My Worst Enemy

Chapter 1.-

His eyes were stuck on the big shiny board where the numbers and writings were constantly changing. The iced sea orbs were concealed behind his big blue metallic aviators that helped him hide their coldness. Not that he had any emotions to show anyway. He was there to do a job and was patiently waiting for the right moment to make his move.

His hands were buried inside his gray, perfectly pleated trousers that were held at his waist by a brown belt revealed by his light blue tucked-in shirt. He was very meticulous in the way he dressed, knowing that he could either make a good impression or fail to blend in, and get himself killed.

Blending in his environment was as crucial as being precise. Five years since he's been fully immerse in this business and he had learned, after flirting with death too many times to count, that his instincts were his best ally. He trusted them and they've never let him down. And right now, they were all telling him to stand still and to wait for the perfect moment. He had all the patience in the world.

He wasn't one to panic. He was known and respected for being able to make quick decisions in the most dangerous situations. Everybody knew that he was the best and feared him. They were lining at his door, bribing him to clean their dirty laundry because they all knew that, once he was on the prowl, he never failed. He had quickly understood that it was either kill or get killed. And well, he was still alive, wasn't he?

Many people were passing by, not paying attention to him but he could describe them down to the speed of their steps, without even looking at them. That's what he was trained for. To be the best without making any apparent efforts. He rolled his shoulders to replace the strap of his bag to the right place and shifted from one foot to the other.

The voice over the PA invited everybody to come check-in for their flight and he still didn't move, waiting for his target to move. A long line was formed in front of the only working stewardess and his expert eyes ran through the crowd looking for his prey. A devious smirk crawled up the corner of his mouth when he saw his soon-to-be victim nervously walking, his big gut preceding him, sweating like the pig that he was, oblivious to the fact that he was going to die in the next few minutes.

He was pulling after him a little girl who was holding on to a stuffed bear and who was obviously his daughter. They had the same brown hair and their faces were shaped the same way. So, he was a father? How can pigs like that get to be fathers? But he didn't care. He had been paid millions to do a job and they were counting on him to deliver. She will just be an other fatherless child in this world that's all.

He locked his eyes on them and his lopsided smile spread even more over his lips, when he saw the target heading to the restrooms, still pulling the little girl after him. His instincts told him that was his chance and he followed them from a safe distance. He wasn't walking fast, his hands still tucked in his pockets; he had all the time in the world. He saw them heading to the mens section and watched him talk to the little girl, setting her up to wait for him. He didn't even bother to quicken his pace, knowing he would make it on time. He glanced down at the child sitting on the floor and promised himself to bring her to one of the security agents after he'd be done.

Once inside, he quickly counted the locked doors to know how many people were occupying the small compartments. He smiled again, seeing just two other men in front of the urinals, opposite to where his target was. They were practically alone. The big gutted man was pissing, his back at him. He pulled out the fountain pen from his pocket and removed the cap, holding it firmly near the pointy end. From the corner of his eyes, he made sure no one was paying attention to him and swiftly introduced the nib in the fat man's neck releasing the poison, then removed it immediately.

It all happened in a fraction of a second and he quickly walked away, standing in front the next urinal and watched the man automatically put his hand on his neck and hit it, feeling just a mosquito's bite. The man urinating raised his head, looking around him to finally give up on finding the fly, cussing silently. He was zipping up his pants when he stopped, bringing his hand to his chest. He was covered in sweat and his mouth was opened, trying to catch his breath. Before the target fell down, he was already next to him, delivering his message. The man's eyes opened wide, showing his surprise listening to him and died as soon as he hit the floor, mouth and eyes opened.

But he was already outside when he heard someone's cry to call an ambulance. He walked up to the first security agent he found and gave her his most charming smile, talking in his perfect fake Bostonian accent.

"I'm sorry mam. I was wondering if you could keep an eye on my daughter for me please? I have to run back to the car to pick up a bag and I don't want to leave her alone."

"Sure." she quickly answered, smiling back. "Where is she?"

