The Hits Just Keep On Coming

By David and Linda Broughton

Unbeknown to each other, two different hit people are sent to kill the same person, someone that it seems everyone wants dead. One of the hit people is a pretty woman, that gets noticed by the other hitter. They don't get together right away, but when they wind up in the same places a number of times, things happen, sparks fly, and they become lovers, then begin working together, but when an offer seems to good to be true, they're sure it isn't, but who is on to them, and what's their game? It's no government entity, they work for such government entities from time to time, taking out the bad boys of the world. Can they stay ahead of whoever's onto them, make one last huge haul, and stick together? That remains to be seen, neither of them is used to having a partner in their work, or a regular lover.

• Language: English
• Publisher: David and Linda Broughton
• Release date: Feb 28, 2011
• ISBN: 9781458135483

David and Linda Broughton

The love of my life, Linda, is deceased. There will be a few more books by us, since more are written, they are not edited yet. In her honor I will try to get them edited and out to the public, but it's not easy for me. I have a new writing partner now, as well as a partner in life. No it will never be the same, nor should it. To those that review my books. I would greatly appreciate it if you actually READ the entire book before you write the review. Skimming it and posting a review just minutes after you buy it doesn't give a full understanding of the work. One person did this with "Grumpy Old Spy" and totally missed the entire story, and got what they did catch all wrong. I don't appreciate that. If you're not going to do an honest assessment after reading the entire book, don't bother to review it at all. In fact, if that person would contact me, I'll give them their money back for the book, providing they pull the cheap shot review.

Book preview

Chapter 0

Rose

Rose aims carefully, takes a deep breath, let's it half out, then gently squeezes the trigger. Pffft is the only sound the rifle makes with the silencer and sub-sonic rounds. She checks the target with the scope. The target is exactly one hundred and twelve feet out, the precise measurement of the shot she'll have to make.

The fancy black silhouette target shows an orange ring around the bullet holes to make them easily visible. It's two inches low and an inch or so to the left. She adjusts the scope. Pffft. Rose checks again. Oops too much adjustment. Now it's three inches too high and slightly to the right of center. She makes a couple of tiny adjustments. Pfft, right on the nose, actually just above the nose in the case of this man sized target. It's exactly where she aimed, at any rate.

Rose doesn't clean the weapon; she only clears the chamber and drops out the magazine. Cleaning it now would change the zero again ever so much, but she can't have that.

Rose is a pro, a professional hit-person. She usually plies her trade on a free-lance basis for various governments, sometimes taking on private clients. No one working directly for any government does hits anymore, outside of battlegrounds. The political fallout should they be caught and linked to the government entities would be too great. To avoid that situation she, and probably others get hired to do the dirty work. She's paid well, since she sets her own fees.

She refuses the jobs where the reasons for the hit are purely so another slob can move up the ladder. Tyrants, dictators, spies, corporate executives that rape the land and citizens, or other such villainous bastards she has no problem taking out by various means. Sometimes, the clients want it known it was a hit. More often than not, her various employers want it to look accidental.

The shot she's zeroing her weapon for on this nice spring day is supposed to look like what it is, an out and out hit. The reason? She has no idea, that's in the mind of the entity that's paying. The target, she's well researched. The man is a mobster, a Russian mobster, very high up the food chain. He not only deals in drugs, prostitution, and money laundering, he sells weapons, some think he can also get nukes, to anyone that's got enough cash. His biggest buyers are of the Middle Eastern terrorist variety.

Rose would have no problem taking this guy out for free, but she didn't tell her employers that. Four different governments are paying for the same hit. That cute bit was handled by her secretary, gofer, and cut out, Mary McCarty. Mary was a con artist in her earlier years, and still has a bit of the blarney in her crossed with a streak of larceny when she thinks she can get away with something. Rose doesn't have to worry much about her stealing from her. Mary knows the penalty for that. Stealing from someone that kills for a living isn't a good idea.

Rose breaks down the rifle, puts it back in it's attaché style fitted metal case, then takes everything, including the spent brass, to her rented Ford Five Hundred. She removes the shot up target, then wipes down the bench for prints at this public range. These little precautions are a habit. She's never been so much as suspected of anything, and wants to keep it that way.

Of course, she has numerous fake driver's licenses, passports and credit cards she uses. They aren't truly fake, they will pass a cursory examination, or a computer check. Some, she's kept active for years now, building a history on them. Others just kind of appear in the system one day, but unless somebody has reason to check closely, they'll pass muster too.

