The Mafia Killer’s Wife by Rosa Milano

Seventeen

Ethan

The next morning my flight arrives in L.A. I head to the long-term parking lot. The Don has arranged a beat up Chevy with a monster of an engine hidden under the hood. Quiet but full of power in case I need to make a quick getaway. I keep the speed slow as I drive out. No point drawing unnecessary attention. I wait until I'm at my safe house to check out the case. I carry it inside and then open it.

MRAD. Folding stock. Changeable barrel. Adjustable trigger pull weight so I can set it up for my preferences. Polymer bolt guide. Just under fifteen pounds. Easy enough to carry in the case. Can fire up to a mile and holds ten in the barrel. I should only need one. I don't miss.

I spent the flight working out the layout of the place I'm heading. A decent seat in business class and an onion routed laptop was all I needed. I memorized the blueprint of the venue. I know the route Kruger will need to take up to the stage.

I have several options for the takedown but the simplest is the best. I will be on one of the roof of the tallest building near the venue. From there I've got a high angle but the award ceremony is taking place outdoors. That's his big mistake. Inside a venue, I'd have had to work my way up close but for an impossible job, this is going to be pretty simple.

It's when I get there that I realize there's a factor I didn't consider. They've built a marquee. I'm not going to be able to see through it. Time for a quick rethink.

I get to the back door of the venue. There's a cleaner loading stuff into a dumpster. No camera facing him. A perfect blind spot. That's the chink in the armor that will get Kruger killed. I walk straight up to the cleaner and get my arm around his neck. Within seconds he's down. He'll wake up with a sore throat and only wearing his underwear but he'll live. Unlike my target.

I undress him and then shove him into the dumpster, closing the lid on his prone form. I push my own outfit in after him.

I walk into the venue carrying my case in one hand, mop in the other. No one even looks at me. Cleaners and maids blend into the background wherever they go. I use the blueprint in my head, walk down one corridor and then turn left. At the end is what I'm looking for, the bathroom above the stage.

The bathroom has a small window facing the stage. Used to be the projector room back when the place was a cinema. The glass isn't thick but I don't want to take any chances. I wedge the mop against the door so no one can get in. Then I reach into the case and bring out the cutter. A one inch hole is there in the window a few seconds later. Then all I need to do is wait.

This bathroom isn't used much, I can tell. Boxes are piled up in the corners and the place smells of dust. It's quarter to five. I only have to wait fifteen minutes. They're applauding some other award out there.

I take the mop away from the door and start wiping the floor. My case is in the far cubicle which I've already locked from the inside before climbing back out.

I give it until two minutes to five. There's a woman on stage, talking to the crowd in all their finery. In front of her there's a catwalk and models are striding up and down. The music's thumping but my heart is calm. I block the door with one minute to go. I unlock the cubicle and piece the rifle together. Walking over to the window, I set up the rest against the sink below, lining it up so it's pointing right at the microphone. I take a breath as the woman announces his arrival.

She calls his name and I glance over to the wings. No one appears. "Harrison Kruger," she says again. The audience continue to applaud. There he is, marching out to the front of the stage, waving to the crowd.

I squeeze the trigger. The bullet flies. Kruger gets a dark spot on his forehead and his legs crumple. I'm already dismantling the rifle before anyone has worked out what's happened to him.

I walk back the way I came, ignoring the ruckus coming from the stage, the calls for help, the shrieking crowd. One minute later I'm out of the venue and walking away from the scene just as sirens start to sound in the distance.

I've a return flight booked, and I intend to make it. I need to speak to the Don. He wanted this job in exchange for his blessing upon me and Amanda.

I'm on the way to the airport when she calls me. My phone buzzes in my pocket just as I'm parking up in the spot I left only a few hours earlier. I turn off the engine and then press the phone to my ear.

"Ethan," Amanda says. Her voice reaches deep inside me, makes those feelings come back again. My hand itches in readiness. I want to spank her already. "Are you there?"

"What do you want, Amanda?"

"I want to come back to you," she says. Music to my ears. "Can you forgive me?"

I glance at the time and make the calculations. "Be on your doorstep at midnight with your bag packed."

Something about this isn't right. I hang up and already I'm running through the possibilities. The most likely one is that Benito got to her somehow. I'm guessing through her father. Wants her to come back to me. Distract me while he comes to whack me. Make his father proud by killing the man everyone thinks is unkillable.

I do a quick calculation. He'll expect me to be in the penthouse. Probably already got the keycard from her. That'll be it. Get her to distract me while he comes to get me with a crew of button men. I smile to myself as I get out of the car.

My life just got more complicated and yet simpler. I can whack Benito when he comes to get me. Time to make some plans of my own. I've got the length of the flight to do it. By the time I land I know exactly what I'm going to do.