He lowered his voice, giving her his best smile. "Actually she's sitting right there." He showed her the little girl and continued, whispering. "She wants to be a big girl and wait by herself so if you could jut keep an eye on her just to make sure she's fine."

She winked at him and answered cheerfully. "Of course. You take your time. I'll watch her."

"Thank you."

He quickly walked away as he saw a team of first-aids in uniform, running to the restrooms. He pulled out his phone from his back and speed-dialed a number, evening his steps.

"Yeah" He said sharply when the phone was answered. "It's done… heading to the gate right now."

He listened for a moment to the voice giving him instructions and hung up without saying anything else. He located his gate number and headed to the bathroom in the far left corner, not too far from the loading area. He picked up a gray beanie from the front pocket of his bag and lowered his head as he entered the white tiles restroom with a strong smell of pine-sol, enough to make him gag. He closed the stall after him and carefully detached his fake mustache from his upper lip as well as the fake eyebrows and put them in the water in the back of the toilet bowl. He quickly changed his shirt for a black v-neck t-shirt and his brown leather shoes, for some plaid Jack Purcell and went to sit quietly on a chair, exhaling.

One down. One to go. He looked at the time on his watch and let his head fall back, closing his eyes. His flight was scheduled to leave in one hour. He smiled, feeling proud of himself for being perfectly on schedule. He wasn't too happy at the perspective of spending 10 hours locked in a plane, suspended in the air but he was told that the island had the most beautiful beaches and women, so he actually couldn't wait to go there. He would just execute his next job and take a week off before going back to the craziness his life was.

"Excuse you."

He straightened his body to look at the direction he heard the yell and frowned when he saw a young woman standing a few steps away from him, her bag opened, and all her belongings on the floor. He followed her eyes and saw a young black-American man running away and understood that he probably pushed her causing her to drop her stuff. He promptly got on his feet and walked up to her. She raised her head when he leaned next to her and smiled. "May I help you?"

She raised her eyebrows and nodded, quickly getting back to picking up her stuff. He helped her as much as he could, gathering shoes, clothes and other items, in silence. They put everything back in the bag and tried to close it but the zipper broke making her cuss loudly. Amused, he lowered his eyes to look at her and finally notice how exotic she looked. She had a very soft chocolaty skin, that better reminded him of a milk-coffee with caramel latte, with long wavy black hair framing her face. She had a little dimple on her chin and her lips were full, although naked of any lipstick.

Forcing his eyes off her face, he picked the bag up and noticed that they had forgotten a red item that was hidden underneath it. The bag secured under his left arm he bent down to pick it up and twirled it around with his fingers. She quickly took it from him, hiding it behind her back, her cheeks turning slightly pink. He smiled again and walked up to where he was sitting down, putting the bag on the chair.

"I appreciate your help but I don't think it can be fixed." she said, standing next to him. He looked at the zipper again and nodded.

"You're probably right." he turned to her, fixing up his dark glasses that were balancing on his nose. "Maybe you can get a new one at a gift shop or something."

She nodded and quickly pushed her underwear inside the bag, hiding it under the other clothes. "Yeah. I might do that."

He looked at her again and ran his eyes on her. She was wearing black shorts that were showing two very toned and bronzed legs and a pink top with a deep cleavage. He blinked and forced himself to look at her face as she was talking again and not look at the laces of the white bra she was wearing.

"But I don't know if I'll have time for that..." her mouth came up to a small annoyed pout, her upper lip slightly curving and he found himself feeling amused. "My plane starts boarding very soon."

His mind made a quick calculation and he fixed the strap of his bag across his chest to give him more freedom of movement and looked at her.

"There's a bunch on terminal two. I can make it."

"What? That's on the other side of the bridge. There's no way…" she answered, looking at him like he was crazy.

But stopped talking when he pointed a finger at her and starting running. "Wait here."

