The Hit

Chapter





50





THE MEETING WAS NOT SCHEDULED.

It really didn’t have to be.

Sam Kent sat on one side of the small oval table. Across from him was another man, younger, fitter, shorter, with hands like bricks and a torso like a wall.

His name was Anthony Zim.

He did not go by Tony.

“They picked Robie for obvious reasons,” said Kent.

Zim nodded. “Good choice. He knows what he’s doing.”

“And he’s not off the grid like you.”

“I’m not off the grid, Mr. Kent,” Zim corrected. “I’m offline. There’s a difference, a big one.”

“I realize that,” said Kent quietly. “I was instrumental in putting you there. Where we could maximize your talents.”

Zim said nothing. He placed his palms on the tabletop. Even sitting he kept his weight balanced on the balls of his feet. He could move in an instant if he needed to. And over the years he had needed to on many occasions.

“Jessica Reel,” said Kent.

Zim just sat there, waiting.

Kent continued, “She’s out there and she’s growing more troublesome by the minute.”

“She was always good at that.”

“I take it you knew her well?”

“No one knew Reel well. Just like no one knows Robie. They kept it all inside. Just like I do. Goes with the territory.”

“But you worked with her?”

“Yes.”

“And Robie?

“Twice. Both in support roles. Turns out he didn’t need the support.”

“Can you take out either or both of them, if it comes to it?”

“Yes. If the conditions are right.”

“We can try to make sure they are.”

“I need you to do better than try.”

Kent frowned. “I came to you because I understood you were one of the best.”

“You’re asking me to go after two people who may be as good as me. Singly I can probably take them. Together, there are no guarantees.”

“Then we have to make sure they never get together.”

“Robie is tasked to go after her. Maybe he’ll get there and save you the trouble.”

“There have been recent developments with Robie that give me some concern about that happening.”

Zim shifted his weight slightly. “Such as?”

“Reportedly he’s starting to think for himself on this rather than following orders. And it’s more than that.”

“I need to know it all.”

“Reel has been communicating with him. Telling him things.”

“Manipulating him, you mean. She’s good at that.”

“I didn’t think you knew her well?”

“I knew her enough to know that.” Zim leaned forward an inch. “Can I make a suggestion?”

“I’m listening.”

“Let it play out. Robie kills Reel. Or vice versa. Or they kill each other.”

“That was the original plan. It may still happen,” replied Kent. He leaned forward until he was only a few inches from Zim. “You’re the fail-safe. And if I’m reading things correctly you’re going to be deployed to get the job done. I can’t count on an ideal world. That’s a sucker’s bet and involves an element of luck that I simply can’t depend on.”

“Then the conditions better be right.”

“As you suggested, I will do better than try.”

“How?” said Zim.

“Jessica Reel isn’t the only one who can manipulate.”

“Not as easy as it might look.”

Kent said, “I don’t think it’s easy at all. It’s very difficult, in fact.”

“So how?”

“I’ll take care of that. You take care of your end.”

“That’s all I get?”

“Compartmentalize. It’s the best protocol all around.”

“You’re not the sort I expected.”

“You mean a judge?”

Zim shrugged.

Kent smiled. “I’m a special kind of judge, Mr. Zim. My time behind the bench is limited to a very few cases. The rest of the time is spent doing other things for my country. I like doing these other things far more than my infrequent rulings from the bench.”

“You must have pull. Otherwise I wouldn’t be sitting here with you.”

“I have more than pull. I’m often the one doing the pulling.”

“When will I be deployed?”

“The exact timing is unknown. But if I’m reading the tea leaves correctly it will be very soon. You’re to be ready twenty-four/seven. Move at a moment’s notice.”

“Story of my life,” replied Zim.

“Let’s hope it’s not the story of your death.”

“Goes with the territory.”

Kent sat back. “You keep saying that. I might start believing it.”

“I don’t expect you to understand it, Mr. Kent. It’s a small club I’m a member of.”

“I actually can understand that.”

“I don’t think so. Not unless you’ve killed as many people as I have. And there aren’t many in the world who have.”

“How many have you killed?”

“Thirty-nine. That’s one reason I’m interested in Reel. She’d make an even forty.”

“That’s impressive. And of course Robie would make it a very uneven forty-one.”

“Not something I would lose sleep over, I can assure you.”

“Glad to hear that.”

Kent smiled. The muzzle was against Zim’s forehead before he had time to react.

Zim’s eyes widened as the metal pressed against his skin.

Kent said, “As I mentioned, I wasn’t always a judge. I checked your file. You’ve been working for eleven years. Is that right?”

When Zim didn’t answer Kent pushed the muzzle harder against his face. “Is that right?’

“Yes.”

Kent nodded. “I pulled an even twenty. That was before they put a cap on time in the field to fifteen. I think people these days have gotten a little softer. I never even had decent night optics. Did four kills in the dead of night with a flashlight and a piece-of-shit Vietnam-era sniper rifle. But I still got the job done. And by the way, I never bragged about my kill total.”

Kent pulled the gun’s hammer back. “One more thing: did I mention that there was a test involved in your selection?”

“Test?” asked a bewildered Zim.

“If an old man could get the drop on you, I don’t think you’re much use to me. You’re not even qualified to wipe Robie’s or Reel’s ass. Which means this interview is officially over.”

Kent pulled the trigger, the gun fired, and the round destroyed Zim’s brain. He fell backward out of his chair.

Kent rose, wiped the blood blowback off his face with a handkerchief, and then holstered his gun.

He looked down at the body. “And for the record, I finished with sixty kills. There’s only one person out there with more. He’s old-school. Just like me. I never would’ve gotten the drop on him like I did you. A*shole.”

Kent walked out the door.