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Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

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Always receptive to any type of feedback. First crack at this type of story. Enjoy

The Contract

“Roll down your goddamn window if you’re going to smoke,” Jack said with force, “better yet, fucking quit,” he snarled.

“Sorry Jack, I wasn’t thinking,” mumbled Tony, rolling down the passenger window of the car and flicking his nearly full cigarette out. The night was cool but not chill.

Tony looked at Jack, Jack ‘the Hammer’ Dalton people in the outfit called him. Tough as fucking nails. 6’3” covered in tats and built for destruction. There were several rumors as to how he got the nickname Hammer. People say he got the name on account of the fact one time he took on three outfit enforcers and beat the living crap out of them then took a sledge hammer to their car. Others said it was because the time the cops grabbed him when Wells Fargo armored car job went bad. Cops interrogated him for two days, they even took a hammer to his feet to get him to rat, but Jack never squealed, kept his trap shut didn’t even snitch on the pigs that beat him. Did two years in the joint on trumped up shit, never said a word. Tough as fucking nails and solid as a fucking rock.

Jack didn’t like Tony, amateur schmuck, flunky, a pair of eyes for the outfit to watch over him. Piece of shit as far as Jack was concerned. Approaching forty, mass settling around his gut. Probably one cannoli away from a heart attack. Worse though, Tony liked to hurt people smaller than himself, girls especially, sadistic bully. Jack wasn’t over fond of bullies. Even though this was a freelance contract, dragging this lazy lump along was one of the stipulated conditions of the contract on account the last outfit attempt resulted in two missing people, no word, no trace, nothing. Two outfit snipes, just gone. Jack smiled, he knew why they called him. Two reasons, one, he was sure to get the job done, and two, if he didn’t, he was a freelancer anyway, no big loss. The money was big for such a cinch job so he took it.

“We getting close?” Tony asked, nibbling at his thumb nail.

Jack favored him with a ‘shut the fuck up’ stare, then looked back to the road as the last tendrils of dusk started to dwindle. He clicked on the lights and began to climb the winding road up into the Hills overlooking the city. Snob heights they called it, multi-million dollar homes dotted the landscape, a sanctuary for the rich and famous.

Twenty-five minutes later he slowed the car as they passed the gates to the estate on the contract.

“This the place?” asked Tony

“Shut up,” replied Jack. Driving a short distance further down the way, he pulled off the road and backed the car in amongst cover near some trees. This vantage provided a fairly clear view of the gate.

“Your job is sit here and watch that gate, that’s it. You see anyone going in, you text me, get your phone out, you got bars?”

Tony pulled out his cell phone, “I got like one bar, shitty reception up here.”

“One is plenty. What’s your job?

“Make sure no one goes in,” replied Tony.

Jack curled a fist in front of Tony’s thick face, “No, your job is to fucking text me if someone goes in and have the car ready when I come out. This shouldn’t take no more than half an hour. Got it?”

“What if you ain’t back in half an hour?” asked Tony, shrinking back from the fist.

“If I’m not back in an hour, means I pulled a Tommy T,” answered Jack. Everybody knew what had happened to Tommy T. Stupid idiot fell off the fence he was climbing on the way into a job and broke his leg, dumb bastard laid there till morning, to make matters worse, when the cops finally showed up, they hung a beating on him that left him comatose for three days. “I’m not back, come find me because something went sideways.”

Tony nodded but said nothing, while he didn’t much like Jack, he certainly feared the Hammer.

Getting out, Jack did a quick inventory check. Satisfied, he pulled the balaclava down over his face. With an easy lope he crossed the road and approached the wall bordering the estate. The wall was only eight feet high, crowned with no anti-intrusion measures, a vanity wall as opposed to a security wall and he scaled it easily and dropped to the lawn on the other side. The grounds sprawled before. Situated as it was, the estate grounds sloped away with a fantastic view of the city below. Off to the right was a full size tennis court, up ahead the house proper, to the left a guest house. Fancy. Contract info said no security dogs, no patrols, but identified the location of ten security cameras.

