Killer of Kings, 1
Sam Crescent & Stacey Espino
Copyright © 2017
Chapter One
“You think you can handle it?” Boss asked.
Viper stared out across the parking lot. A lot of shoppers were milling around today, going about their own pathetic lives, believing they were the most important thing in the world.
None of them had any idea that one of the world’s deadliest killers was amongst them. He was part of an elite group of mercenaries. He killed for the money. Whoever offered the highest bounty, he took it. He never asked questions, and he never cared about the people he killed. This was a job to him, something he was good at.
“Why can’t I handle it? Send me a picture of the girl. I’ll do the rest.”
“She has to die of natural causes.”
Viper snorted. “No problem.”
He had one month to find a woman, and to end her life. Piece of cake. He had lots of ways of killing a woman, and this would be no different.
“Deposit the money, and I’ll call you if I need more.” Viper whistled as he made his way toward the car. He put the groceries in the trunk, got behind the wheel, and waited.
Her picture came through his cell phone, and he stared at the girl in question. She couldn’t have been older than fifteen, but from what Boss had told him, she was nearly twenty-one years old, and had been on the run for nearly six months. Curious.
The picture showed her cuddled up next to her mother, and she looked happy. Pepper was chubby, her cheeks looking like the kind you could pinch, and grandmothers cooed over. Boss had given him all the details over the phone. Viper didn’t do paperwork, reading, or worrying about something being tracked.
He memorized everything. All the little details were up in his head, and that was where they would stay until the job was gone.
Viper didn’t know why the woman in question, Pepper, was running, and he really didn’t care. The moment Boss called him and gave him an assignment, he did it. Now he just needed to figure out where she was staying.
Good news for him, he had a special guy who owned equipment that could find him this woman. Leaving the grocery store, Viper made his way across the city toward the guy who he knew would hook him up.
Whenever he was in between jobs, he would always stick around where his people were so that he didn’t have to worry about endless traveling. Working for Killer of Kings was rather lucrative. They were a company known for getting the job done. Nothing was too much, no job too hard. He had traveled all over the world to do what needed to be done, from killing people, to fucking women, to even rescuing people. If the price was right, he would do anything.
From a young age, younger than any child should ever have to deal, he had been taught to hunt, to kill, and to do it without feeling a damn thing. There were scars on his back that all bled together that reminded him a past he wished he could forget. When he saw children with their parents, for a split second he felt envious, jealous that they could be having a wonderful life, a better one than he ever had. Of course they were having a better life than he had. None of them had ever gone through the hours of pain or the training that had made him one of the deadliest men on earth.
Parking his car outside of one of the shittiest apartments in the city, he made his way toward his contact, Maurice. The guy was thirty years old, a slob, but damn good when it came to computers. He was the only one who gave Viper the facts without giving him files thick with writing and shit. Viper didn’t want to be studying. Cold, hard facts were what he was after, and he didn’t need paperwork that could be traced.
Maurice lived on the top floor. He was a tall, skinny man who wore big, thick glasses. Banging on the door, Viper waited, and when Maurice opened the door his shirt was covered in ketchup and mustard stains.
“I’ve told you to change,” Viper said, entering the room.
“Yeah, well, I didn’t think I’d see you for a couple more weeks. You usually take time off. Why are you back after just a week?” Maurice asked.
The apartment was littered with debris. Only the sitting room, the place where all the computers and equipment were set up was spotless.
“You need to get a cleaning lady,” Viper said. He hated mess.
Mess equaled mistakes.
He was clean, efficient, and he didn’t have anything to leave behind. Even his apartment where he stayed during his vacations didn’t hold any personal mementos. Not that he would ever have those. Mementos would mean caring, and that wasn’t what he did. He didn’t have a family, a past, nor would he have a future.
“Cleaning ladies touch stuff, and I know where everything is.”
Viper looked around the apartment. “It stinks.”
“So? It keeps everyone out, okay? This is my mess. My problem. Not yours. What do you want?” Maurice asked, shoving his glasses up his nose.