A Trip to Baltimore, Shadow Style (part 1) (615 hits)
Category: GeneralLabels: fiction
Rating: 1.7 on 11 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by shadow (View user info) at 2006-05-01 17:00:04 EDT
Why multiple parts? Because if it's more than three pages, you get less than 3 reviews...
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It's a beautiful day, no scratch that, it's a phenomenal day. The scene is set for a fine afternoon, everything is perfect; the play of light through the soft white rolls of clouds, blue sky that stretches out beyond the limits of sight. Spring days in Baltimore are flecked with white and pink petals from the myriad blooming trees, each swirling to the ground on my path; it's enough to make someone feel like royalty. This glorious day could not possibly get any better. Then the phone rings.
Phone #1 that is, where all important calls are funneled to. I check the caller i.d., it's an unknown number but the area code indicates Baltimore County Police. Shit. Immediately the questions run through my mind; is it a contact or an arresting officer? Who the hell gave my cell number to the cops?!
I answer, putting on my serious business tone, "how can I help you?"
"I'm sorry to trouble you like this" the voice begins; certain regret overrides the otherwise professional tone. "This is Officer Richard Phillips with the Baltimore County Police Department. This number was listed as an emergency contact for Sanjay Raja-Gupta, but the only name he wrote here is 'shadow'".
"You have the right number" I say, I already know what's coming but I faintly I hope I'm wrong.
"Well, uh, Shadow, I am sorry to inform you that Mr. Raja-Gupta is dead. I know this must come as a shock-" fuck me "we have been unable to contact his family and we need someone to identify the body..." his voice trails off in my mind.
And then,
for just a moment
the entire world...
stops.
"Where is the body being held?" I must focus. I am the calm little center of the universe, watching as stars explode and die with fiery brilliance the likes of which no mortal could ever comprehend. I am enlightened, and I know what course the rest of history will follow within a 2% margin of error. I know the clock is ticking; all I need to know now is who set the timer?
"We have him at the University of Baltimore medical center, I should warn you though... he's in bad shape. If you need to take some time before-"
"When was the time of death?" I interrupt, much as I appreciate this officer's compassion it is the last thing I need right now.
"That information will be released in the official autopsy, there is an investigation surrounding the death" no shit "preliminary speculation would put the death between midnight and two this morning"
"What was the weapon?" This question probably gives away too much info, but I need to ask... I need to know who I'm going to have to kill.
"What makes you think there was a weapon?" The officer is no fool. "If you have any information regarding this case we will need you to provide a statement-"
"Officer Phillips, I appreciate your initiative, but there is information I need to know immediately, if you require authorization to release this information then by all means get it. Call Lieutenant Alexander Johnson; tell him Shadow needs to know time of death, weapon used, and caliber if it is a gun, extent of damage, and all leading suspects. I expect you to call me back within ten minutes. Is that clear?!" I can't be polite, and I can't hide behind anonymity. I have a suspicion and if I'm right, there will be more bodies by nightfall, one of which could be mine.
Officer Phillips sounds bewildered, and then hangs up. I check my watch, and get off the street. I take shelter in a coffee house; buy a small cup of joe. Cash only at this point, no need for unnecessary risk. I tip; you should always tip, even in a crisis. Like clockwork, nine minutes and forty-three seconds later, the phone rings. Police. Fuck, I hope they have news.
Officer Phillips relays the word. Two handguns were used, one .45 and 9mm. which doesn't tell me shit. Four bullets were fired into Sanjay's face, three from the 9mm and one from the .45 at point blank range, two more hit him in the chest, both from the .45 (which is why Phillips warned me about his condition). Nothing was stolen from the scene but several drawers were opened and their contents spilled, so they wanted it to look like a robbery. No fingerprints. Nobody heard the shots. It happened at his apartment in Catonsville eighteen minutes south of my current location. The fact that three of the bullets were lodged in his skull indicates that something had to have slowed the muzzle velocity, probably a pair of silencers. No doubt, this was a professional hit. I have to hand it Baltimore homicide, they work fast. No suspects though.
Here's what I can guarantee, the men who did this (for this kind of brutality it was definitely a pair of men) were well paid, but not well trained (too many bullets). This was a personal hit, somebody wanted to make damned sure that Sanjay would never walk out of his door again. There are only two men in this city who would want to take him out, Roger Marlin, a small time drug boss with big dreams for his part in the struggle for power in this city, who would be rightly pissed by the fact that two of his "officers" were taken out by me with the help of Sanjay. The other is Henry C., our boss.
