Alpha's Assassin

“You’re a liability!” Murphey screamed at me from across his desk, slamming his fist against the mahogany. He ran a hand through his thinning hair. Murphey was in his fifties, but the stress of the job had made him age significantly. At first glance, he could be someone in their seventies.

         I just stared at him.

         “Look…” He paused. “Harlow, you’re the best. There’s no denying that. But the last couple of months, you’ve had loose ends. And loose ends are what can bring the Faction down. I understand that Trent was taken out and that you’re having a hard time, but we can’t have this.

         I flinched at my partner’s name. My former partner. I was known to work alone, but Murphey put us together for a delicate hit. One that had too many working parts for just one person. And Trent was the only other person able to succeed at this assignment. After that first assignment, I didn’t mind working with Trent. He didn’t ask personal questions. He didn’t chit-chat. He was the perfect partner.

There were some rumors that we were more than just partners. We never were. There were random occasions when we fucked, but it never went past that. Just carnal pleasure. Because when in the business we were in, you didn’t have ties, you didn’t have relationships, and you didn’t have kids. They could be used as ransom, and the Faction wouldn’t pay, no matter what.

         “But you have to get your shit together.” Murphey wasn’t one to swear. In my ten years with the Faction, I’ve only heard Murphey curse a handful of times. When he did, he was stressed.

         His light blue eyes met mine, and I just stared at him. What else was I supposed to do? He wasn’t wrong. But I was the best, I completed assignments and that’s what was asked of me.

         “You know this is bullshit, right?” I finally said.

         “What do you want me to do, Harlow? Your last mission had a fucking witness. A witness.” He repeated himself to get the point across. “You’re almost as bad as Charlie.”

         I winced at the insult. Charlie was in the Faction, but he was a joke. He fucked up so many times that they finally and permanently demoted him to desk jockey. He couldn’t be discharged; he knew too much. We couldn’t kill him because no one wanted to leave his lovely wife and two kids without a dad. I volunteered to do the job, but Murphey told me to stand down. The Faction was growing soft.

         “So, what…you’re going to discharge me? Kill me?” I spat at him.

         Murphey leaned back in his chair and took a deep breath. “No, all I’m saying is to take some time off. We don’t want to lose you, but if you continue at this rate, we will have no other choice.”

         I glared at him. I haven’t taken time off…ever. I was too good to take time off. When I first started, killing was hard. But now…now I enjoyed it. I enjoyed completing assignments and being the envy of the Faction. As if I were an honor roll student in high school. “What do you want me to do? Bake fucking cookies? This is all I know, Murphey, and you know as well as I that I’m very good at what I do.”

         “I don’t care what you do!” Murphey shouted. “But until you take that time, you are not going to get another assignment. You are not going to come into the warehouse. And you are not going to communicate with the other agents about their assignments. You’re on the blocked list until further notice.”

         I ground my teeth at his words. Not sure what to do, not sure what to say. I felt like that honor roll student just got her first ‘F’ and was having a minor breakdown.

         Murphey took another deep breath. “Take the safehouse in Jackson.” He squeezed the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger.

         I thought about Jackson. It was a small town with nothing. We would put agents there when their lives were in danger or if there was a hit on them. “Is there a hit out on me?”

         “Not yet,” he said, his face serious. “With that witness, there could be.” He closed the file on his desk. “Go to Jackson, relax, and then we can reassess.”

“What am I supposed to do in Jackson?” My hands were turning white, gripping my thighs, anger bubbling to the surface.

         “I don’t care.” His voice raised slightly; he was struggling to control his cool. “Hike, go swimming, get chickens, I don’t care but you will not be associated with any assignments for a least thirty days.”

         I took the glass paperweight that was on his desk and chucked it at the wall. “Fuck!” I screamed.

         “Get out of my office.” Murphey calmly said.

         I got up, picked up my chair, and chucked it through his office window. The other agents who were sitting out in the main area of the warehouse no longer pretended to pay attention to me. They were all staring. “What?!” I yelled at them. They turned their attention back to what was on their desks.

         Connor whispered across his desk to his desk mate, Mac. “That’s why the Faction shouldn’t have women…too emotional.”

         “What did you just say?” I hissed at him.

Connor turned to me slowly. “I said, The Faction shouldn’t have women, you’re too emotional.”

“Fucker!” I leapt across the desk in front of me and put Connor in a headlock. He beat against my arms to release him. But I wasn’t going to, I wanted to cut off all oxygen and waste this worthless piece of shit. “You think you’re better than me? Maybe if you had half as many kills as I have, you might reach my level.” I tightened my grip. His skin was turning red, then had a tinge of blue.

“Let him go,” Charlie yelled.

Mac darted around the desk and grabbed me, trying to pull my arms away. “Come on, Harlow. Drop him.”

“Not until he’s dead,” I hissed back.

“He’s not worth it.” He tightened his grip around my body, slowly constricting me.

I tightened my grip, but then released. Connor took a big breath in. “You fucking psycho,” he said in between gasps.

Mac released me.

“You’re useless.” I kicked his leg hard.

He took a sharp breath in as he rubbed his leg.

“Watch your back, Connor. You never know when I’ll be around to take you out. And Mac won’t be here to stop me.”

“Why are you still here? Didn’t Murphey kick you out?”

“Fucker!” I lunged at him again. Before I could get too far, Mac pulled me into a bear hug, lifting me from the floor. He was a giant, stood at six ten and weighed an easy two hundred and seventy-five pounds. He was a wall. I struggled against Mac’s hold. I brought my elbows down against his arms, trying to break the hold, but he wouldn’t budge.