Following the pre-planned entry route he mapped out earlier, he slid passed the cameras undetected, a self-satisfied smile hidden under the balaclava, piece of cake. He removed a small LED flashlight from his pocket, turned it on, lifted the bottom of the balaclava up and held it between his teeth. He paused a moment to study the alarm, pretty generic and not too fancy. Brining his utility driver up, he removed the faceplate from the alarm panel, and found the two wires he needed. Clamping an alligator clip over each of the wires, he let the connector dangle while he took his tablet out of the duffel. Plugging the connector into the tablet, the tablet instantly sprang to life, flashing numbers rapidly before spitting out the four digit code needed to de-activate the alarm. Punching in the code, the system beeped three times, then the light on the exposed alarm glowed green. Smiling, he removed his gear and replaced the faceplate. The lock was easy enough to pick, no alarm bells, smooth sailing. The entry way into the grand house opened into a broad room. There were stairs on his left leading to the lower floor of the house. The interior of the house’s upper floor resembled something out of some type of show home magazine. The foyer sprawled into an expansive kitchen with stainless steel appliances polished granite countertops. An island of cabinets separated the kitchen from the dining area. An antique china cabinet decorated the wall in the dining room, beyond a hallway led deeper into the house. To his left opened a spacious room with hand carved leather bound furniture and an imposing marble fireplace. Everywhere he looked revealed some new treasure. He had been in the game long enough to distinguish between the fake crap and the real deal, and this had the genuine feel. Business first he mumbled to himself. Dropping his duffle bag on the kitchen island, he needed to locate and acquire the two articles listed on the contract, an egg sized black stone, and of all things, a hairbrush from the bathroom off the master bedroom. Weird, but the pay was enough for him to overlook the oddity of the request. The stone was easy to find, it was situated on the mantle of the fire place in what he presumed to be some type of den or living room, two ornate golden figurines, each about 10 inches high also adorned the mantle, he grabbed those as well. He smiled to himself, he liked it when things went smooth. Returning to the kitchen he set the stone and statuettes in his duffel and grabbed a small cloth bag. Down the corridor and to the left he found what appeared to be the master bedroom. The place was a veritable treasure trove and he meant to cash in. He emptied the jewelry box on the dresser into his cloth pouch before looking for the brush in the en suite. Walking back down the corridor from the bedroom, he heard a sound. He stopped. It sounded like keys in the lock of the front door. He leaned back against the wall and let out a slow calculated breath controlling his anger. The contract information guaranteed the place would be empty. He clicked off the flashlight and placed it back into his pocket. The breach in information would force him to re-negotiate his rate. Amateur bullshit. Peering around the corner of the wall, he stuffed the jewelry filled cloth bag into his pocket and withdrew the pistol from his shoulder holster. Next he pulled a silencer and slowly threaded it onto the pistol, he waited. He hated it when a supposedly easy job got ugly. First they saddle him with that plug Tony and now the stupid fuck doesn’t even gives him a heads up there was someone coming onto the estate. He and Tony were definitely going to have a conversation when the job was done, the physical kind.

Unexpected company

“No she’s gone for the week,” said a young sounding female voice as the front door opened. Suddenly the area was bathed in light.

“Where did she go?” asked another youthful feminine voice, a sexy southern lilt to her speech. As the door closed. He could hear beeps coming off the alarm pad by the inside of the door. “Shit, I think I just set it, it must’ve been off. Just a sec,” more beeps. “There’s an auction or something in London or Amsterdam she was planning on attending.”

“What about your sister?”

“She went with, after what happened last week mother didn’t want her here alone,” answered the woman who had spoken first.

Closer to where he was concealed, “The place is all ours then, sweet, we can…” the second speaker paused. “There’s a black bag on the counter in the kitchen.”

“What?” Footsteps drawing nearer.

“Look, come see.”

He could hear the sounds of them examining the contents of the duffel. “This is my mother’s stuff,” said the first voice.

“I think we are not alone,” commented the slightly accented voice.

