The Puppet Assassin - Ch 1 [the assistant -|- dizelde]

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The Puppet Assassin

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"I am prepared to die, but there is no cause for which I am prepared to kill."  

- Mahatma Ghandi  

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Chapter One  

The Assistant | Dizelde  

_________________________

Location: Unknown  

Date: November 2nd, 2065

"You have seventeen minutes, Diz, before I come in and pull your ass out," said the furious voice in my earpiece.

"Good luck with that," I muttered to myself. He wouldn't hear me. The earpiece only went one way. Twenty more seconds and I would have had this door unlocked but Morse, my superior for this mission, had interrupted my train of thought and now I had to start again. I should be quicker this time because I nearly had the pattern of the lock worked out.

After eight minutes the lock snapped open and I pushed the door open, relieved that it didn't creak. Now I just had to find the guard I'd been tagged to and take him out before he raised the alarm when he realised that Kieran, my teammate and higher-ranking assassin, was within the building and taking out the guard's boss. He was seventeen, a year older than me, and this was his first 'kill' mission. I swallowed hard and prayed with all my might that he followed through with the assassination and that his superior wouldn't have to interfere.

"Six minutes, Dizelde," Morse barked. "If you don't make it this time I'll have to report you to Scythe."

It felt as if frost had crept over my skin and made my heart skip a beat. That name, purely hearing the sound of his name, made me tremble in fear. Scythe was The Boss. The head assassin, the one who had taken me in from the orphanage. He Saw potential in people whom others would abandon without a second glance. I still remember my first meeting with him, as a four year old, his eyes an icy blue, close to being white. He had whispered my last name, Beaumont, and lifted me up into his muscular arms so that our eyes were level, my dusty gold ones to his blue. I hadn't flinched then, when he'd looked at me, but stared in amazement that somebody was actually touching me, and not so that they could kick me or throw me across the room, yelling that 'the apple never falls too far from the tree'. But he had held me in the circle of his arms and strode out of that hellish place, not even stopping when the Matron protested.

For six years he had given me a childhood. There weren't many others my age so I spent most of the time alone but I had a large imagination and could entertain myself. The house was surrounded by large trees that I climbed when my nanny wasn't looking. I would always get in trouble afterwards but Scythe always looked at me with pride when I told him how high I went. He wasn't my real father, I knew that my birth-father resided in the time before I was three, a time I had absolutely no memory of. But he was the only man in my life who took care of me and gave me treats. I grew to love him, which made the second half of my childhood truly horrendous.

I hadn't been blind to what took place in the field just down the road since I was seven. Scythe had spent most of his time there and this had brought me to become curious. When I'd asked him he'd said that I was too young to know. But I had persisted, I was stubborn and my imagination was providing me with all sorts of interesting possibilities. I had believed that he was keeping something joyous down there; he always came back looking cheerful and accomplished. So I had snuck after him one day, or I had attempted. I'd barely made it a foot out of the property before he looked directly toward the bush I was hiding behind and called me out. But he'd allowed me to follow him that day and my innocent mind was introduced to the concept of 'assassination'.

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