Forgiveness

by Jodi Miller

“How did you find me?”

“I have my ways. How did you get in here and get that, your only eighteen?”

Laugh. “I have my ways. My age has never stopped me.”

“No, it didn’t. After all, you were the best, Death Angel.”

Silence. “Don’t call me that. I left that name behind two years ago.”

“Same time you started drinking?”

“I started that when I was fourteen.”

“When you met Black Knight?”

Silence. “No I have known him since I was twelve.”

“I have a job for you Death Angel.”

“Don’t use that name!”

“What should I call you then? You never gave me your real name.”

“Don’t call me anything then, leave. You know my answer by now.”

“Timms thought you would do it.”

“I knew he was having me watched. Thought I would kill myself after I botched up Marco’s death. I didn’t though, now did I? Don’t even have a scar from attempting to slit a wrist.”

“So, will you?”

“No. And tell Timms he better leave me alone before I report Knife for stalking. An innocent eyed eighteen year old can easily convince the police she is totally the victim.”

“You have never been innocent, but your looks might helped. They always did.”

“Drake, just leave me alone. I have a full schedule tonight.”

“What, trying to drink away your memories and steady hand? You should know it is not going to stop what happened Death Angel!”

“For the last forsaken time, never use that name! So what if I drink till I throw up blood, it has nothing to do with you or Timms any more. By law, I am an adult.”

“But this life has everything to do with Lysander.”

Silence. “Maybe it does, and maybe it doesn’t.”

“So what is your real name?”

“Why don’t you ask Timms, your such a good friend of his.”

“Timms doesn’t have friends. He has clients. It cost me a bundle to just find the town you were staying in. Think about how much your information would cost.”

“More then you think. Ask Lysander or Black Knight as you always preferred.” Laugh

“I didn’t think your sense of humor was so dry.”

“It isn’t, I am just drunk.” Sob. “God, I miss him.”

“I know.”

“It was my fault, I was careless.”

“You haven’t forgiven yourself, and he hasn’t forgiven you.”

“That is horrible to say, tell a girl her dead lover hates her for letting him die.”

“Not for letting him die, for dying yourself.”

“I thought I didn’t commit suicide?”

“But you are drowning yourself.”

“Since when do you get sentimental?”

“Since I need your help.”

“No.”

“It pays half a million.”

“No.”

“I will leave you alone.”

“You will if I don’t also.”

“I will make Timms leave you alone.”

“Timms does what he wants, nothing else.”

“Fine. But just remember others will search you out. Your name is still known in the underworld. They will want your help or your head.” Slam and stomp. Door creaks open.

“Whose the target.”

“Anthony Ages.” Door shuts.

“So that is why Timms gave you my name?”

“He figured you really wanted this kill.”

“If you had just mentioned that name I would have....”

“I wanted you to do this out of your own free will, not out of your thirst for revenge.”

“If I kill him, I can forgive myself.”

“I was hoping you would have done that by now.”

Pause. “When do you need me?”

“Tonight at midnight. He is staying at his daughter’s. You know were she lives, don’t you?”

“I haven’t been gone that long Drake.”

“I know.” Door creaks open again.

“And Drake, this time I plan on killing him, once and for all.”

“I know babe, I know.” Door shuts.

Bottle shatters from impact with counter. “Just one last time, and then I am free forever.”

People claim they can kill someone all the time, but few actually do. Give a man a gun and tell him to point it at the guy and shot, and he will freak out. Those threats are empty. Most people would never stain their hands with blood. Not even hunters, who can shoot deer without another care. To be told to take a live of another human is near impossible for most people and they can’t do it.

I can. That is, or was, my job. I am an assassin. Yeah, I killed people. A lot, actually. I do those high profile killings, taking out the gang and mafia leaders. Those who should be locked up for life, but too many fear or work for the corrupted system. My first killing was when I was ten. I remember it like it was yesterday. I like knifes and daggers more then high-tech weaponry. And my jumping from high places to attack got me the code name Death Angel.

I was trained by Simon Timms, an old genius that has more then a thousand lives to his name. He liked taking out a crowd more then a single. He raised me. My mother died in child birth, and my father never knew who I was. If he had, I would never be what I am. I know he would love me, I believe he does now. I have just chosen not to tell him, as I have chosen not to tell anyone my name. One day, I will tell my secrets, but now it not the time. Now I have a job.

