Raymond Benson - 2012 - Hitman: Damnation (23 page)

 
          
“Stan?
What are these?” She held out her palm. There were three
oxycodone
pills in her hand. “I saw these on the floor behind the door. They’re yours,
aren’t they?”

 
          
47
had missed them during his cleanup. Now that he was caught, he figured he might
as well be honest. “Yes, they’re mine. They’re pills I take.
For
pain.”

 
          
“Pain?
Really?”

 
          
He
shrugged. “No. Not really.”

 
          
“Stan.
I know these pills. They’re
OxyContin
, aren’t they?”

 
          
He
nodded.

 
          
Helen
took his hand and led him to the couch. As they sat, she asked, “Stan, why are
you taking them?”

 
          
“I
had an injury about a year ago. I was on them for pain management, but I guess
I never stopped.”

 
          
“Stan,
you’re addicted. You know that, don’t you?”

 
          
He
shook his head. “I can quit anytime I want. I just don’t want to yet.”

 
          
“That
means you’re addicted. Stan, listen to me. I was addicted to
OxyContin
too.
For a long time.
I
haven’t told anyone at Greenhill this, not even Charlie. But—I don’t know, I
trust you. I think we’re kindred souls, Stan. There’s
a
sadness
in you that I can relate to. Do you … do you know what I’m
talking about?”

 
          
He
hesitated but then nodded.

 
          
She
turned her head and didn’t look at him as she spoke. 47 could see this was very
difficult for her. “Stan, I was very lost a few years ago. I was into drugs, a
lot of them. I did everything. I was hooked on heroin. The
OxyContin
came later, and I got hooked on that. I did … I did some pretty awful things to
support my habit. I’m not proud of it. Stan, it’s still a struggle for me.
Every day I go through a few moments in which I crave those awful drugs. That’s
the reason I joined the Church of Will. I needed the strength to fight my
addiction. Stan, if you knew the things I’ve done …”

 
          
47
thought,
If
you knew the things I’ve done!

 
          
She
turned to him and said, “I can help you, Stan. You need to kick it. You know you
do. You may not want to admit it, but deep down you have the Will. It’s what
Charlie teaches us. You have the Will to quit those pills and throw them away.
You might need some medical help, but some people can quit cold turkey. It
messes you up for a few weeks, but you can get through it. I’ll help you, Stan.
Will you let me help you?”

 
          
“Helen
…”

 
          
“If
I can do it, I know you can do it. I’m not a very strong person, Stan. I’m
pretty weak. I guess that’s something you should understand about me if we’re going
to continue to be … friends.” Then she looked at him.
“Or
more.”
She leaned in close, looking into his eyes, her mouth parted.

 
          
She
wanted Stan Johnson to kiss her.

 
          
“Helen,
I …”

 
          
She
reached up and placed a hand on his cheek.

 
          
But
Agent 47 couldn’t do that.

 
          
“Helen,
I’m … I’m just not wired for that kind of relationship.”

 
          
She
blinked but didn’t remove her hand. “Are you …?”

 
          
“No,
I’m not gay. But I’ve never had a relationship that worked the way it’s
supposed to. I guess you can say I’m jaded. It’s difficult for me to trust
anyone.”

 
          
“You
can trust me, Stan.”

 
          
“I’m
sure I can. I think the world of you. I believe we can be very close, but I was
hoping we could just be … friends.”

 
          
He
saw the disappointment in her eyes. She removed her hand and then took a big
sip of champagne. “Sure. We can do that.”

 
          
“Helen.
You really don’t know me—”

 
          
She
held up a hand.
“Stop.
It’s all right. I know you’ve
got your own set of secrets. Perhaps you’ll tell me about them someday. And,
about us, I’m not pressuring you, Stan. I like you. I like you more than anyone
I’ve known here at Greenhill. So if you want to be friends, then I can accept
that. I’m a damaged person too. Yes, I can see that you’re damaged. Your wounds
are deep and permanent. I know.”

 
          
He
took one of her hands and gently slid her sleeve up, revealing the red welts.

 
          
“Just
like mine,” she added.

 
          
“What
happened?” he asked gently.

 
          
“I
thought I was at the bottom.
The lowest of the low.
I
was selling my body for drugs. I was stealing. I was even homeless for a time.
So I tried to end it.” She snorted. “It didn’t work, obviously.”

 
          
He
lightly ran his fingers over the disfigured flesh.

 
          
“After
that, I resolved to change my life. It was a wake-up call. I turned to the
Church of Will and things started getting better. I had something to believe
in. I gained a purpose beyond sticking a needle in my vein or popping a pill.
Stan, you can do that too. I’ll help you, if you let me.”

