When I was young, I used to play cops and robbers with my friends, but I was always the robber. My friends told me that I had this look in my eyes that were "bad guy" eyes. I never understood them, until much later in my life.
Being an orphan at seven molded an independent woman out of me, but it had its defaults as well. I'm not the most social person in the world, which is a problem when trying to go to any parties. I've always had this natural talent to lead and could be as guile as I wanted in any situation. All right, maybe I'm just not gullible- no matter. Point is that I found the perfect profession for myself. Not only am I my own boss, but also the money pays enormously well.
To the public, I own a well-known high-class restaurant with a fancy bar on the second floor. To others, I used to be known as an assassin for hire. How did I come about this little side job? It began when I wanted to know more about my past. Let's just say that I got myself in a bit of trouble and ended up teaming with another assassin. He trained me and promises that one day he'll be back to test my skills. Knowing him, it will be a life or death test… not something to look forward to. His name? I've known him as Kevin, although that is not always the name he goes by.
I was an assassin for hire for almost eight years. When nothing about my family appeared, I retired from the side job and continued the restaurant. There was no reason to quit the restaurant. I already had a well-known and respectable crew I could count on and I could still use my old contacts to find out any information about my family. The only problem was that no one seemed to understand the meaning of "retire". For almost a half a year I have been out of the assassin business and have turned away over a dozen customers.
Even now, I sit in the office of my restaurant listening to yet another customer who wants to hire me. At first, I had refused to see him, but the client was so persistent and seemed to really need my services. Thus, I led him and his two goons into my office for more privacy. Besides, the offer he had was actually quite intriguing. He said that I would get something much more valuable added to my sum of money.
The man's name was Louis Integway. He was a short man with scruffy brown hair that he tried to paste down with gel. He wore a simple black business suite and I could only guess that his shoes were as shiny and neat as the rest of his outfit. I could see the crease a little too well as if this was the first time the suite was worn. His eyes gave away too much and it made me wonder how he survived in the business world. Sitting down, he posed himself as taller, but when he had first walked in the door, he stood at about five foot four. His skin color was pasty, but I could see that light make-up had been added to his face to help. Surprisingly, the make-up did help.
The bodyguard on his right, introduced as Lance, wore an unusual smile. He wore a gray suite of the same design as Louis, only with sunglasses. The glasses didn't have to stay on in my dark office, but both of them refused to take them off. Who was I to argue with their style? Lance was a tall and buff man, but not so buff that it was overdone. His muscles looked proportioned to his body, unlike the other bodyguard. Strangely, Lance and I had seen each other before in the past when doing business with clients or attending some special parties. Yet, we never spoke to each other and he always wore those sunglasses. I liked his hair; it was slick, yet added a boyish look to his manly features.
The man on the left went by the name of Flex. Yes, Flex. I didn't laugh, but boy did I come close to it. His handshake was firm and he outweighed not only me, but Lance as well. To have muscles like that all over his body and still fit into the gray suite was definitely magic. I would have never been able to fit in it and still look comfortable. His hair was black, just like Lance's. In fact, both of the bodyguards looked exactly the same except for their size. Made me wonder if they were brothers or not. If I had to pick between the two, Lance was definitely the better-looking one. Of course, I wouldn't tell either one of them that little fact.
"Miss Miyamoto, you have a reputation that's bigger than the oceans on this Earth." Louis smiled, placing his hand on his cane.
"I hope that's a good thing, but Mr. Integway, don't believe everything you hear." I glanced at his cane and noted that it had no uniqueness to it. Just a normal black cane with a gold, metal ball on top. I sat slowly in my chair to face him across the desk. The cane should have looked more expensive to match the rest of his outfit.
"Actually, it is a good thing and I hope that everything is true. You are known as Death to some, Jendayi Miyamoto." He looked at me very closely, I suppose for effect or something.
"Ok, so you like my reputation and you probably want my help on something. There are two things that give both you and me some trouble."
"And what's that?" He looked worried for a moment.
"I'm no longer for hire." A puzzled look crossed his face, so I continued. "I retired from the business a half a year ago. I guess word still hasn't spread far enough."
"This is unexpected."
I tried not to sound impatient, but I had other clients with appointments waiting outside. Those clients were for my restaurant business. "Please understand, Mr. Integway, I can't help you. Although, I can refer you to-"
"Ms. Miyamoto, I specifically need you for this job. There is no one else I trust for this job."
I sighed, "Even if I was to take this job, I have a strict rule to never meet the client face to face. I had a handler who took care of the meetings. Think of it as a way to keep my face and my identity on the low down."
"Still, I think you could break the rule just this one time. I will triple the amount and if you accept the job, I have a special bonus that is worth more to you than money." He took a file out of his jacket and I had to resist the urge to reach for my gun as he did so.