The business rarely changes. Sure, you improve techniques and weapons, but learning how to kill a person is still basic. I think the ninjas were the best. Their ways have influenced our ways. Timms has always stressed that. He is a ninja, I think. I can’t hear him approach and his move happen before you can see them. But, he is old now. Killing someone takes too much time and effort that is body is not at a luxury to give. So he takes on new apprentices, like Lysander and me. Mainly me, Lysander was already an assassin when they meet.

Ages’ daughter’s house does not show the needed security for the child of a the leader of the biggest drug ring leader. Then again, he rarely took his job home. To most, he was just the owner of a computer company, just a normal billionaire. That is, unless you checked some of those warehouses, and found that some were stacked with cocaine, not microchips.

The security system is considered state of the art. Nothing is suppose to get past it, not even an ant. I have it broken in less then five minutes. I was the best, and still am. Lysander was my only competition. My heart stops. Now is not the time to think of him. That is for after, when I can lay Ages’ head on his grave. Now, is time for my last time.

When I turned twelve, I started getting high profile jobs. The type that paid money and risked my neck doing it. So, I needed a partner. Timms was just too old, and everyone else he knew had a partner already, or was an established soloist. But, he found a newbie, two years older then me that had been killing for longer and with a better record then me. I was impressed. I was at a high level, so this guy had to be good.

He was, in more the one way. He was old fashion like me and took on the name Black Knight, like a medieval villain. Though, he was always my hero. He was handsome, tall and blonde with an easy smile and manner. He was the only person I told my name too, as Timms knew already and my mother had named me.

And even if it is cliched in some way, we fell in love. After all, most of our fellow workers were ten years our seniors and we didn’t actually get along well with normal children who didn’t know the best way to cut off a man’s head. So with each mission, we grew closer and closer. He became my everything, as I became his. But he had saved his everything, and I had allowed him to die.

Getting past the few guards is a bit tricky. Ages had them well trained, but they thought at first I was just a maid or a friend of Ages’ granddaughter. But I sat them straight, with a knife through the head. I can’t leave anyone to remember my face if I want this job to be my last. If I want to stop hiding from myself, and from Lysander’s memory.

Timms gave us our latest job, to kill the second in a drug ring, Robert Marco. I was barely sixteen then, and Lysander an aged eighteen. I was ready for this mission when Lysander stopped me.

“Let’s make this our last,” he said.

“What?” I asked him.

“Our last,” he replied. “Don’t you hunger for a normal life for us. To be able to love freely without worrying someone is after our heads. Don’t you want a life that doesn’t involve weapons and blood. Don’t you want a future that isn’t Timms’?”

I had never truly thought about it. This was my life, I knew no others. But Lysander had been normal until he was eight, and his parents murdered. He became an assassin to avenge them, but he never had. When he came about their murderer, he let the cops take him away. Lysander said it was to show his forgiveness.

But what Lysander told me of his happy past had made me ache for it a bit. A mother and father. A true love that was just that. A nice little house in the suburbs filled with children.

“Sure,” I said. “This can be our last.”

Ages’ was expecting someone. Not me, though. If he had been, he wouldn’t have been in the house. I approach him from behind.

“Long time, no see,” I say.

“Death Angel,” he said, recognizing my voice. “I thought you retired.”

“I can always do for a good kill Anthony.”

“I heard you could. What has happen to your Black Knight, surely he wouldn’t let you come alone.”

“You know what happened.”

“Humor me, my dear.”

“You killed him.”

“Ah, I recalled that I did. But you didn’t stop me.”

“Not then, but now I will.”

The mission had gone fine. We were in and ready to strike. I had Marco in sight, my dagger in my hand, ready to cut him from head to toe. But then, I saw his daughter. She was little, only about three. She was smiling at laughing at her father.

“Daddy, let’s play!” she demanded of him. He chuckled and agreed.

I should have killed him, even with the little girl watching. She would be too little to identify me, but not to forget her father was killed in front of her. Would she grow up like Lysander, bent on revenge? I couldn’t do that to this child, she was innocent. I delayed, for two hours. Finally, when the child was in bed, I killed him.

I rushed to my meeting place with Lysander, knowing he would be worried that I was so late. I was never late, for I had never shown this weakness. But I reveled tonight I had a soul. The child would be scared enough as it is.

Lysander was there, as was Ages. In the minute it took me to remember my voice, Lysander laid dead on the ground with a bullet from Ages’ gun in his heart. I threw my knife at the man, but my eyes blurred with tears and it missed terribly. I held Lysander in my arms all night, crying. I was bent on revenge then. But I remembered my promise to Lysander.