He calculated the distance he had to make to know exactly at what speed he should run to cover the most ground possible while jumping over or swirling around the obstacles. Barely out of breath, he abruptly stopped in front of a store and screened the items with his eyes. Finding what he was looking for, he put the money on the counter, ignoring the protest of everyone standing in line, made sure the cashier saw the money and trekked his way back the same way.

He found her sitting at the same place and twitched his brows when she opened her mouth in surprise.

"I can't believe you made it."

He give her the bag and closed his eyes, getting inside his head to bring down the beating of his heart. He breathed in slowly and in less than just a minute, was able to breath normally.

"Yeah well, I'm a good runner." He answered, smiling at her.

"I'd say." she replied still agape, looking at him strangely. He chuckled nervously, balancing from one foot to the other and fixed a strand of his brown hair under the beanie.

"I think we better…"

"Oh right." she exclaimed, pulling out of her trance. He helped her put everything in the new bag and as soon as he closed it, they heard the hostess inviting the first class passengers to board the plane. She removed her ivory black hair off her face and smiled at him.

"That's my cue. Thank you so much." she gasped and quickly picked a purse from her bag balancing on her shoulder. "Oh my God I almost forgot to pay you back for the bag."

But he touched her hand and shook her hand. "No. Don't worry about it."

She stared at him, her head lightly titled on the right side. "No I can't. I have to pay you back."

"Just pass it forward, all right?" he laughed when her eyebrows furrowed, still not believing him. He bobbed his head to the gate's direction. "You better hurry."

"Yes." she nodded, grabbed her bag and started walking away. But she turned around and smiled timidly at him. "Thank you. Have a safe flight."

He watched her get in line and waited a few minutes before following her footsteps. She was just three people ahead of him and he wanted to let her know that they were sharing the same flight but refrained himself. The primary and main reason of this trip was to execute a job and he didn't want to loose his concentration. Business came first, then pleasure and he had a whole week in front of him to get pleased. But he couldn't help thinking that maybe the pleasure could have been even more enjoyable with her.

He smiled to the stewardess who giggled at him and followed her directions to his seat. He put his bag in the upper compartment and buckled his seat belt. He let his head go back and closed his eyes, trying not to watch the time as the rest of the plane was filling up. But his trained mind immediately was on the defensive and he started putting an id on the different types of voices he was hearing. There was a rich-snotty-skinny woman sitting behind him who was talking between her teeth to a little boy, telling him to stay quiet.

He could bet the stiffness of her face was for having live through too many Botox sessions. His ear shifted to a strident voice and the image of a big woman who was flying first class for the first time popped in his head. His ears went through the noise and made selections and he opened his eyes when they finally intercepted her voice. He looked in the direction he heard her and saw the top of her head, three rows ahead of him, on the other side of the plane. She was talking to the stewardess and he read her lips. She was asking for a pillow.

He smiled when another one approached him and he asked for a strong beverage. If he was going to spend the next ten hours locked in the air with these people, might as well have something to calm his nerves down. The stewardess gave him a mini bottle of rum and walked away. He brought it to his mouth while looking outside the window, letting the drink fill his bud tastes. Exhaling, he rested his head on the back of his chair and let himself rock by the sound of the engine of the plane taking off. His hands tapped nervously on his laps and he drank the rest of his beverage in one sip, feeling unease. He hated to be confined in one place like this, with no where to run to, for so many long hours.

He was somehow relived that the seat next to him was empty. At least he wouldn't have to deal with a noisy or annoying passenger. As soon as the seat belt light came off, he freed himself, taking a deep breath. His eyes caught a glance of the exotic woman leaving to go the restroom and he smiled, admiring her legs once again. He leaned his head on the back of his chair and closed his eyes again imagining what it would be like to spend his free week with her.

He heard the steps way before they reached him and raised his head to look at the stewardess walking up to him. He smiled making her blush lightly.

"Sorry sir. But the lady over there asked me to give you this." he tilted his head in the direction she was showing him and saw the same woman he was thinking about, smiling and waving her hand at him. He picked up the folded piece of paper from the stewardess, smiled at her to thank her and waited until she left to read it. The first thing that jumped in his mind was how firm and stylist her hand writing was. It showed how self-assure, determined and passionate she was. He shook his head to clear his mind from the automatic analysis and read the lines.

