cgraven
Literotica Guru
- Joined
- Sep 6, 2001
- Posts
- 63,825
Angel of Mercy
This is a closed thread for Kililia and cgraven. Read along and enjoy.
Some days are good, some days are bad, and some days are better than others. Today had been one of the bad days, in fact it damn near was his last day was the thought that ran through his mind as he lay there in the gutter in a back alley. But that is not how the day started.
Jean Batard had one more job to complete and then it was over his job done after over forty years of work. Then he could look forward to a long leisurely retirement. Most people in Jean’s line of work did not make it to retirement do to the hazards of the job. One could hardly expect to live a long life if one was a contract killer. Not only were the cops after you but your former employers as well, once you completed the contract you became a liability to them. Simply it meant you could trust no one if you wanted to stay alive. It was a lonely life that led you to taking your pleasure where you could find it. But the job showed nothing was permanent.
It was a simple job hit a snitch before the cops got him. He had studied the guys habits. Knew his schedule, the routs he took, and when he would be alone. Jean had the hit set, the guys house, he would make it look like an accident. That when all went to hell and it was Jean that was being ambushed. Well, his attackers would never collect their pay, dead men don’t ask to be paid.
The rain was splashed against his up turned face. Jean was floating in and out of consciousness. He must be close to death for he saw the face of a redhaired angel staring down at him. Hell, just because he was dressed as a priest the poor angle must of thought he was bound for heaven. Jean Batard knew better.
This is a closed thread for Kililia and cgraven. Read along and enjoy.
Some days are good, some days are bad, and some days are better than others. Today had been one of the bad days, in fact it damn near was his last day was the thought that ran through his mind as he lay there in the gutter in a back alley. But that is not how the day started.
Jean Batard had one more job to complete and then it was over his job done after over forty years of work. Then he could look forward to a long leisurely retirement. Most people in Jean’s line of work did not make it to retirement do to the hazards of the job. One could hardly expect to live a long life if one was a contract killer. Not only were the cops after you but your former employers as well, once you completed the contract you became a liability to them. Simply it meant you could trust no one if you wanted to stay alive. It was a lonely life that led you to taking your pleasure where you could find it. But the job showed nothing was permanent.
It was a simple job hit a snitch before the cops got him. He had studied the guys habits. Knew his schedule, the routs he took, and when he would be alone. Jean had the hit set, the guys house, he would make it look like an accident. That when all went to hell and it was Jean that was being ambushed. Well, his attackers would never collect their pay, dead men don’t ask to be paid.
The rain was splashed against his up turned face. Jean was floating in and out of consciousness. He must be close to death for he saw the face of a redhaired angel staring down at him. Hell, just because he was dressed as a priest the poor angle must of thought he was bound for heaven. Jean Batard knew better.