Arthur

The same time, outside of town at an impromptu shooting range.

Arthur Black is sighting in his new rifle. It's not a new model, he uses the same kind of break-down sniper rifle nearly every time, since he's familiar and comfortable with it. He either uses an entirely new rifle picked up in whatever town he's going to, or an older rifle with a new barrel Fed Exed to that town. Since barrels leave traceable marks on bullets, a new rifle or barrel is required every time he uses one for a hit.

Arthur doesn't always use a rifle, or any kind of actual weapon. Sometimes a little adjustment to a car's brakes is all it takes to get the job done. That's not so easy anymore, with airbags and all, severe car crashes are survivable. Still, with the right touch, a few sensor wires clipped, and maybe an extra part added, it can be done. Arthur actually prefers methods that take some creativity, ones that nobody ever realizes are a murder.

For this job, they want it to look like a hit, for whatever reason. Some Russian mobster ticked somebody off. Criminals paying to make other criminals dead is all right by Arthur. He is a man with a moral code, albeit his own idea of what is moral, not society's. He doesn't kill political figures simply for someone else's political gain. Tyrants, dictators, and the like that enslave their people, that's okay, not simply so someone else can take their place. Sometimes, he's taken such jobs, offed the target then after he's been paid, he's offed the employer too. Their deaths were purely by accident, of course. He wouldn't want it getting out he offed employers, jobs would dry up for him, fast.

When Arthur is satisfied that the rifle is zeroed with the silencer and subsonic rounds, for exactly one hundred and forty-two feet, he packs it up with only a wipe down of the outside, rounds and mags. He won't clean it, that may upset the zero by an inch or more, the sub-sonic rounds are particularly sensitive to buildup in the bore, any less, or any more, changes the zero. He can't have that, he is a pro.

Arthur's being so well paid for this job, that it made him suspicious. He's getting four times the usual rate. When he questioned his front man about it, he was told that there were four different parties paying full price for the same hit. Still, he's leery of it, four people paying seems strange. He's researched the man, and the setting for the hit, it should be easy, but when he's getting four times the rate for what should be an easy hit, it makes him wonder if he's the one being set up. He can't see how, he has three escape routes planned and the people paying don't know who he is.

Arthur's front man doesn't know who he really is or what he really looks like. His front man, after the first time, hasn't seen Arthur in person since. Arthur, as he's calling himself these days, was in a heavy disguise that one time, so in reality, the front man has never seen him at all.

Any time he does anything to do with his business, he's in at least a partial disguise. Today, he looks like a much older man than his thirty-two years, he looks to be sixty or better. When in public, he makes sure to walk and talk like a man of that age.

Arthur could have been a brilliant actor, but there isn't much call for leading men only five feet six inches tall. Only bit parts as a sidekick were offered most of the time, he took the jobs, but knew he'd never make substantial money like that. He worked in the business for some time before he realized he'd never be the star he should be, so he learned all the tricks of the various trades, especially makeup and special effects. Now he applies them to his current line of work.

Arthur packs up, making sure he leaves nothing behind that could give him away. He's not wearing phony fingerprints or gloves today, he's using a cloth to pick things up. He wants nothing related to shooting left behind with his prints on it. Some damn gumshoe could get lucky. Leave things to chance, and chance will bite you in the ass, is his motto.

Chapter 1

Rose

The day is bright, the wind calm, a perfect day for shooting. It's not too hot, only comfortably warm. In this suburb of Los Angeles, near the ocean, just one of many suburbs looking for a city, it's a good shooting day when the fog from the ocean isn't ruining visibility, or else it's too hot outside to be comfortable. It's a dry area, so far as rainfall is concerned, but this close to the ocean it's often quite humid, that's what Rose's research told her, she hasn't spent a lot of time in the area.

The rooftop she's on is gravel, if she had to be totally quiet, that would be a problem, but with the air handlers and other mechanicals to the building operating nearby, she can't be heard. Her disguise as an air conditioning company worker complete with picture ID should get her by, it got her access to this roof easy enough. Nobody will be coming up here, I've locked the access door by putting my own padlock on the outside. Should I need to use it, I have the key, but that's only a secondary escape route, my first is the fire escapes in the rear of the building. Third is roping down the side, between this building and the one next-door, well hidden from view of anyone on the street. The more she thinks about it, the better roping down seems. The ropes should be my primary route, the fire escape secondary, and the stairs the third. Yeah, that makes more sense. I'm less likely to be seen that way. If I have time I should unlock the door before I go, leaving it locked will give them a clue to where the shot actually came from. Not that I'll intentionally leave anything behind, but a stray hair or some such could cause me trouble in the future, damn that DNA crap.

