Moving Targets: Book One

This story may contain strong language and mature themes.

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01:35 AM. South bound, building Y, and still no sign of Harrison Johnstone.

Interesting.

There’s a low buzz in the air, the type that hums around you when the inevitable is about to happen, and hairs start to stand to attention on your skin. Hollow wind breezes past me, and I suck in a breath, anticipation hitting my senses when a dog is heard barking.

He’s not far.

“He’s here.” The voice in my ear—Indigo—rings out soft and slow. A tell-tale sign of concentration as the girl behind it focuses on the task at hand.

I look to the left of the office that I’m in, and wall to ceiling paintings stare back at me. Their eyes piercing and lifelike as multicoloured oils drip over them. The word ′peace’splashed across the top in silver marker.

But this man wanted anything but peace.

He wanted bloodshed. Tongue twisting, pain plucking, bloodshed, that left the whole word shaken to the core. A tilt on humanity if you will. All because of his role in society.

You see, Harrison Johnstone was no ordinary man. Sure, once cut down he bled like the rest of us—would crumble just like anyone. He wasn’t immortal and he certainly wasn’t untouchable. Just very, very, very lucky. And that luck seems to extend to the whole Johnstone family. Each one of them thought they were miles away from anything that could harm them.

It made them feel powerful of course. That power kept them at the top, and stopped anyone even a millimetre below them from trying to dethrone them. No one with a working brain in this foundation wanted to cross anyone with their bloodline. So for years they stayed out of the way, in the clear, safe.

Until tonight. Because when I mentioned that they weren’t untouchable, it was because no one had ever really tried to get to them. Whereas tonight, we have. And we have worked on ways to do this for weeks—months even.

Harrison was going down at precisely, 02:00 AM. His whole scandals would be revealed, and connections will be tarnished before his body even hits the ground.

Oh, we weren’t killing him either. That just wasn’t in our code. No, Harrison was going to lose everything and suffer a long life behind bars, locked in a top security facility with every other criminal that we’ve taken down before.

I’m sure he’ll be happy with his cellmate Carson.

I lifted up my arm, my watch coming to life with a few taps before a holographic image appears before me. The whole hallway was illuminated as his dogs, Burton and Betha, ran through them. Harrison hot on their tails as he sent a few texts from his phone. More than likely to his connections that were also going to suffer tonight as well.

Thanks to Jett, our team hacker and technology genius, we had all gained access to every camera surrounding the Johnstone estate. Including the ones his own staff didn’t know about.

Looking to camera five, a familiar face caught my eye, clad in a dark blue dress and waist line apron. A straight raven wig covered her usual blonde curls, and she smiled once Harrison began to bypass her.

Echo.

I plugged another earpiece into my free ear, listening to what was being said on the camera.

“Oh, Mr Johnstone!” She bowed before standing back up straight when he stopped to engage in conversation with her. “Your phone in the office has been ringing nonstop, I’d hate for you to miss something important.” She says.

“Well, thank you,” He says, eyeing her, “But I’d appreciate it if you kept your nose out of my business in the future.” We had predicted he would say this, and I giggle at the fact that his future is about to be terminated.

Echo pretends to be hurt by his accusational tone. Her eyes went wide and her stance straightened, almost meek like when she shakes her head, tilting it low. “I’m sorry, it won’t happen again.”

“Good.”

He moves on, heading towards the office Echo had spoken about—the same one that I’m waiting in—when her head lifts up to the camera. Our eyes made contact, and she sends a curt nod my way, knowing that we’re all watching every move of this operation.

I tilt my head to the right, seeing the red light of the office CCTV flash in the darkness and send a nod of my own back. A signal that I was ready for what was to come.

It was show time.

Swiping away the security footage, I move to his desk, rustling through it for a weapon he’s sure to be hiding in here. I’m not as naive to think he won’t have anything on him, butI amsmart enough to limit his options once our confrontation begins.

The door creaks open, and light spills into the room. Bringing the painting to life as they sparkle and glow. The colours changing, as if he used some sort of special paint for it.

If you asked me though, I wouldn’t be surprised if the red on the canvas was some poor souls blood.

Harrison enters the room with a sigh, “Go and find Loretta, she’ll feed you,” He speaks to the dogs and nods his head backwards, signalling for them to go. “Go on, I have business to attend to.”

That you do Mr Johnstone.

