Free Crimes Against Magic by Steve McHugh Page A

day before the job was due to take place, I caught a train to Waterloo station in London. I called on the way to book a hotel room near Canary Wharf, where the target worked.   
    I got out of the subway at Canary Wharf and a freezing cold wind was blowing through the area, coming off the nearby river with a vengeance. It made me immediately glad I'd worn a thick hooded top, as well as my black jacket that covered down to my thighs. It wasn't exactly executive dress. But even amongst the throng of people all wearing expensive suits and coats, I didn't stand out too badly, mostly, thanks to the nearby shopping centre, Jubilee Place, which was always busy with families and people off work for the day.
    I'd been to Canary Wharf a few times, usually on business. The mass of glass and metal sky scrapers along with One Canada Square, the tallest building in the UK, looming over them all as it touches the sky, never ceased to amaze, especially at night, when the lights from the buildings illuminate everything around them.
    I walked into the lobby of the hotel I'd used to reserve my room for the night. After getting my room's cardkey, and making a point of stating that I would carry my own bag, I made my way up in the lift. 
    My room was everything I'd paid for and more. It was massive, with an enormous king size bed, large bathroom and lounge area with flat screen TV. A balcony overlooked the nearby park, and the huge windows spread down one side of the room turned a nice view into an unforgettable one. 
    My backpack contained my outfit for the job, so I hid it under the bed. I'd rather not have some random cleaner finding it and discovering dark clothes and a balaclava. When ready, I left the hotel, making my way into the heart of Canary Wharf toward the forty-two-story monstrosity containing my target.
    Daniel Hayes was forty-nine and a success in everything he'd done. He'd graduated with a first in economics from Leeds University, his home town, and immediately moved down to London. He'd never married, but had an eleven-year-old daughter, although I had no information on her mother. My employers for the current job were Lionshead Pharmaceuticals, a company I’d never worked for before. They’d employed Daniel six years ago, and he swiftly rose in the ranks. 
    All of which made me wonder why he would leave. He'd made six figures plus a bonus at Lionshead. Although, as I'd learnt time and time again, people always want more. It was also strange that Daniel left a pharmaceutical company to work for Mars Warfare, a military weapons designer. 
    After taking a seat on a bench outside the massive structure, I removed a book from my backpack and feigned reading as I watched through the windows surrounding the entire ground floor. I made mental notes of the number of guards inside. I was going to bring a note pad and pen, but that would have been far too obvious. The guards moved in twos. Four pairs in all, each guard carried a submachine gun and a holstered pistol. Employees and visitors moved around them with little fuss or concern, apparently accustomed to their armed protectors. 
    Two women sat behind a large reception desk opposite the three massive turnstile doors, and across an expansive lobby. They were probably mild-mannered receptionists, but they appeared more akin to someone you'd meet in the dead of night with a large knife. 
    Pictures of weapons—ranging from rifles and knives, to tanks, adorned every cream coloured wall. And the company's logo, the planet Mars with a sword and shield in front of it, had been painted onto the white tiled floor directly in front of the reception area. 
    After a few minutes of covertly scanning the building and its inhabitants, it became apparent that the bruiser-like receptionists had taken to watching me a little more intently than I'd have liked.
    I glanced around, as if looking for someone I was waiting for, and spotted a beautiful, curly-haired redhead nearby. She wore a dark