asset [h.s.]

one // the mission

note: the name 'alicia' in this story is pronounced like 'a-liss-ee-uh'

Harry

The heat from the morning sun continues to create a thin layer of sweat glistening across my skin as it beams down on me, causing me to reach up and wipe a hand across my brow every so often. The metal of the gun that I had slid into the waistband of my jeans earlier seems to be just as hot as the sun beating down on me, the heat from its recent use searing through to my skin. The sound of my boots slapping against the solid concrete of the pavement fills my ears and makes it the only sound I can hear other than my heavy breathing. Other than that, everything around me is pretty quiet.

As I walk, I slowly reach down and unzip the black duffel bag slung over my shoulder. My fingers brush against the remaining bullets inside and I count in twos to find that I only have 14 left. With at least 30 packed this morning and most of the bullets I fired today successfully hitting the target I was aiming for, that's quite a lot of people down. Shrugging off the thought, I pull the gun from my waistband and carelessly shove it inside the bag before zipping it back up.

It's probably a good thing that no one seems to be around because of the current state I'm in. Blood is splattered here and there along my jeans and shirt, as well as patches of dried blood stained onto my hands and underneath my fingernails. Luckily, none of it is mine so I'm not worried that much. A satisfied smirk pulls at my lips as I realize that I managed to get out of the chaos I endured earlier without so much as a scratch.

It takes no time before I'm nearing the small office that Liam, my friend / colleague, and I share. Although it's mostly where he does his work as he's some computer whiz and I prefer to be outside running around with a gun in my hand, always one to be involved in the action. I met Liam when I first joined the mafia and he's been a good friend of mine for all these years. We somehow clicked straight away despite the fact that we're complete opposites. But Liam is smart, extremely smart, and none of this would work without him. He's a lot more useful than I care to admit.

He's basically the only real friend I have in the mafia and I know it all comes down trust. The men in the mafia, just like me, know that no matter how hard it is, we can't trust anyone. Of course we pretend to, we have to while we're working together, but all of us know that if it came down to it, we'd save our own ass above anyone else. And as the days go by, as we're betrayed and almost killed by people we thought were allies, the list of people we trust gets shorter.

Mine is almost completely empty.

Once reaching the door to the small office which is basically hidden in the middle of nowhere, I use my shoulder to push the door open. Nodding my head over in Liam's direction, I immediately walk over to the wardrobe in the corner and swiftly pull it open, tossing in the duffel, pulling out a new pair of clothes and heading into the tiny bathroom to clean myself up. Once I'm back to my normal state, sans the blood-stained clothes, I grab a beer from the mini fridge and crack it open as I throw myself down on a chair, kicking off my shoes carelessly.

"So," Liam suddenly says, turning away from whatever he was typing on the computer to face me. "How many people did you kill today?"

"A lot." I tell him with a small smirk as he rolls his eyes. Seeing as he's partly the brains behind our organization, he doesn't really like to know what else goes on other than his work behind the scenes. He doesn't really ask what I do whenever I go out on a job, although that doesn't stop me from reciting it to him and adding in all the grimy details. I understand how killing people could be a strange idea if you're not used to it, but I am. I'm so used to it that it's just a normal part of my life now.