"Hello neighbor. Why didn't you tell me we were in the same flight?"

He looked for a pen inside his armrest and found one in the bag containing the magazines and scribbled his answer on the back of the piece of paper. He rolled it in his palm and threw it to have it land exactly next to her. She gave him a thumbs-up and leaned down to pick it up. She read it, pouted and tore another piece to write her answer. She threw it but it landed in the middle of the plane. He laughed and clapped his hands in silence to her, mocking her. She looked mortified and mouthed 'I'm sorry'. He stood up to pick it up and waited until he sat back down to read it.

"You practically saved my life today, you could never intrude."

He bobbed his head to her, smiling. She bit her lip and scribbled again. He followed the movement of her wrist while she was aiming and caught the paper before it reached the floor. This time she was the one clapping, a huge grin on her face.

"My name is Andryse by the way."

He hesitated a moment thinking about writing down his real name but decided to use the name on the passport he was using for the trip. He had learned a long time ago never to trust anybody and he intended on using his alias until he didn't need it anymore. She threw the paper again and he caught it one more time.

"Nice to meet you Mr. Denton. Do you know the sound of a tractor running through a corn field, Mr. Denton? Well, take a good listen at my close neighbor and you'll know what I'm talking about."

He laughed lightly and raised his eyes to look at her. She ran a finger under her neck and tilted her head on the side with her tongue sticking out, playing dead. He laughed again and without thinking, signed his answer to her. By the time he realized he had used his hands to speak, she had answered him back, her mouth opened wide. She turned halfway in her chair and asked him where he learned the sign language.

"I had to learn to talk to my mother." he signed back. "You?"

"Sorry about your mother. Me, I had to learn because I am working with children with special needs."

" I see." he simply answered.

At the moment a loud snoring disturbed the quietness of the sacred first class space and everybody turned to look at the direction of the man deeply sleeping next to Andryse. She covered her mouth with her hands to hide her laughter. He bobbed his head to the seat next to him and invited her to come join him. She refused at first telling him that she didn't want to impose but he insisted and another loud snore finally convinced her to move. He stood up, freeing the way and she sprawled herself on the chair next to the window.

"This is the second time you're saving me in one day, Mr. Denton. I owe you big time."

He chuckled and shook his head. "I didn't do anything special. I would have thrown him out the widow if it was me sitting next to him."

She giggled and laced her fingers on her legs. "Thrust me, at some point, my six inch shoes would have landed in his eyes and I would have had to go to jail. So, yeah, you saved me."

"Anything for a beautiful lady."

She looked at him, blushing and he realized that she had very shiny hazel eyes. He frowned when he felt his heart skip a beat. He breathed in slowly, trying to control the beating of his heart to bring it down, but became conscious of the pressure in his stomach. His instincts immediately rang the alarm in his head and told him to run. But wasn't it too late? He couldn't disappear at more than thirty thousands feet in the air. He swallowed and paid attention to what she was saying.

"What's bringing you to Haiti, Mr. Denton?"

"You can call me Joe." he answered, scratching his forehead. "Vacation."

"Nice." she let out, nodding. "It's rare nowadays to find someone willingly spending vacations in Haiti." she looked at curiously then added. "Specially alone."

"I've been told it has beautiful beaches and as I don't have any other type of commitment…" he licked his lips, feeling the pressure getting stronger. "How about you? Business or pleasure?"

She sighed and let her head fall back. "I wish. Some vacation would be nice right now. But nah. I live there." she got a glance of his surprised look and added. "It's a long story. My father is white, married my mom who is a black Haitian and although I was born in California, I grew up on the Island."

He nodded, understanding her skin complexion.

"Do you have any family there?" she asked again, her eyes locked on him, a light smile on her lips.

"No. I am staying at… Le Moulin Sur Mer?" he heard her giggle and quickly added, throwing his hands in the air. " I know, I know. I butchered it. Sorry."

