23 april:
I’m back from my trip. And it was pretty intense. Paul and
me flew out early in the morning to our selected city. I was so excited about
the travel alone. I really wish we could have done a bit more sight-seeing.
Sadly I was disappointed with that. After all, we were here on some serious
business. Paul slept away the entire
plane ride. And then we were picked up by a driver in a blue suit and cap. It
was pretty funny, he stood there with a sign saying ‘Price’, which was our
cover name.
We were rushed into a black Mercedes, driven to this parking
lot next to a shopping centre, which was just off the highway, where we met a
middle-aged man in a long, blue coat who handed Paul a suitcase and a set of
keys. The driver then took us to a hotel
where we checked in under our fake names Mr and Mrs Price. So funny, Paul
really isn’t my type. If it would have been Jamie, yes, it would have been so much
more convincing.
It was a pretty fancy hotel. And I really looked forward to
a little Spa time, some nice room service, and yes, a little shopping and exploring
of the city, but no, Paul was already focused on the job, and started to unpack
the suitcase. Inside were a riffle and the instructions. We had to go to the
building across, that was what we got the keys for. We were supposed to go there
after working hours and shoot the target from there. But first, we had to find
him. And how much fun that was. We were sitting in the lobby with a close eye
to the reception, hoping for him to come and check in. After two hours of
lounging around in the lounge, he finally showed his face and now I had to tag
him, followed him into the lift and up his floor, making sure I saw the key and
thus room number. Once I confirmed his identity and room number, I could tell
Paul. Just after 6 pm we made our way inside the building across from the car
park below and took the stairs up to the fifth floor, which was a bitch. The
floor was a pretty much deserted, empty office area. We found the bathroom that
would give us a clear view across to the hotel room of the dude. We found the
room alright, but the dude had drawn the curtains all shut, so we couldn’t see
anything. Damn. So we waited and waited.
Then Paul sent me down to get some food because he started
to get cranky and unfocused. Finally I could explore the area a little bit. And
I hoped that Paul would get a shot in the meantime. I found a cool take- away,
had some coffee there and flirted a little bit with the cute waiter. I was
thinking about Alex, and then, got pretty horny. But hey, I thought I’d better return to the
job. I got the food and made my way back into the office building with the
keys. To my surprise, Paul still sat at the same spot with the riffle and was
waiting for an opening, literally, a curtain or window to open up. Damn. So we
were eating, watching, eating... and then I got impatient. I wasn’t really sure
what plan B was, but suddenly I had a brilliant idea.
From our safe cell
phone I called reception (fake name, of course) and asked to be connected to his
room. Indeed he picked up his hotel phone and I said “oh hello sir, I’m in the
room above you and I think my wedding ring dropped onto your balcony, could you
please go outside and see if you can find it...” and he replied “uhm, yeah sure,
hang on”. And finally, he came to the balcony door, drew the curtains and opened
the door to step out. And as soon as he stood there; BAM Paul got him right
between the eyes. Wicked! I told you, Paul is such a good shooter. The guy
didn’t see it coming and fell backwards like a plank, right there by the door.
Awesome, now there was no way of telling where the shot came
from. And it was dark as well, so nobody noticed. Nobody would find him until morning
and we would be gone. Paul was very pleased. So we cleaned up, switched off and
rushed out of the building like shadows, and then we changed at a restaurant
into our evening wear.
Back at the hotel, we were sitting by the bar, chatting with
the bartender and other guests, telling them about the concert we had just been
to. And all that time there was a dead guy upstairs in room 522 and none of
them had any idea. Around 1 am we ‘retired’ to our room. Being at a job like
this, we’re not allowed to sleep, we’re always on guard, so we lay around on
the bed and watched TV until about 3 am and then around 5 am we collected our
stuff together so that we could leave around 6 am. Having a casual check-out, like
everybody else.
We had coffee at a bistro until around 7 am. The same driver
met us outside and drove us back to the parking lot. There we returned the
suitcase to the client and a red BMW rental was waiting for us. Sweet. The guys
drove off and now we were officially off the clock. Now I could breathe out.
Time for us to drive back home, where big cash was waiting
for us. And Paul as usual, drove fast. We had a cool time in the car; chatting,
joking, playing music on high volume so we wouldn’t fall asleep. After 4 hours
drive on the highway we stopped for a longer break and finally took a nap in
the car. We had a good lunch at the highway restaurant and then we got ready
for the next 7 hours in the car.
We had fun. We played hip hop, sang along to the radio... I
thought of telling Paul about Alex, but then decided not to. I just told him
that I had a really good lay the other day... I had to brag a little about that
for sure. I mean, Paul talks about his women affairs all the time.
So here we were driving, Paul and me. Like two regular people
on the road, sitting at a restaurant, chatting, looking like and living like
everyone else, and getting treated like everybody else. Nobody suspected that
we were anything but. Not even we. The interesting thing is that it seems so
unreal, so far away from our selves. Who are we really, and does it really
matter what we do? It seems so distant, the night before, almost forgotten. I still feel like the same person I’ve always
been. It’s like all that stuff happens to someone outside of me, and I don’t
feel anything yet... no remorse, just nothing. It’s almost like I’m watching
myself on TV.
We never ask who the targets were, but one thing is for
sure, they are all dirty as fuck. Otherwise they wouldn’t get into trouble with
Mister N. and his illicit clients. Anyway, it’s another Friday, I’m gonna ask Alex
to come over now. Booty call, my dear ;-)
(c) I Am Ruthless
