Chapter 3 - Harlow

I pulled up to the looming structure that was built on the side of a mountain. The podcast hosts were laughing at some sort of joke that they made about a serial killer representing himself in court. Dumbass, I thought to myself.

         If I didn’t know where this safehouse was, I would have been searching for hours. But I’ve been here before and knew what to look for. The safehouse was a joke. It was more like a safe mansion. The structure was reminiscent of Frank Lloyd Wright’s work. Very angular, as if boxes were stacked on top of each other. Even in the dark, I could see it looming like a dark figure hiding in the shadows.

         One thing I liked about this house was it was built as a fortress but looked as if some multimillion-dollar asshat had money to spend and didn’t skimp on the upgrades. All of the windows were bulletproof, and the doors were all metal in each room in case someone needed to hide. Not only was it in the middle of nowhere but it had the intention of being easy to escape if you knew where to go. But to enter you would need a tank.

Then there were the upgrades; this entire house had multiple alarms, cameras, and motion detectors. On the inside, you would know if someone was coming within a half mile of the perimeter. Traps were set around the lot to ensure that those inside knew who was coming and where they were coming from. This was by far the most pimped out safehouse we had.

I tossed my gun from the center console into my duffle bag and grabbed the rifle. I went up to the door. I leaned my head against the scanner as it scanned my eyes.

“Hello, Harlow.” A robotic female voice sounded. “Please place your finger on the scanner.”

I placed my pointer finger against the scanner.

“Welcome.”

The front door unlocked, and I turned the knob to go in. The lights on the first floor turned on. As you moved around the house, the lights would automatically turn on. It was voice-activated if you wanted to turn them off. I would half expect that I could say shoot, and the house would load up some guns and shoot at something.

It was just as I remembered it. Very minimalistic, all the furniture was in grays and tans. No pictures or portraits hung on the walls. Just stark walls that stared back at me. The only thing that was hung was a huge eighty-five-inch television in the living room above the giant fireplace. Even though it was spring, the weather in Jackson was chilly and I would probably need to use that fireplace.

I walked through the rooms; the kitchen was built like a chef’s kitchen. Anyone who cooked regularly would die happy here. To me, it was just a refrigerator waiting to hold the takeout and frozen meals that I would order with a microwave to heat them. I wasn’t much of a cook. I never had time for that. When I was on the road so much, it limited my ability to learn to cook.

Any man that was going to marry me was fucked, I wasn’t domestic at all. I chuckled to myself. Marriage was the last thing on my mind. I was in my thirties and had no prospects; work was my life. Until that was taken from me, I wasn’t worried about finding someone.

My sister always pushed the subject. Always asked why I didn’t have a man and why I wore such boring clothes. She was happy with her banker husband and two well-behaved boys. She was the epitome of the all-American housewife. She baked gluten free bullshit for her kids’ schools. And she volunteered at the local shelter. She always wondered why I couldn’t be more like her.

Little did she know that I was not actually an accountant. I was an assassin for hire. I would probably shoot myself if I were an accountant. I needed the adrenaline of going out and potentially dying each and every day. I couldn’t live in a house with a white picket fence. It just wasn’t my style.

I walked to the master bedroom that was down the hall and to the right of the kitchen. It remained unchanged. The California king bed was already made; no doubt, Murphey arranged the cleaners to come and get things set up for me. He knew I would be coming here even though it didn’t seem like it in our meeting. I swore the fucker had a tracker in me. I wouldn’t put it past him.

After I splashed water on my face, brushed my teeth, and changed into my pajamas I laid in bed. I didn’t realize how exhausted I was. With nothing to do tomorrow, I was going to sleep in.

********

         The sun shone into the room; it was well past early morning. I looked at my phone eleven fifteen. That was the longest I have ever slept in. I have always been notorious for waking up early, working out, or getting ready for an assignment. When my days weren’t already planned, I could sleep in.

         I padded down to the kitchen and started looking through the cabinets. I needed coffee if I was going to be halfway tolerable today. Usually, there was a stockpile of food and drinks here that were rotated out monthly. It was to be prepared in the event of an emergency.

