckers had been watching. Damn he hated to look weak. He would have to eventually find out who this was and take them out too. Although they seemed to help rid the world of bad guys, Kristos was quite sure it was more like they rid the world of competition.

~~

The afternoon had gone well enough with Jacqueline and Scarlett. They had a good lunch and Jacqueline returned to work nearly an hour late. Mr. Mancini didn’t care as long as Scarlett was well and safe. Jaqueline had always thought it odd how caring Mr. Mancini was towards Scar but she figured Italians love their families.

Scarlett took a long shower and lay down after lunch and visiting. The night of hammering down drinks and the s****l awakening in the elevator had worn her out. She needed rest, revitalization. Curling into her soft down bed, her eyes weren’t open very long and her body was asleep before her brain even had chance to shut off. She needed this slumber, this peace and it lasted long into the next day. Nearly one in the afternoon.

Turning on the television she watched a very humorous comedy show in Italian while she made a grilled cheese. Her stomach was still not entirely happy with her recent choices. Lounging on the couch she had the TV on for companionship and completed a few crossword puzzles in a book of them her mother sent a few weeks ago. Her stomach growled again. Damn, hungry again? She thought to herself looking at the clock on the wall. Three fifteen. She should have crackers or something smart. Turning up the channel she walked to the kitchen to grab some crackers.

‘Breaking news. The Spanish Fashion Industry Billionaire, Diego Ortego was shot today in what seems to be a successful assassination attempt. Reasons are unclear but Ortego’s currently accused practices in the child trafficking syndicate likely play a part. The suspect is unknown at this time but spectators and law enforcement are blaming The Ghost of Greece as this is definitely his modus operandi… More about this during the evening edition.’

Scarlett shook her head. Murder was murder but at least another bad guy was taken out? She struggled with the justification to kill anyone but definitely agreed someone like this needed to be taken out. It was an internal thought and struggle all through her debate career in high school. She could never win because she was always on the fence, finding validity on both sides of the stance. Shrugging she pointed the remoted and changed to some sappy love move and proceeded to eat crackers like she hadn’t eat in a week.