Zayn and I arrived at the hotel. The ride was quiet. Stan came and got us from the park. I didn't want him to know exactly where we really were. Zayn didn't like lying to him, but I couldn't involve someone else. I still wasn't really sure if he fully trust me. But, he really didn't have a choice.
Zayn jumped out of the car and walked ahead of me into the hotel. Stan stated he had to help with the security layout for the concert tonight. So, he left without questioning us. Zayn zipped over to the elevator, as if he was trying to get away from me. I also strolled through the lobby rather quickly. However, I was flagged down by the front desk clerk.
"Ms. Walker, your father left a package here for you." The clerk said.
I grabbed the package and read the address label. It was labeled: Emily Walker, Room 614.
"Are you sure this is mines," I asked, pointing to the room number.
"Of course," the clerk said, smiling. "He was in a hurry and must have wrote the wrong number."
I smiled and took the package. I caught up with Zayn in the elevator. The awkward silence was killing me. Then, he spoke.
"So Ms. Walker, who's the package from?"
"My fath..." I stopped, as Zayn frowned. I sighed, "...My contact."
Zayn nodded, biting the inside of his mouth. I was trying my hardest not to lie to him again. It was ridiculously hard. I lie for a living. But, I needed him to trust me. The elevator stopped and he followed me to my room. I opened my door and place the package on the desk.
"So, what's in it," Zayn probed. "It's not going to blow, is it?"
I crenched, shaking my head. "Why would it?"
He shrugged, "I don't know what you guys send each other."
My hand collided with my forehead. Who does he think I am? James Bond, girl edition. Zayn was hovering over the package. Eyeing it, like it was explosive. I pushed him onto the bed. He flapped down and leaned on his elbows. Relax. I thought to myself. It's not a damn bomb, silly.
I shook my head, "I'm already telling you more than I should. This isn't a cinema. It doesn't work like that. Knowing too much really could get you killed."
I sat on the chair near the desk and opened the package. It was a small DVD player and a typed note.
The note read:
Hey 'Emily'.
If you're reading this, that means you're still alive. Congratulations. I knew you would. I wish it didn't come to this. I wish I was there to help you. But I can't. I can't help you with this. I found the original target. Your target isn't any of those boys. Not a manager or an agent or even their security. The target is you. It always was you. You've been burned.
Someone at The Company set you up, switching rooms so you wouldn't know. And for that, I'm sorry. I don't know who changed your room number, but you should thank them. I knew something was wrong when you was assigned this case. Hopefully, I found all those discrepancies in the case, like you asked. If only you had someone as good as me to break them for you.
It was the luck of the cards determining which guy ended up in that room. But, I knew you was smarter than that. You could never kill an innocent person. You would protect them. Like you are suppose to. I found a few video here at The Company that might interest you. It will help determine who sent the hit. Just warning you that you might not like what you see. You're my best girl, my favorite. I'm going to miss you and I'm glad you got a fighting chance. Good luck. And watch your back. No one is not what they seem.
- J
My mouth dropped. So did the letter. Zayn tried talking to me but I couldn't get the DVD player out the box fast enough. There were three clips on there. I pressed play and we watched the first video.
It was John's office. Several individuals lurking in and out of his office. Two people caught my attention. One was Aaron. He went straight to John's computer and was searching for something. Then, he downloaded it onto a flash drive and exited. The second one was a rather large man. He wore a baseball cap and never looked at the camera. He looked familiar, but I couldn't remember where I've seen him before. He was roaming through John's desk and his computer. Then, he exited.
"And...what am I watching?" Zayn asked.
"I don't know yet."
"Why did he send you...."
I interrupted, "Are you going to talk the whole time?"
He sulked, "Well that was very rude...and you didn't answer my question."
I rolled my eyes, ignoring him. Zayn picked up the letter from my lap and read it.
"So wait...I'm not the target." He asked, smiling to himself. "Does that mean I'm in the clear?"
