Gideon; a lanky and moustached man, unlock the door, kicked it, ambled in and without looking back slammed it hard to a close with a back kick. The entire perimeter of the abandoned ranch reverberated with the sound from the banged door.
The dark room was illuminated as soon as he pushed the window to open, revealing the greasy walls, the rickety cushion, three rifles and a chop sword hung on the wall, and on the center table are three Ammos, a carton filled with throwing spikes, three kama blades, a climbing gear and a carving knife.
It drizzled outside, and so he pulled out of the dripping black leather coat and a pair of woolen hand gloves he wore, flung them to one corner of the room. The velvety hat he had placed on the center table, and then he tugged out a pistol from his pocket and dropped it on the table. He made sure he was not followed to the ranch.
The ranch had been his hideout ever since he joined the league of the assassins. It was secluded, buried in the heart of a big forest at the outskirt of the city. It was a perfect place he would come to execute his plans.
Gideon sneezed repeatedly as soon as he slumped into the cushion. He knew that the dusty cushion must have triggered the reflex as he could see suspended dusts in the strand of light that slipped through the leaky ceiling. There was a bottle of Vodka in a box nailed to the wall, which he drank often in celebration of every successful missions.
Gideon’s eyes flashed at the bottle many times, but he seemed not to recognize it again. He looked so troubled that he could not bring himself to drink a cup of the wine. With a raised head, eyes fixed to the ceiling, back leaned against the squashy cushion, hands clamped to his head, and flapping legs, he was plunged in deep thought.
A phone chimed and he jerked up and picked it up. It was unknown caller. “Yes? It’s Gideon,” he said.
“Razagul!” a thin voice spoke at the other end of the phone call.
“Razagul, my lady!” he responded, an edge of indifference in his voice. It was only Shanian; the league's boss lady, the one that assigned tasks to the assassins, that would greet in that manner. Gideon knew exactly why she was calling.
“I’m sure you know why I’m calling?...” Shanian said and took a little pause, as though she sorted her words. “So, don’t disappoint me…you have 48hrs to complete the task.”
“But you know that…” Before he could finish the sentence Shanian had hung up him. He was going to object. He put down the phone on the table and slowly slipped his hand into his pocket and brought out a photo. Shanina had asked him to assassinate the girl in the photo. Gideon wondered why she would assign him another task when he had barely completed his last task some few hours ago.
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There were others like him who could have done the Job even better. It struck him that he didn’t even have to bother about who and who not was fit to do the job. It broke his heart that it was Nicky’s picture; Gideon’s fiancé.
Nicky was the only girl who had won his heart; she was the only girl Gideon knew that loved him genuinely. Gideon knew that Nicky was leading a simple life and there was no way her path could have crossed with that of Shanian. He also knew that Shanian had never killed anybody who didn’t step on her toes. But how could a secondary school teacher like Nicky have possibly stepped on the toes of a wild and dirty woman like Shanian? Could it be that someone else made the deal? Gideon needed to find out.
Maybe there are other sides of Nicky’s life that Gideon doesn’t know yet.
***To be continued... ***
