Fatal Target

Prologue

August 25th

Hot.

That was the only word that came to mind as he stepped out into the blistering summer heat in his five thousand dollar suit.

People said he was rotting in hell, but out here in the sun, everyone else was roasting in hell. Blasted bright sun.

Using his hand to shield his dark eyes from the orange fireball, he reached into his pocket for his sunglasses. He sighed as he slipped the dark shades on. Much better.

Except for the heat.

He took a deep breath of the muggy air. The last time he had breathed non-stale air outside a fence line had been almost three years ago. Three years of his life lost to riots, horrible food, foul-smelling inmates, and a small cell.

Three years stolen from him by a teenage brat.

His hands balled into fists. She had thought she was so smart as she sat on the witness stand, her ice-blue eyes tearing on cue. It was her testimony that put him away.

Society had cheered. Justice, in their puny minds, was served.

As if those idiots knew the first thing about justice…

He had his own plan for justice. Some undereducated fools would refer to it as a revenge scheme.

A black SUV rolled to a stop. He started to grin.

He walked towards the SUV, grateful to be out of the sun. He slipped into the passenger seat, reaching for the air-conditioning controls before he even pulled the car door shut.

The cold air smacked him in the face. Ah, yes. Now this was more like freedom.

“How are we doing today, Boss?” inquired his driver as the Suburban pulled away.

“Tell me where she is and I’ll let you know.”

“With her father, of course. He never lets her out of his sight. Intel says she now works at J. Carter and Associates as a security consultant.”

He grumbled a curse.

“She seems to have forgotten all about you, Boss. She’s even going back to school—“

“And so are you,” he snapped at his employee. “You are going to bring me Katherine Robertson.”

His employee glanced over. “Really? Katherine?”

“Yes. You bring me the brat. I don’t care what it takes—I just need her alive.”

“So, I can—“

“Do whatever you want, just bring her to me alive. She’s no good to me dead.”

“Okay, Boss.”

Jonathan Weiss relaxed into the leather seat, a wide smile on his face. He was free and soon—very soon—Katherine Robertson would be little more than a memory.

A very bloody, dismembered memory.

Author’s Notes:

So this is the rework of Fatal Target. After I corrected Coldest Degree, I realized that cutting the trial affected the beginning of Fatal Target and since my own move was cancelled, locating the next novel in Georgia was out of the question. Plus, with the VA Tech shooting, I was no longer comfortable setting the novel at a real college.

This version of Fatal Target takes place in Maryland, at a fake college in a real city. Also, there are a few changes in family relationships, which are noticeable in the next chapter.

As always, please read and review and constructive crit is welcome! Enjoy!