'And you are sure this is what you want?'
'Yes, I am sure.'
Brax sighed softly as he looked at the photos the other man had supplied. The woman in them was in her early fifties. She looked happy. He slid them back into the manilla envelope. The bar was quiet, soft jazz playing. The lunchtime crowd had evaporated back to the office. The booth he sat in was near the fire exit with a good view of the front. The other man fidgeted, nervously looking around. Brax tucked the envelope inside his plain black coat.
'The money?'
'Of course, sorry.' The other man pushed another envelope over the table.
Brax briefly flicked it open, eyeing the sheaf of notes within. He looked up, his eyes cold.
'I don't need to check this, do I?'
'No no, it's all there. Just as we agreed.'
'Then it will be done... As we agreed.'
++++++++++++
Brax dressed methodically, movements sparing and precise. He looked in the mirror brushing a small speck from the shoulder of the dark utilitarian uniform he wore. Reaching out he pulled the compact utility belt from the dresser. Fastened it securely around his waist, positioning the holster just so, above his right hip.
He breathed slowly, maintaining his calm and reached for the gun. Raising it before him he examined the slide, pulling it back and let it snick closed.
He slotted it into the holster and checked his watch. Time to go. He gave the Police Officer in the mirror a hard eyed stare and headed for the door.
++++++++++++
The two doormen at the club stepped aside, one of them catching his eye and giving a barely discernible nod. He proceeded through the hall, dark red velvet drapes hung the walls. He moved efficiently and quietly to the back of the building.
Cheers and shouts spilled from a door to his left. He ignored it and carried on to the rear of the club. There it was. A man in a sombre suit stood at the entrance. His eyes flicked over Brax's uniform, pausing for a second on his gun before he stood just enough to the side for Brax to glide past.
'To the left, near the back.' The man whispered.
Brax slid past without acknowedging him, he was in the zone now.
Inside the room electronic music piped respectfully from hidden speakers. A celebration of some kind was going on. There were several long tables laden with snacks and drinks. To the left just as stated he saw the target. She wore a figure hugging red dress and looked happier, more vibrant than she did in the photos. She was gesturing with a champagne flute to a captive audience around her who were laughing as she finished the telling of a story.
He strode toward her now, authoratively. Several party goers paused and stared.
'Miss Lanson.'
She turned, her face paling when she saw him behind her. Her eyes bulged as she saw the gun which was now in his hand.
He raised it slowly. Pointing it at her chest.
'Joseph sends his regards.'
Someone screamed as he pulled the trigger.
A small white flag emblazoned with the word 'BANG!' popped out of the gun. Brax grinned and swiftly pulled the strap at the side of his police officer's tunic pullng it off in one fell swoop to expose a hard and chiseled body. He pouted and ran a hand down his abs before grabbing at his crotch.
'Are you ready to party?'
