Hitman Damnation

THIRTY-NINE



The Jean Danjou II gently rocked at anchor off the coast of Sardinia. She had spent the last week island-hopping, perpetuating the pretense that the yacht was owned by a wealthy tycoon who had nothing better to do than sail around the Mediterranean for no reason at all.

Deep within the ship’s bowels, however, it was business as usual in the Agency’s command center. At least six different operations were active around the globe. Handlers monitored their assassins’ progress every step of the way. Managers initiated contracts with clients and supervised the handlers. The money poured in to the ICA’s coffers. Personnel were paid, expenses were met, and life—and death—went on.

Benjamin Travis sat in his cabin/office studying the latest reports from America.

What a mess …

He hadn’t slept, had a cranium-busting headache, and was fighting a cold. On top of that, upper management was pressuring him for an update on his pet project and demanding answers for what was perceived as a monumental screwup in Washington, D.C.

The Agency’s top assassin was missing. No one knew if Agent 47 was alive or dead. Travis knew the operative well enough to believe that the hitman had gone into hiding. Again. Since law-enforcement authorities in the States had failed to recover a body in D.C.’s Tidal Basin, it could only mean that 47 had indeed escaped and was holed up somewhere, biding his time.

The fact of the matter was that the ICA’s greatest killer had succeeded against all odds. No one could have pulled off the spectacular hit on Charlie Wilkins. Sure, there was a tremendous amount of collateral damage. That was unfortunate but, given the circumstances, unavoidable. That kind of thing came with the territory. Nevertheless, the hitman had proven that he was still at the top of his game.

Now if they could only find him, bring him in, debrief, and move on to the next stage.

Travis was more concerned about the Diana Burnwood situation. Until the traitorous bitch was located, his pet project was in jeopardy. Upper management was breathing down his neck. Where was the money going? Where were the results? Why was he being so secretive?

He didn’t want to tell them the truth. Travis couldn’t reveal what Burnwood had done. So far only a few select individuals knew about it, and that was a few too many. Sooner or later, management would find out, and Travis’s head would roll. Until then, he would work continuously on damage control, spin tales, stall reports, and wait with frustration as Jade did her magic. The lead to Burnwood’s whereabouts in the midwestern United States seemed promising at first, but the trail had gone cold. Travis had given his assistant a severe reprimand, which the stoic woman brushed off as just another of her boss’s outbursts. Jade was one tough customer. He knew that someday she would have his job if he didn’t watch out.

The manager stood, rubbed his weary red eyes, and moved to the stand where he kept a coffeemaker. He poured a cup and swigged it down, black. He’d consumed so much caffeine in the past several days that he had the shakes.

Travis considered bailing. Pack a bag, get off at the next island, and try to disappear. If Burnwood wasn’t found soon, then the shit would indeed hit the fan. No one was simply fired from the Agency. They didn’t hand out a pink slip and severance package. Failure had far more serious consequences. He wouldn’t be able to just revamp a résumé and go knocking on doors for new employment. It didn’t work that way in the ICA.

To be an employee for the Agency, you put your life on the line. It’s why you were paid the big bucks.

There was a knock on the cabin door.

“Yeah?”

It opened to reveal his assistant, looking marvelous as usual in her sexy business suit, glasses, and high heels. Travis often fantasized about nailing Jade in a moment of unbridled passion, but he knew it would never happen.

Dream on, Travis, he thought to himself.

“What is it?” he asked.

There was a hint of a smile on her face.

“What?”

“You’d better be ready to kiss my ass,” Jade said.

He almost snapped at her, but Travis took a breath and calmly replied, “I really don’t have time for this. What do you want?”

“You’ll have time for this. We found her.”

Travis blinked. “What?”

“Burnwood. We got her. She’s in Illinois, just like I thought. We know exactly where she is. And she’s got the package with her.”

He wanted to kiss the woman, but Travis refrained. “That’s excellent news.”

“I thought it would make your day.”

“It does. Now you know what your next priority is.”

“Find Agent 47.”

“Precisely.”

She nodded, left the cabin, and closed the door.

Benjamin Travis sighed with relief, went to his bunk, and lay down.

He was finally able to sleep.