Arthur

It's a beautiful day, the shot should be easy. Fast-roping down in between these two buildings should get me out of here afterwards in a hurry. I'll need to get off the building quickly, but remember to walk calmly to my car after the fact. I'm always having to remind myself of that, running seems like the thing to do, but would only draw someone's attention right after a shooting. Maybe I should have gone with the gangbanger style drive by idea. That can be problematic, and not always sure to kill. They said to make it look like a hit, they didn't say it had to look like a pro job.

Mike is the name he's using for this guise, since it says Mike on his uniform shirt. He used the ruse of an air conditioning checkup to gain access. He made sure his uniform and ID look legit, and are from the same company the building management always uses.

Its amazing what a clipboard and looking the part will get you access to. Arthur's managed to access military bases by wearing the proper uniform and having a clipboard in hand. The clipboard with paperwork on it is the thing to have, all military men, regardless of the country, will steer clear of anyone with a clipboard in hand. The clipboard always means trouble, or being volunteered for some crummy job.

Arthur checks his watch. Any time now the asshole I'm here to hit will be leaving the building to go to lunch. I better be ready, I'll only have seconds to make the shot, if I don't get a shot today, I'll have to come up with a new plan, coming up here a third time to work on air conditioning that seems to be functioning properly would be too conspicuous, twice may be too much as it is.

Art sets the barrel on a foam pad sitting on the short wall that encircles the roof. That way, it will leave no marks or metal scrapings on the granite capstone. He checks his fake fingerprints, they're still adhered well. Today he's using J. Edgar Hoover's. If anyone does find the prints, let them try to figure that one out.

Chapter 2

Rose

Rose is waiting as patiently as possible, the target is a creature of habit, he leaves the office across the street at noon everyday, heading for his lunch spot a few blocks away. He'll use an armored limo, so she'll have only a few seconds to make the shot. It has to be a headshot, the target wears the new T-shirt thick bullet proof vest or wears a suit made from the same material, so a headshot is the only way to go.

He always leaves around noon, but isn't always right on the dot. He could leave a few minutes early or a few minutes late. The waiting is always the most difficult part for her. She mentally ticks things off as she waits. The pad is on the retaining wall, no marks will be left behind. I'll stuff the thin pad in my pocket before I leave. Unlocking the access door will be next, the key is in the lock, all I have to do is turn it and remove the lock. It too will go in my pocket. What else … I won't work the action, that will leave the fired case in the rifle. I can break it down in seconds. Of course, it goes with me, at least until I can dump it somewhere that it won't be found. I won't take the chance that there isn't a skin particle, stray hair or some such to give the crime scene guys a DNA profile. That should do it, there's nothing else here that isn't already on me.

The door of the target's building opens. His security men appear first, as always. There he is. Don't rush it. Breathe … half out … squeeze. Pffft, Rose sees the target's head nearly explode from the impact. What the hell? My one sub-sonic bullet shouldn't have done that much. No time to worry about it now, he's dead, that's all that matters. Pad in pocket -- weapon apart -- in the case -- padlock, check. Rose walks to the edge of the building where she will rope down. She attaches the rope by looping the center around a chimney pipe. Both ends of the rope get dropped over the side. She begins the climb down, glad its only six stories. What the hell, someone is roping down from that eight story building, I best get a move on.

Rose hits the ground about the same time as the other guy, also in an air conditioning company uniform. She looks away, though she's in disguise, its not all that much of one. He seems to be in as big of a hurry to get out of here as I am.

She pulls down the rope, to quickly stuff it in her tool bag hanging from her shoulder. The thin, high tech rope doesn't take up much space. Hey, he's using the same kind of rope and tool bag. He's got a hard case inside his tool bag too. Could he be another shooter? I can't worry about it now. Rose walks apparently calmly to her van parked on the street, though this guy is making her extremely nervous, she keeps her hand on the pistol inside her coveralls. Damn, he's walking right behind me.

