Free Dead Birmingham by Timothy C. Phillips

 
    Then had come the end of the Cold War. German reunification. Old contacts had disappeared. Old rivalries had suddenly dried up. It was suddenly a new age. But there were still people who needed to die, it seemed. Now he killed for money, because he had to stay moving, both to find employers and to escape detection. Fortunately, his rarified skills demanded a high price. So that is what he did. He killed and moved, killed and moved. Always killing, always moving. It was all he knew, and he liked it, loved it, in fact; he was an artist and there was no other like him.
    He knew the way of thieves, because he had, after all, begun as a street urchin. Where there were small, valuable items, easy to steal, he knew he would find these children, his prey. He had found the perfect target. An electronics store was having a weekend sale. Items were actually placed outside the doors in large clearance bins. Very trusting. Also, very easy prey for young thieves, with quick hands and faster feet.
    He waited in a rental car for several hours, watching the store closely. He knew it was them the instant he saw them. Killer’s intuition. There were only two of them, however. There should have been five, still. But that mattered little. They would steal and flee to their den, and there he would find the rest of them. And the object that he was to recover would be there. Then he would kill them, and be on his way again.
    He inspected the pair carefully. A tall young black man and an Asian girl. Attractive young people. Particularly the girl. Her hair boasted a pink streak; her face was pierced in several places. She was quite beautiful. The young man wore a shirt open to his navel, and a chain of some kind around his neck. The girl, he noted, carried a gaudy, oversize handbag. Now that was a tad obvious, he thought.
    They were brazen. He watched as the young man selected items with a discerning eye, and the girl opened her bag for him. They were obviously lovers, the way they worked together, so close to each other. He wondered what it would be like to have such a wild, beautiful young girl beside you. He picked up a satchel that lay on the seat.
    Beautiful, yes. But soon she would be dead.
    He saw them exchange words and start to walk away from the bins. They were smiling at each other. Lovers they must be. Slowly, The Foreigner opened the door of the car.

 
    Chapter 16
    Â 
    â€œOne more, Yim.”
    â€œMake it quick, we’re getting hot.”
    These people had to be crazy, Bone decided. Bins full of computer software and electronic gadgets outside with no one to watch them? Not even a camera?  
    â€œOkay, let’s roll.”
    They turned and casually started walking toward the corner of the building.
    â€œWhen we get to the corner, take off, you know where to meet me.”
    â€œSee you there, sexy.”
    Bone shot a glance behind them, and did a double-take.
    â€œNow what the . . . ?” There was a man, nonchalantly strolling along behind them. He was extremely pale, and dressed in an expensive black suit. Looked like Bela Lugosi, Bone thought. He had an air about him that was disturbing, even at a distance, and he was carrying something.
    â€œShit. I think we got a store cop on us. Some white cat in a black suit. Motherfucker looks like a vampire,” he said in a rapid whisper.
    â€œGreat. Now what?” They had come to the corner.
    â€œStick to what we always do. I’ll see you in a while. Go to the meeting place we talked about. I’ll lose this fucker. You got the goods. Take off.” They had planned the getaway. Yim would cut through the overgrown lot behind the store and make her way to a pre-arranged meeting place before heading to the fence’s place. Meanwhile, Bone would remain obvious and draw off any pursuers. After all, he had nothing on him, if the cops stopped him.
    Yim broke into a run at the edge of the building, and Bone turned to confront the man.  
    He