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Hitman Holyman
Chapter 1: New Blood

Chapter 1: New Blood

The sound of popular radio filled the air of the bar, as a pair of eyes glared at a phone screen, scrolling and looking annoyed. The dark purple eye shadow narrowed as her hazel eyes scrunched and peered up coldly, locking with a man at the end of the table. The audacity of him to sit down was unbearable.

“You have staring problem, asshole?” she snipped, carrying a strange Russian accent and a hint of a lisp hiding behind it.

“Just hard to ignore something beautiful.” He smirked, his well trimmed beard and expensive suit lined up intentionally precise.

“Have you tried, perhaps you try harder.” She muttered

“Lovely accent, Russian?”

“No, Gambia. Can you not tell from my tan?” said the ghostly pale girl sarcastically, through the rogue strand of dark blue hair, unkempt and hastily held up with a rose gold hair pin, her deadpan expression returning to the phone.

“Dry sense of humor, but I like that. Dark, cynical, but clever. You here alone or with friends? Boyfriend.” he asked.

“I have a man, he just doesn’t know it yet. These things unfortunately take some time. Patience is not my best quality.” She sighed.

“Give the phone a rest, sweetheart. If he’s ignoring you, he’s an idiot. If he stood you up, he’s an idiot and an asshole. I’m not saying I’m some prize, but I’m better than some prick who can’t appreciate something that rare and interesting.” He continued. She sat the phone down, harshly. Staring at him like she was debating something.

“So just, fuck him, to hell with it, take the hint and whatever I can get instead…like you, I suppose?” she asked aggressively sarcastic.

“Well, you make me seem like a regular catch with that line. But I’m not without my skills. I may not be mister right, but I’m mister right now.” He grinned. She smiled slightly at the line, or rather the pathetic nature of it and the irony behind her considerations.

“You know what? You may be right. You are not the man I am looking for, but you are…better than nothing. Get up.” She ordered. He looked surprised. “What are you waiting for, directions? Up is vertical, it means to stand. I came here to be alone, you have interrupted that and offered an alternative, I no longer wish to be here. What, have you never succeeded in this before? Did you expect the relationship, we stay at the bar and chit-chat.” She said with an awkward bite to her annunciation.

“Most girls wanna talk and get to know each other after the line works, or they just proceed with their fuck off verdict. I’ve never had a fuck off turn to let’s get out of here that fast, and skip right over the conversation part.” he admitted.

“I told you I have a man, he is not here, I cannot seem to find him, this will take... time. You seem to think you have something to offer while I wait, and I agree, so are you full of shit or just very slow at standing?” she asked. He stood up and grinned, adjusting his suit.

He slammed into the brick wall of the back alley, aggressively stopping as she stepped closer and out of street view. Before he could react, she grabbed a handful of hair and kissed him, biting his lip with a grunt as he pushed her back slightly, now unsure if he was as interested as he was before. The look in her eye was hostile, downright hungry, but not in the way he hoped for. Dabbing his bleeding lip and noticing the throb of his skull where it bounced off the building’s exterior, he had a moment of second thoughts.

“Not even going to fight back? Pity. Maybe you were all talk and no reward, and a waste of my time.” She said, turning to leave, crossing her arms with an attitude.

“Wait… I just wasn’t expecting so much aggression. I’ll deal with it. You got a safe word?” he asked.

“Da.” She nodded, stepping back to him and grabbing his belt, pulling him in closer and kissing him again, muffling his grunts as she buried the barrel of a pistol into his chest and fired off 3 shots, the body acting as a sort of muffler. He dropped to his knees, in shock and silence, staring up with cold, lifeless eyes. “But it is not necessary.” She finished, letting him slump and bleed as she tucked the gun into her frilly black dress. She strutted down the alley, playfully wobbling heel-to-toe like walking a thin ledge in her high heels, as she got her phone out to check again. She lit a cigarette and turned to the open night streets, lit brightly with the glow of a big city not far down the road, the afterglow of the outskirts and edges guiding her way. She heard the screams of someone, presumably who just found a body dead in the alley, and she barely even twitched a muscle to turn and look, swiping her phone with her black manicured nails. She nodded discreetly, and a black car with tinted windows stopped, the door opening for her.

