Chapter Ten: The Assassins' Mission

Omar bin Abdullah sat on an armchair in the living room of this scantily furnished two-bedroom apartment. The house was located in St. Petersburg, just outside the town outskirts. This part of the city was a ghost end for prominent people, and decent folks rarely come around this area, as most of the houses looked ghastly wrecked, silhouetted, and dilapidated.

 Its occupants were mostly fugitives, junkies, outlaws, illegal immigrants, prostitutes, and hired assassins.

 Most people who visited this part of the town were there either for an illegal business deal or to book a date with a prostitute. It was a place less known for decent people.

 Omar was in one or two classes of its occupants; he was a fugitive and an illegal immigrant. However, he was most grateful to Boss for having this hole to bury his head in. Bill Brook, an assassin and head of Boss' dirty job gang, had discovered him. Together they had carried out several dangerous assignments. His cruelty and maliciousness in executing his assignments were factors that had impressed Bill, and that had made him recommend Omar to Boss. And In turn, Boss provided him with this apartment. Boss had also assured him of help whenever he needed it, on the condition that he worked for them diligently and also confided in him.

 Boss had strong confidence and faith in this Arab ex-terrorist. He knew how it worked with them and knew they would rather die than expose their link when things turned sour. With that perception, he had provided Omar with a new identity, got him this apartment, and made life comfortable for him to some extent.

 Seated on a sofa opposite him was a blonde girl polishing her nails. Her name was Jennifer Byrne. She looked pretty but evil and cruel. Any girl with a sound mind would have been scared of staying alone with this cruel, scar-faced Arab. But not Jenny; she had handled men tougher than he was.

 Jenny had a rough life from her childhood. She was raised in an orphanage home, and among all the kids in the orphanage house she was raised in, she was the cruelest and deadliest. She was moved to a juvenile penitentiary at the age of seven for stabbing another kid.

 She stayed in the penitentiary until she was twelve, then ran off, and all efforts to find her proved abortive at the time. She had moved into a bigger hoodlum and associated herself with girls of her kind. Guns and knives had been their closest friends. She had learned how to use guns since she was thirteen and had used them several times. She was recently released from prison on parole for the murder of a man whom she had allegedly accused of assaulting her.

 The punishment for her crime at the time was supposed to be death by electric chair or a life sentence. However, she was considered a minor, as she was only fifteen at the time, and so she was given a fair trial. She was fortunate to have gotten a ten-year sentence in a juvenile correction penitentiary, and after five years, she was placed on parole. Nevertheless, the five years she had spent in prison seemed to have toughened her more. She'd went back to the hood in search of her old friends as soon as she was released, but found none of them left in the hood, as most of them were said to have either been killed in gunfights or sent to prison.

 She'd vowed never to go back to prison again, and she would do anything to avoid going back. She had vanished to St. Petersburg in an attempt to start another life on her own.

 She was walking the street one evening when she stumbled on Bill. He'd picked her and found her to be rough and interestingly violent, and this impressed him. If there was one thing that excited him, it was the sound of violence. After learning about her past, it made him love her even more.

 He'd introduced her to Boss, and although Boss never bought the idea of women in his league, he'd disapproved of her at the time.

"I don't want women involved in my games," he had said. "They can easily give a lead on you, and when they are caught, they spill out everything under severe torture," he pointed out.

"Not this one, she is quite different," Bill assured him. "Besides, she's been to prison before, and she has never given out her pals," he said in a rather defensive tone to get Boss to accept her.

"Time might have softened her," Boss swallowed, not wanting to be convinced by the notion that she could endure much torture or stay put for long.

"I'll vouch and take any responsibility on her account," Bill said. "I promise, I'll kill her myself if she tries anything tricky," he assured Boss.

 Boss had agreed to keep her at the time because he had no option. He perceived that Bill was in love with her and couldn't bring himself to hurt her. Besides, nothing he could say would have convinced Bill about her at the time, which is why he'd accepted her into his team.

 However, Jenny had been Boss's biggest fear even from the onset. Aside from being violent and ruthless, she was also rough, and she could handle guns smartly. He feared her recklessness could bring down his hood sooner.

 At first, he had allowed her to stay with Bill. However, the arrival of Omar had changed all that. He persuaded Bill to allow her to stay at Omar's place, with the excuse that her presence in his place could easily attract the cops to him. He'd lectured Bill on the effect this could have on his team if that happened.

