The Beer Barrel Assassin

Chapter 1: The B-Flat Traitor

Valerie adjusted her grip on her custom tactical clarinet. Her thumb rested right on the metallic lever replacing the low E key.

She was a professional assassin with six successful international contracts. Yet, she never expected to be marching down 3rd Street in Wilber, Nebraska.

She was currently sweating profusely beneath a heavy, authentic wool Czech vest. Seventy-somethings all around her blasted “The Blue Skirt Waltz.”

The contract was lucrative and completely absurd. Her client was a fanatical, third-generation member of the local heritage committee.

He paid a massive cash deposit with one strict directive. The visiting out-of-town festival royalty had to be permanently removed.

To the locals, they were a stain on the town’s legacy. Valerie glanced ahead at the main VIP parade float.

The visiting King and Queen waved aggressively to the crowd. Her client was right about one thing. Their outfits were a visual insult.

Instead of hand-embroidered traditional kroje, they wore neon-polyester vests. They looked like cheap clearance items from a party supply store.

The crowd along the sidewalks was roaring. Nobody noticed the tactical rifle scope concealed inside Valerie’s clarinet barrel.

She checked her footing, keeping perfect time with the booming bass drum. The parade was rapidly approaching the main grandstand.

The line of sight was opening up perfectly. She just needed a clear shot, a steady embouchure, and a solid low B-flat.

Suddenly, the rhythmic flow shattered. A toddler broke past the security tape on the curb to grab stray candy.

Arlo, an overly enthusiastic local accordion player, stepped blindly sideways to avoid the child. His massive instrument slammed hard into Valerie’s shoulder.

The impact jerked her clarinet upward. Her thumb accidentally squeezed the low E key.

Thwip.

The sound-suppressed pneumatic barrel hissed. The lethal dart missed the grandstand entirely.

It tore clean through a massive banner hanging over the local kolach booth. A huge cloud of powdered sugar exploded into the air.

“Watch the spacing, new girl!” Arlo barked over the brass section. “We lose points for messy lines!”

Valerie ground her teeth, resetting her position. Her target was slipping away. She had exactly three blocks left.