I really hope it's Marlin...
I wish I had the luxury of waiting for the forensic analysis, I wish I had been there last night. I wish I had never brought Sanjay into this shit.
Too late for regret, too soon for tears.
I dip out of the coffee house through a service corridor that connects it to the office building beside it; thankfully there is no alarm on the door. The coffee house kids are hiding in the corridor smoking Camels, flicking distractedly at the brown and tan butts while I slip past. I have no weapons on me, today is an off day, and I need to make sure I don't run into anyone before I'm ready. My car is six blocks away in the Aquarium parking garage and if I was followed that would be a perfect spot to "mug" me and plant a few ounces of lead in my skull. No thanks, I'll walk.
It feels like Earth Day anyway.
Sanjay and I met at the University of Maryland when we were barely more than kids. Ironic, he flunked out because he couldn't pass English, I flunked for Math. He was going to be chemist, and he was damn good at figuring out how things fit together on a molecular level. When we dropped the ball I picked up with my current organization, I dragged him in because they needed suppliers for such sundry things as explosives. Sanjay was brilliant, and severely underpaid. We took a handful of jobs outside of jurisdiction so to speak, it's hard to negotiate a pay scale for hired reapers, especially when you make it a point to keep your head low and your name unknown. Sanjay was my tech-guy, creating gear that was uniquely useful for my profession. My only job as far as he was concerned was to keep us alive and the money coming.
I'm going to have to call his mother, but not today... tomorrow if I survive. I've got to think, concentrate. I must figure this out, now.
If it was Henry C. who perpetrated this event then he made two critical mistakes, first he hired young blood for the job, yes they were effective but it was obvious and vicious, they're traceable, sloppy; you'd never send someone like that to kill someone like me. Second, they didn't kill me first, and for obvious reasons; I give my info to nobody, jobs get sent via contacts that never get a good look at my face, in this high tech world nobody really does business by hand anymore, not on my level. I've never seen my boss and he's never seen me. I've made it neigh impossible to find my actual person, my apartment isn't in my name though I pay the bills there, and none of my three phones are registered to me though the owners of the names I use should thank me for paying their bills on time and upping their credit scores. The car is traceable, but it changes tags once per week and paint once per month, to the tune of $150 at a little chop shop in PG county.
I'm careful, to the point of paranoia, so that what just happened to Sanjay wouldn't happen to either of us. I assumed that they would hit the muscle before the organs so to speak, take out the protection before the protected, but Sanjay had a day job, he was findable. Whoever did this was impatient, wanted the prize without the work. Either that, or they were trying to flush me out with his death.
I need help but it's no easy thing to call a friend when you have a job like mine. I've already messed up by calling Alex, but at least I know he's always on my side, and Sanjay was like a brother to him. Time to make a few calls, and drop a few bodies...
User Reviews
Submitted by Dead_0hi0_Sky (user info) at 2006-05-02 13:58:59 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
No Comment
Submitted by Brdn_Nkd (user info) at 2006-05-02 13:51:58 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
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Submitted by Hilarity_Ensues (user info) at 2006-05-02 13:34:34 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
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Submitted by JMG114 (user info) at 2006-05-02 08:25:51 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No comment.
Submitted by Stagger_Lee (user info) at 2006-05-02 03:46:35 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by Razor (user info) at 2006-05-01 17:49:20 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by awesome_face (user info) at 2006-05-01 17:33:59 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
I didn't read this but JonnyX gives it a one.
So that means I give the opposite.
But since im doing the opposite of what JonnyX does in everything in life as well I must give this a +1.
To be different...
Submitted by firefly (user info) at 2006-05-01 17:30:35 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by extacy_red (user info) at 2006-05-01 17:30:19 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
at least you got locations and stuff right.
but since when does the aquarium have a parking garage, but i havn't been there in like 4 years. I always had to park at the ghetto ass 20 dollar a day places run by crazy black people.
o yea, it was good.
Submitted by JonnyX (user info) at 2006-05-01 17:11:13 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
this is fiction?
I thought it was real.
Submitted by shadow (user info) at 2006-05-01 17:01:50 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
if any of you are wondering why i'm writing assasin fiction instead of posting the Science Fiction Saga, my ex still has the damned manuscripts, though I've called in a friend to act as a go-between and retrieve them for me... i hope at least