Elle

“Target eliminated. No witnesses. Leaving the area.” I speak into the little mic and the computer types out the message while I break down my gun. The man I just killed was the head of a major crime family; I need to get out of this area before his men realise where the shot came from. I’m not in a rush though; I’ve never been caught before and I don’t plan on getting caught today. By the time my gun is secure in its hard casing, I see a little green tick on my computer screen which tells me my payment has been transferred and the job has been marked as done. With a small smile I slam the computer closed, swing my bag over my shoulder and start for the stairs of the abandoned building. I’m in my little van before the dust I’ve disturbed has settled and I’m racing down the road just as the first shouts start sounding over the small walkie I’ve been using to track my mark. I wait for them to confirm what I know and then toss the walkie onto the road; the crunch of the plastic under my van’s tyres is like music to my ears. Another job done, another notch on my belt and another deposit into my retirement fund. The road sign telling me I’m leaving the city limits allows me to let out a small sigh of relief. I might never have been caught before but that doesn’t stop my heart from pounding each time I jump into my van. I’ve been trained for this but no matter how many lessons I was taught, I was never able to control my heart rate when leaving a target area. I was told it was a natural fight-or-flight instinct by my peers but my teachers told me it was weakness, which is why I try like hell to calm myself each time I leave a body behind. 

As soon as I see a spot to hide my van, I pull over and turn off the engine; the world around me is silent, just how I like it. Ever since the new law passed about ten years ago, the roads have been quieter and quieter, which makes it easier for people like me to travel and get the job done without being seen. My van is my home but there is nothing in it that I can’t let go of without a moment’s notice. I have go bags stashed all across the country as per protocol, and if I was totally stuck, I could always go back to The Academy. It's where I was trained to be an assassin, my home and my school. 

“Elle, come in, Elle.” The crackle of my radio pulls me from memories of the past; I recognise Octavia’s voice instantly. We were classmates; we had each other's back when we had no one else. I haven’t seen her for about four years but we talk almost daily over our own personal radio connection. 

“I just took out Leopold Braid, what did you do this morning?” I brag into the radio; we might be friends but we both know that women like us are only as good as our most recent kill. I don’t worry about anyone overhearing us; the line is encrypted and backed up daily so we can both speak freely. We both live a lonely life; these short talks are the closest thing we have to connecting with family. 

“I have to take out some Alpha who thinks women are playthings. I’ve been in this tree for four days and I still can’t get a clean shot.” I can hear the resentment in Octavia’s voice; she knows if I had that job, the Alpha would already be dead and I would be moving onto my next job. My friend is good at her job but I’m the best of the best; I get the high-paying jobs and the ones with the most risk. The Academy gives me the first rejection on all targets so I know exactly which Alpha Octavia is hunting because I refused the job several days ago. The money wasn’t enough and the distance I would have to travel would be taxing on my van. 

“Hold your position, O. Every Alpha messes up eventually; just think of the retirement fund.” I remind her of the plan we put in place when we were children hiding from our teachers. It was a promise made in the dark with no real thought but one we use to keep eachother on the right path. 

“Alaska. A small cabin and the beautiful lights in the sky.” Octavia whispers our promise over the radio. I close my eyes as her dreamy sigh washes over me. We both swore that when we made enough, we would run from The Academy and never look back. I’ve never told her that I could have run five years ago. I stay because I actually like what I do now that I’m not being beaten daily. Octavia is nowhere near ready to go though so I have time to enjoy myself before she forces the issue. 

“Go dark and get it done.” I mutter into the radio before flicking the off switch; my van is suddenly filled with a deafening silence that seems to echo my broken promises back at me.