Fatal Strike
“John Esposito spat the words over his shoulder as he negotiated the hairpin turn on the mountain road. He rubbed the sore spot on his knee. He wasn’t usually so bad tempered on a job, but Franz, the target’s asshole boyfriend, had put up an unexpectedly good fight, and John was feeling it, being no spring chicken. Franzie boy had gotten in a vicious kick to the knee during their brief tussle. Of course, Franz was no match for John, who was unmoved by pain while in combat. He felt it, but did no...t give a shit, not while he was working.
Afterward was a different matter. He gave a shit now, after two hours sitting in a car, driving up here from Seattle with that crybaby piece of shit trussed in the back, blubbering through his gag.
It was going to be very tough on Franzie boy if the directions he’d finally coughed up about Keiko’s hidey-hole were incorrect. Stakes were high on this one. Pay was great, if things happened very fast. His client needed conclusion by mid-afternoon. If things didn’t work out, pay dropped to zero.MoreLess
Afterward was a different matter. He gave a shit now, after two hours sitting in a car, driving up here from Seattle with that crybaby piece of shit trussed in the back, blubbering through his gag.
It was going to be very tough on Franzie boy if the directions he’d finally coughed up about Keiko’s hidey-hole were incorrect. Stakes were high on this one. Pay was great, if things happened very fast. His client needed conclusion by mid-afternoon. If things didn’t work out, pay dropped to zero.MoreLess
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