Odd Jobs by Alan Petersen

Author:Alan Petersen [Petersen, Alan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Amazon: B07CBJQLMY
Publisher: 17th Street Books
Published: 2018-04-04T00:00:00+00:00

Forty-Four

Do you want this, or don’t you?

Stoklasná Lhota, Czech Republic

Back then, Axel was still Brandon Jones. He crossed the street and walked to where the locker was located.

He still couldn’t be sure that Mr. White was serious.

He kept thinking that perhaps it was all part of an elaborate training op, and that the supposed target worked for Mr. White.

Jones envisioned the three of them sharing a laugh about the successful mock execution that Mr. White had staged to test him.

Jones went to locker number seven. He put the key in and turned it. Jones was surprised that it worked.

He opened the locker door and saw a light-blue string gym bag inside. He didn’t open it; he just grabbed it by its white drawstrings, shouldered it, and left.

Back in his hotel, he removed the items from inside the drawstring bag.

Wrapped in a white towel was the Fort-12 pistol Mr. White had told him would be there.

It was a black-framed 9MM handgun. Its handle was wrapped in duct tape. Also in the bag were two magazines, fully loaded, and a black suppressor.

Jones neatly laid out the items on the bed and he stared at them. He picked up one of the magazines and, with his thumb, forced out one of the cartridges and caught it in midair. He looked at it closely.

It was a 9mm cartridge. Makarov stamped on it. Makarov was a Ukrainian firearms manufacturer, but Jones didn’t know that.

He held the cartridge up to the light as if he could see inside to figure out if it was real or fake. He couldn’t, but it looked real to him.

The Army used blanks for training, the only way you could tell them apart from real bullets was that the blanks had a red tip painted on. This bullet didn’t have any type of color marking on it. That didn’t mean it wasn’t a blank though, but in his gut Jones believed it was real. Which meant this operation was real. The target was real.

Mr. White wanted him to kill someone in just a few hours.

Jones tapped on the fake calculator app on the phone that Mr. White had given him and entered the passcode, which revealed the hidden app.

He pulled up the target’s photograph. A mustachioed man with black hair stared back at him. Also included was an address and the time to carry out the operation.

What was missing from the app was a name, bio, history, habits, or any of the other information he would have assumed would be part of a target’s dossier.

Jones looked at the photograph of the nameless man again. He seemed to be in his forties or early fifties. Just what the fuck did you do?

Jones had done plenty of killing in Iraq and Afghanistan. As a sniper, he had fifty-seven confirmed kills.

Like most soldiers in the fog of war, he had some kills that were considered borderline, meaning he couldn’t be certain if the man killed was a belligerent as recognized by international law. But in combat when you have seconds to decide, you always erred on the side of pulling the trigger.

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