         I finally found the treasure that I had been hunting for. Murphey upgraded the coffee maker to one of those pod things. And there was a carousel of different flavored pods. I swung through them and picked one. I popped it in, filled the jug with water, and watched as my cup filled with the liquid. There were very few things that I enjoyed in life, and coffee was one of the top things.

         I sipped at the black gold and sat at the giant island. I looked around the house. At night, it looked almost ominous. But now, with the sunlight streaming in, it looked almost cheery. Like my sister and her family would live here. Of course, without the armory and retinal entrance.

         There was nothing to do here. I wasn’t about to clean. That was what we hired cleaners for. I wasn’t going to garden, there was no point. I was only going to be here for a few weeks, and not to mention that I would probably doom those plants to death anyway. I could watch TV. But my attention span wouldn’t let me sit there for the next thirty days.

         My phone buzzed and pulled me from my thoughts. I looked down, and it said ‘M1.’ I never put anyone’s full name who came from the Faction. I just assigned them letters and numbers. I knew this one was Murphey.

         I pushed the button to start the call, but didn’t say anything.

         “What? No hello?” Murphey’s gruff voice was on the other side of the line.

         I sighed. “Hello, Murphey. What do you want?”

         “I was just calling to check in on you and how you are enjoying the house.”

         “It’s fine.”

         Murphey paused. I could almost see him pinching the bridge of his nose. “With all the upgrades I did, it only gets a fine.”

         “What can I say? I’m simplistic. I’m surprised I haven’t blown the house up, with how many upgrades you put in here. There’s even fucking buttons on the toilet.”

         “That’s a fancy toilet with heating, cooling, and a bidet.”

         “You would need to be a rocket scientist to be able to flush the damn toilet.”

         Murphey chuckled. “Stop looking around like a lost puppy and relax. You have time to recuperate, so use it.”

         I looked up at the camera that was in the kitchen and flipped it off.

         “Very ladylike.”

         “You didn’t hire me to be a lady.”

         He sighed. “That’s true. I forgot to tell you. Joe is residing in Jackson. You could go visit him. You liked him…right?”

         I thought back to the last Joe that was in the Faction. He was a gruff man, but a heart of gold. I was surprised that he was even in the Faction. You had to be a certain type of person to kill, and I just couldn’t see Joe as being one of those people.

         “I liked him well enough. But I thought he died.”   

         “No, he didn’t die. He opted out.”

         “Opted out?”

         “Yeah, he requested to retire.”

         I sat there for a few moments. I turned his words over and over in my head. “No one retires from the Faction.”

         “Not true. There have been a few that have retired.”

         “Without being a target?”

         Murphey laughed. “The Faction isn’t hell bent on killing all of their members who leave.”

         “Could have fooled me.”

         “Those who choose to leave can leave. But there is an understanding that if they want to retire, they may be called back at any time if the Faction needs them.”

         “It’s not one hundred percent retired, then.”

         “You could say that,” he sighed again. “Joe may be able to help you work through whatever you need to work through to get back to work. Consider it a requirement…a therapy session.”

         I ground my teeth. I didn’t need therapy. I needed to not get my partner killed. That’s what I needed to do.

         “I know you’re pissed, Harlow. But until you get back to your old self, I can’t have you come back. Then that retirement plan that Joe is on doesn’t apply to you.”

         Murphey wasn’t one to hand out threats. But that one hung in the air. I knew he meant that if I couldn’t get to my old self, then I would be taken out. He didn’t need a disgruntled past employee running to the authorities or the press.

         “I’ll go,” I said through clenched teeth.

         “Good.” I could hear Murphey as he shuffled through some papers on his desk. “He owns a gym now in the town, it’s called ‘Joe’s Gym.’” He paused, waiting for me to respond. When I didn’t, he continued, “If you need anything, give me a call.”

         I remained silent; I just clicked the red button to hang up. “Fucker!” I yelled at the camera and flipped it off again. I don’t need him watching my every move. I stalked to the server room. It was a small room, but it had twenty monitors mounted on the wall, watching the house, the yard, and me.

         Each monitor would flip through to the different cameras, it showed different angles. As soon as there was movement it would flip to the next. I could see a deer as it ate something off the ground in the forest that surrounded the house.

