Cry Assassin

Free Cry Assassin by Loki Renard

Book: Cry Assassin by Loki Renard Read Free Book Online
Authors: Loki Renard
Chapter One
     
     
    'In blood and battles was my youth,
    And full of blood and battles is my age,
    And I shall never end this life of blood'
    -Sohrab and Rustum
     
     
    Kirk strode down the sidewalk, a predator amongst the people who streamed by him lost in their own existences. To most he was a man unseen, perhaps noticed for a moment, appraised favorably for his broad shoulders and long legs, and then forgotten just as promptly. His footsteps fell with a thousand other footsteps on the busy city streets as he strode towards his destination. A slight breeze caught the tip of his silk tie, but left the close-cropped, thick, black hair on his head untouched. His face was pleasant, but not model handsome. It was the sort of face that always seemed familiar. If shown a picture of him, most people would say that they'd seen him recently, perhaps in a hardware store shopping for nails, perhaps assisting customers at the self-checkout in a supermarket. If one questioned the general public, he was everywhere. He was a taxi driver, a bank manager, that guy who'd taken their parking space the other day. He was their kid's swim coach, their ex-wife's new boyfriend. In truth, he was none of these things. He was no-one to anyone and that was just the way he liked it.
    As he walked amongst the bustling crowds, the black rimmed pupils of his granite gray eyes, the parts of his body that most often drew undivided attention and remained truly memorable to even casual observers, were hidden behind dark, wire framed sunglasses. In his thirty-five years on the planet, Kirk had seen more than most men would see in their entire lifetimes. He'd certainly seen more than any sane man would wish to see. When he looked at someone, truly looked at them with the weight of his past behind him, he was not so easily forgotten. People reacted to him the way a mouse reacts to a hawk. They cowered, sometimes they shook visibly. If they were men, they would occasionally grow violent simply because of the hard threat that lived in his gaze. He'd learned to keep his eyes hidden; with sunglasses on he was almost invisible.
    His destination was an office building like any other. Concrete slab pillars guarded the lobby, the silent guardians of a new age. Bored workers buzzed around the entrance like bees at a hive. They had no idea that the handsome man in the expensive, well-tailored business suit was anyone other than another client. With assured authority, Kirk ignored the receptionist's saccharine greeting and stepped into the shiny, steel elevator that smelled of cleaning chemicals and sweat. He pressed the door close button without waiting to see if anyone else wanted the elevator, and pressed the button for the basement. The interface buzzed harshly, requesting the code needed to access that level. He punched it in with a callused thumb then stood to the side as the elevator began to descend.
    The basement level was filled with rows of shelves stacked with moldering boxes. He frowned, immediately disliking the layout. It was impossible to see what, or who, was lurking in the narrow rows and he was forced to proceed cautiously towards the back of the basement, where a small flickering of fluorescent light between blinds called to him. Behind every row of shelves there could be a surprise waiting for him, and in Kirk's line of business, surprises were never a good thing. Never.
    The basement turned out to be empty, as he'd been promised it would be, and he made it to the far door without incident. Turning the metal handle, he stepped into the shabby subterranean office. It was a mess. Old, damp carpet curled up at the edges and the musty stench that pervaded the entire basement was much stronger here.
    Four figures occupied the room. At the back were two skin-headed men in oversized jackets, with vicious expressions on their faces. They nodded to him wordlessly. No exchange of meaningless pleasantries was necessary. This was business and everyone knew why

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