Ties of Betrayal

[lost-lover]

This is just a random idea for a story I came up with earlier, it's been written in the last half hour so apologies in advance if it's terrible. No real title yet either, so I gave it the first thing I thought of.

CHAPTER 1

I walk through the crowded streets on a very tight schedule. I need to be on time for my visit, but these crowds are making it difficult. I hate crowds - always have and always will. I'm not claustrophobic or ochlophobic -I've got nothing against confined spaces and I sure don't fear these crowds - they just bug me. I grew up in the city and I've been living with the human swamp for years, so it's not a new thing; to me though, crowds - and their ill-tempered, bad-mannered inhabitants - are one of lifes daily irritations. You'd never know it from looking it me; my emotions are almost constantly hidden behind a mask of indifference. Faking emotion is easy for me - I can flirt, pout, cry and act seriously stressed all within seconds, all beleivable. It's a natural skill for me; 'veI put it to good use in the past, and will again today. One slip-up and I could be caught out. I won't let that happen. I wouldn't be blamed if I did though - this little 'visit' will test me to the full. Tonight I have a specific purpose, a job to do, thus the need to stay on schedule. Damn crowds.
You see, I thing that doesn't help is I have a small tendency to stand out in a crowd. I'm a woman, 6, with shoulder length dark hair, and equally dark eyes, and, so I'm told, pretty damn attractive. Which really doesn't help, especailly this crowd is mostly men, like now; the majority of the idiots are spending more time staring at my legs than where they're going. Luckily though, my destination has females on stages who, for their part, look better and wear less than me. No I'm not gay, or bi, nor do I have any kind of work-related business to be done in a strip club. Yet that's where I'm going, because that's where my 'visit' will be. My host just doesn't know it yet. I'm not going to give away my whole story right at the start - I'll just say that I have some unfinished business with an old acquaintance. I have time off work - they think that I'm on holiday - so, when I said job earlier, I didn't mean an offical paying-the-rent, government-tax-the-life-out-of-you job. If this guy knew that I was in town, he wouldn't be. I'm not one to play by the rules - I don't play nice, nor do I play nasty. I don't have time for games. However, I have time for fun. In tracking my mark, I've had my fun, now I'm going to deliver a message.
I look at the tacky neon sign about two feet away - above my target point. A strip club with neon signs. Can you say cliche? I mentally roll my eyes, pull my knee-length jacket around me and walk up to the bouncers, who don't look like they'll try too hard to stop me entering. Sure enough, a cute smile, bet of my eyelids and a few flirtatious comments later I'm inside. Hmmm, and there I was hoping for a bit of a challenge.
The smell of second-hand smoke burns my lunds and stings my eyes. I fight the urge to splutter and coughe - I can't afford to draw attention to myself; I've come too far to screw up now. I walk as fast as possible without looking conspicuous. I head for the corner I scouted out on my last visit. Sure enough, it's deserted - no doubt because it's too far from the strippers. The little bribe I left for the barmen could have helped too though, and the fact that he owes me a few favours. It does, however, offer an excellent veiwpoint of the main floor -all the tables and both exits, plus the doorway to the toilets. It's for this reason I bribed the barmen to keep it for me. It's also a blind spot - no CCTV will catch a picture of me tonight. The cameras over the front entrance are convieniently broken. Good thing too. I look up and make eye contact with my helper. He heads over. Leo is mid 20s, like me; a 6"4 blonde with an athletic build. He's one of just two people in the world I trust with my life - I have done in the past - and one of just three poeple in the world who know what I'm planning for tonight. He drops into the chair next to me and places a drink in front of me. Not to drink, because we both know I won't drink it - it's there in case any of the men spare a glance from the scantly-clad dancers and spot me, then decided to offer me a drink and try it on. I can't afford distractions.
"He's here." Says Leo.
I nod, my gaze studying every corner. Leo knows better than to point me in the right direction - I'll find the mark in my own time. "Do you have what I need?" I say.
Leo nods and hands over a small vial containing a few drops of liquid. The last peice of the plan. Now I'm ready. I reach for my bag to get my money. Leo's done good - this stuff in banned and if he'd been caught with this he'd be in prison - matter how good a liar he is. I look at him to see he's shaking his head.
"No money for this one Cass. Hell, I'd pay to see it put to action." Leo says. He has his own issues with my mark. "Shame I have to work the bar for my sodding alibi." Why do we British struggle with swearing? Ah well, it's one of life's mystries. Leo nods and walks off, leaving a package on his chair. Something else I'd requested, for use later tonight.