She sat down inside with a lazy plop, as if bored and slightly drunk, her dress poofing up a little, and her hair pin shifting.

“Given up so soon?” asked a voice, the same Russian accent, minus the lisp, from a man in a suit, in the seat beside her. Leathery skin, buzzed hair and scruffy beard stubble. She sighed and gathered her thoughts.

“This is not the place, I want to go back to the hotel.” She yawned, taking out a small tube of white powder and daintily tapping out a bump on her plaster white hand, hoovering it with a nonchalant swipe of her nose. She took the pistol out and tossed it into the front passenger seat. “I need a fresh one. The trigger is gritty. There was an annoyance.” She sighed, as another small pistol was handed back to her by the driver. A 9mm Gyurza.

“Some American got a bit too touchy-feely?” the passenger chuckled.

“Unfortunately no. He interrupted my business for something he was unwilling to back up. Wasted my time, ruined my focus. We try casino below the hotel down the street. I was told Blues bar and Casino. After that, I give up for the night.” She scowled.

“Do not be so depressed. We have been here 2 days. It’s Houston. There is a lot of place to be.” said the passenger

“Have you gotten my guns into the city yet, Yuri?” she asked him.

“Apologies, Nadja. We have run into complications and delays.” He nervously admitted.

“So, what is this shit?” she said, waving the pistol around.

“You wanted armor piercing, this is what we have.” He insisted.

“I wanted MY guns, not substitutes. How hard is it to bribe border police? Security? Do they not like money?” she huffed, looking angry and pointing the gun at his side, firing a round and startling the driver as Yuri clutched his ribs and groaned, checking for blood. “Armor piercing like hell, you useless shit.” She said, proving her point.

“This is Texas, Heart of gun America. You want American guns, we can buy them here. It is not a problem.” he assured.

“They will not be the same as what I wanted. I have very custom guns, Apparently in a crate not in America. So you better hope they have something better, or the next shot will be somewhere you don’t have a vest.”

“Understood.” He nodded, rubbing his side and his bruised rib.

A police officer with a baseball cap and glasses squinted at the dead body in the alley, early morning light making the scene more visible as he chewed on a toothpick.

“Looks like a date gone bad.” He nodded.

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“What makes you think that?” asked the heavier set cop, hunkering down to get a look.

“Gun was pressed against the victim, no real sign of struggle such as bruised knuckles or body blows. Wasn’t a robbery, guy has a nice suit, watch, full wallet. Perp didn’t take anything, just shot our victim in the ribs and ran away. Bartender says he was flirting with some young goth chick, and she did not look thrilled about it. Then he looked back and they were both gone. Same guy ends up dead in the alley right after. I’m thinking she bailed, he followed her and got fresh, and she panicked, he grabbed her, and she pulled a 9mm, snapped off a few rounds and hauled ass.”

“Workin girl?” he asked.

“Don’t think so. Bartender said she was minding her own business, nursing a few fruity drinks over about 2 hours, staring at her phone, didn’t approach any guys, or act very social. He said she had a weird accent, wasn’t sure what kind. Probably just a foreign girl traveling to the US, maybe meeting a guy, green card situation, student abroad just having a bad time and got lost, but she was armed and ready. Doesn’t look like much of a fight happened. Maybe the guy creeped her out, so she had the gun ready when he grabbed her. I got guys running the bullets right now. My guess is she didn’t get the gun legally, so there may not be any tracing it. Trunk and cash special?” heavy cop asked.

“The gun better be legal. Even if this was self-defense.” The thin cop said, as another man approached with a tablet and a confident mustached smirk.

“We got security video. No sound, but the picture is descent. That’s our little miss 9mm slipping the doorman money to get in. The doorman said she looked annoyed when he asked for her ID, and she just said in that accent: Do I look like a child? And tried to scoot past him. He blocked her, and she squeezed past, flicked some money at him as she went in.” Mustache said.

