She had placed her black leather brief case by the wooden leg of the carpet cushioned chair. He’d offer her the more comfortable lounge chairs one sank into but she preferred the straight chair in front of his desk. Her legs were not shown at their best there, compared to how they would have been in the lower more seductive chair, but she liked the easier mobility.
“I’m sure you’re aware that the owners of such condos are completely confidential,” he said. He was 50 and balding. May have been a foot ball player younger. Wore a crumpled sports jacket and slacks. His office spoke more of his success. She knew him as one of the best. Had used his services in the past.
“That’s why I came to you.” She smiled dmurely.
‘Mary Jenkins owns that particular penthouse suite. Her telephone number is in the portfolio I prepared for you. There’s some significant shady associations that might explain her siignificant income. I think you’ll find it interesting. Is there anything more I can help you with?”
“No that’s enough . Thank you. You’ve been most helpful.” She reached down and took an immodest amount of cash from her brief case, then said, “there’s no record of us meeting as usual.”
“Of course,” he said.
“And this other address, you’re sure is for the man they call the Boss.”
“I’m sure. You’re not the first whose asked me for his address. I expect that might help you as well.” He didn’t know her actual work but knew that others she’d been interested had met their demise over the years. She told him she worked for some interested parties. He imagined her an analyst of some sort. Certainly not directly involved.
“Yes, it does, “ she said, uncrossing her legs and standing on her black three inch heels. He stood too. She picked up her brief case. She reached across the table and shook his hand.
“Thank you.” She said. She left him at the door, knowing he was contemplating her beautiful undulating butt as she walked slowly down the hall to the elevator. She stepped on and turning looked back nodded. He was still standing there watching her as the doors of the elevator closed.
Later that day she called Mary Jenkins and found no one home. Without letting the security cameras see her she made her way delicately through the security systems. They were electronic without human support. She had the computer tools to by pass them. It took little skill with the new computer tools to disable older security systems and off set the alarms. So many of these buildings advertised their security systems but didn’t keep up the update giving their clients a false sense of security. As th old adage went a lock only served to keep an honest man out.
Her hacker contact who provided her computer tools, also, for an additional fee, ensured a buildings external alarm to police or security firm never egaged.
She had carried her rather heavy gift wrapped packages in from her car parked in the downstairs parking garage. Nothing tripped. She rode the elevator to the penthouse.
When the first package had arrived that morning from the bakery, special and private delivery, she had been impressed with the amount of C4. She’d left it in the trunk of a second hand Fiat, she’d bought the day after she had first called the bakery. She’d had to circle the block only once before she’d been able park outside the exit to the target’s parking garage. She had the second package with her in the building across the street.
She was on the balcony of Mary Jenkins. Wearing a mask she’d gassed her coming home from her corporate law officers unlocked own her door and stepped into her own home. The gas had taken her out as she physically wrestled her to the floor. Ms Jenkins was now tied up in the closet of her own home with her own monogrammed t towel stuffed in her mouth..
Now she sat on the balcony looking across at the Penthouse. She was wearing her black jeans and black turtleneck. No she’d fabric. She had special hat and gloves to ensure no hairs and no prints were left.
Beside her was the GS-777 Light weight shoulder fired recoilless launcher. She had a half dozen standard RPG rounds. She’d brought it all in a padded carry bag. Nothing to it for a girl who liked to be prepared.
She looked at her watch. Once more figured the time she thought it would take. If she didn’t kill him with the rockets, it would take him at least 5 minutes to come down the elevator and get in the car. 10 minutes max. She knew the car he had, that fancy hummer. Despite being armoured it wouldn’t likely withstand a close on blast of C4. She planned to add a couple of rockets to that. Then if anything continued to move she had her trusty 300 win mag Winchester.
She saw the flickering light of a tv and thought this time was as good as any.
The first rocket crashed through the balcony glass exploding on impact. The second crashed through the room. . The third felt like over kill. Lots of explosions. Fire and sprinkler system automatically on. She moved back from the balcony. Others below here were coming out on theirs.
She watched the street seeing the parking gates lifting. She detonated the Fiat car bomb as the Hummer accelerated out of the underground parking. She figured that meant the target had survived the rockets. The car bomb exploded throwing the Hummer high in the air, bouncing end over end crushing parked cars till coming to a rest finally it’s side. She did’t figure the target would have taken the time to buckle up. That crash would certainly have killed him. Still, for good measure she placed one more rocket into the roof of the Hummer. Even if it was the armoured Hummer was the best, it wasn’t likely anyone could survive. She moved back from the filigree iron. She had the Winchester ready and waited. No one got out.
She checked her site before leaving. She left the RPG and untied Mary Jenkins before pulling her onto the balcony. If her timing was right Mary Jenkins would wake up when the police were bashing down her door. Mary Jenkins her private eye had found wasn’t totally an innoscent which explained how she paid for this penthouse suite . That would certainly confuse pursuit. Her hacker had been paid to return the system to its preset.
On the street she carried her break down Winchester in it’s inconspicuous case. She’d let her hair down and walked out of the parking garage to where her Peugeot was parked. There was a lot of traffick on the roads heading towards the site of the ‘accident’. It didn’t matter. Her own place was less than a mile away. Without fear of pursuit or identification she drove into her own underground parking. She left the Peugeot taking the Winchester with her as she took the elevator up to her own penthouse suite. She put the Winchester in the special lined safe in the bathroom floor. The tiles were specially chosen for lead content. No one would find safe unless they tore the building down. The space was big enough for only a few treats. But the privacy off set that limitation.
Putting the cases aside she took her Leica binoculars out of the drawer and walked out onto her balcony. The Hummer was just as she left it. No door had opened. The police were there. An ambulance followed. A fire truck had arrived. Through her binoculars she watched as the police and firemen used the jaws of life to open the crumpled Hummer. Two bodies were pulled out. By the way they handled them she didn’t think they were alive.
Later she’d hear on the 10 o’clock news that both were dead.
She picked up the cell phone and called the number on her contact list.
“Satisfied,” she asked.
“Very,” the woman’s voice at the other end responded. The line going dead immediately.
She stripped in her bed room before walking naked into the shower. She languished under the hot shower enjoying soaping herself down with Irish Spring and washing her hair with Crew shampoo. She had some extra costs but in the end she’d still made a profit. Out of the shower towelling herself down she chose the Occitane lotion.
In the walk in closet she selected a matching black bra and panty set. She didn’t bother with stockings but slipped a cotton black dress over her head , zipping the back up herself. She chose non metal jewelry considering the flight. Casual black pumps. She took the already packed carry on from the closet and checked that her ticket and passport were in her carry on purse. As she walked out her door she engaged her security her hacker ensure was the best and always up to date.
That night Alfredo met her after the plane landed. Driving his Baha bug he took her to her cabana. His English wasn’t that good but his athletic body was exquisite. He really was attentive too. The south sea breeze and gentle lapping of the surf contributed to her enjoyment of being home. The next morning Alfredo brought her coffee with cream as she sat in her bikini in her beach chair,
She smiled to herself. She was certain that the man she’d killed the night before didn’t realize that his assassin was the woman he’d watched in his star gazer telescope. Perhaps if he’d been looking where he was supposed to he might have seen his own fallen star before the end was inevitable. The people she worked for didn’t tolerate cockiness in the up and coming help.
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