She covered her mouth with her hand again. Normally, he would have probably found it annoying but somehow, with her, it was the cutest thing. "No, no.. actually that was pretty good. It's a really nice place. You're gonna love it."

Joe smiled and looked at the clouds that made the plane shake a little. He had no idea why he told her the real place he was staying at. The worst is that his instincts didn't come running this time. They were all non-existent like it was a normal thing for him to do. Although, deep down he had to admit that he would really like to see her again, but he wished that he wouldn't have to regret telling her. But come to think of it, it wouldn't be that easy for her to find him because he didn't use his real name nor the one he told her to make the room reservations anyway. So the chances of spending the week with her were pretty slim, unless… he tried to find her after taking care of business.

He lowered his eyes on her, debating the thought in his mind, when he saw her pulling out a planner from her purse and tear a piece of paper. She wrote down a number and gave it to him.

"Here's my cell phone number over there. If you need a tour guide... Beep me."

He put the paper in his back pocket after memorizing it with just one look.

"Thank you. I will."

She smiled and continued talking about the island where she grew up with eloquence and love, warning him about the places to avoid, the food not to taste, the con artists. The different activities to try and most importantly never to walk in the sun without good sunscreen protection and always, always dress lightly. He was smiling all through her stories and really felt hypnotized by her eyes. They would change from hazelnut to dark brown depending on the emotion she was going through and his heart was racing. Yeah, it would definitely call her.

They were interrupted by the stewardess who offered them their first lunch for the trip but that didn't stop their conversation. He was very careful at what he was saying, had to lie about his job and a couple of other stuff but, hell, that was part of the business. He had already lied about his real name, hadn't he?

In the middle of the night, around the 5th hour of the flight, she fell asleep, her head laid on a pillow caged against the window. His mind took advantage of her silence to analyze all the information he had gathered about her.

She was 23, the elder of four children and was at the verge of becoming the head of her father's business. He had a vast plant and was cultivating "Mandarines". A tropical fruit prone to be cultivated only in the Caribbean's soil because of the typical climate and was doing a fortune exporting them. She talked about her family with a lot of love and confessed feeling proud of gaining her father's confidence and being scared about disappointing him.

When she woke up, she was still smiling and decided that she was tired of sitting down for so long without having nothing to do. She pulled out a set of dominoes from her bag and challenged him into a game. He brought down the table attached to the back of the chair in front of him and two hours later, their laughs were so loud that everybody was looking at them with angry eyes, blame filling them. But it only made them laugh louder and harder. The trip went so much better than Joe had imagined at first and he even forgot about being trapped in the air for so long. For the whole time, he didn't even think about the whole sickening job he had to do.

After diner, she offered him to watch a movie with her but he gently declined seeing the movie title. She pouted, shrugged and watched the movie in silence, her big head phones partly hiding her face. He went trough his phone checking on his e-mail and frowned when he was suddenly reminded of the reason of his trip. He sighed when he realized that the moment he was having with her was reaching an end. But he had to get ready. He never failed and he couldn't afford to. His reputation depended on his success. He had to shake her off.

He excused himself to use the restroom and stayed a few more minutes than needed, trying to remove the comfortable feeling she infused him. When he came back, his face emotionless, he immediately lost composure again when he saw her blow into a tissue, big sobs pumping her chest. She removed her earphones when she saw his worried face and blew her nose again before talking to him, hiccuping.

"This is such a sad movie."

Joe frowned, dubious and raised his head to watch the screen but only the credits were slowly passing by. He looked at her again and she sniffled.

"She was married and had two children and he was a photographer and a free spirit. But they fell in love and he waited for her under the rain." she stopped to put the used napkin in a small plastic bag and took an other one to wipe her cheeks. "But she stayed because of her children and years later when he died, he sent her everything. The book he wrote telling their stories, all of his work, everything…" she took a deep breath and closed her eyes.

Joe had absolutely no idea what to do or say, having never experienced crying over a movie. So he waited for her to regain her composure. When she did, she laughed nervously and placed her hair behind her ears.

