PRINCELESS by Cam Jace Storykiller
Copyright©by Cameron Jace 2019
The Pillar sat on a bench with arms stretched sideways next to Venus. He wore a blue suit with golden buttons and a hat from Victorian times, plus a cane that made him look like some otherworldly villain.
Venus sat in silence next to him, staring at the same tall building. A fortress skyscraper of architecture with business suits and private rentals for the richest of the rich. Venus had matched her wardrobe, wearing an expensive business suit today. Her silencer was tucked neatly underneath. A five piece that looked like a LEGO and took five seconds to put together. The bullet was a syringe that killed instantly.
“I love Singapore.” The Pillar said tapping his hat to a winking Asian lady. “Do you know that dropping a hamburger's wrapper on the floor is fined at the price of a man’s monthly wage in this city?”
“I didn’t.” Venus grew impatient wanting to know about her mission.
“We should celebrate your kill with some junk food today,” he said. “And then leave the greasy dirty wraps on the floor in plain sight.”
“Are you bragging you’re making enough money to handle such a ridiculous fine?”
“I’m bragging that I don’t have to pay, “ he winked and put his silencer on his lap. “Assassins never pay, not even taxes.”
Venus fidgeted, “Put it away please. What if children are watching?”
“It’s a lego gun, Venus. You shouldn’t be as stressed before a kill. This is your third. Your graduating ticket. I’m still evaluating.”
The change of tone confused Venus. The Pillar had treated everything like a walk in the park. Why the mood today?
“I’m relaxed,” she held her chin up. “And you should know by now that I will execute the kill.”
He smiles but with his eyes. “Don’t let your ego surface. It will get you killed like a fly on the wall.”
She nodded. He was right.
“Besides you should know the assassins lingo by now. We don’t call it kill. We call it ‘gig.'”
“Gig? Like a music show?”
“We all sing and dance, don’t we?” he tapped his gun. “And you look like you have been dancing for a few days.”
Venus knew what he meant. She looked away.
“Nothing wrong with love,” he said. “Just take it slow until you're sure it's actually love.”
“I don’t remember my personal relationships being part of my contract.”
“Sex is an endorphin maker. Love is made of melatonin.”
“An assassin swept by her feet is not in her best focus to execute the gig next day.”
“That’s the worst allegory I’ve ever heard of.”
The Pillar chuckles. “You got me. It is bad, but you know what I mean, “ he tucked his gun in and stood up. “Besides you’re glowing with such happiness. I envy you.”
Venus smiled and stood up beside him. There was no point in looking in his eyes. She reckoned the Pillar liked to compliment while looking away. It was as if the job had turned him into a ruthless killer, and showing he was human had to be done sideways, not confrontational.
“So what’s the gig, old man?” She nudged him.
“Wan Tsu, North Korean gun smuggler. The American and British governments love him but pretend otherwise on the news. A communist at heart. He likes escorts but knows he is always watched so he does it between meetings.”
“So that is what the building is about. Blowing off steam camouflaged by business meetings,” Venus considered. “Why am I killing him? He just wants to get laid.”
“Two hours from now he will sign one of the biggest gun deals of the century.”
“Don’t you think it’s ironic he might have sold us one of his guns?”
“We're not killing him because of that. The guns will be sent to South American cartels who recruit kids and women.”
“I see,” she sighed.
“The story is that–”
“Actually I don’t want to know.”
The Pillar rose an eyebrow.
“I trust you. The last people I killed gave me nightmares. I'm in a bit of a jolly mood today.”
“But of course,” he tickled her chin with his forefingers. “Does he use condoms?”
“Pillar!” Venus tensed. “None of your goddamn fucking business.”
“What?” He loved teasing her. “I was talking about Wan Tzu.”
“You weren’t talking about Wan Tzu.”
“It’s okay, I am happy for you. Would you like me to do a check on him?”
“Who? Pierre?” She laughed . “He is not like us. Just a normal guy.”
“All right,” he ushered her. “Make it swift and kill the man.”
“What do you mean by swift?”
“Shoot him close range, take him down the elevator, make it look like nothing bad happened and throw him in some dumpster. It’s crucial that you be calm all the way down and out, and that you make people believe he is sick. That's your graduation test.”