         I sat down at the controls and looked at each of the labels. I flipped the switch of camera one. The front door camera turned off. I flipped it back on. I moved to the next camera; I tested out each of them before all of the cameras inside the house were turned off. I left the cameras that surrounded the house on. I may need them if anyone approaches. At least now I had some privacy.

         My phone buzzed. It was a text from M1. “Paranoid?”

         “Fucker.” I replied to the text.

         I looked around the house again. The bright cheerfulness was still there, and I was so out of place. There wasn’t anything else to do but what Murphey said. I should get ready and go to town. I needed to get supplies and stop by to say hi to Joe.

         I took fifteen minutes to learn how to turn on the shower, along with the other upgrades, this one was ridiculous. It had a rain shower head, but then had twenty other shower heads around the shower walls. This had to be one of those steam showers. I’ve heard about those, but never actually used one. While I was here, I might as well live it up.

         I dried my black, shoulder-length hair with the towel and ran a comb through it. I pulled on a pair of black jeans and a white T-shirt. I tucked my handgun in the back of my jeans for safekeeping. I never went anywhere without some sort of weapon.

         I hopped into my SUV and brought it to life. I didn’t bother trying to GPS it to Joe’s Gym. The town was small. There was one main road through the center, that’s where everything was. I would drive down it and look for a store and the gym.

         About one minute into town, I spotted the gym. It was nestled next to a liquor store. Convenient. I smiled at my joke. The gym didn’t look busy, only a couple of cars parked out front. One was a beaten-down truck that had to be Joe’s. I parked next to it.

         I slid out and walked inside. The gym was small but had everything that anyone wanting to get fit would need.  To the right, the office lay at the far corner. From the office and all the way to the entrance were rows of ellipticals and treadmills facing out the window. There was an assortment of machines in the center, barbells and dumbbells graced the opposite wall of the office. In the far back was a row of boxing bags and speed bags.

         Only one person was in the gym, sitting on a bench with multiple pairs of weights around him. He was looking at his phone. His physique told me that he didn’t lift much, but wanted to have the picture to show that he was here.

         I walked to the office and knocked on the open door. Joe was sitting at the desk, looking at the computer. He glanced up and smiled. “Well holy shit. I never thought I would see the likes of you again.” He stood and walked over to me and hugged me. I’m normally not a hugger, but Joe was the one person I let hug. Other than my sister.

         “Thought I’d die?”

         “No,” he laughed. “I thought that you would be so busy with assignments that you wouldn’t have time to visit little ol’ me.” The crows’ feet around his eyes deepened with his smile. He looked good, he looked happy. A huge difference from the last time I saw him.

         “I’m on a forced vacation.”

         His brows furrowed. “Oh really. Sit, let’s catch up.”

         I sat in the chair across from him. “There’s nothing really to catch up on.” I clamped my hands on my thighs to keep them occupied.

         “Usually, people aren’t forced to go on vacation.” His eyes bore into me, almost as if he stared at me long enough, he could see what I wasn’t saying. “You’re the best. If Murphey is putting you on vacay time, something is going on.”

         I stared back at him, I forced myself not to look away. He knew this tactic as much as I did. Sitting in silence would eventually make a weaker person break. People didn’t like silence. Especially when someone was staring at you.

         He raised his eyebrows.

         I rolled my eyes. “Fine.” I sighed and he smiled. He won this one. “I had a partner that got killed.” I summed it up in one sentence.

         “Go on.” He steepled his fingers over the desk.

         “Fuck Joe, why did you leave?” I laughed and rubbed the back of my neck.

         “I had other priorities. Why?”

         “You’re making me say shit I don’t want to.”

         “I know you and you wouldn’t say anything you didn’t want to.”

         He was right. Maybe this is what I needed. Fuck Murphey and his wisdom. I took a deep breath. “Do you remember Trent?”

         “The pretty boy?”

         I nodded. Trent was known as the pretty boy of the Faction. But even though he was good-looking, he wasn’t arrogant. He was like Joe, chill.

         “Ok.”

         “Well, on one of the assignments, it required a partner. You know that I don’t normally work with a partner. I like working alone. I could do a job better without baggage.” I paused.

         Joe nodded.

         “After that first assignment, we paired up a lot. And you know how it goes, close proximity.”