I wave Leo off to the bar and resume my scouting of the bar. I always pick the mark out personally - if it's my job I want the guy to know I saw him myself, that they're not just someone who's been fobbed off on me. Then again, in most ways this mark's different. I've never taken a job so far, nor done a job quite so...personal. Most of my, shall we say, less-than-official jobs are normally moeny jobs. This though, is a whole different agenda. More on that later though.
My eyes are flicking continually between people around the establishment with such concentration I fail to notice the approach of a fat, ugly man in his mid 40s. Oh *****. "Alright darling? Fancy givin' a private dance?" Says the Balding Oldie. His breath stinks of cigarettes and booze.The **** thinks I'm a stripper? I don't have time for this crap. I look at the man sat way too far into my personal space, just in time to see him licking his lips at me. Eww.
I put on a bugger-off voice. "I don't work here, and I'm not in the mood for conversation. So if you don't mind?" I gestures for him to leave. He doesn't take the hint. He puts his hand on my knee as he leans towards me. I try not to gag from his breath. "Loosen up sweetheart, we can have some fun."
His hand starts moving up my leg. Okay, time to quit being the polite Brit. I grab his hand in a vice grip. Stinky Breath starts to make some comment about liking it rough when I put on a voice of deadly calm, my mask of indifference not wavering for a second. "If you do not remove your hand then I will break it."
The perv just repeats his comment. I sigh. Then I cover his mouth with one hand and break his arm with the other, all the while keeping my gaze on his piggy little eyes. I wink at him, before summoning crocodile tears and ripping my blouse. His screams and confusion are quickly silenced - Leo arrives with a bouncer, who proceeds to drag my "attacker" outside while Leo "comforts" me - trying to decide whether to laugh or yell at me. Laughter wins, but not without a warning to be careful. He's right. After he returns to the bar and I have assured the bouncer I'm ok, I focus on the customers, still searching for the mark I know is among them.
My gaze focusses on a man in his early 40s with greying hair in a black suit. His dark eyes are still glued to a dancer even as he makes a path to the toilets. I recognise those eyes. This is my mark.
I grin to Leo and head to the bar with the drink he gave me earlier, unceramoniously dumping the contents in a plant pot. I put the now-empty glass on the bar with the little vial he'd handed me earlier. I wait for him to come and collect the glass then nod to the toilet door, which the mark has just left - now making a beeline for the bar. Leo nods in return, winks, then, using me as a blind spot, pours the contents of the vial into the mark's glass. I head back to my table before he spots me and wait for him to leave. It wouldn't be long. Due to prior arrangement he'd have one more drink after this one, then be told to leave because he's drunk. He's not drunk, nor will he be after one more drink but liquid estacsy has that effect on your appearence, I'm told. We'll see, after all, Leo's just put it in his glass.
Half an hour later, I watch my target be forced out by the bouncers. I wink to Leo, wait a few minutes, then follow. My target is out of it, the drug has done it's work. I know, through survaillence, that he drove here, parked a few streets away. I know his route, and so I know where to get him alone. In another blind spot. This isn't something I want recorded. The drug insures he won't spot me until I want him to. I follow him until we reach the car park - empty except for us and his 4x4. He won't be usiong that tonight.
He still doesn't know I'm here - that changes now. I take a deep breatheI clutch the package Leo gave me, pull on thin leather gloves -I don't want fingerprints leading to me after all the planning I've put into this - then a remove the item inside. A 9mm handgun. Fully loaded, with serial numbers scraped off.
I take I deep breath. Then I call out. "Andy."
He turns around, face sweaty, eyes unfocused. Despite the drug, I know he recognises me. I take a step forward, into the light, just to be certain of it. His eyes focus. "Cass?" He whispers, not quite believing.
For the first time, I feel my mask cracking. "You don't get to say my name!" I hiss, not moving.
Then I pull out the gun. His eyes widen in horror. I fire once, just below his heart. The silencer ensures I won't be heard. He stumbles backwards and falls to the floor clutching his chest. I move forward until I'm less than two feet from him; his drug-fuelled brain is still piecing things together. "That was for Ben." I **** the gun. "And this is for me." I send a bullet flying into his heart. I watch without remorse as his blood pours out, staining his clothes and the pavement. His grips loosen and his car keys fall to the floor, wet with blood.
I wait a few seconds then, for the first time, my mask drops. I let my emotions show on my face. My hatred, revulsion, everything. Still, I feel no pity for the sight in front of me.
I bend down to my dead, then lock my eyes on those of the mortally wounded man at my feet. My voice is stilll calm, cold as the night air as I speak the last words he'll ever hear, before I leave him to bleed to death in the car park. "Nice to see you again Dad."