“When you stop struggling, I’ll let you go.”

I continued to struggle. I pulled my arms up and slammed them down on his elbows. Mac’s grip loosened a little, but he didn’t drop me. “Let me go!” I yelled at Mac.

“Stop struggling.”

I pulled my arms up again, trying to break his hold, but nothing I did got me free. “Fine!” I went still in Mac’s arms.

“Now I’m going to set you down, don’t go after Connor.”

“Fine.”

Mac set me down and released his hold, cautiously. When I didn’t go after Connor, he took a step back.

“What’s going on out here?” Murphey asked as he exited his office.

“Nothing,” I said. I was already on Murphey’s shit list. I didn’t need him extending my leave.

Murphey looked at each of the Faction members, waiting for someone to say something different. “Okay, then. Harlow, don’t you have somewhere to be?”

I cringed at his words. I wasn’t welcome in the warehouse anymore. It was now left to the men to take care of business. In a matter of a couple weeks, I could see the Faction burning to the ground because of some stupid shit that Connor or Charlie got into. Murphey would be calling me back before the end of the thirty days. I just knew it.

I walked away from the group and grabbed my jacket, which was hanging on the back of my chair. I wasn’t going to give anyone the satisfaction of escorting me out. I knew, if I didn’t leave quietly, Murphey would get Mac or one of the others to walk me out. If he got Connor, I would push him off a set of stairs, feigning an accident. A smile graced my lips with the thought of Connor bleeding at the bottom of the stairs, eyes dead, and blood slowly oozing out.

Maybe Murphey was right, maybe I did have an anger problem. I shook my head. I had a lot of problems, but anger wasn’t one of them. Connor deserved everything he got. I only regretted that I didn’t hold him in a headlock for longer.

“See you around, Harlow,” Connor yelled as I started to descend the stairs.

I gripped the railing for dear life. I couldn’t do anything, now that Murphey was there. He would discharge me from the Faction permanently. And then what would I do with my life? I was good at killing; that’s the only skill I have possessed in my adult life. I couldn’t live a normal life; I was too far gone.

“Ouch,” Connor yelled; Mac smacked him on the back of his head. Connor wouldn’t go against Mac. The difference in size alone deterred him, but Mac was also a silent killer. You would expect him to be loud and attention-seeking, but no. Mac liked to live a quiet life when he wasn’t completing assignments.

I smiled at Mac. He knew I appreciated that.

I hopped into my black SUV. I didn’t know where I was going to go. This was the first time I wasn’t on the job. The random days in between assignments were filled with training and updates on jobs. I always had a destination in mind when I was driving somewhere. But now, for the next thirty days, I was jobless, assignment-less, and taskless.

I started up the SUV and made my way back to my apartment. It was a stark environment. I spent very little time here. It was more so a place for my mail to be delivered than a place for me to live. No pictures were hanging on the wall, no personal effects on the shelves. I furnished the place with a basic sofa, dining room table, and a bed. I had a television, but I had only used it a handful of times.

I sat down on the sofa and stared at the blank screen. I couldn’t just sit in my apartment for the next thirty days watching television. It would drive me insane. I was already feeling cabin fever, and I only just returned.

Maybe Murphey was right. Maybe I should just go to Jackson and enjoy nature or something. Maybe a change of scenery would do me well. I let out a long breath. “Maybe Murphey was right about my attention to detail slipping,” I said aloud to myself.

I let out another sigh and stood. “I guess I’m going to Jackson.” I went to my bedroom and grabbed a leather duffle bag that I use for trips and threw clothes into it. Like my apartment, my clothing choices were meager.  I wasn’t a clothes horse like my sister. She would spend hundreds of thousands of dollars buying name-brand clothing. I thought that was ostentatious and completely unnecessary. My wardrobe was monochromatic, black, white, and gray. Easy to blend into a crowd when needed.

I slung my duffle bag over my shoulder and did one final scope of the room, and stopped. “I can’t believe I almost left without the most important thing.” I crawled under the bed and pulled out a backpack. I went to the closet; I pressed against the back wall and slid the false wall away. Hanging on the wall was an assortment of weapons.

I grabbed the weapon bag that flipped open, showing four knives and four hatchets. I tucked that into the duffle bag.  I grabbed a twenty-two pistol and a forty-five with a suppressor. I grabbed my sniper rifle and all the bullets I had in stock. “Now I’m ready for this trip.”

This may seem to be overkill, but as an assassin, you never knew when you would need a weapon. Where most people packed extra underwear and socks, I packed extra guns and bullets. I stopped at the safe that sat hidden behind the door of my nightstand. I grabbed my passport and two stacks of cash. I wouldn’t need that much money in a tiny town but again you never know.

I carefully loaded up the SUV, and I slid the rifle under the back seat. I hid the twenty-two in my center console and left the forty-five in the duffle bag. I punched in the address to the safe house. It was just under a fourteen-hour drive from Seattle. I should arrive after two in the morning.

I normally would drive in silence, but with this length of trip I needed something to drown out my thoughts. I would just dwell on what Murphey said and the last two months. I saw an advertisement once for a true crime podcast. That seemed to be up my alley. I already saved it in my phone and just never had a chance to listen to it. There were over three hundred episodes. That would keep me company for the duration of the trip.

This was going to be a long trip, but at least I had this random podcast to keep me company. I would do my best to not think about Trent or my current sabbatical. Hopefully time away will give me that break that I needed so I could move past Trent’s death and get back into work.