"You must think I'm a loony now."

He shook his head very slowly. "Not loony but right down crazy yes."

She gasped, offended and he laughed, putting his hand on top of hers. "Hey I'm kidding. I get it. I would have… probably… cried too if I watched it."

She smiled faintly. "No you wouldn't." she whispered, her eyes into his. "But it's nice of you to say that."

He never took his sunglasses off but somehow, he felt like she was looking right into his soul. He felt his heart pounding violently again and held his breath. He ran his eyes on her face and noted that her lips were shaking, partly opened. She was apparently as moved and confused as he was and he had no idea what to make of it. They both startled when they were asked if they needed anything before the plane landed and both answered negatively before Andryse whispered slowly.

"I didn't even realize the flight was already over." she looked at him again and added. "It's usually way longer than that." her voice was so much more grave and serious as if she was pondering on the fact.

He nodded, finding nothing to say and she turned around looking outside her window, a sad look on her face.

When they finally landed, he picked up their bags and they walked side by side up to the Haitian immigration room. In the middle of the agitation, his killing instincts came back full mode and he was back on track, impatient to get to work. Every passenger was out of the plane now and he immediately recognized the guy who had pushed Andryse back at LAX airport. He fixed his bag across his chest and held Andryse's hand, guiding her through the crowd.

"Where are we going?" she whispered, holding his arm. He didn't answer and stood behind the man.

He was at least six feet two and was wearing a tight t-shirt that was showing his muscles that were bulging at each movement he made. Joe stood behind him and tapped him on the shoulder. The huge man turned around and looked at Joe with a menacing look on his face.

"What the fuck do you want?" he shouted with a very strong accent.

A satisfied smirk crawled on Joe's lips, liking the challenge and talked with a very quiet voice. "I believe you owe this lady an apology for pushing her."

"What are you doing?" Andryse whispered, pulling his arm back.

The man looked at them curiously then walked closer to Joe. "Or what?"

"That's okay Joe. It's not important." Andryse whispered again, still pulling him back. But he winked imperceptibly at her and with one swift movement, he released his hand from hers and pressed his fingers underneath the man's left rib cage, pressing on the vital point, making his heart stop beating for a couple of seconds. Then he quickly pressed on the nerves running behind his neck to immobilize him completely. Everything went by at the speed of lightning and Joe quickly looked around him to make sure no one had noticed.

The man was standing still, his mouth and eyes wide open, incapable of moving or to talk. Joe put his hand around his neck like he would with a close friend and ordered him to keep breathing normally. He was wheezing and his chest was pulling up with big pumps. Smiling, Joe leaned closer to his ear, whispering with a very calm but menacing voice.

"I can kill you with my bare hands right now. And I would enjoy it. But I'm willing to make a deal. You apologize to the lady and I'll let you live, A'ight? If you agree, breath in."

The man let out a loud wheezing noise and Joe pressed on the back of his neck again. Andryse was standing a few feet away, her hands covering her mouth, surprise written in her face and her eyes. The man breathed in heavily, holding his chest, looking at them with fear and quickly apologized to her with a very throaty voice, but she just nodded, incapable of talking. Joe took her hand again and walked back to their spot in front of the conveyor belt. Andryse's mouth was still open and she was looking at him strangely. He gave her an embarrassed smile and fixed his sunglasses.

"I went to public school."

She looked even more confused and slowly nodded. He refrained from laughing and crossed his arms on his chest. He picked the bag she showed him before headed to the exit but she held him back and asked him if he wasn't waiting for his bags.

"I have everything I need in here." he answered, touching the beige bag across his body.

She opened her mouth to say something but closed it back, shaking her head. She followed him outside and hid behind him as the sun blinded her.

Joe's eyes went over the big crowd mostly made of taxi drivers and handlers, shouting to get the attention. Joe's eyes instantly saw his name writing on a small cardboard. He turned around to Andryse and smiled to her.

"I'm afraid we have to say goodbye."