[firebreathingfishies]

Whoa, you wrote this that quick? It's brilliant! I really enjoyed reading that. The ending was perfect and the way you built up Cass' character was spot on. I hope you'll be doing more of this because I'm defo going to keep reading

[lost-lover]

Cheers fbf glad you liked it! I got the idea and wanted to write it down before I forgot it. I will hopefully add a new chapter soon.

[lost-lover]

CHAPTER 2

For all my control over my emotions, I was fighting a long lost battle not to smile at the headline of the newspaper I was holding. MOB BOSS FOUND DEAD IN CAR PARK. Andy Ritcher, head of the most notorious crime syndacate in London, perhaps the whole of the UK, met his untimely demise in the late hours of the evening and was found dead in the early hours of the morning with two gunshot wounds to his chest. No luck had been had finding his killer. Andy's two son's were both in prison, serving time at Her Majesty's pleasure, and were requesting day releases to attend their father's funeral - both requests were likely to be rejected. Damn shame really. That meant no family reunion for me. Of course, my big brothers finding out that the old man was dead by my hand might put a downer on the occasion.
I notice the paper hasn't mentioned me. Maybe I should write in and complain? Nah, if they'd mention me I'd be out of the country by now. Andy kept his daughter a secret, and I kept my mother's maiden name. Not for my protection, nothing so noble. The **** thought having a daughter was a sign of weakness. Despite having a wife and a mistress. Huh, there's logic for you. Are men really supposed to be the smarter sex? Anyway, Dad thought that my role in life was that of domestic goddess and doormat to all the males in my life, and smile and look pretty while I did it. The only good he thought to get from me was to have me partner one of his associates to help secure his postion as king of England's underworld. My brothers saw my point of veiw but did nothing to help me, not wanting to risk losing Dad's favouritism. Cowards. Unsurprisingly he didn't take to kindly to my, shall we say, uncooperative attitude. I generally questioned his every word and that of his associates, as well as flirting with the lackeys to p**s off their bosses and weaken Dad's connections.
Eventually we lost contact. I took on a good job, all legal but under a fake name, the majority of my business, under my real name, is not exactly on the up-and-up. I grew in my own field of crime and Dad saw the power a woman could have. Me and my brothers grew close again, for a time. Reality intervened and I estranged myself from the family again, Dad and me never made up. He shunned me and last night I showed him just how stupid that was. his little girl had more guts than his two sons, his precious heirs.
I gave up fighting it and let the smile grow over my face until it hurt the muscles in my face.
"How can you be smiling when you're reading about such a tragedy, sweetheart?" Leo plopped down onto the bench next to me.
I assumed an expression of somber regret. "This better?"
"Sure, anyone but me could hardly tell you'd rather be doing backflips." He grinned. "I'm disgusted by your attitude."
I grinned back, glad to be taking a break from my emotional mask which was usually hitched across my face. "You're disgusted that you missed it."
"That too." He said.
The wind whipped through the desserted park and I shivered.
"Let's get somewhere warm and you can buy me breakfast. You owe me from last time." Said Leo, jumping up.
"Thought I owed you a dinner?" I said, trying to remember our record.
"You do. But I can't be asked to wait 10 hours for a free meal. Besides, I left my wallet in the hotel." He grinned sheepishly. "Where'd good to eat in this town?"
"I've been living off crossiant for breakfast and room service for dinner for the past 3 weeks, I'm not the best person to ask." I laughed.
"You don't want to know what I've been living on." He warned. "Come on, we'll find somewhere, anything'll taste good at this hour."
"Doubt it." i muttered as we set off.
