Love Beyond Lies (closed)

[Asa]

https://66.media.tumblr.com/2d317f8890c64ed7f0824eb6fd7a14c3/tumblr_o9xbdjiEKD1skqjozo1_400.jpg
https://65.media.tumblr.com/8b55ee47e82a9b366e09791c253d6078/tumblr_o9xbp6Hwtu1skqjozo1_400.jpg

He was supposed to be the one... finally after a life of hell abuse and loss she had finally found her safe haven her happily ever after.

They were dancing... he had leaned in to kiss her... then darkness. She awoke was it days or weeks later with no idea of where she was and only a picture of the near kiss they almost shared with the words written on the back... was that blood... it said... find him. She also had more memories of her life than she did before. She had been a killer hired gun or government she could not remember. One thing she did remember was where she hid the weapons that were her life for so long and now... they would be again.

Little did she know when he woke up he had the same photo and the same cold blooded killer memories. Were they supposed to kill each other or what?

________________

Tala stared at the photo... She could remember the moment even though it was fading some. Who was he? Why could she not remember a name? Clearly they had been close and why were the words find him drawn on the back in... Blood? What did it mean? Where had the last several days or weeks gone? Way too many questions. She didn't like questions beyond... Who do I kill and how much is it worth to you? She stared at the two Nighthawks on the table before her. Her only friends or family for as long as she could remember. The place she had hidden them was a loft transformed from some old abandoned warehouse. Had this been her home or business front? It seemed a little lavish but it... It was home... At least it seemed that way.

She made her way to the kitchen area and opened the massive fridge finding take out and beer and little else she slowly sank deeper into her new memories being real as she grabbed a beer and saw the blinking light on the answer in machine. She hit play cracked open the beer and sat down to listen.

-You better get this and finish the job Tala... We paired good money for you to get rid of them and still it seems a couple of Zhang's boys are still above ground. Fix this... Now!!!!-

 

[kizkiz]

Neal: She smelled like Christmas

Neal didn't open his eyes. He could still smell the cinnamon and nutmeg on her hands. His hand in her hand. Raising her hand to his lips. Nothing but the thinnest of space between her fingers and his lips. The spice of her comforting him. It was like Christmas with ginger bread cookies. God her flesh was warm ginger bread just fresh from the oven. His arm low slung across the small of her back. The heat of her body pressing against his.

He refused to banish the darkness. If he opened his eyes, she'd be gone. Of course he knew that warm memories and soft flesh was unlikely to be anything other than a dream. And dreams were things he couldn't afford. Not his hands. He sighed, rolling up to his feet, hands out grasping for the hard comfort of the Colts. His hands could always find them. They were the only lovers his hands was allowed to worship.

Whoever she'd been. She was not meant for him. But God did he want her to be.

He opened his eyes and there she was. A small time capsule devoted to them. It was not much, but he knew he'd done much more with less. A Polaroid. First clue. His mind already cataloging details. Sure he had gunslinger hands. Hands that could kill without need for thought or consideration, but it was his eyes that were his true weapon. With a crinkled smile, his cerulean blue eyes could calm a rapid dog or notice minute details. Something about them felt alien. He'd heard of Body Integrity Identity Disorder. Read books about people, because he was convinced his eyes weren't his own. It was too crazy of a thought to say out loud and his handler would have freaked if they got whiff of it, but there it was. He read biographies of BIID sufferers in secret, but he was good with keeping secrets.

He tucked the photo into his left breast pocket, unable to burn the only truly good memory that he should have had, except he couldn't remember that. So maybe it wasn't real. It could be a test. The blood was real. He'd have to get it analyzed without his handler knowing.

He tucked his Colts back into his armpit holsters. His suit jacket hid them well. They were so familiar and comforting.

He whirled around, his eyes searching his bed. How had he known to hid his Colts in the hidden cache in his dresser, a compartment that could be accessed from his bed? He was a painter. He ran a studio around the corner. Helped suburbanites pretend like they could make something beautiful while also giving them an excuse to get drunk drinking wine. Except that wasn't him at all. He was a killer. He killed with his hands and with his eyes. Damn. He wasn't supposed to have both memories. Only one or the other. One or the other...

He heard the footsteps before his neighbor knocked on his door. "Hey James?" Except she wasn't just his neighbor, she was one of his handlers. Only with both his memories could he tease that clue out. She would freak if she saw his Colts. He wasn't supposed to have them. He wasn't supposed to be in a suit. Damn. Damn.

