Assassination 101

Lesson 4: Plates and Vases

Lesson 4: Plates and Vases

Today was the day. The day where it all began.

Exams were over and we were free until results came out. I knew I'd aced all my exams so I wasn't concerned but I couldn't say the same for all of my peers. Despite the obvious worry on some of their faces, tears were still shed and fond exchanges were still made.

After a long few hours, it was almost time and I couldn't help the smirk on my features. Everyone had planned to go for a meal at a nearby restaurant to celebrate our last day together and we were finally heading there.

My classmates laughed and enjoyed their last few hours together, oblivious that for some these would be their last few hours period.

Luca and I had planned everything to a tee and he'd kept an eye from afar to ensure everything ran smoothly today. I pretended to enjoy to mindless chatter and gossip spewed my way, bantering along with everyone else. They didn't seem to notice my change in demeanour and willingness to converse with them, probably pegging my different attitude as a fondness for school when in reality I was just playing my cover.

Every so often, I glanced at the clock hung at the back of the crowded room and as soon as it struck eight the door slammed open. Perfect.

Four armed men stormed into the restaurant, black ski masks covering their faces and guns in their hands. Panic had quickly spread across the room, people hiding and ducking under tables for cover. I played along, pretending to be petrified like everyone else, watching the scene before me unfold in 'terror'.

The tallest and most buff guy stepped forward, his voice gravelly as he shouted at the innocent crowd. "Where the fuck is she?"

No one said anything, all too confused and stunned to reply. He turned his murderous glare to the hostess hiding behind her podium. "You heard me, where is she?" he growled louder, aiming his gun and shooting at the ceiling lights, glass shattering and spreading across the floor.

The petite woman trembled, her tight black curls quivering with her. "I-I-I don't k-know who yo-you're ta-talking about," she stuttered, quaking in fear.

He took a threatening step towards her, grabbing a fistful of her thick hair to pull her upwards. "Avery Whitmore, we know she's here," he spat out venomously.

Avery squeaked from beside me, retreating further under the wooden table. She was your classic bitch, the so-called queen of the school with lots of minions blindly following her every command. She was faker than the bright orange tan that coated her skin and had an equally disgusting attitude to compliment it. I had a sickening satisfaction in knowing that it was her they were after, maybe I'd deviate from the plan and let her die.

"I-I d-d-don't know w-who that is," she insisted desperately, tears streaming down her face. He looked at her disbelievingly and she started to grovel frantically. "Honest. I-I really don't know."

Without warning, he pulled the gun from the holster on his belt and held it to her temple. Gripping her harshly by the arm, he jerked her forward so she was in full view of everyone in the restaurant. "Avery," he taunted. "Come out, come out wherever you are or else this poor girl is going to have to pay the price." The girl who couldn't have been any older than twenty-two was shaking violently in his arms but not attempting to escape. Smart.

I looked over at Avery, silently begging with my eyes that she stepped forward but she shook her head immediately, refusing without a second thought. Of course.

"Time is running out, Avery. I'm going to count down from ten and if I don't see you she dies," he threatened mockingly, beginning his countdown at a cruelly slow pace.