He enters the room, unsuspicious and not having the slightest thought as to what’s going to happen next, and I move into the shadows. Concealing my form at the moment was the best way to go about this, and the rate for success was higher that way.

We couldn’t afford to fail.

The sickly scent of perfume hits my nostrils, and I realise that it’s one of multiple women. Citrus, strawberry, and flowers all mix together in a way that can’t be good for your health and I hold my breath.

His wife had been home all night. I’d know that since I had seen here walk in and out the living space a few times, the occasional glance at her wedding photos when she got off of the phone in a huff. More than likely unable to reach him as he went through anything with a pulse.

I’d pity her if she wasn’t just as bad as him when it came to the law.

Floorboards creek and he stands there for a moment. My heart pounds in my chest as I await his next move. Anticipation growing so fast that I bite down on my bottom lip to stop the smile breaking free.

“What the fuck is she talking about? No phone is ringing in here?” There it is.

Stepping further into the room, I crouch into position and slide my hand to my thigh, pulling out my gun from the side pocket and aiming it at the window. One shot is all it would take to get the mans attention, and I fire. The glass smashes and he startles, running over to the window like the naïve man he was and peering out. Mistakenly thinking it was a shot from outside.

“What the?-” He pulls out a walkie talkie, “I want every man on the front and centre of south bound, building Y, this instance.”

Mumbling is heard and I assume that it’s them protesting.

Afterall, It’s not safe to abandon your post after a gunshot, is it?

Unfortunately, Mr Johnstone is too rash of a man to think things like that through, so he continues to push. “Do not question my judgement and get your asses out there!”

Footsteps rush the hall as the line ends, and I wait here in the darkness until I’m sure that everyone is outside.

It didn’t take long.

“Damn useless...” He mumbles to himself, thinking that he’s now alone. And I rise from my spot behind the desk, silently.

“Mr Johnstone, it’s a pleasure.” I say, and he stills when he hears my voice. His head moving over slightly before his body follows suit. An edge lay in his features but he hid it well. The only give away that he was truly nervous was the odd twitch to his left eye, and the sweat that started to sit upon his brows.

Taking a step towards him, he mimicked my actions by taking two back. “Who are you?” He demanded, pulling out a pistol and aiming it at me.

I giggled, “I wouldn’t bother,” I nodded towards the weapon, “It’s not loaded.”

He checked the barrel and sure enough, it came up empty.

Did I forget to mention that Echo had swapped his gun earlier on when he passed her? Thought so.

He paled, and his face dropped, the gun following suit as he took another step back. Fear growing on his features, the longer I stood here.

He was cracking. The strong facade of this big tough guy began fading by the moment.

Without his security, Harrison Johnstone was nothing but a weak little man with a lot of money. He wasn’t as dangerous as people said with no ammo—no way to get his hands dirty withoutactuallygetting his hands dirty.

He was a mess, and I think he knew that.

“Please, you want money?” His eyes lit up at the prospect of that’s all I wanted, “How much? I can get you whatever you want!”

I continue my trek towards him, ignoring his words and watch him squirm. He more than likely assumed that he was about to be killed, all alone in his cold office with no way to escape. He had no idea how wrong he was on that.

But he did the one thing that surprised me next. With eyes sparkling and a new found rush of wanting to ‘live’, the man on top of the food chain charged at me. His fit was high, ready to strike, and I ducked out of the way before it made impact.

My hand encircled his wrist and foot trapped his ankle, knocking him to the ground as I piled all of my weight on top of him. “Nice trick,” I said, pulling his arm behind his back and getting a hiss in return. He was hiding his pain. “But that won’t get you out of this.”

He whimpered and banged his forehead against the floor, whilst also trying to wiggle out from under my grip.

The guy was bigger than me, so it would be more realistic for him to push me off easily, right?

Wrong. No matter how big or strong someone is, if you’re taught the right techniques, you could keep them grounded with as little effort as possible.

I was sat on his back, my right hand pulling his behind and pinning it just in front of me as my left hand pushed against the back of his neck. My legs tangled with his, preventing him from getting on his knees or bucking me off and standing.

He was pinned, plain and simple. It was over for him.

I looked to the camera in front of him, and gave the signal, it was time to end this before his security found nothing outside and rushed in.

He was caught.

“What do you want?” He asks one last time, and I let out a sigh.

“Justice, Mr Johnstone. Nothing more, nothing less.”

The clock on the far end back wall chimed, and my head swooped to see it. And what do you know?

It was 02:00 AM...