The Hitman's Last Job



Pulling out the rope from the inside of his jacket, he wound the ends around his hands while looking Reiner in the eye. Next he strode over and quickly grabbed him by the arm and twisted it behind his back. The old man screamed and grimaced in pain, but Jorge didn’t care. He just pulled at the other arm and secured both wrists together. Reiner made a pained and pathetic noise as he was dragged by his shirt collar down the stairs into the basement.

It was a dark yet strangely homely space filled with Reiner’s various hobby crafts and old photographs. It wasn’t the usual dungeon that Jorge was used to but it would do. He placed his captive in the corner and tied the rope to a water pipe. He looked down to check that it was tight enough and he saw that Reiner’s hands were quickly turning purple.

“Good job,” he muttered to himself. “Soon the pain will be unbearable,”


And for good measure he kicked his prisoner in the groin. He yelped in agony but again Jorge didn’t care. He liked to watch the struggling. It was times like this he wished he was prepared, and he thought it would have been nice to have some snacks to hand. He’d sit in front of the old guy and kick back, relax and watch the torture. All he had though was cigarettes. He lit one and blew the smoke into Reiner’s face who immediately began to cough.

“Why are you doing this?” his voice was becoming increasingly desperate.
“I won’t have to do anything if you tell me where Carl is,”
“But I don’t know! I mean I wish I knew… I miss my son,”
“Urgh…. You’re a real sorry son of a bitch you know that?” Jorge spat on the ground.


He looked down at the pitiful state of Reiner Snr and compared him to the young hitman that he knew.

“How did that man even come outta you?” he asked mockingly. “He’s twice the man you’ll ever be,” and he watched the old man begin to cry.


This was getting nowhere. Old Reiner obviously knew nothing and was only likely to piss himself rather than give up any useful information.

“When was the last time you saw him?” Jorge prodded one last time.
“About 4 years ago. We had a big argument. He’s never been back,” and he looked genuinely sorry.
“Hmmmm…..” Something about his expression made Jorge believe him.


But he wasn’t the sort of guy that just let people go. Instead he left him there in the corner and turned the light off as he walked up the stairs.


CHAPTER 9

Carl and Anna were running headlong into nowhere with nothing but what they carried.

“We’ve got to stick to the back roads and away from the motels. They’ll be checking every single one in the state,”
“But how can they have that many men on the ground? They can’t really have eyes everywhere!”
“Believe me girl they do… more than you could know,” he blurted out angrily as he dipped into an alley way.
“What are we to do?” Anna was frantic. “Where do we go?”
“Shut up a minute, I’m thinking,” he winced in pain as his back ached.


He leaned against the wall for support and looked to the sky. Something caught his eye and he placed his hand over his brows to block the sun.

“Hey… I think I see something” and he jogged up the alleyway slowly with a slight limp.
“Fuck! Don’t leave me,” she ran after him.


Carl stopped halfway down the alley and looked up the side of the building. He was eyeing up an apartment that looked abandoned.

“Wait here,”
“No! Don’t leave me!”
“I’ll be two seconds,” and he disappeared out the alley.


He came back a few moments later with a look of optimism.

“There a sign on the front. It’s been foreclosed,”
“So?”
“It means it’s empty dummy,” he laughed. “Come on,”


Carl led Anna up the fire escape taking two steps at a time.

“Now what?” Anna was both confused and exhilarated at the top.
“Now we get in…. believe me I know what I’m doing,”
“I don’t wanna know how!” she looked away as Carl pulled out a pen knife and expertly opened the window.


He slid it up with a smile. “Home sweet home… now let’s hope there’s no alarm.

“This is fucking crazy,” Anna was outraged.
“Well you got a better idea?”
“Guess not,” she mumbled.
“Uhuh,”


And they climbed in to find an apartment that had an atmosphere akin to the Mary Celeste. The furniture was intact and there were cups and personal objects scattered about the place, as though the owner left this morning. But the thick layer of dust showed otherwise. Anna thought that it was terribly sad someone’s home had to be evacuated in such way. She wandered into a bedroom and saw the bed sheets were turned back. It was a sorry thought that some poor soul awoke to start the day but then never returned.

Meanwhile Carl was searching for more important things. He opened a cupboard in the hallway.

“Urgh... The power’s off,”


Anna turned a tap on in the bathroom.

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