DICE (MXM) (Sample)

Chapter One

"Barrett, the target is on the move."

Barret sat patiently atop a sixty-story building, playing a bout of candy crush while waiting for the call. The starry night sky was washed out from the lights of the bustling city, which seemed to be as busy at night as it was during the day. When the call finally came, he shoved his phone into his pocket and pressed his eye to the scope of his rifle. Once in position, he put a hand to his ear.

"Copy. I'm in position."

Through the scope, he looked into a large window of a business building. A man walked into an empty room, his private office. Typically, they didn't know much about their targets, but Barrett knew all about this man. He didn't have strong feelings towards killing, but this...this made him excited.

The man loosened the tie around his neck and collapsed into his chair. As he took a deep breath, Barrett pulled the trigger leaving the man dead within a second.

"Target executed." He packed up his gear and left the roof. The Dice clean-up crew would be there in a few minutes to clean up the body.

Once on the street, he found a black car waiting for him, his partner, Wilson, in the driver's seat.

"One less of those bastards to worry about," he commented.

"Yeah."

"I just want Briggs dead."

Barrett nodded in agreement. Everyone who had been through what he and Wilson went through as kids, wanted Briggs dead. Assassin or not.

"Have our next assignment yet?"

"We get a few days off, so enjoy it. But don't forget, the first Dice inauguration banquet is tomorrow. You have to be there."

"Yeah. Yeah." Barrett hated any type of social event, but he hated ones where he had no idea what to expect the most.

"And you need to wear a suit." Wilson laughed while Barrett rolled his eyes. They practically owned nothing but suits. They had to wear suits while working, and they rarely got a day off to allow them to wear normal civilian clothing.

They drove to a gated city just outside of Washington, D.C. The city, known as Horae, housed Dice, and all of the business and inner working of the organization. It was, in a sense, its own city, its own community within a city.

The security guard checked their ID's before opening the gate. Wilson parked in a parking garage off of their apartment building. Instead of entering the building, they crossed the street and went into a bar called The Grape Skin. There was some quiet chatter among the customers, but most were listening to the live band playing. The Grape Skin had a band come on every night. Usually, the talent was from inside Horae, but sometimes they came from outside the city.

"Welcome, Barrett. Wilson." The bartender greeted with a nod of his head.

They took a seat at the bar while the bartender prepared their usual's: a snakebite for Wilson, and water for Barrett. Wilson downed his drink in one gulp and slammed the glass down with a heavy gasp.

"You guys on tomorrow, too?" the bartender, Zaid, asked.

"No. We have tomorrow off except for that banquet, which Barrett is looking forward to." He pat his back teasingly. "Give me another."

He poured him another drink. Before he could gulp it down, the doors to the bar slammed open as a young man fell through them. He crawled, frantic, across the floor, trying to escape the angry boot headed for his ass. A woman wearing a black suit with a white crop top underneath her blazer kicked him in the stomach, pulled a gun from the holster on her hip and pointed it at his head. The music stopped, and everyone watched the event unfold, curious about the outcome. This wasn't an unusual occurrence at The Grape Skin, considering the majority of its customers were assassins.