Jack shook his head slowly, cursing mentally. Stepping from around the corner, he leveled the silenced pistol in the direction of the two women he found standing there. The first woman he saw was a blonde, maybe 5’9”, long straight hair pinned back, streaks of bright blue matching the color of her eyes. Dressed in a snug top and black exercise pants, she was absolutely stunning, there was an indescribable quality about her beauty. She appeared to have a long lean body, like something you would expect to see in a Victoria Secret catalog. Ample breasts pressed against the fabric of her top, her eyes widened slightly at the sight of the weapon pointed in her direction. The second woman, maybe and inch shorter, stood behind the kitchen island. She too possessed long hair pulled back, hair so dark it was almost midnight. She was no less striking than the blond woman, though she appeared to have a slightly more athletic build. She glared at him with eyes so green they were almost luminescent. She appeared similarly attired in a shirt and black exercise pants. He swallowed hard. He had been with some beautiful women in his time, but nothing he had seen could compare to the two young women standing a few feet away. He guessed them to both be late teens maybe early twenties, but he was not sure.

The dark haired woman spoke first, “What are doing in my mother’s home?” she challenged, nonplussed by the fact she was on the business end of the pistol. Her voice snapped him out of the fog and brought him back to the moment.

“Nobody screams, nobody gets hurt. Hands where I can see them girls. Is there anybody else with you?” he growled, voice low and menacing.

“What are you doing here?” demanded the dark haired woman again, brow furled, lips pursed.

“Be a good little girl and do what you’re told and this will be over shortly,” he instructed.

“Who do you think you are?” demanded the brunette, pointing her left index finger at him.

“Listen sweetheart, this can go two ways, easy, or not so easy,” with his free hand he reached into his back pocket and pulled out a handful of zip ties.

“You mean to tie us up?” asked the blonde, caution in her cerulean eyes.

“I am only going to give you this opportunity one time. Empty your pockets of any of my mother’s things and leave now. This is the only time I will be this magnanimous. Fail to do so, all bets are off,” warned the raven haired beauty, a slight tug at the corner of her Cupid’s bow mouth. The blonde raised a hand to her face, it looked to Jack as if she were trying to mask a smile.

“Perhaps you fail to appreciate the situation here doll, this is a gun and it is loaded with a whole lot of hurt. Do as I say and no one needs to get hurt,” he threatened.

“Did you just call her doll?” asked the blonde, eyebrows slight raised.

“Going…” said the brunette

“What? Are the pair of you stupid or something? Blondie, take these ties,” he instructed, motioning her toward him with the pistol.

“I don’t think so,” she replied softly, gently shaking her head.

“Going…” added repeated the brunette.

“What the hell is wrong with you? Are you both stunned? This is a fucking gun!” he snarled, not only angry at being defied, but because he really did not want to have to hurt these women who were probably no more than teenagers.

“Gone,” said the brunette. “Never say you weren’t afforded the opportunity for this to end some other way.”

“What the fuck? Stuck up cunt. Are you just too stupid to realize you’re staring death in the face? It didn’t have to be this way but I guess we do this the hard way,” he retorted, anger making his voice hard.

“Stuck up cunt? You’re right, it didn’t have to be this way, but this is on you. You are the one who will bear the consequences of what happens from here on out,” replied the brunette, face angry.

“Oh Clare,” said the blonde, letting out a sigh and shaking her head softly.

“You have no idea where you’ve stumbled into, do you?” asked Clare, stabbing her index finger in his direction, the long slender finger ending in a splash a scarlet.

Stepping closer, he pressed the end of the silencer against the side of the blonde woman’s head and held out the zip ties. Standing this close to the blonde he felt a surge of warmth shudder through him, as if proximity to this woman brought him within range of her natural heat.

“You better step away from Angela,” warned the brunette. “Or I promise you, you will regret it!”

“This is all very intense,” whispered the blonde, voice rapid, pouty lips parted and breathing shallow.

“Or what?” countered Jack. While he really had no desire to ventilate Blondie’s skull, he couldn’t understand why these young women were being so defiant.

 

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