Rose went so far as to have the air conditioning company signs made up in stick-on vinyl. Right in front of her van is a white pickup with another air conditioning company's logos stuck on it. Naw, he could be just a climbing fan that gets a kick out of going down the sides of buildings while at work … no that doesn't wash, the company would pitch a bitch, insurance and all that … still … oh whatever. I'm out of here.

Arthur

Good shot, wow did his head explode. I didn't think this thing had that kind of power. Time to go. The rope is ready, I'm packed up, here we go. Who the hell is roping down from the building next door? A cop? Hell no, there's no way they could be there, with ropes yet. Hmmm, an air-conditioning company logo on the back…damn, that's a woman, that uniform can't conceal that shape. It is California, maybe she just likes to climb down, adding a little fun to her workday … tool bag with hard case … same high-tech thin rope … I best not look at her too hard, my disguise isn't that heavy, she might be able to ID me.

Using his abundant muscle, to stop him self just before hitting the ground, Arthur gets down first, though not by much. She doesn't seem to want me to look at her either. Could she be a second shooter, maybe hired by others that wanted this guy dead? No matter now. Remain calm, gather up the rope, walk calmly to the truck, just like the plan.

She got that rope into that tool bag fast, she's done this before … often, from the looks of it. She's walking calmly in front of me, if she's a hitter, she's in my league. What a nice ass … too bad I don't dare take a chance on acknowledging her… would be nice though, damn, it's been forever since I've had female companionship. I'll have to remedy that soon.

Stick on logos on her van, just like I have, only for a different company. Damn, she must be a hitter that thinks like I do. I wish … no, on second thought, dating a woman that kills for a living, like I do, that's a bad idea. We'd be damn sure never to tick each other off a whole lot.

Arthur chuckles at that thought as he gets in the truck, and pulls out into the street, easy to do since traffic is stopped back by the target building. He watches the mirrors, the van stays behind him for two blocks, probably getting his plate number, just like he got hers when he passed her van. When the light changes, he goes straight, she turns left. Oh well, maybe I'll check out the rental van. She did miss that, she didn't remove the rental company sticker. Undoubtedly, it's rented with phony ID. Might be fun to try, to find her though. Maybe later, right now it's plan B, driving to Vegas. I'll stop somewhere along the way to toss the rifle. I don't want to drop it too close to the scene.

Chapter 3

Rose

So the ID is fake, Mary?

Oh, it goes back a few years, but yeah, when I dug deeper it just appeared one day. The credit card is valid, and the bills get paid, but they're sent to the address of a remailing company. I couldn't trace it any further, the remailing company doesn't keep the client's names on any computer that I could remotely access.

So whoever he is, he's for sure not a cop?

Not of the regular variety, maybe CIA or None Such Agency, or any one of a dozen clandestine government agencies. He could have been a hitter, or there to verify your work.

Rose replies, To verify the work, he could have watched from anywhere, he wouldn't have needed a tool bag, an air conditioning company sign on the truck, or the outfit. I'll wager he was in disguise too.

Mary agrees, Could be another hitter, all right. The research said any number of people wanted that target gone. Maybe one of our own clients sent a backup. It's hard to say for sure.

Okay, Mary. Any more jobs on the horizon?

Nothing definite, a possibility of a job in London, but it's not firm yet. Enjoy a week or two in Vegas, don't blow in all your earnings.

Never happen, I'm not that stupid. I'll check in on Tuesday, if I don't hear from you before then. You should take some time off too, you could use a break.

Honey, this job is one long break with intermittent short periods of work. If it wasn't for my part time job tending bar, I'd be bored silly.

Is that why you do such a crummy paying job, when you don't need the work?

Mary gets a giggle in her voice, That and meeting men that aren't too proud to give a mature lady a tumble.

You better watch those tumbles, you don't need to catch something there's no cure for.

I make them wear their raincoats. I don't take any old thing to bed. I'm mature enough to be a little discerning.

Just the same, be careful there's a lot of freaks out there.

Not so many here in the heartland, sweetie. You be careful out west, there's more freaks out there per capita than anywhere else.

That's true. Have your fun. Bye for now.

Sweetie, find yourself a tumble or two while you're in Vegas. You could use it.

True enough, it's been a long time. Bye.

Buy bonds.

Why do you always say that?

Oh, it's something my grandfather used to always say, bye and buy bonds. Where it comes from I don't know, I just do it because gramps did, I loved that old man.

Okay, bye.

Buy bonds.

Rose shuts her secure cell. She always likes talking with Mary, the one person she can really talk to because she's the only person in the world