PRINCELESS by Cam Jace Storykiller
Copyright©by Cameron Jace 2019
Interior, Skyscraper, Singapore
Venus stood before Wan Tzu’s door, ready to push the digital buzzer on the side. Earlier, she made a deal with the Pillar that she would neither take her clothes off or play dirty games. This wasn’t her thing and the Pillar liked that.
In fact, that was out of question. This ‘gig’ was an exercise in calmness and poker-faced execution.
She made sure the corridor was empty and then buzzed the ringer.
The door didn’t open.
She took a deep breath, looked left and right and made sure she assembled her little toy gun and that it was ready to use.
“Come on, gun dealer,” she mumbled. “I don’t have all day. I kinda have a life now…” her lips fought a smile.
She was about to buzz again when the door sprang open.
Wan Tzu was a tall man. Well built. Dead eyes. High cheekbones. Forty something but would happily take down Bruce Lee in a hand to hand combat—and he wouldn’t pant once.
Venus. Didn’t. Expect. That.
He was fully dressed. Tuxedo. Expensive Swiss watch. No tie. Little grey had touched his sideburns. The visible part of his hand was tattooed. It looked like an instrument drawn amid a circle of stars. A flute?
“You don’t look like a Victoria,” he said in a proud asian accent. She couldn’t tell which country.
“Oh,” she flipped her eyelashes. “They told me you were into Victorias.”
He smirked, staring at her from top to bottom. “I’d like you to be my bitch—“
And like that, Wan Tzu was gone. The bitch had just shot him—in the crotch.
“Nothing personal,” Venus whispered in his ears and held him before the fall. “The syringe works faster down there.”
She pushed Wan Tzu back in, her eyes making sure no one saw her. She also avoided the room’s surveillance camera which the Pillar had her study in the park. A wheel chair leaned against the wall near the mirror. Venus sat Mr. Tzu down on it.
The Pillar had arranged the chair earlier this morning. Mr. Wan Tzu was known to get drunk enough he passed out and the chair seemed convenient for his lapses.
Venus adjusted his head, as much as possible and opened the door. She drove Mr. Tzu out to the elevator.
This was all the organization wanted from her, showing them she can be ice cold with a dead man in the wheelchair, walking him out. Killing a dirty man was an add-on, a bonus. The gig was to test Venus’ temper after she lost control killing Alan Drax in public. Kicking him after he had died was frowned up by the Organization.
Ice cold, eyes dead, she rolled the man with his sunken head through the corridor.
Coming the opposite way, a waiter holding a plate up stared at her quizzically.
“Mr. Tzu, you know,” she rolled her eyes. “Drunk as always.”
“This early?” the waiter stopped. “It’s usually after he had his fun all night.”
“I’m good. Ain’t I?” She winked.
The waiter drooled and watched her arrive at the elevator.
The door chimed open.
Two business men, one adjusting his golden shirt buttons, stood staring at Venus with Tzu in the chair. A long moment of silence stretched. Their quizzical eyes complicated the awkwardness. Her eyes stared back, deadpan and naughty.
The moment lingered, so much that Venus had to stop the door from closing with her hand. “You guys like foreplay, don’t you?”
The first businessman coughed at the implication and snaked himself out.
The other with the golden buttons was handsome, thirty something, collected. Venus wondered why he would use such a building but it was none of her business.
“Tzu drank too much,” he leaned forward holding the elevator's door open and staring into her eyes, whispering, “Or you fucked him drunk?”
Venus struggled not to laugh. The place reeked of cheese and sleaze. But still, she liked a good comeback.
She rolled the wheelchair inside. The business man making room for her.
“He’s not drunk. I killed him,” She stood with her back to the wall, a smirk on her face, still calm like the Organization wanted her to act, but amusing herself nonetheless. “You want in next?”
The business man didn’t quite get it. He yanked his hand awy from the door then he laughed, pointing a finger at her. “Haha, good one.”
The door slid to a close.
Venus wanted to relax and breathe and be herself, but she knew of the cameras, so she held to her cold demeanor. It was only fourteen floors down.
Then suddenly she heard this crazy sound from a speaker:
Seven seconds and counting…
Six seconds and counting…
Five seconds to detonation, and counting…