Free Raymond Benson - 2012 - Hitman: Damnation by Raymond Benson Page A

you. We don’t need the verification, but you could
prove to yourself that you’re, as you call it, one hundred percent operational.
And don’t you want to get back at Burnwood ? She
abandoned you, left you like a piece of meat for dogs to devour.”
                 The
assassin didn’t know what to think about Diana. All the facts weren’t in. But
Travis was right. If she had indeed intentionally caused the Himalayan task to
fail, then she deserved every bit of his … attention.
                 “What’s
the assignment?” he asked.
                 Travis
stood. “It may very well be the most difficult mission of your career. Consider
it a challenge. But why don’t you rest for a day? We can talk about it
tomorrow. It can wait that long.” He pointed to two different call buttons on
47’s bed. “If you need anything, press one of those buttons. The red one is for
the nurse. The blue one is for us.”
                 “Where
are my things? Did you recover my briefcase?”
                 Travis
grinned. “It’s unbelievable, 47. Even in your unconscious state, being tossed
around like flotsam on that rough sea, you held on to that damned briefcase. We
have it.” He nodded to a locker on the other side of the cabin. “It’s all
there. Your clothes, everything. We dry-cleaned your
suit. It’s fresh and like new, hanging right in there. We opened the briefcase
to check on your weapons, and they’re fine. You’ll want to clean them, oil
them, do all the things you do to get them back to shipshape condition, but,
miraculously, all of your stuff survived with you. You’re one in a million, 47.
The Agency will be very grateful, and make it worth your while, if you decide
to rejoin us.”
                 With
that, the man jerked his head at Jade, and the two left the room.
                 47
waited a few minutes and then threw back the sheets. He swung his legs around
and put his bare feet on the floor. He grabbed the IV pole, which was on
wheels, and dragged it across the floor as he unsteadily walked to the locker.
He opened it, revealing the black suit hanging in pristine condition. The
briefcase sat on the locker bottom. 47 pulled it out and took it back to the
bed. He opened it, examined the two Silverballers ,
and then felt for the hidden latch that unlocked the hidden compartment beneath
the handguns. His various passports, currency from several countries, and Fiberwire were all there.
                 As well as his painkillers.
                 47
opened the pill bottle, took two tablets, and downed them with the remains of
his juice.
                 He
carefully put everything in place, shut the case in the locker, and went back
to bed.
                 Sleep
came quickly. The figure of Death mercifully stayed away.
                 EIGHT
                 The
night passed peacefully, and Agent 47 slept better than he had in months.
Perhaps the gentle rocking of the ship helped. By the middle of the second day
on the ship, he felt rejuvenated. Travis sent word that they would have dinner
together and talk that evening—in the meantime, he was
to feel free to make himself at home aboard the Jean Danjou II.
                 Although
he was a man of fierce independence, 47 allowed Nurse Parkins to pamper him. It
was gratifying to be waited upon. Both Parkins and Dr. Chalmers quickly learned
that the assassin spoke very little, so they gave up attempting to engage him
in conversation. They did, however, encourage him to get out of bed, dress, and
take walks.
                 The
yacht was huge. 47 strolled the deck from bow to stern and back, then explored the ship’s bowels. No guards prevented him
from entering any restricted areas. He spent time in the control center,
observing the various operations and personnel. The hitman figured Travis was attempting to instill