19 - Fixing the problem

Mister Stone lit his sixth cigarette, brought it to his lips, took a long drag, and inhaled the smoke into his lungs. The woman said she'd be there at nine-thirty. It was already a quarter to ten. He exhaled, filling the air in front of him with a cloud of smoke. She'd better show up fast. He wasn't a patient man. And he was now determined to make her pay twice for whatever it was that she wanted.

'Mister Stone, I presume?' a female voice asked. He turned around to see a woman standing behind him. She wore sunglasses, a large hat, and a scarf that went up to her nose.

Stone studied the woman's appearance as took another drag from his cigarette, then blew a puff of smoke in the woman's direction.

'You sure don't want to be recognized, lady,' he grumbled.

She handed him a manila envelope.

'Let's get to business,' she said, disgust obvious in her voice.

Stone weighed the envelope in one hand, then took another drag from his cigarette.

'You're late,' he said.

'Don't worry, mister Stone,' she said, and he imagined she couldn't be older than 30. 'I'll make it worth your time.'

Stone gave an unconvinced snort, but tossed his cigarette on the ground, opened the envelope, and pulled out the contents.

'I know you have a very talented boy,' the woman said. 'Just what I need for the job.'

'It's a lot of work, lady,' said Stone, reading the first sheet of paper. 'And it would mean a lot of changes for my boy.'

'He's been there before, maybe he won't mind going back,' she said. 'And he's reached a dead end now, anywhere would be better than this place. You should see the opportunity, mister Stone.'

'You seem to know a lot about him,' said Stone, looking straight at her, trying to notice something, anything, a trait that could help him pinpoint the woman's identity. He found nothing.

'I know a lot about you, too,' she said boldly. 'Not that I want that to put a strain on our business relationship,' she added.

'Myes,' grumbled the man, suddenly feeling somewhat uneasy. The feeling was so foreign to him, it frightened him more than whatever might have caused it. He hoped he'd be able to cover it well enough until the woman left, then he'd have his best trackers on her tail. Flipping through the papers, he found a photo. 'This is the target?'

'Yes.'

'How old is she?'

'Seventeen.'

Stone looked at the photo for a little while. This certainly was new, they'd never had such young targets.

'It's a shame,' he said.

'That doesn't concern you,' replied the woman dryly.

'Is she some somebody's daughter?' Stone asked. 'Someone you want to get something out of?'

'No,' she said. 'I just want her dead.'

'Why?'

'It's none of your business, mister Stone.'

'It is if you want my boy to do your dirty work, lady,' he said, managing to sound menacingly. 'We don't run around the globe killing little girls for a living.'

'I believe there's a first for everything, mister Stone.'

'And there's a reason for everything as well, lady. This isn't your average murder. Tell me why, or I drop this thing right now.'

The wind howled around them for a little while, and Stone felt a chill creep into his bones.

'She poses a threat to the ones I love, to put it simply,' said the woman eventually.

Stone raised his eyebrows.

'How can a seventeen year-old-'

'I gave you the reason, mister Stone,' she said coldly.

He stared at her, then shook his head.

'Fine,' he said. 'But the costs of this,' he waved the papers in front of her for emphasis, 'of all this, are on you, in addition to the fee.'

'One million dollars should cover everything, if I am not mistaken,' she said carelessly.

Stone froze. What kind of a person was he talking to? A woman willing to pay this much to have a seventeen year-old girl killed troubled him to no end. He had seen many ugly things in his career, but none of them had been as extreme as this. If the reason given to him by the woman was the real one, then he felt sorry for the target. That was no way for a child to die.

'Who knew murderers had feelings?' she said mockingly, noticing his hesitation.

'In front of monsters, even murderers have feelings,' he retorted.

The woman held out a gloved hand, and he shook it.

'You're no better than me, mister Stone,' she said, and he could tell she was smiling. 'I will transfer half of the money now, and half after the job is done.'

Stone cleared his throat.

'How do you want it done?'

'Surest way. Bullet through the head,' said the woman. 'Fate's been on her side so far, and I don't want to take any chances. Not for what I'm risking to get this done.'

'I see. How do I contact you?'

'Oh, I will contact you, mister Stone,' she said, and there was a malicious edge to her voice. 'I will be eagerly watching the progress of this operation. Until we meet again, mister Stone.'

She turned around and walked away. Stone wondered if he imagined the spring in her step. He shook his head, and tried to stop feeling bad for the girl. No. Target. She was a target, like many others before her, and like the many more who would follow. He dialed a number, and waited for the person on the other end to pick up.

'Yes?'

'Start packing, you're going to the US.'