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34. Messiah

"Alright," I say, sitting down at my desk and opening my computer.

"Alright?"

The morning had gone by slow, but I knew that we had to figure out a way to get the last of these fucks. I still needed to know what Angel had planned and what she already knew about our future victims.

"I need to know what you know about these guys," I explain, tapping the computer awake. "Is it just the two left?"

"Three," she answers.

"Three?" I whirl around in my seat to face her.

Damn, she is so fucking cute wearing my t-shirts. Her legs are crossed as she sits on the couch, a cup of coffee clutched between her hands. Her dark hair isn't brushed and it falls around her face in wavy rivulets that make her eyes glow. She is too fucking beautiful.

"There was . . . the cameraman," she tells me. "I haven't been able to find out who he is."

I nod, tapping my finger on the desk. I could maybe figure it out. If I sent the videos to a ghost and had them find whatever they could about the account it was posted from, it may help us. But I don't want to send those videos to anyone. I don't think I have the stomach to even review them myself.

"Do you know what he looked like?"

"Basic white guy." Her shoulders slump as she looks out the window. "Dark hair. Beard. I don't remember anything special about him."

Well, that is going to be tricky.

"I am going to have the video wiped," I explain, reaching back to pull my laptop onto my knees.

"You can do that?" A spark of hope flickers in her eyes.

"Yeah. Working for my boss gives me special privileges," I smile.

We work for a while talking through what we both know about the victims. Joe and Brutus are going to be easy for me to get. Since they are down the totem pole from Charles, I only need to grab them for the kill.

"Now," I say, rubbing my eyes as I turn away from my computer screen. "Are we going in, one two and done, or are we going to take them out like the others?"

Her lip presses between her teeth as she thinks. Her eyes glow in the light coming in through the windows. The wind has been blowing all day and whistling through the worn frames around the glass. Storm must be coming.

"Like the others," she answers. "That was always the plan."

I nod, the corners of my lip quirking up.

I am more of an in and out type killer. By the time the command comes to me, the victim has usually already been found guilty for whatever Charles deemed was worth killing him for. But before I was given more free reign, I worked under another of Charles's men who was much more skilled at getting people to confess their crimes before getting a bullet through their skull.

I haven't talked to the fucker in over a year, but it only takes one phone call for me to figure out where he is hiding. Angel is hesitant when I tell her we are leaving the apartment, and it hurts that she still thinks I am planning to do something to her.

"He has a soft spot for chicks," I tell her. "The guy we are seeing. He can also lead us to a place to do it all without interruption."

"So you want me to like–"

"Ain"t' got to flirt with him or anything," I assure her. "But you ask him nicely, I am pretty sure he will listen."

"He is another assassin?" she asks, her fists tight in front of her.

"Yeah," I say. "Don't worry. He isn't going to hurt you. If he wants anything for the trouble, I'll pay him."

I step closer to her, her head tilting up to stay on my eyes as I brush my thumb along her chin.

"I just need my Angel to give one of those pretty smiles."

"You got mad last time I smiled at someone."

"Not this time," I assure her. "Different circumstances. Even you can fake a smile for a job, right?"

She nods, crossing her arms over her chest. "What is his name?"

"Kasper."

Kasper Corsone is the assassin that trained me. He keeps a low profile like I do and is only ever really seen when he has to be. Like me, he worked his way up through the mob until he got to where he is today. When Charles deemed me worthy enough for a promotion, he had me work beside Kasper for a year before I was set out on my own. Now, I handle most of the work inside the city limits, and Kasper keeps an eye on the towns around Chicago.

I recognize him almost immediately as we park the car and step out. His tall frame stands a head above most of the other people wandering around. His hands are tucked into the pockets of his leather jacket, and I am sure he has one of them wrapped around a gun. The wind is picking up and the fucking air stings my face as it brushes against me. I tuck Angel against my side, hoping to shield her from the more harsh effects of the weather. Kasper gives a nod as we approach him. We are meeting in a park not too far from where Angel tried to attack Joe. It is the kind of place cops pretend not to see and where a random meeting between two people won't be heavily scrutinized.

He flicks his cigarette out as I step toward him. Angel peeks out from the heavy leather jacket I put on her. It is about two sizes too big, but the fleece lining should keep her warm.

"What's up fucker?" he asks, his mouth cocking into a smile. He nods his head toward Angel. "Who is that?"

"My girl," I tell him. "Angel."

"Angel? Is that really your name?"

"Yeah." Her meek voice is almost drowned out through the fleece collar wrapped around her mouth.

"Angel and Messiah. Interesting pair. What do you want?"

We walk around the park's path as we talk, both of our eyes glancing around for any eavesdroppers or heat that might be in the area.

"I didn't think torture was really your style," Kasper notes.

He pulls a cigarette from his pocket and lights it, taking a long drag as his eyes turn down to Angel. While we have talked, she stayed pressed against my side, her eyes darting around to keep tabs on everyone in the area.

"What the lady wants the lady gets," I tell Kasper.

"And why does the lady want to fuck people up?" His brow cocks as he stops his walking and turns to Angel.

"My reasons," she snaps.

Her attitude makes us both smile, and he brings his cigarette to his lips as he looks around and thinks for a moment.

"Alright," he says. "Charles owns a storage facility down on fifty-ninth near the tracks. It is where his drugs come in and out of the city before dispersion. Now, there are six guys there keeping watch on things. You make too much noise and they are going to get you out."

"Nah, my girl knows how to stay under the radar."

"Right," he answers slowly. "I'll call Tony and he will call you. You can use the space, but you have to clean up your own mess. As you can guess, since it is Charles's base of distribution in the city, he isn't going to be very kind about you fucking it up. He will also hear that you are there."

"He knows I am working on a case."

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