“Hell of a good door man, lets a skinny girl shove past because she slipped him a 20?”

“A 20, my ass. Get this…4 hundred dollar bills, crisp and new. She’s no student or hooker." Mustache replied.

“WhO0ooo, damn. Whatever she does for a living pays well. I lose 400 at the casino and I feel sick as a dog. This girl just has that in her pocket next to a 9mm and doesn’t even bat an eye? There went your green card scam theory. You think some foreign girl with no ID looking for a sugar daddy drops 4 bills to get into a bar, has 2 drinks and plays on her phone for 2 hours?” asked the heavier cop. "She up for some illegal shit."

“Well fuck, I got nothing then.” Thin cop sighed. “She had to have been meeting someone important who stood her up. Lotta placed don’t even card, she easily looks 21, no ID, determined to get into THIS place, and just waits, gives up after a few hours. Romeo here probably just picked the wrong girl to mess with, got handsy, didn’t take no for an answer, and she said NO louder, with a handgun, about 3 times, point-blank. We’re never gonna find this girl. With no ID, in the town this big, even with blue hair, tits like that, she could disappear. Any chance the AI facial recognition gets a hit?”

“Yea right. You gotta be in a database for it to know what to look for. Illegal immigrants don’t exactly show up at the DMV for photos.” The heavier one chuckled.

“Well, bite my ass, we got a hit…and it just got really interesting.”

“Good interesting or bad interesting?”

“Really bad interesting, like we are strongly fucked on this case, kinda interesting.” thin cop cap said, handing over the tablet.”

“You gotta be shittin me.” He replied.

“Are you shitting with me?” the blue-haired 9mm princess asked aggressively, leaning on a table covered in guns. The noise gun show crowd moving behind her.

“Honey, That’s not how this works. You gotta have ID, we run you through the system, you gotta have citizenship, not just cash to buy a gun here.” Said the old bearded vendor as people walked loudly around her and fanned out around the booth. She took a deep breath through her nose and took out a significant number of hundreds, laying it on the table.

“Is that enough?” she asked.

“To go to prison for? Shit no. Honey, we’re an FFL dealer. This is a legitimate business, Crosley Custom Guns doesn’t sell IDs, so you can keep flashing those bills, and it might get you mugged in the parking lot, but it won’t get you one of my guns. Any store or vendor in town will tell you the same thing. Please don’t lean on the table.” He added. She grabbed one of the business cards and squinted at him.

“And you are Crosley?” she asked.

“Nope. I’m Daryl, just like the name tag says. I just work for the store. Now you come back with a driver's license and social security card, and I’ll be tickled pink and shitless to take your money, honey. Otherwise, with just cash, I can sell you clips, grips, holsters, and T-shirts.” he smiled shittily.

She stood in the parking lot with her phone out and an annoyed simmer.

“Yes, Da-ryl. Of Crosley Custom Guns.” She said trying to pronounce it correctly and missing it by a hair. A rather large man in sunglasses and all black strutted up to her and blocked her sunlight like he had an eclipse appointment. She squinted up at his gum-chewing grin. “Just get information, send it to me. Hello? Large stranger. Do you have a problem?” she asked.

“Looks like you got one, luckily I may have a solution. See that blue truck up there by the pole. That’s my truck.”

“Congratulations on owning a vehicle, I will not be getting into it.” she sighed.

“Well, you might like what’s left in there if you still got that wad of cash.” He said discreetly.

“I doubt you have the guns I want, blue truck man.” She scoffed.

“Not at the moment. I don’t leave guns in my truck, tempts people to break my window and steal them. I just bought myself a nice little piece in there, I could go back in and buy some more if I had more money, and then go for a walk and leave them in my truck. Now for the inconvenience fee and the cost of the window it’s not gonna be cheap, but you don’t look cheap, and you really wanted that gun. Pretty girl all alone definitely needs a gun. There are some real creeps out there. I’m over here talking about committing a crime, and I’m one of the nicer ones.” He joked. She stepped very close and lifted her baggy sweatshirt to show the 9mm pistol tucked in her jeans.