"Not even close, my friend. You were in the room we were all told. Only the real killer knows its me. Basically, I'm a target, too."
"But that's not what this says..."
"Zayn," I yelled. "People are trying to kill you because they think you are me."
"They think I'm a girl," he gasped.
"No. Focus." I shook my head. "Ugh....This was so much easier when I was sweet little Delilah."
"Yeah," Zayn sighed, threwing the letter onto the bed. "When is she coming back?"
I turned away, angry that he would even say that. I bottled it up and finished watching the other video clips.
The second video was Aaron in his lab. John was talking to him about me. Then, John left. Aaron took a handmade magnet and scanned it over the computers, before leaving as well. What was he covering up? He must have found something, and needed to clean the computers to protect me. He is always covering his tracks.
Zayn leaned forward, "Who's that?"
I smiled, "Aaron."
"Oh, your boyfriend," he mumbled.
"He's not my boyfriend. Just a friend."
"Yeah well, I bet he know more about you than me." He groaned.
"I really need you not to be jealous right now," I told him.
Zayn sat on the bed, staring at me. I just stared back.
"What?" I yelled.
He sighed, "Don't yell at me."
"I'm not yelling." I sighed. "You asked for the real me and this is it. I'm trying my hardest to be the girl you want and the girl I am. But she ain't real. She ain't me. Hell, you weren't even suppose to know my real name."
"Delilah's your real name?" He smiled. "I like it."
"I bet." I said, rolling my eyes.
"Well, I do want to know about you. The real you?"
I chuckled, "No, you don't. You want to know about her."
"No. Just you. I mean, I can't really trust you if I don't know you." Zayn smirked. "So uh...tell me about Delilah. Like, the real Delilah. Like...where are you from? What's your favorite food?.....What's your favorite gun?"
I laughed. I placed the DVD player on the desk, then turned to face Zayn. I was kinda annoyed, yet glad he was interested. Or, at least he pretended to be.
"Not really much to tell, " I began, coldly. "I don't have any family. I don't know where I'm from. And, my favorite gun is a KSC Glock 17...I was raised to be the best and that's what I am."
Zayn slowly blinked his eyes. He looked shock and amused, at the same time.
I continued, "I'm a professional hit woman. An expert in my trade. I'm trained in 7 different styles of martial arts and 5 other fighting and combat skills. I speak 67 different languages, including 3 dead languages. I'm a weapons and explosives expert. A master of disguise. And, I can kill you faster with my hands than I can with a gun. I don't make friends because one day I just might have to kill them. Or worst, they get killed for knowing me. It's just easier to have no attachments. No feelings. No one to get hurt."
He sat in silence, but too quiet. I think I scared him. Not exactly my intention.
I tapped his knee, "Say something, Zayn."
"Wow...uh...I don't really have a response to that."
"Yeah...and that's also why I don't have friends."
He sighed, "Seems lonely."
"Not really," I frowned. "I'm a cold-blooded killer. I get a mark. I complete a job. Who would want to be friends with me?"
"So like...I'm just a mark to you?"
I stared blankly, "No. Not anymore."
I picked up the DVD player, to finish watching the other video, when someone knocked at my door. Zayn was startled. I paused the video and grabbed my small pistol. I tiptoed to the door.
"Is that necessary?" He whispered.
I shushed him and looked through the peephole. I was relieved to see who it was. I hide the pistol in the back of my pants and opened my door, smiling.
"Pleasure seeing you again, Niall," I said.
"Hey D. Have ya seen Zayn? He missed rehearsal this morning."
I nodded and invited him into my room. Zayn looked worried. I wasn't. I was more concerned what Zayn might tell him. I mean, Zayn can't keep secrets from his best friend. But this one had to stay ours.
"What's wrong, Zayn? You look like you seen a ghost."
Zayn looked at me, before he spoke.
"Nah, just wasn't expecting you." He faked a smile.