Leo and I don't live in this town. We're Oxford natives, but both work in London. Well, I work in London legitimetly, but most of our nderworld connections also stick to the capital. For the last 3 weeks we've been running survaillance on Andy. I've been following him and Leo got a job at his favourite strip club. Andy's favourite, I don't know what Leo thought of it. It's a mark of how little attention Andy had paid me that he failed to realise his new bartender was his daughter's best friend. If he'd paid me more attention he may still be alive. Maybe karma does work after all. Anyway, our geography of this town is painfully limited, so now we're playing catch-up.
We decide to enter the first cafe we see, mainly because we're feeling lazy and extremely cold and hungry. Only one other table is occupied. I iunderstand why when our food arrives. There's more grease on this plate than I've had in the past year, and my sausages taste like cardboard. Judging from Leo's expression he's reconsidering his opinion about his food from the past few weeks. We've reached an unspoken agreement not to discuss Andy here, namely because the untimely (that's a matter of opnion) demise of a crime lord hardly makes for an innocent breakfast discussion. As is our nature, we've both tuned into the conversation from the only other occupied table; we have an automatic habit to look for potential marks even when we're off the job - a side effect to a criminal lifestyle.
It seems in this area murder makes for a good conversation, our neighbours are discussing my father's death with lots of enthuiasm. Sparing a glance at them, I see a couple in their late 20s. The woman is twice the size of the man and looks like she eats here everday, her forehead looks like a dot-to-dot puzzle, and her face looks like a bulldogs. Her companion is a ratty man with a complexion that would rival any teenager going through puberty and hair greasier than my plate. A match made in heaven, I think.
"Should have left him to the police." Says the woman. The man nods, I get the feeling he's too afraid to argue, or he just doesn't want to give her an excuse to spray him with half-chewed food again. Ick. "He deserved life in a cell."
Leo looks eager to join in. I am too, but don't want to risk looking too eager, we both have alibis, but I still don't want the police throwing their radar on us - mine's at risk thanks to the Balding Oldie from the strip joint.
sadly, Leo's already talking. "Life in a cell? Why did he deserve to live?" He says.
The woman's eyes nearly pop out of her head. I think she's shocked someone would question her. "Why?" She shrieks, he face-fat wobbling. "He needed to face what he did. A few years in prison would have made him feel some remorse."
I snort. I can't help it, I have to say something, my mask's off today. "Our prison's are like hotels. Besides, a guy like that wouldn't feel remorse. More likely he'd feel mad about getting caught." I say.
Bulldog lady stares at me. "What would you know about a man like this?" She says.
Well he's my dad, and I'm his killer. I shrug. "Well, nothing about him personally." Leo's mobile goes off, I spare him a glance - from his face I can tell it's important. I decide to finish up this conversation with Miss Bulldog so I can see what it's about. "But mob bosses don't get to be bosses by feeling remorseful."
"They still feel t, but they just hide it." Pipes up Rat Man.
I grin. "Are you a mob boss?"
"Are you?" He counters. Bulldog grins.
No, just the third hier to the mob's kingdom. "No, but I know mob bosses can't afford emotions. They see it as weakness."
Rat Man is about to answer when Leo grabs my arm and pulls me outside. Shame, I was enjoying that argument.
"We got a problem Cassy." He says, his face ashen.
"You only call me Cassy when you're real nervous Lee." I say, giving him the name I use when I get nervous.
"Well I got I good reason. Barney, the bouncer I bribed to get rid of your pervert friend? He just called. Mr Perv went to the feds. Your abili's been blown out the water."

[firebreathingfishies]

I've read the first two paragraphs and it's looking as good as the first one I'll be back to finish it and I'll let you know what I think

[firebreathingfishies]

Oooo nice cliff-hanger Really good l-l keep it up!

[lost-lover]

Cheeers fbf, I should have a new chapter up tomorrow.