My 9mm gun was tucked neatly in its shoulder holster on my right. I'm left handed, but recently I've been training with my right. There had been too many times when I'd damaged my left hand and needed to shoot someone to save my sorry ass. I only let it happen twice before I did something to change the weakness. Luckily, Louis took the folder out slowly so I had time to see that it was simply a folder and not a gun or something. Maybe he did it out of habit or just being cautious. Yea, cautious is more like it. Being in this business you couldn't afford not to be cautious.
"How do you know what is worth more to me than money, hm?"
"Just take a look at the file." He said.
I sighed again and motioned for him to give me the folder. He slid the folder across the desk as I slid it off to pick it up. I leaned back in the black leather chair and opened the file. There was a picture of a man inside with no name, just an address. I usually like to know the name of the target, so it bugged me that this man was now a nameless man.
"Who is he?" I put the folder back down and slid it back across the table. A photographic memory can do wonders.
"Do you really need to know? You have a picture of what he looks like and an address. That should be enough to complete the job." He seemed offended, but he could bite me if he wanted to. I wanted a name and he was going to give it to me or else I was going to refuse the damn job.
"Mr. Integway, I have strict rules. I am already about to break one of my most major ones." He apparently was as stubborn as I was, so I tried to make a joke out of it. "I need to have a name to add to my wall of death."
Louis laughed; he actually laughed at my poor attempt of a joke! Maybe he wasn't so bad after all… but I've been wrong before. I still didn't really want to take the job. Something told me that breaking one of the golden rules my teacher had stressed about this business was a bad idea.
"My, my. You'll have to show me this wall sometime."
"I would, but your name would be added to the wall shortly after you've seen it." Did I really have a wall of death? No, I actually had a memory of death that stored all of the information somewhere deep inside of my brain, out of reach. Less evidence if someone decided to accidentally raid my office without a warrant.
He didn't laugh this time, and I think he took me seriously. That brought a very big grin on my face, which made Lance and Flex stand alert. Flex actually took a small step forward and brought his jacket back to let me get a glimpse of his nice big gun. Like I care. I knew very well that he would never make a full complete draw by the time I had mine out to blow his brains all over my nice green walls.
"A name." I put my hands on the table to show that I wasn't going to try and kill anyone. See? I'm a good little angel. I won't use my gun to blow anyone's brains out. Yeah, right. Flex didn't ease back, which made me think less of him. He was too tense for this job and would probably put a bullet in my head for sneezing.
"Raven." Louis crossed his arms over his chest, his cane leaning against his leg. "And no I don't know what his last name is, so don't bother asking."
"Raven." I repeated, "I've heard that name before. I think he is the young man who has just taken over a huge company. Hmm, no one really knows much about him." I didn't mean to really say that out loud, but I'm used to talking to myself.
"Exactly, and I want him dead. Are you going to take the job or not?" Gee, I guess I really ruined his good mood with my unintentional threat. All well, won't ruin my day.
"Sure, but since I have to do my own research, you have to pay seventy-five percent of the cost now." I leaned back, taking the picture out of the file again.
"Fine. Whatever it takes, Miss Miyamoto."
"And what about the bonus you mentioned before?" The bonus is what interested me the most anyway.
Louis smiled, "Word is that you are still looking for clues about your family. If this job is completed, I may have a lead for you to follow."
I tried to hide the anticipation from my face, but some of it leaked out in my voice. "Seriously?" As he nodded, I smiled back at him, "Until the job is complete then."
"Until then… just make sure you do it and do it quickly. If you take too long, I just may retract the bonus."
I raised my eyebrows at him and resisted the urge to ask him why he wanted this man dead. Never ask stupid questions, it will get you killed. I nodded and pulled out a paper from a stack of papers on the desk. I always kept the contracts on top to keep jumpy bodyguards from thinking it was a gun or something else that may bring harm to them. I slid the paper over to Louis and he signed it without reading anything. I never signed anything without reading every word first. I did that once and ended up missing the part that said I would not be paid. That job was fun, but the fun wasn't worth how much ammo it took to kill the guy and his gang. I didn't do charity work unless it involved promoting my restaurant.
I stood when Louis stood and offered him my hand. He took it and smiled as I ushered him to the door. I kept the bodyguards in my sight the entire time… practice makes perfect. Flex bumped me slightly while exiting and I would have said some smart remark but Lance stopped in front of me, still smiling.
"It's been a pleasure, Miss Miyamoto. I hope to see you again." He nodded his head slightly, his glasses slipping down his nose a little to let me see his eyes. The color of his eyes took me by surprise, but I didn't let it show. Brownie point for me. One eye was blue and the other green. He apparently was disappointed by my lack of reaction, but I smiled back anyway. Now the sunglasses made sense.
"As long as it's a meeting without either of us looking down a barrel of a gun, it would be fine."
Lance gave a small laugh and walked out. I watched him leave, wondering if he was just pulling my strings or if he was actually flirting. It didn't matter. I had a restaurant to run and a man to kill. But my curiosity always got the best of me… and I had that bonus as a goal. As soon as I closed up for the night, I began researching on this man named Raven. Only thing was… I couldn't find a damn thing about him.