Niall smiled, tackling Zayn on my bed. The letter from the package crumbled under his elbow.
"What's this?" He asked, picking it up.
Zayn snatched the letter from his hands, "Stop tryna read other people's mail."
"Don't worry. I don't want to read ya love letters." Niall joked.
Zayn and I faintly laughed, as he handed me the letter. I folded it and put it back in the box.
"I covered for ya, mate." Niall stated. "Telling folks you was a bit under the weather. But I didn't know you was shagging the misses."
"What? Who told you that?" Zayn snapped.
"Harry."
"Of course," I laughed, shaking my head. "If shagging means we went for a walk this morning and lost track of time, then yeah. We did."
Niall smiled, "You don't have to tell me anything ya did. But you two better be at the concert tonight or Paul's going Rambo on ya."
"Oh, don't worry. We'll be there." I replied.
"Good." Niall said, standing up. "I'm going back to my room for some Z's. Call me in about an hour."
Zayn stood up to give him a hug. Niall lifted him for a second, jokingly. I was startled. I jumped back, accidentally hit the play button on the DVD player. The last video began to play. It was the torture chamber with Aaron. I quickly paused the video. It froze on the man sitting in front of Aaron. Niall glanced at the player.
"Hey, I didn't know Stan was in a movie." He said.
I looked at the video, pointing to the guy in the chair. "This guy? Are you sure?"
"Yeah. That's him." Niall laughed, jabbing Zayn. "Remember how the lads used to joked about his ol' hoodie? Same one."
He pointed to the hoodie from the same guy. The man in the chair, across from Aaron. The shooter. The one that must die.
"Is Stan, by any chance, Italian?"
"No, but he does a wicked Godfather."
My nose flared, as I stared at the figure on the screen. I was fuming. Ready to destroy everything and everyone in sight. I think Zayn saw that in my eyes. He looked frightened.
"Uh...I think I'ma gonna go with ya to your room." He told Niall. "Delilah needs to talk to Paul about tonight, anyway."
"Okay," Niall stated. "And, we can tell Stan how we saw him in one of his movies."
I smirked, "No. Let's surprise him later with it, okay?"
"Sure." He said, adding, "Oooh, this will be funny. The lads will get a kick out of it."
I walked the guys to the door. Zayn didn't even look back as he headed out my room. I don't blame him. I still wasn't in his good graces. He'll understand that I was doing the right thing. Eventually. I sighed, closing my door. It jammed against something. I looked down; It was a foot. The door swung open and Zayn grabbed my hips, pulling me towards him. He wrapped his arms around me, burying his face in my neck. It was so sudden. I wasn't sure if he wanted me to hug him back. Niall stood in the hall watching. I stood there, kinda helpless. Waiting for some kind of indication that he wanted me to touch him. Finally, I went for it. I gently placed my hand on the back of his head; the other over his shoulder.
Zayn squeezed tighter and whispered, "Be careful. I want to see you later."
I nodded. I closed my eyes as he kissed my forehead, just before leaving with Niall. Be careful indeed. Aaron's killer was closer than I thought. Not to mention, the killer's elite team. I was not going to let him get away with it. Not only was he playing a friend with my target, but he killed my best friend, too. He must be eliminated, along with the others, before tonight's festivities. So much to plan, so little time. I knew I should have killed him when I first met him. No worries. His time will come. He will see the end of my barrel, if it's the last thing I do.
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*About an Hour Later*
"Frank, you are awesome." I boasted.
He laughed, "You better hope this works. You don't have much time to get it done."
"Nah, it's plenty of time. I'll take care of this little problem and be back for the concert. No sweat."
"If you say so."
My plan was completed and ready for execution. It was still pretty early and I wanted to see Zayn before I started. Sadly, he and the others left to prepare for the concert. I called his cell phone, but no answer. I decided to call Niall's phone. Luckily, he had his phone on him.
