The Prologue...

I sat across the table rubbernecking at the couple that had strolled into the Cafe; to everyone who cared to watch, the lady was deep in love while the gentleman seemed just a knee in. He appeared not to pay attention to what she was saying but afforded an occasional laugh to keep her going. He had a lot on his mind and time was no longer his ally. The lady was elegantly dressed, a blue dress top; vogue they called it, black leggings and a cream sweater,and for the cold weather; the scarf sufficed. Temperatures were dropping by the hour and a few days later winter would be knocking at our doors. The ring on her finger was definitely aesthetic; to match her jewelry and the watch on her arm, it must have been bought for her as a gesture of his “love”.

Dressed in a white polo shirt tucked into white khaki pants with a white kangaroo cape and white moccasins; the young seemingly corporate and averagely tall gentleman strolled majestically with his lady, arm in arm, across the cafe. He had been playing golf in the earlier stretch of the day with his workmates from one of the top investment firms in the country, something many young men would die to have at such an early age. His ‘3-40’ 4 wheel drive auto transmission range rover evoque parked across the street complemented his guise and probably any lies he had told the lady. The lies were however coming to an end and it was time to have him complete the task he had been tasked to do.

A decade ago, Donald had graduated top of his class at The Academy. Having aced all the modules to set the third best record ever at the CMD Academy, no obstacle stood in his way. Given he was an outstanding performer in the field, he had been handpicked by the head of covert operations to watch over the daughter of the President, an opportunity he had turned down. He had opted to get rid of the threat rather than play nanny to the P.D. The term “nanny to the P.D” had been coined by an agent who felt he was being unappreciated by offering him that role forty four years ago, he was long gone but the phrase had caught on.

Klein had on the other hand been adopted at early age and trained by her “father” a rogue assassin. Her unprecedented record 13 head shots were exceptional, 1 bullet, 1 body was the code she lived by,and she had never missed. She had trained with various academies, been contracted by different companies and her price was highest of all assassins to have lived. Her next assignment was the president’s daughter.  She was to pull the trigger, Kund, a former war lord and now a criminal master mind was to call the shot. The resources she had at her disposal were unlimited; all she awaited was the instruction. Donald was to see to it that he got to her before she did get to the president’s daughter. However, he still had a lot of information to gather before executing his mission. “Keep your enemies closer” was the approach he was using and now he was in bed with the villain.

Having affirmed the table where the couple was seated and a thorough survey of the restaurant for any other potential members of the criminal gang turning out negative, I resumed reading my newspapers. The article about the speaker of parliament who had pardoned himself and a few other ministers of corruption charges while standing in for a traveling president did capture my attention. I missed the dictatorial days, none of this nonsense would be happening, systems were in place and they worked, the continued out cry for human rights by organizations and humanitarians was root of such deeds. The papers were characterized by a lot of baloney, a waste of any ones time if you asked me.

My job here was to remind Donald that he had a task to complete and the time was now, he had to take out Klein and failure to do so would necessitate me taking both of them out. I for one knew how the system worked, if he failed and I failed, there was someone assigned to make all happen. If there was a person best placed to deliver the final task, Dave (also known as the ghost) would be around watching our every move. We called him the ghost because of the stealth with which he executed his missions, we had never seen him and yet his reputations preceded him. Having slit a man’s throne in the presence of 11 agents and no one realizing this till the man had fallen to the floor dead without saying a word or making a gesture, he had made his mark. This was seventeen years ago, and the scene was still clear in my mind. Our best chance at life was therefore wiping Klein off the face of the earth. Dave had the best record at The Academy, I had the second, and Donald had the third, I had learnt this a few weeks ago because of the nature of the task I was being assigned, messing up this wasn’t part of my plans.

The writer of this article prefers to remain anonymous.