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From my rotting body, flowers shall grow, and I am in them, and that is eternity.- Edvard Munch Death. The Grim Reaper had put his mark on society. Humankind still suffered from The Great Pandemic of COVID-19 four hundred and fifteen years ago. The GeePee, as it was called, had brought death and destruction and suffering throughout the world for five years without ever finding a cure or a vaccine. In 2026 it suddenly vanished from the earth, leaving behind its population lost and devastated, and decimated by a third. Scientists now believed it was Nature’s answer to so many bad decisions men made through the years. Folklore told people it was Mother Earth who was fed up with her children who didn’t want to listen to all her previous warnings. Like with kids who were to blame for bad things, she found her way of dealing with silly brats in an overwhelmingly clear message. 4 billion people got sick and died because of the virus in less than half a decade. Oh, the mourning, the pain, the fear, and devastation! It had set back Earth’s pathway for hundreds of years. People were strong, of course, so building a new society with new rules followed quickly. They had to reinvent themselves, governments had to readjust, and globally they chose not for democracy but a form of dictatorship, Saudi style. With the head of state and its closest circle fully in charge, surrounded by a strong army and police force controlling the citizens. In that process, the rich became richer, and the poor became poorer. The World was cold, dark, chaotic, and unfriendly for ordinary folks. Cuin, The Black Justien, was a product of his time. He was born into money and had chosen his current profession years ago after a 6-years career in law enforcement. He had been raised an amoral merciless killer with no consciousness in the body of a 60-year old friendly dandy. His cover was impeccable, and nobody suspected his gruesome job. His study was a batman cave in which a large iron desk with a desktop computer, state of the art, surrounded by bookshelves with hundreds of books and attached to the wall a large plateau of two by two with charts, photos, maps, and sticky notes of his assignments. In the corner, a television set with audio equipment and a fridge. But the eye-catcher of his imperium was a red mahogany wooden gun cabinet containing his Mk 2100 (2540) modular sniper rifle based on an aluminum alloy chassis stock with fully adjustable side-folding buttstock and tubular handguard offering rail interface system attachment points.1 He preferred his high-precision, long-range sniper rifle to any other out of sentimental reasons. His father, a huntsman, gave his adopted son his very first model back in the years, and Cuin had stood by its brand. Apart from this rifle, he only used his black SIG Pro (SP 2522 variant), a semi-automatic pistol, a repeating single-chamber handgun that automatically cycles its action to insert the subsequent cartridge in the chamber but required manual actuation of the trigger to discharge the following shot.2 He loved his SIG and carried it with him everywhere he went. Other than those two helpers, he carried out his work buying new equipment when he needed it. Selling it back on the black market after finishing a job. No need to clutter. Cuin was a man who liked his house tidy. His comrade Dave rang him back, being unavailable the previous night, so, Cuin had left him a message. “Hey, buddy, That was a surprise to hear your voice again, after what, 9 months?” The old boy sounded chirpy. Cuin laughed. “Better still, for more than twelve. What have you been up to his past year?” “Oh, the usual. Got remarried. Lovely woman, in her fifties. You know I can’t stand being alone. I got lucky. She is a doll! Retirement is lurking within two years. Lots of fishing in my spare time. And you? Still leading the good life of an entrepreneur?” “Yes, a bit of this and that. Mostly travel and meetings. Indoor writing stuff. A bit of painting, some reading, and listening to music. Hell, I am trying to make the most of this rotten life!“ “Good for you! When are you retaking that sorry ass of yours and visit? We’d love to have you. You know that! “ “Well,” Cuin sat up straight. That was not hard at all; he’d thought he’d had to make introductions first as to meeting up again. But the old man was quicker than him. ”That’s the reason I called. "How about I come over in a few days for a holiday. I can use the free time. Love to meet the wife, catch up, do some browsing the city, that sort of thing. I can stay in a hotel if that’s okay with you?” “Wel, you and I be damned both. No way I will let you stay in a hotel while you are in the city. We have a spare room. You are most welcome. Do you bring the girlfriend?” “Daphne? I can ask her; I would like that. I haven’t thought about it, but yes, I definitely will ask her. It would be good for her as well to escape for the west coast for a few days.” Cuin looked at his watch, lots of work to do today. “Okay, then,” Dave must have read his mind. “Come back to me this coming weekend; we’ll discuss the details. I have to go now. The wife is beckoning me to go shopping. One of the perks of being married, I guess.” He laughed. “We’ll do. Thanks for the invitation, Dave, great to hear your voice again. Talk later.” As Cuin was working on a quick lunch, he turned on the television. Images of protesters in several parts of the world. China, Thailand, Indonesia, and Hong Kong were especially in the news. People were not happy; they feared life and were scared of the oppressive governments everywhere. But still, more and more would take the plunge and try their luck outside in the open to express their revolting feelings. Police officers, special forces, and the army were busy containing groups and using force to spread people to other places. It was an ugly sight. After a quick scan, he turned the sound off and went back to preparing an olive salade with asparagus and ham to go with his tuna sandwich. He was hungry and wanted to calm his gruntling stomach before getting back to work. He also had to walk Crypto. The Great Dane required an hour walk minimum in the afternoon. He had to provide for that to keep him a happy dog. And he was very fond of his bestie. With his plate on his lap, he went back to reading some articles online. Crypto could wait. “Couldn’t you, Doggy?” The dog looked up from his place near the oven and watched him. Then he went back to what he was doing best. Sleeping. Daphne called at two. She sounded nervous. “How are you, dear? I missed you this time, a nasty case of the crush. Any chance of meeting again this weekend? “ “Well,” Cuin smiled; she was a dear. “I wanted to ring you with a proposal. How about the two of us escape town and go for a mini holiday on the west coast, to Los Angeles? We go by plane, spend a couple of days at a friend’s house and fly back again. Nothing fancy, just you and me visiting Dave, an army buddy of mine and his newlywed wife. How about it?” “When,”? She asked. “Up for discussion, but I would like to go as early as next week, say leaving Thursday?” “Wow, “she sounded relieved. That’s great! I would love to come along. I’ve had it with my life at the moment. “ “How’s your daughter doing? “She’s doing great, thanks for asking. Big girl now, twenty-five already. This year she will be finishing university.” “That’s good. Okay, I'll call you this weekend to work out a travel plan. Okay?” “That’s okay. I love to go on a travel date with you. You know that. Bye, talk to you soon.” For the next couple of hours, he was busy. Work. Work. Work. Cuin prepared a grid of questions he wanted to see answered. And he made sure it became as personal as possible. Apart from the obvious data like date of birth, address, education, habits, places the victim visited frequently. Who was Thruce The Unwell Everton? Who was his family? Friends? Lovers? Religion? How long was he a con-man? What did he do exactly? Were there records somewhere? Victims? Could he get close to those? His profession as a broker? Succesful, unsuccessful? Enemies? He could fill in the gaps by going online and do research, but a few questions had to be answered in person. That’s where the trip to Dave and his wife came in. He was glad Daphne was there to join him. A better cover was not possible. He thought he was doing very well. Because there was still that nagging voice inside his head that said this could be a potentially dangerous case. Something was amiss here, and he had no clue what it was. Just keep your eyes and ears open, Cuin, he mused. Play it by the book this round. The rest of the time, he thought about the kill's technical aspects and escape route. He had not decided yet when he would return to do the actual deed. First things first. He was like a predator chasing his prey. Approaching with care, circling the vic, then closing in for the final execution. He had done it dozens of times before. He came prepared. He was good at what he did. He was Cuin The Black Justien, assassin! WC:1656 |
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