“I have one already. And if you steal my money and run, I will kill you and get it back, and then I will have your gun too. Would you still like to go back in and do some shopping?”

“You’re not fuckin around, are ya? I think that’s badass. Whatever you want, just double the price, add 200 for a window, and you got it.” he nodded, looking around for other listeners.

If you are police, this is a very big mistake for you. If not, then I will make you a list and I will be very clear with you. I want this list EXACT and no substitutes or close enoughs. If you cannot get something, look harder, or do not get it, and leave that money in the truck under the guns. Can you follow instructions well? Can you do math accurately? Because I can, and just because I have plenty of cash to spare, does not mean I wish to spare it without knowing it. This can be a very good day for you or a very bad one, depending on how well you follow this agreement. Understand?” she asked.

“Oh, absolutely.” he chuckled.

“Very good. I may hire you again if this goes well. My current bodyguard detail is lacking in a few positions. Someone may be getting terminated and replaced very soon.”

“Lady I’ll buy you guns, and I’d buy you a drink, but I don’t wanna know your name or see you again after this. I’ll text you when the truck is full and locked, and I’ll go get a bite to eat for about 30 minutes. The illegal part is all yours." he finished.

A black car with tinted windows rolled to a stop as the driver smiled and popped the drunk. The thump of plastic cases echoed through the vehicle before she closed it. Nadja got in and sat down, giving Yuri with the sore ribs a death glare.

“Get out, you’re fucking fired.” She demanded.

“I don’t understand, is someone going to pick me up?” he asked.

“That’s your problem. Get a cab. If I have to do everything myself, I don’t need you. What do you get paid to do?” she asked.

“Whatever you ask me to do.” He replied.

“Well, you failed twice now, so the third time you fail, I’ll kill you.” She said coldly. “So, are you capable of doing 1 thing I say correctly?”

“Anything you want. I will do it.” Yuri nodded.

“Good. Get out of the car, that is your last order, and then you are no longer working for me. Go find a way back home. If you cannot do that, it is the third time you have failed.” She said, giving him a silent count down, tapping her nails on her pistol in a distinctly 2 click and pause pattern, as he briskly unhooked his seatbelt and exited the car. The driver chuckled slightly.

“Nadja relax, he is inexperienced with your ways and stupid. He does not mean disrespect, he is simply…new to the job. You tend to require an adjustment period, he is just slower than some of your favorites back home. But he travels, and he tries.”

“Well, add him to the list with Daryl from Crosley and take care of it.”

“Nadja…did you not get what you wanted?” he sighed.

“Da.” She shrugged, rolling her eyes and trying not to smile, thinking about her new toys.

“Then it is okay. I will have someone pick up Yuri and bring him back. Let him worry a bit and learn his lesson. You already shot him.”

“I do not trust him. He cannot listen.” She said, opening the case next to her and biting her lip with a smile. “But my mood is getting better now.” She said, picking up her phone. “Yuri, stay where you are. You can come back. You have one last failure before I fire you, and then if you fuck up or speak to the cops, THEN I will kill you.” She said, hanging up and waiting patiently, scrolling on her phone while he made his way back. The door opened, and a nervous Yuri sat down and closed it.

“I am sorry.” He nodded.

“Do not apologize, just do better. You see these boxes?” she asked, holding up a few boxes of 5.7mm ammo. One red and black shiny labeled, and the other one a plain white box ominously sealed with a sticker reading “for governmental entities or exportation only”.

“Yes.” He nodded.

“Load this gun I purchased with these. All 7 clips. I want every other bullet in every clip alternated between these two boxes, with this one as the last round showing. If you do it wrong, do it again. You will be doing this for a while. I grade on correctness, not speed, so take the time to do it right, and I will not ask you to fix it. Mistakes will be fixed as you go, and before you are finished and presenting your work. This is pass or fail, you should start now.” She said, as he sighed with relief, slowly and carefully laying out the boxes.