*Magnify*
SPONSORED LINKS
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/719168-The-Contract
Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Drama · #719168
Prologue- three unique assassins hired to take out vigilante
Kyle Seals Chronicles
Prologue: The Contract

Las Vegas. Late evening. They call this city many different names. Sin city. America’s playground. And while these names are very true for many different people, for one man it’s called one thing. Business. This mans name is Victor Slate. In the eyes of the population this man is a well respected citizen, a very public figure that the people love very much. And that is exactly what he wants them to think. For a well respected person is never thought of as an international crime lord. What people do not see is his secret dealings all over the world. Dealings which bring him profit and more importantly power. But all to often this power comes with a price. Innocent lives.

But this night he is frustrated. For too long he has been hounded by a man. A man who Victor, despite all his power, knows very little about, except that at every opportunity, has disrupted his plans, time and time again. It seems that this man answers to know authority, and works for no known agency, but seems to always know how to ruin Victors dealings on numerous occasions. Victor has sent out swarms of men to eliminate him, set multiple traps, and even bribe the police into bringing him in, but to no avail.

Desperate to bring this situation under his control once more, Slate has called a meeting. He realized that this man cannot be dealt with by normal means, so he has contacted several people who are trained for extreme situations.

At one of Victors hotel and casino, a car pulls up to the front entrance. People stop and look at this car because of it’s unfamiliar design. It is long and sleek, black and shiny. It’s windows are tinted and the doors open the opposite way. The car comes to a stop, it’s engine roaring. A valet walks up to the car as the passenger and driver doors open. Emerging from within the car are a man and a woman. The man has black hair, styled and comes past his ears. He is clean shaven and dressed in a casual suit, jacket, buttoned up shirt with no tie. The woman is shorter, with brown hair pulled up onto her head, wearing business attire. With long sleeved white shirt and black jacket, a black mini-skirt and high heels that accentuate her shapely legs, and completing the outfit with a pair of small glasses, barely hiding her beautiful yet serious face.

The man takes off his tinted glasses and flashes a smile to the crowd as the valet walks up to him.

“Valet for you tonight sir?” the young man asks nervously, but the woman steps in front of him, blocking his path to the car.

“Not tonight,” the dark haired man says, still smiling, “my assistant will look after my car. Just inform Mr. Slate that Mr. Blair has arrived.” The young man suddenly realizes who this person is.

“Yes sir, Mr. Blair. Right this way.”
Blair nods to the woman he arrived with and she immediately gets into the driver side of the car, closes the door, and screeches off loudly. Blair follows the young man who leads him to an elevator that is located in a private section of the casino.

“This elevator will take you to Mr. Slates’ office.” The young man tells him, and Blair walks in, handing the young man a fifty dollar bill as he passes. The elevator closes and starts to advance. Blair stands in front of the doors with his hands crossed in front of him. The elevator comes to a stop about halfway up and the door opens. Standing on the other side is a woman. The woman is covered in a long coat ,with a hood flung over her head. She says nothing as she enters the elevator, giving no reaction to Blair’s presence. Blair looks at her with confusion and intrigue.

“Are you meeting Slate as well?” he asks, but the woman still gives no response. The rest of the journey is spent in silence until the elevator stops at its destination. The woman immediately exits and Blair follows. They walk into a large office, with many paintings and expensive statues. There are three chairs sitting in front of a very large desk, where Victor Slate is seated.

“Ah, you’ve arrived,” Slate says and motions to the chairs, “please have a seat. We shall begin soon.” The woman walks right to the chairs and sits down. Blair walks slower and more casually as he surveys the surroundings.

“I’ve gotta hand it to you Slate, you sure know how to live.”

“I have found that luxuries are more enjoyable when you are frequently reminded of them.” Slate says as Blair sits down. The woman removes her hood, and her long blonde hair falls out, dangling in front of her face, but hardly hiding her sharp features.