"Zayn? Yeah, he's at mic check." He said.
"Okay," I said scorned. "Just let him know I'll..."
"Wait," he interrupted. "Here he comes...Yo, Zayn. It's D."
Zayn tried to ask Niall why I didn't call his phone. Niall was too busy making kissing sounds to answer him. Silly.
"Hey, vas happening." Zayn yelled, loudly in my ear. "Are ya on ya way?"
I laughed, "Not quite. I have a few errands to run."
"By errands, you mean..."
"Yes, I mean errands."
I emphasized on the word 'errands'. Zayn paused. He knew exactly what I meant.
He sighed, losing the joyfulness in his voice. "I thought you weren't going to lie to me anymore."
"I'm not," I replied. "Just because I can't tell you exactly where I'm going and what I'm doing, doesn't mean I'm lying to you. I'm protecting you. That's all you need to know."
"All I need to know is that you're still going to be here."
"The only way I'll miss this concert is if I'm dead." I joked. "I'll be there."
But I wasn't joking. It was a fact. If this doesn't work, I'm sure to have a few bullets in my chest. And, one in my head, just in case. I really stuck my neck out this time and every inch of my body knew it. Somehow, Zayn knew I wasn't joking either. He faked a chuckle.
"Don't worry. I'll be there by 2pm, on the dot. Not a minute later." I assured him.
"Yeah, alright," he said. "Just...be here. Okay?"
"I'll be there..."
I tried to persuade him in believing I would be there. Honestly, I didn't believe it myself. Too much was at stake. My life. His life. His bandmates. And, time. Timing was everything. It determined life or death for everyone. My clocks was set and nothing was holding me back.
"...I gotta go, Zayn."
"Right," He whispered. Uh...Delilah?"
I stopped. I could hear him tearing up, in the background. This could possibly be the last time we speak. The last thing he says. I was ready for anything. Anything...but those final words.
"...I love you..."
I. Love. You. My confidence was ruined. My shield had shattered. My heart began to pound in my chest. Rapid and heavy. My head was spinning and my skin was on fire. I wanted to tell him. He needed to know.
Stay focus, Delilah. Don't crumble. Keep it together. I repeated in my head. I can't fail. I won't fail. But, he needs to know. Should I tell him? Let him know how much I care about him? How I'm doing this all for him? No, he needs to concentrate on this concert. Not on me. And, I need to concentrate on my mission. On my task. I must remain emotionless. If only....If only I had listened to myself.
"...I...I...I love you too, Zayn...I gotta go...I'll see you soon." I whispered, quickly hanging up the phone.
Zayn was calling out my name, as I press 'end call'. I couldn't. I didn't want to wait for any more surprises. One was enough. I couldn't take it. He loves me. He loves me? He can't love me. I just cant. So many emotions stated to flood to the surface. I don't need this. No, I can't. I need I focus. There wasn't much time. I can't fail. I won't fail. I needed to do this. I needed to finish what I started. I needed to see him again. Wait, no. I needed this to be over. Questions can get you killed and I had to asked. Now, my time was up. The word was out and the chase was on.
'Burn Notice: The target is Rosa Martinez. She is armed and dangerous. Terminate.'
Rosa. One of my aliases. I never like that name. She's a very evil me. No one to mess with, but aw well. It was getting closer to time, half past eleven or so. Ten targets gunning for me and little over two hours to get to him. If they wanted me, they had to come and get me. I won't fail. I can't fail. I was ready for them. Ready for a fight. Ready for death. So, let's go. Game on.
**********************************************
Whoa there, Delilah. You can't die. You made a promise to Zayn. You cannot break a promise. You have to protect him at the concert. Delilah is way over her head. She's about to do something really stupid. I hope her plan works. Also, what is she going to do about Stan? Is he the one that killed Aaron? is he one of the elite assassins? I guess one thing at a time. If she survives...
~ Imm1025
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