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Chapter Four

Author: Daniel Junior
last update Last Updated: 2024-10-29 19:42:56

He took from his pocket a pair of thin silk gloves, and when he wore them, they became like a second skin on his hands, then waited some thirty minutes before opening the glove compartment. He took out the paper bag, and taking the package from the bag, he screwed the silencer slowly to the gun. His mind calculated.

Done screwing the silencer to the gun, he slid the gun into the pocket of his overcoat, opened the car door, and stepped out into the street. Gently, he swung the door shut, pushed it until he heard, ‘click.’

He looked up and down the moonlit street. A few taxis still bowled rapidly along the road, a few dawdlers loitered in the street beyond. It was a fine chilly night, and downtown Miami was still reluctant to go to sleep.

Moving quickly with stealth, he crossed the street, stepped into a dark shop doorway, and looked around. As he saw no one looking in his direction, he slunk along in the shadows, invisible in his black outfit. He reached the narrow alley before the condo and turned into it. Screened from the moonlight by the condo, the alley was in thick darkness.

Taking out a small flashlight from the pocket of his overcoat, he snapped it on and edged to the steel door. He stopped in front of the door, examined its lock. It would not be a problem for him. He rummaged in the pocket of his overcoat, brought out a gadget of thin steel, and; transferring the flashlight to his mouth, he squatted down and began handling the lock.

It took him less than thirty seconds to turn the lock. Then, slipping the pins back into his pocket, he eased open the door, moved into the small recess, and shut the door behind him.

He examined the fuse boxes, and almost immediately found the fuse, which controlled the electricity supply to the condo.

He rummaged again in his pocket and brought out a small screwdriver. Confidently and calmly, he set out to work.

He screwed out a hot wire from one circuit and screwed it into the main. Screwed out another hot wire, and screwed it into another circuit. He spent five more minutes working on the system. When he finished, he took out the flashlight from between his teeth and let out a breath in relief. He swallowed the excess saliva that had formed in his mouth, snapped off the flashlight, and wiped the saliva on it with the hem of his overcoat; before slipping it along with the screwdriver into his pocket.

He placed his ear against the steel door, listened for a while, then silently, he opened the door a few inches, peeped into the street. Satisfied there was no one in sight, he stepped into the alley, closed the door, and began a quick walk to the street.

He reached the mouth of the alley and stopped to peer into the street. He stiffened.

Some five yards from him, walking along the sidewalk, coming towards the alley, was a patrol cop. His mind froze with fear. His right hand automatically slid into the pocket of his overcoat, groping for his gun, but as soon as he felt the cold butt of the gun, his rationality came back to him, and he thought of the consequences of killing a cop.

So, moving with the speed and silence of a snake, he crossed to the Palm tree closest to him, slid himself behind the trunk and into its shadow.

It was a close call; for immediately, the cop reached the alley. He peered around the trunk, saw the cop pause at the mouth of the alley, turned and looked into the alley. But the thick darkness that hovered over the alley assured him that the cop couldn't see a thing.

Then, he saw the cop take out a pen-like thing from his pocket, raised it. As he pointed it to the alley, the dark man suddenly realized what it was, and ducked his head back into the shadow of the trunk, as a sudden sharp beam of light shot into the alley.

The light sliced through the darkness, like a knife through butter; swiftly, smoothly, and effortlessly.

The beam drifted around the alley and the dark man moved his bulk silently with the moving shadow of the trunk.

Did the cop see me? He wondered.

His fingers closed tightly around the butt of the .22mm. He had enough confidence in the silencer. He waited. After some seconds, the light went off. Then he heard the sauntering footfalls of the cop as he continued his patrol down the street.

He waited for the footfalls to recede completely out of his hearing before stepping out into the alley. He peered cautiously into the street. The cop had gone some hundred yards from the alley. He waited. He had to cross the street, but he feared the cop suddenly turning back the moment he was crossing the street.

Time was getting on. The cop had wasted enough of his time. He couldn't afford to hang about any longer. From his mental calculation, he had less than a minute before the fuse system blew up.

Deciding the risk was worth taking, he stepped into the light of the moon, tiptoed, his eyes fixed on the cop's back, as he sprinted across the street.

The cop didn't turn, and successfully, he slipped into a dark shop doorway. He exhaled deeply, touched his forehead, and found he was sweating a little. After a moment of rest, he crept on, keeping well in the shadows. He crossed the warehouse and moved onto the dark patio of the café.

Wasting no more time, he took out the gun from his pocket, cocked it silently, and lifted the gun. It was a tough shot, as the target was small, and he was about some ten yards from it. But difficult shots were nothing new to him.

Suddenly, there was a loud blow and a blind flash from the alley, and as if in sync with the system, he squeezed his trigger. The gun recoiled in his hand and he heard the faint 'plop' as the sound from the firing gun was suppressed by the silencer.

He saw some pieces of plastic and glass fall from the camera at the corner pillar of the residential building to the ground. He looked over at the condo. It had been thrown into total, damning darkness.

Suddenly, he heard the patter of feet coming up the street with short, quick steps. He moved closer to the wall and peered into the street. The cop was running back. He stopped at the mouth of the alley, shone his flashlight, and went in.

Shortly after, a powerful beam of a flashlight, followed by a chubby man, came out of the condo. He waved the flashlight around the street, hurried to the alley, and turned into it.

The dark man edged out of the patio, crossed the street to the condo, gently opening the door that led to the building, and stepped into the lobby. He closed the door and listened.

Just out of the light of the moon, he could make out nothing in the thick darkness of the lobby. He stood still, listening, but heard nothing. He brought out his flashlight, snapped it on, and proceeded swiftly with stealth to the stairs and up the flight of stairs.

He arrived at the tenth floor; no more breathless than a pregnant woman, who, after over six months of pregnancy, had just taken the doctor’s advice on a walking exercise. He paused at the head of the stairs for breath before continuing down the corridor to the double glass doors.

He kneeled before the doors, transferred the flashlight to his mouth, brought out his gadget of thin steel, and went to action.

Done, he stood up, slipped the steel back into his pocket, and with little turns at intervals, he turned the handle of the door and eased open the door.

As he stepped into the foyer, he heard a generator start-up downstairs. Shortly, a light came through from the stairwell into the penthouse corridor.

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