The making of an Assassin

Chapter One - The Ruse

“Oh for fuck’s sake!”

Max cursed softly, annoyed with himself.

For such a little kid, she was proving to be quite difficult to deal with, even in her unconscious state. Rolling her over onto her back carefully again, without making a mess, was quite a task. I should have left her alone, just walked away quietly. No one would have even known I had been there. That would have been the right thing to do...well the wise thing anyway. But no, against my better judgment, I didn’t. I got involved. Big bloody mistake!

Max shook his head subconsciously still very annoyed with himself.

“Too late now," I muttered sarcastically to myself and got back to the task at hand.

I combed her fringe neatly again and gave it one last snip with the scissors.

“There we go, all done," I whispered. Why I was whispering, I don’t know. It was not like anyone else was around. Just the two of us!

Standing up slowly, I stretched briefly and then surveyed my work. Well, it was not the best hair cut I had seen, but it would pass. Hopefully, everyone would be fooled into thinking that Courtney was a ‘boy’. Looking around briefly, I noticed I had made a minimal mess. That was a bonus! Cleaning up was always the bane of my existence. I was good at leaving a ‘mess’… a bloody gory mess. But not today. Today was all about perceptions and disguises. The newspaper under her head and shoulders was a good idea. It caught all her cut off hair…and there was a lot of that. I mentally patted myself on the back. ’Job well done Max”, I whispered again and smiled.

Now for the next step, I thought, as I walked into the en-suite bathroom to grab the box of black hair dye. A quick look at the huge bathtub, helped me decide what my next move was. It would be so much easier to dye Courtney’s hair in there, less mess too…hopefully. Reading the dying instructions, I could not help wonder why women do this voluntary. Most of them pay a fortune to have it done by professionals. Did they not read what the chemicals were that they were inflicting on themselves? Yet a lot of them worry about what they consume. Women! I will never understand these creatures. Mentally I smiled at myself while I prepared the bottle with the solution. I had no hesitance in inflicting the chemicals on an innocent child. Yup, none at all. Whatever I shrugged. It was a means to an end. I left the now made up concoction next to the bath. Grabbing the hand-held shower head off the stand, I carefully placed it into the bath, then headed back into the room.

The room itself was your average size generic motel room that you would find worldwide. Right down to the pastel coloured curtains and a couple of cheap prints hanging on the walls. One of the prints was of The Queen and her corgi and the other of a landscape with oak trees and acorns scattered on the ground.

Glancing down at the unconscious child on the ground minus her beautiful long brown hair, was a reality check for me. This was so out of my normal scope of assignments. But this was no assignment. No one was paying me to do a job. Nope, this was all on me.

Bending down carefully, I scoop Courtney up into my arms, managing to avoid stirring up the loose hair. Strolling into the bathroom, I caught sight of myself and the unconscious child in the mirror. For a twelve-year-old, she looked very small in my arms. She took after her Mum in size and looks. She could easily be mistaken for a nine or ten-year-old. Which thankfully, played right into my hands. No one would be looking for a ten-year-old boy. Disappearing with her should be relatively easy. But only if she played along. Convincing her to co-operate, might be a problem.

“Humph.” I snorted. She would play along! She would have no other choice!

Fear worked well, I thought darkly to myself. I was a pro at installing fear and inflicting pain!

Pulling my sight away from the mirror, I settled Courtney onto the cold tiles. Turning back into the room, I carefully scooped up the newspaper with her hair on and put it in a black plastic garbage bag without messing on the floor. Taking the garbage bag with me, I went back into the bathroom.

“Right, what next Courtney? Clothes I guess? Might as well get them off you now instead of later. It will be much easier while your unconscious and dry.” I whispered to the sleeping child. Courtney stirred in her sleep as if objecting.