[lost-lover]

CHAPTER 3

I suddenly regret eating that breakfast. I feel sick. Your alibi's been blown out the water. I knew there was a chance of this happening, with all the planning there was still a chance something could happen. It's very rare that you have a chance to plan for every contingency where murder is involved. Still ... I hoped that I'd have a longer break between the act and a connection being made to me - preferably a few days, as opposed to a few flimsy hours when the print is still warm on the paper's reporting my crime. Plus, I really don't want to be put in jail. My pride is partially built on the basis that I'm different from the family - right now, that includes the fact that I've never done time.
I notice my debate buddies through the windows, gawping shamelessly - no doubt hoping for some more gossip. I realise my thoughts are showing on my face and hitch my mask into place - other than my now-pale features, I'm unreadable once more. Sadly, the mask never fools Leo.
"What do you think we should do?" He says, grabbing my arm and pulling me with him away from our audience into the deserted street.
"Is your alibi still solid?" I say, he nods. "Then you don't need to stay Leo, I've dragged you too far into my mess anyway." I walk off fast, trying to keep my mind focused.
Unlike my family, I'm concerned for more people than myself. My brothers are only concerned for themselves and my father - the family. I'd like to think that they'd be concerned for me if I was in danger, but I doubt it. If they found out about my actions last night it would be a definate no - more likely they'd be more concerned with putting me in danger. Anyway, I'm concerned about three people - me, Leo and Jack. The two people I trust with my life. Once upon a time, I'd have been concerned about 5 people - the aforementioned three, plus Ben and my Mum. That, though, is a very long story.
"If you think I'm leaving you Cass, you don't know me half as well as I thought you did." He says, running to catch up with me.
"I didn't think you would, I hoped you would though." I say, eyes downcast; revealing the emotional turmoil taking place behind the mask. "I don't want you doing time for me."
"Hell Cass do you really think I'd have got involved in the first place if I wasn't prepared to take risks?" He says.
"You wanna help me?" I say. He nods and I grin, my brain already forming a plan. "How d'you feel about lying to the feds?" I ask, knowing his answering before he's even formed it.
"Wouldn't be the first time." He laughs.
"In that case, we've got work to do." I grin. "Let's go to the studio."
Leo smirks, his eyes lighting up, and I begin to explain my plan to him as we walk off.
The studio is a small desk with a vanity mirror situated in my hotel suite. It contains several of my 'emergency' supplies namely, make-up and two wigs. No, I'm not so vain that I can't travel without make-up, this stuff is purely for emergencies. In this case, I'm going to edit my appearence to match my fake papers - which have a background with no mention of my relationship with Andy. More importantly though, it'll make myself look a bit worse for wear after my encounter with the Balding Oldie at the cop shop, which will make the police less than symapethic to his story, as well as more likely to beleive his broken arm was caused by me defending myself. Leo's currently on the phone; bribing Barney to go along with the story if the feds show up - which I think is inevitable, not that the bribe is necessary; Barney never did like the feds.
Within half an hour Leo has decided I'm ready to visit Fedtown and reaccquaint myself with my 'attacker'. I'm wearing a red/brown face length wig - just to confuse my attacker, and my clothes are all jet black - skinny jeans, heel-boots, vest top and the leather jacket - all black, and very complimentary to my figure, giving me the appearence of a confident young women. My face, however, will blur that appearence. My eyes are red rimmed -as if I'd cried myself to sleep, my face is deathly pale - which is thrown into sharp contrast by my outfit, and I have bruises on my wrist and my one on my right cheek. Mr Perv is going to have a hell of a job explaining those.
As we leave the hotel the receptionist stares at me - my face is now giving off a terrifed look. Of course, that's the whole point - me and Leo are going to the cop shop to report my "assault", thereby countering Perv's accusation. I'm also planning to throw off the suspicion of a women being in a strip joint without working there - Leo's helping alot with this part as well as confirming the story of my "attack".
I stop and check the make up and wig look real opposite the police station. I try not to show my fear. I'm not too concerned for myself, but I don't want Leo's life screwed up again because of me. As I've said, the mask never fools him.
"I've come this far, and you've done more than this for me in the past." He says.
"I'm just trying to look the part." I hiss, annoyed that he always knows what I'm thinking. Leo smirks.
"You're not supossed to look happy." I scold him.
"Right," He says, putting on an expression of concern mingled with outrage. "This better?"
"Much." I smile.
"Ready to do this?" He asks.
"Let's go." I say. "I've always wanted to view enemy territory."

[firebreathingfishies]

Good stuff as usual Enjoying it muchly, keep it up