“So, what is this all about?” Blair asks, but Slate just smiles and raises his hand.

“I am sorry,” he says, “but we are still waiting for one more person to arrive.” And with that said the door to the office swings open, revealing a dark and menacing figure in the entrance. Blair looks up trying to make out his appearance, but is having trouble do to the dark lighting. The figure begins to approach them, slowly walking into the light, revealing more and more of himself. The man is dressed in a long black coat, falling very nearly to the floor, it is tied around his waist and tight against his upper body. He wears black gloves and his head is painted jet black, including his neck, ears and spiked hair. His face is painted white, in the shape of some sort of skull, yet his eyes are entirely black as well.

“You have requested my presence?” the dark figure asks in a deep yet smooth voice.

“I did, yes,” Slate replies as the figure walks up to them but remains standing, “I have called you all here to help me deal with a little problem.”

“You know my services do not come cheap.” Blair tells him as he sits in his chair, fingers pressed together.

“I am well aware of that,” Slate says and snaps his fingers. Three men in suits come walking in each carrying three briefcases. They set them down in front of each person and opens them, revealing stacks of cash within. “That is why I am offering five million dollars, up front to each of you. With an additional twenty-five million waiting for the first person to bring me the head of a certain individual. Use any resources available to you.”

Blair is the only one to give a reaction at the money being offered for the elimination of one man, and a faint smile plays across his lips.

“What’s the time table?” Blair asks curious.

“Immediately.”

“Who’s the target?”

Slate grabs a remote and points to a large screen. With the press of a button it turns on, revealing the target.

“This man. His name is Kyle Seals.” Slate tells them. With the mention of the name, Blair sits forward, his smile disappearing. The dark figures white face turns to a scowl, and the woman raises an eyebrow, the only hint of emotion that she has shown.

“I see you have heard of him,” Slate says curiously, given their reactions.

“Kyle Seals?” Blair asks, “you want us to kill Kyle Seals?”

“Is that a problem?” Slate asks Blair with a raised eyebrow.

“Kyle Seals is just no ordinary target.” Blair explains to Slate.

“He is believed to be unkillable,” the dark figure adds, tilting his head slightly to his right, “many have tried, ALL have failed.”

“And it’s just not him you have to deal with either,” Blair says, “he apparently leads a team that specializes in superhuman activity.”

“He knows the solution in any problem, knows the escape to any trap. It is said he knows what you are going to do before you even think it.” The dark figure explains, although a little over dramatic.

“That is why I have called upon each of you,” Slate says standing up, becoming increasingly agitated, “you are not ordinary mercenaries. You each specialize in extreme situations. Now I want him dead! I don’t care how it’s done, or what it costs! I’ll double the price, just kill him!” They all just sit in silence, pondering the offer. Slate darts his head back and forth looking at all three of them. “Well?!”

“It’s going to take a little time,” Blair explains, “you can’t just walk up to him and put a gun to his head. His HQ is a fortress, no one and no bomb is going to be able to get in that place. We’ll have to draw him out, make him come to us.”

“It is said he has dealings with a vampire,” the dark figure says.

“That’s right, combine that with whoever else is working for him, and you have an unstoppable force.” Blair says, running his hands through his hair. “We need to discover his weakness. Once we figure what that is, we should be able to exploit it. And given his reputation, the only thing that I can think of is...”

“Love.” The woman suddenly says and looks over to Blair, her eyes half closed. Blair smiles, realizing what she means.

“The girl,” Blair confirms, “take away his safety net, and he’s vulnerable.” The woman gives no reply, but looks back at Slate.

“Whatever it takes,” Slate says, “just get it done. You have one week before I put the word out on the street.”

“We’re going to destroy a legend...” Blair says to himself and looks to both of his companions, “it’s going to be one hell of a ride.”


To Be Continued....
© Copyright 2003 nortonman (kyleseals at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/719168-The-Contract