Semua Bab Drengr: Bab 1 - Bab 10

I was in an abandoned building scheduled for remodeling and I was looking through the scope of a Barrett M82. It was a beautiful rifle and it could hit a mark one thousand five hundred yards away. I was lying on a wooden work table and my target was Phillip Young, an investment trader from New York, who made his money skimming from his clients. On the side, Phillip liked young boys and cocaine. I received an encrypted file with all the relevant information and images of my target. The rest was up to me, the where and how, unless the how was specifically requested. I confirmed death immediately after and got paid.Phillip Young stepped out onto the balcony of the high-rise apartment building where he was attending a party, hosted by the generous benefactor paying for his death. I adjusted the scope slightly and looked at him through it. He lit a cigarette and seemed to look directly at me. He couldn’t see me though. I exhaled and squeezed the trigger.I saw the cloud of blood as the

“Morning, Blake,” Charlotte said as she placed a cup down on the table and filled it from the coffee pot.“Hi, Charlotte,” I said and smiled.It’s what people in small towns did. They ate at diners and they smiled at their neighbors, even though smiling wasn’t something I did before I’d moved to Epworth. Charlotte walked off to serve other customers but I knew she'd be back in approximately seven minutes, the time it took me to empty my first cup of coffee.“Here’s your orange juice,” she said and put the glass down next to my cup in passing. Today was Friday and on Friday’s I always had an omelet filled with cheese, mushrooms, and peppers with extra bacon on the side. It had taken her three weeks to figure out my preferences and started asking me if I was having my regular Monday breakfast on a Monday.It might seem odd that I ate the same things for breakfast every day of the week but it was just something I did. Jack called it home OCD and the thought had made me laugh. My morning

I picked Charlotte up and started moving to the front door. Fifteen seconds. I got her inside the truck and she was fully conscious now. Her eyelids were fluttering a little, her neck red from where his hands had been. I started the truck at the count of 35 seconds and drove off.I looked back in the rearview mirror and I saw him in the street, looking at the back of the truck. I turned the corner and accelerated. I looked over at her as she took deep breaths, her hand at the base of her throat.“Just breathe,” I said to her. I had to wonder why she had to call me. “Why didn’t you call Max?” I already knew the answer to that question. She didn’t want anyone to know about her history, but I asked the question anyway.“No cops,” she said as I drove past the police station, automatically taking a different route just in case he tried to follow us. The streets were empty as I turned onto the road leading to my farm. I pulled into the garage and opened the door for her. She followed me out

Charlotte took the plate in front of me, dished up at the stove and placed it down in front of me again. I had just run 11 miles and I would struggle to eat but I kept quiet instead.“Thank you,” I said automatically. My plate consisted of my normal Thursday breakfast, two slices of unbuttered toast, two eggs, four rashers of bacon and three slices of fried tomatoes. It was almost perfect and then she made it perfect. She filled my glass with orange juice and sat down opposite me.Her plate had a slice of toast, one egg and one rasher of bacon, no tomato. “Is that all you’re having?”She looked down at her plate. “I’m not really that hungry.” I watched as she smeared butter on her toast and I shuddered. The idea of butter on bread was an odd one for me.We finished eating in silence and she placed a glass of warm water down in front of me and took my empty plate. “You should make a list. I’ll go to Dubuque in an hour.”“A list of what?” she asked me with a frown.She took the plates a

I put my carry-on suitcase down on the bed and opened it. Next, I unzipped the backpack I picked up from the locker earlier. I took the two Jericho’s out and took them along with the cleaning kit to the living room. It had two couches on either side in front of large windows. After I closed the blinds, I started cleaning them.I wiped the table when I was finished and put the guns in the safe, hidden away in a cupboard in the bedroom. I left the yacht, locking the door behind me and walked down the jetty and to the parking lot of the marina. With dinner bought, I took it back to the yacht and sat on the open deck, watching the yachts around me as I ate.Paul Jameson was standing at the door as a maid and a chef stepped off the yacht and left for the night. He was alone. His bodyguard, John Browne, had left an hour earlier. He was twenty-nine years old, approximately six feet and one inches, weighing two hundred and twenty pounds. He worked out, shaved his head and had brown eyes. He c