         He shrugged. “You became fuck buddies.”

         “Yeah.” I let out a breath. “But there weren’t emotions, at least not on my side. I thought he was on the same page, but I guess he wasn’t.”

         “He got the feels?” Joe said the word ‘feels’, and it was so out of place.

         “You could say that.” I drummed my fingers against my thigh. “On his last assignment, we were ambushed. Instead of listening to him, I pushed forward. This was a big one that needed to be completed. My stupid ass didn’t think about it. But as soon as a gun went off, Trent jumped in front of it for me. He sacrificed himself for me.” I bit my lip. “His last words were, ‘I love you.’”

         “Damn,” Joe said and leaned back in his chair. “The sucks.”

         “I don’t know what’s worse, me getting him killed or me not having those same feelings. I keep seeing his face as he died.” I paused. I could still see his lifeless body on the floor. I only had a moment to close his eyes before I needed to get out of there. “I left him.” I looked at Joe and expected to see pity. But he only looked contemplative.

         “You had to, it’s what I would have done.”

         The vice that had been squeezing my heart released a little at his words. “I just realized, I don’t feel guilty about getting him killed or not loving him.”

         “You feel guilty about leaving him behind.”

         I nodded.

         “It’s part of the job, Harlow. Everyone in the Faction knows that it’s a possibility that they will go missing in action. If you don’t report back, you’re considered dead, and no one mourns. That’s the hard part.”

         The vice on my heart loosened a little more. He was right; everyone knew what they were getting into. There was a huge potential that any of us could get killed. That’s why we were paid the big bucks. That’s why every Faction member was sought after; you couldn’t apply. I studied criminal justice in college. I was going to apply to be in the CIA. After taking the exam and the physical, the Faction reached out. When those who do their best in any form of military, police work, or government job, the Faction stepped in. The Faction would never admit it, but it was government-funded. That’s how none of us ever got arrested. The killings we did were covered up, never to be heard of again.

         “How long are you here for?”

         “At least thirty days.”

         “Let me hook you up.” He started typing on his computer and pulled out a key fob, and handed it to me. “Here, if you wanna come here and work out, you’re more than welcome. This gym is open twenty-four, seven.”

         I took the key fob. “Thanks.” At least now I had something to fill my time. Those punching bags looked good…I needed to hit something.

         “And if you want to grab a coffee, dinner, or a drink, call me.” He handed me his card.

         “That sounds good.”

         “Yo, Joe.” I turned and the guy who was on his phone leaned into the office.

         “What’s up Jeremy?”

         “That thing is stuck again; can you help me?”

         “Yeah, sure. Give me a second.” Jeremy left and Joe looked at me. “Really, I know that safe house has everything, but if you need some time away just call.”

         “I will. Thanks.” He stood up and gave me a hug.

         “Duty calls.” He laughed and walked after the man named Jeremy.

         I walked out behind him. I got to my car and then saw the liquor store again. I shrugged. “There’s nothing else to do.” I went and perused the shelves. I settled on making a wine crate. I got a carrier and added the different wines from a certain shelf for one flat rate. I grabbed three white and three red ones. I threw a corkscrew on top of it, just in case the house didn’t have one.

         After I loaded up the wine, I found the nearest grocery store and stocked up on easy to heat foods. Enchiladas, lasagnas, Chinese, pizzas, and breakfast sandwiches. I’m ready for the next couple weeks.

         I got back to the house and realized that unloading everything was a challenge. Each time I needed to enter, I had to scan my eyes and my finger. It was a pain in the ass. It was even more a pain in the ass when one of the bags broke and I had to kick the items that fell to the kitchen.

         With everything unloaded and a glass of wine in my hand, I sat down and turned on the television. It was only midafternoon. I wondered if other people do this on their days off. Sat around their house, drink, and watched television. I haven’t watched television in a long time. And if I did, it was more so background noise while I worked on something else. I didn’t care. This was what I was going to do.

I had thirty days to do what I never normally did. Murphey was adamant about my not going back for thirty days. I shouldn’t fight it. I was going to embrace it now. I had a weight off my shoulders. I felt better than I have in months. Thanks to Joe. I found a cooking show with some guy screaming. I settled in for a good night.