 Bill had seen some sense in what Boss said, knowing how easily the cops could have trailed a crime to an ex-con. Besides, Omar posed no threat to him. He was certain that Jenny wasn't his type of woman, and besides, if it came to the worst, he believed she could take care of herself.

 He'd moved her to Omar's place based on those assumptions, unknown to him that Boss had an ulterior motive behind this action. Boss perceived how morbid and fatal this Arab could be, and he perceived that they could kill with no sympathy once given an order. He also perceived that killing women or children was no issue for them. Based on this perception, he'd secretly instructed Omar to keep a close watch on her, and should she do anything that could put them in the red light, he shouldn't hesitate to kill her, even if it was on an assignment.

 Boss was the brain and mastermind behind his hoodlum. He had Jerome as his personal assistant. He had no direct or personal contact with his downlinks, and most of them never knew his real name nor met him in person, except for Jerome and Bill.

 Jerome monitored all activities in the hood and reported his observations to Boss, who in turn made arrangements and plans on what steps to take. He also introduced ideas on possible operations to be delegated upon. And as for Boss, he was responsible for organizing most of the crimes and atrocities around the city.

 Bill, on the other hand, recruits and selects new able members whom he introduces to Boss in an indirect setting. Although most of them had met him in person, but they never knew he was the man behind the mask and the one responsible for their upkeep, as he was considered to be a prestigious and influential figure.

 Bill also gets rid of any gang member whom he notices is slackening upon Boss's orders. Moreover, Boss, to all his gang members, was considered a master planner, an invisible idol they all respected, even though they hadn't seen him in person.

 Meanwhile, inside the living room, Omar sat quietly watching a TV show. He would have thought of going to the bar or some cool place to chill off his head, but his scalded face often scared people away from him. Although that had never bothered him a bit, for most of the time he often sat by himself in the bar drinking all alone, and other times Bill often kept him company.

 This night, he was expecting a visit from Bill. He had been out of cash for a while now since they weren't assigned any job lately. He sat quietly thinking for a while, and then he turned suddenly, shifting his attention from the television to Jenny, who was busy doing her pedicure. 'Women!' he thought to himself. 'They always have many ways of getting cash. If no job, they improvise, either by hawking the street or doing something smart but corny.' He wondered how such a young beautiful girl in her stead could have gotten herself entangled with such a deadly hood like this one.

 Back home in Iraq, he had never worked in a company with females before now, but he wouldn't deny it—this one was surely tough. She had proven it beyond doubt in their last assignment to kill a Feds agent, and that mission had made him believe she was a born killer.

 During the job, the Feds agent's daughter had wanted to shout out for help to the neighbors, but Jenny had grabbed her and pinned her to a seat. And with a slice from her dagger, she had cut opened her throat. The wife, upon seeing her teenage daughter brutally murdered, with blood gushing out of her throat and spilling all over the room, had run blindly toward the exit door, and she would have made it out. But with one shot from Jenny's auto 45, muzzled with a silencer, she had spilled her brain on the door. All that happened too fast, as he (Omar) was not used to an in-house assassination back home in Iraq. If not for Jenny's swiftness, the mission would have failed. Bill was only quick enough to draw out his pistol thirty seconds too late. Omar marveled at how she had handled the Fed's daughter swiftly and at the same time aimed at his wife from a considerable distance with her left hand and still not missed her target.

 Bill had asked Omar to kill the Feds agent, and he had shot him in the forehead. They set the house on fire and disappeared into the dark night. However, Bill had criticized Jenny badly for being reckless, and he had warned her not to repeat such a reckless act on any mission again. She apologized and assured him that she would be careful next time.

 Omar had watched the whole drama quietly at the time without saying a word. Although he had received an order from Boss through Jerome to kill her should she endanger their lives on a mission, however, he couldn't deny the fact that she had really saved their asses this time around, and that he had acknowledged and given her credit for.

 Meanwhile, back in the living room, he gazed at her for a while as she did her manicure. She stopped abruptly, with a sudden awareness that she was being scrutinized. She raised her head, and their eyes met. They stared at each other for a split second, and she fumed angrily at him.

"Can't you just take your murderous gaze elsewhere?" she asked with fury in her tone.