I left my career and started wandering. I would have remained doing so if Drake hadn’t found me this evening and asked me to do this. I am sorry Lysander. Please forgive me for all I have done. Please still love me, like I still love you.

It took less then a minute to end the old man’s life. He tried to shot me, but his hand isn’t as steady as it was two years ago. Seems he has been dipping more freely into his product. Or he knew that it was his end. Maybe Lysander knew it that night, maybe that is why he asked me to quit. I don’t know. The dead don’t tell tales. Upon his dead body I lean down and whisper in his ear.

“I forgive you.”

Within a week, I return home. It is night when I arrive, my favorite time of day. For it is were the world can hid and were I spent my time with Lysander, I lived for the night.

It is ironic that it is what normally holds secrets that will cause me to bare my soul to the world. I go to Lysander’s grave. It is the same as it was when I left, maybe a bit more worn down and the dirt not as fresh, but it is the same. I read the epitaph.

Lysander Collin Smith

1985-2003

May he rest in the peace he never found on Earth.

And may we all learn to forgive like he has.

I wrote it myself. It seemed like something Lysander would like. I hope he does. I hope he knows that everyone he loved came to his funeral. That even Timms cried, though he doesn’t admit it. And that maybe he knows that I was just trying to save a girl from his fate. I don’t know if he knows, but I have a feeling he does. I lay a red rose on it.

After that, I visit my mother’s grave. Hers is older. I don’t remember her funeral, as I was a newborn. I don’t remember her, but in pictures and stories. But I know enough to love and miss her. I read the script.

Alicia Emily Timms

1967-1987

May she remember she is loved

As a daughter, lover, and mother

And is never forgotten.

Timms wrote it, or should I say Grandfather. I know he misses her, and sees her in me. She was also an assassin that quit to have a family. I lay a white rose on her grave and walk away.

I walk about a block before I take my cell phone out to make a call. Knife hasn’t been following me lately. So Grandfather doesn’t know I am back. I call him. Though it is late, he answers.

“Simon Timms speaking,” his voice responds, gruff as ever. I hadn’t talked to him in two years, but I remember it.

“It’s me.” I reply.

“Ah, Death Angel, heard you finally got Ages.”

“That isn’t why I am calling you.”

“Then why are you?”

“Because I am your granddaughter and thought you would like to know where I am.”

“So you remember you are family. So were are you?”

“A block from the cemetery. I was visiting Mom and Lysander.”

“How are they.”

“Same as ever.”

“Do you want me to pick you up?”

“No, I think I am going to go visit Dad tonight.”

“Are you sure?”

“I think it is time.”

“I want you to know something.”

“What?”

“I love you and always have.”

“Same here. I will call you later.” I hang up. This is the first time we have said we loved each other. But it is the time for change, and I have to make another call. I dial the number.

“Drake Thomas speaking, how may I help you?” Drake says. I pause, not knowing what to say. He knows I completed the mission, he doesn’t need me to tell him that, so I can’t pretend that is my reason for calling. Might as well be blunt.

“Heather,” I say.

“Is that you?” he ask.

“Heather, my name is Heather,” I say simply.

“So that is your secret, this couldn’t wait to morning?”

“No, it couldn’t. That is only my first name. Would you like to hear the rest?”

“Sure, now that I am up.”

“I am Heather Marie Timms.”

“So your Timms’ granddaughter?”

“Correct.”

“Did you know your aunt Alicia?”

“No.”

“Well, she did die before you were born probably. Did Eric ever tell you about her?” Eric is my uncle’s name. My mother’s brother. He is still alive and an assassin, but he works abroad mostly.

“No. He never told me about my Aunt Alicia.” I am beginning to chicken out.

“Well, good night Death Angel, I mean Heather.” He is about to hang up, it is now or never.

“He didn’t tell me about my aunt, but he did tell me about my mother Alicia.” I have reveled it. The secret I never told Lysander. That I had a father who was still alive and knew me.

“Alicia was your mother?”

“Yes.”

“Then that means I am your...”

“Hi Daddy.”

“We need to talk. I will come and pick you up. Were are you?”

“The place were you met Mom.”

“I will be there in ten minutes, don’t move.”

“Okay.”

“Sweetie, I love you. I loved you even before I knew your secret.”

“Same here Dad.” We hang up.

Although I have been an assassin for years, Grandfather and Dad are treating me like a normal teen that has just come back from a tragic situation. And, I actually like it. Maybe this normal life thing will work out. And I think I hear Lysander’s voice say, “I forgive you.”