 
          
A
long silence passed, after which 47 replied, “I’ll consider it.”

 
          
An
hour later, she was asleep on the couch. They had continued to talk, but she
drank nearly all the champagne and wine by herself. She cuddled next to him,
put her head on his shoulder, and drifted off.

 
          
47,
however, was wide awake. The pills had kicked in, and his thoughts were clear
and focused. He couldn’t think of a moment in his life in which a woman had
fallen asleep next to him in this fashion. It was indeed a totally new and
somewhat uncomfortable experience for him. Or maybe it was the other way
around.

 
          
Could
it be that the uncomfortable feeling he had was actually a comfortable one,
which was so unreal to him that it seemed foreign?

 
          
Of
one thing he was certain: He admired Helen. Not for any sexual attraction he
might have for her but for what she was able to accomplish.

 
          
She
had combated Death and won.

 
         
TWENTY-ONE

 
          
Jade
frowned as she took off her headset and checked the time. She muttered an
epithet and quickly left her workstation. She moved across the Agency command
center toward Travis, where he stood looking over the shoulder of the Middle
East analyst.

 
          
“…
and the handler is in place in Tel Aviv?”

 
          
“Yes, sir.
We should be good to go,” the analyst answered.

 
          
“Excellent.
Good work.”

 
          
Jade
stepped up.
“Sir.”

 
          
“What
is it?”

 
          
She
jerked her head slightly, indicating that he should follow her. “Client 432
will call in two minutes. I just received the transmission to alert us.”

 
          
“He
doesn’t give us much notice, does he? All right, let’s go to my office.”

 
          
Travis
led the way out of the central hub, down a corridor, and into the cabin that
served as both his quarters and workspace, separated by a bulkhead. He sat at
his desk and turned the computer monitor so they both could see it. Jade sat in
one of the chairs in front of the desk, her notepad and laptop ready. Travis
typed on his keypad, and the communications screen appeared. He then handed
Jade a headset and they waited.

 
          
At
exactly the appointed time, the call came through. The monitor displayed the
caller’s voice as visual sound waves, which were recorded and analyzed in an
attempt to decipher not only the client’s identity but his location and means
of transmission.

 
          
Travis
spoke. “This is the Agency, Manager Three.”

 
          
“Good
afternoon.” The voice was electronically garbled as usual.

 
          
“Are
you ready to proceed with phase two of your operation, sir?”

 
          
“Not
yet. All the pieces are not quite in place. But I can assure you that it’s
going to happen. It’s only a question of timing.”

 
          
Travis
grimaced at Jade. “Well, sir, our operative is in place and awaiting the order.
You realize that for every day that goes by, it is costing you?”

 
          
“Of course.
I have already wired a second down payment—a
retainer, so to speak—to the numbered bank account I was provided.”

 
          
Travis
nodded at Jade. She immediately set to work typing on her laptop. “Then what
can we do for you today, sir?”

 
          
“I
need to know the identity and description of your assassin.”

 
          
Jade
wrinkled her brow as she and Travis shared a look.

 
          
“And
why do you need to know that?” Travis asked.

 
          
“I
have my reasons.”

 
          
Jade
studied her laptop screen and whispered, “I can verify a payment of two million
was received this morning.”

 
          
Travis
nodded and then spoke. “I’m
sorry,
I can’t give you
that information. I’m sure you understand. I can’t reveal any details that
might compromise our operative. But I assure you the hit will be accomplished
with professionalism and secrecy.”

 
          
“Is
he one of your best?”

 
          
Travis
hesitated. “What makes you think the operative is a ‘he’?”

 
          
“Come
now. I’m losing patience. I have paid the Agency a lot of money already. I have
powerful friends in high places. And I know more about the International
Contract Agency than you can imagine. In fact, I know that you are at this
moment sitting aboard a yacht in the Mediterranean.”

 
          
Travis
blinked. How was that possible? Again he looked at Jade, this time with
concern. “Sir, I’m not sure I understand why you need to know who the operative
is. Wouldn’t that endanger his security and anonymity? It could jeopardize the
operation.”

 
          
“I’m
the goddamned client. I’m orchestrating the goddamned hit. I can control the
goddamned flow of information. Do you think I’m stupid?”

 
          
“No, sir.”

 
          
“Then
tell me what I need to know. I would hate to expose the Agency to
law-enforcement authorities.”

 
          
Travis
sighed. He would have to report this to upper management. There was a security
breach somewhere. It was also obvious that this client was turning into what
could be a formidable enemy. Still, a contract was a contract.

 
          
“Very
well,” he said. “The assassin assigned to your operation is the legendary Agent
47. If you indeed travel in the circles you claim, then I’m sure you’ve heard
of him.”