 He sat still and calm, saying nothing in response to her hate speech. He knew that she disliked him with passion even from the onset. However, he perceived that he repulsed her as well. But come to think of it, he never believed he abhorred her as much as she detested him.

 The doorbell buzzed, and she stood up and walked to the door to see who it was. She checked through the peephole and saw it was Bill. She unbolted the lock and opened the door to let him in. She welcomed him with a kiss; he stopped and regarded her briefly.

"Are you going somewhere tonight?" he asked as he moved away from the door, walking a couple of steps inside.

"I've got to survive!" she replied as she bolted the door from inside. "Besides, I'm damn sick and tired of being locked inside this hole with this scald-faced murderer," she said, in reference to Omar.

"Enough of this nonsense already," Bill growled at her. "If we must work as partners, there is a need for us to respect and understand each other," he pointed out to her. "Besides, Boss says we have to lay low for now. The cops are still out looking for the killer of that Feds agent, and any reckless act from you can bring them up our tail."

 His words softened her quickly, and she came back to the sofa and lay back as if she had suddenly caught a fever.

 Bill heaved a sigh of relief, walked into the room, and exchanged pleasantries with Omar, who had been listening to them all the while without saying a word.

"You asked to see me?" Bill asked while staring at Omar. He observed that Omar looked a bit pale, and he guessed it must be a money issue again.

"Yes!" Omar replied mildly. "I needed some dough, man!" he said.

Bill nodded his head gently. He had guessed right; he knew it must be money, as he also needed it as well, and he had earlier discussed it with Boss.

"Well," he said, "Boss assured me that he would arrange some stuff for us soon. Let's just give him a little time..." he said and paused as his cell phone began to buzz.

He dipped his hand into his pocket and drew out the cell phone. He checked the caller and paused abruptly while staring hard at Omar and Jenny briefly, and then he received the call.

"Hello! Just thinking of reaching out to you now," he said, and he went quiet as Boss yelled at him from the other end.

"Will you shut up and listen now?" Boss yelled. "I got a job for you," he said and paused for a moment. "Are Omar and Jenny with you?" he asked rashly.

"Yes," Bill replied calmly.

"Good! Now I want you to carry out this task, and it must be done tonight," Boss said.

"But I thought we were still undercover," Bill retorted, trying to explain their position at the moment.

"Forget that for now! Besides, everything will be taken care of," Boss assured him.

 Bill was quiet for a moment, though not convinced if they should risk their heads for another job at the moment. He listened quietly as Boss explained and described exactly what he wanted them to do. Boss finished, and the line went dead.

 Bill sat quietly for a moment, looking transfixed and a bit unsure of this mission. He wondered why Boss called them himself and not Jerome as usual. Jerome had been the one who usually arranged things with him, not Boss, and why must it be tonight? He thought to himself.

"What did he want with us this time... Bill?" Jenny asked curiously, interrupting his thought.

He stopped and stared fixedly at her for a moment, then turned to gaze sharply at Omar and asked, "Are all our tools in order?"

"Yes," Omar replied and hesitated for a moment. "Another job, I guess?"

"Yes, and it must be done this night!" Bill replied sharply. "Boss wants it to be carried out with every necessary diligence," he explained.

"But you just said it isn't safe for us right now, that the cops may trace it to us," Jenny retorted sharply while gazing sternly at him.

"Jenny!" he exclaimed. "This is no time to argue. Get ready and let's be on our way," he retorted firmly at her.

 He rose to his feet and walked past her, moving toward the door. Omar, on the other hand, went to the basement, and there he selected three automatic pistols. He also picked a dagger for himself and walked to the front door outside, where he saw Bill already standing by his black Cadillac 1985 model.

"Are we using it?" Omar asked while pointing at Bill's car.

"Yes, I guess, but we won't be using it for the mission," Bill replied coldly. "We would plan the plot on the way," he said.

 Jenny came out a minute later to join them, looking all girlish, dressed in her beautiful silk. Bill stared hard at her with a frown.

"For God's sake, Jenny, we ain't going for a beauty pageant competition," he said, addressing her dress. But on a second thought, he called back at her as she turned to go and change it. "Never mind," he said. "That will do for the plan."

 He slid into the driver's seat of his car while the other two joined him inside, and he accelerated into the night at an alarming but moderate speed.

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