She nodded and pointed to a man, standing next to a Black Range Rover across the street. "Yeah my ride is here anyway." she exhaled and took her bag from him. "Do you want me to drop you at Le Moulin sur mer?"

"No, thank you." he shook his head, still smiling. "I'll manage."

She nodded with sad eyes. "Have a good vacation." she whispered and walked away, pulling her bag after her. He watched her cross the street and hug the man who was waiting for her and waved back at her before she got in the car and drove away.

Only then he headed to the guy holding the cardboard and followed him to a small, dented red Honda and sat down. He was a very tall and buff dark-skinned male with a big afro. He waited until he was off the main road and on a little battered road before picking up a folder on the back of the seat and gave it to him. When he talked, he had a very light accent and was very succinct.

"Call me Max. I'll be your translator and your informer."

"Call me Joe." He answered as coldly as the man sitting next to him. He opened the folder and looked at a male Latin-American in his fifties. There was nothing else, just the picture. He studied every details of the face and listened to Max with a distracted ear.

"Everybody calls him Patron. Meaning boss. He is Colombian and the meanest motherfucker around. He is heartless and is not afraid to kill or spend a lot of dough to get his point across." He stopped talking to concentrate on keeping the car balancing on the shaky road and continued after a few minutes. "He owns many prostitution rings but they are just breadcrumbs compared to the main feast. He brings drugs here out from Colombia and from here, to Miami..

He glanced at Joe from the corner of his eyes and added. "No one had ever been able to bring him down until now. They say you're the best."

Joe didn't answer, his eyes still studying the picture, so he continued. "The prick always goes to Church on Sunday morning. The mass ends at noon. It is.." he looked at his silver watch. "Ten now. It gives you enough time to get settled and check on the equipment."

Joe closed the folder and looked up, mentally taking pictures of his environment. They arrived at a narrow street where an elegant Cathedral decorated with rubies and gold, took almost all the place. Max parked the car in the back of a house across the holy edifice and they went up to a small room.

Joe stepped in after Max and saw a big chair with an L96A1 sniper rifle standing in front of it, on top of a little table. Placing his bag on the floor against the big chair, he walked up to the window and lifted the drape to have a clear view of the entrance of the cathedral. Without any equipment, it was easy for him to see everything that was happening on the other side of the street, with the rifle, the job would be like a kid's game. Something in his mind replayed Max' voice saying that no one's ever had the chance to take him down before and he wondered why. But he didn't care and didn't want to linger on it. He would succeed. He never failed.

He went back to the rifle and took it from it's stand. He took it apart under a minute, with Max watching him. He put it back in place, making sure the chamber was free of anything. He took one 8.9 mm bullet from the box on the table and slid it inside. He pulled on the lever and heard the familiar clank telling him that the bullet was in place, ready to be fired.

"Just one?" Max asked, his eyebrows bucked.

"I never use more." He simply answered.

Max nodded and placed a walkie-talkie on the little table. "If you need anything. Go out where we came in."

"We never met."

Max turned around to look at Joe and nodded before closing the door after him. Joe went back to the window to check on all the elements and put his head outside to check on the wind. Perfect. Easy target. He went back the firearm and sat down, putting his right eye in the visor. He adjusted the canon exactly where he needed it and waited.

After a few minutes his mind wandered and he thought about the voluble woman he met in the plane. He smiled lightly, her phone number popping in front of his eyes. Maybe he'll call tomorrow.

He heard the bells of the Cathedral and his body stiffened, ready. The big door opened and a few people started walking out. His finger pressed gently on the trigger, steady. He was breathing slowly, his eye going through the different faces coming out and pressed harder on the trigger when he finally saw the one he needed.

But at the same moment, a black Range Rover stopped on the street and a woman dressed in a white flowery dress, ran outside and put her arms around his target's neck. Joe's heart missed a beat recognizing the dark hair and the body form. His finger trembled on the trigger and his jaw ticked when the woman turned around and he recognized the one he was just thinking about a minute ago.