 

[Asa]

She called the number back as if it was second nature. When the man answered with that same irate tone only now she could hear fear creasing it. Cute her employer only had a set when he was not face to face with her... When he thought a hostile message would make her jump. Well wasn't he about to learn a lesson.

Are you done ranting?

Her tone calm almost deathly calm.

You came to me not the other way around. Now if you don't like my methods you can try to find someone else and kiss your money goodbye or... You can be a good little coward shut your yap and let me do my job... Or...

Or what?

Came back a poorly veiled terror filled voice.

Or... I throw in a freebie for your rival and let him win after all his unfortunate losses.

There was a quick click on the other end of the line as she hung up the phone and smiled. The last two Zhang goons... She felt like being creative with them... After all one prided himself unfortunately on being a karaoke god... And the other was into fast cars. She smirked as she finished off the beer and headed downstairs into her workshop to plan. She quickly found more than enough speaker cables to hang someone with. It would be rather poetic to be killed by a tool of ones own hobby. Once all her gear was packed up she headed out to hunt. One at a time unless they chose to be convenient and both be drunk or otherwise out of their heads together.

 

[kizkiz]

Neal: Don't mind me, just watching porn.

Neal looked around the studio apartment. It was familiar and unfamiliar at the same time. He saw the bathrobe peaking out from a heap in the corner of the living room near an easel and paintbrush. but it was too far away.

She knocked again. "Hey James? Everything alright?"

"Uh," James said, "Yeah, what gives?"

Neal had an uneasy feeling about looking through the peep hole. Some predator instinct, indistinct but heavy, kept him from that hole of glass. Another made him curious. A normal peep hole like he had was out of place for what he really was. Why had his handlers set him up with an apartment that didn't have one of the newer boxes that not only magnified the image but made it impossible to tell if someone on the inside was looking through on the outside.

"Just haven't seen you in a few days."

"Oh okay."

"Well...can I come in for a sec?"

He grasped for the something embarrassing that might throw her off. "I was watching porn. Mind if I finish up first?"

"You'd interrupt for me?"

Neal didn't like the quality of her voice. She was trying to sound touched. She was the opposite of his love. His love was cold ice with a spark of heat that could melt. His neighbor was a ray of sunshine, which had been appealing once upon a time. A time before he knew what he was missing. Her voice didn't do a great job of hiding its disbelief.

"I..." She paused with the proper note of shy modesty. "I could come in?"

"It's pretty hardcore stuff..."

"Umm."

Neal breathed a sigh of relief. Check mate. How could she respond to that.

"I'm pretty open to..." She made an audible deep breath and as she let out her breath added, "Stuff."

Damn. "Well yeah, sure." Neal unbuttoned his suit jacket and slid back the chain bolt. "That'd be..." The deadbolt squeaked back into its resting place. "Great!" He dashed around the door, leaned over, and opened it.

The door slid open slow on rusted hinged that made a horrible squealing sound. Not a door for a ninja assassin, but damn handy to keep tabs on someone's coming and goings. Why hadn't he ever fixed that?

His neighbor -- the name Jenny leapt into his mind -- crept through the door. She was wearing a pair of white tennis shoes. Black yoga pants and a matching polyester shirt. She was gorgeous with golden locks pulled into a loose ponytail. Part of him would have loved to see how far she'd have gone. The psychological cat-and-mouse would have entertaining.
"Hello love," his voice dropped all pretense of the humble, middle class painter. He was all hard lines and difficult choices now. The Colts had leapt into his hands with such tenderness that only true love can bring. He clipped the top of her brow with the butt of his right Colt. The cold metal slammed into Jenny's head. Jenny staggered, the gun she had behind her back falling to the ground.

Neal's left Colt was buried muzzle deep into Jenny's belly. "The slow way, if you'd like?" Neal winked, shutting the door with a quick kick. "Or shall we do the awkward bit?"

 

[Asa]

A day of hunting led to a perfect little situation. These two idiots drunk high whatever both hitting on her. One with excruciatingly painful serenades and the other offering to win her whatever car she liked if she would be his date for the street races. It was all too perfect she sweetly told them she would go racing then midnight serenades under the stars afterward. Perhaps the old moss covered bridge in the park would be a romantic enough place and not too far from the races.

She met up with them that night for the street races and asked racer boy to test a car an old friend had given her to race. He was more than happy to agree and quickly jumped behind the wheel ready for the long race. The car of course rigged but by nothing that would be detected after the wreck. She got a phone call at about the half way point and smiled.

Yes Bethany I found someone to test the car for me I am at the race... Right now.

The roads were still patchy with the rain earlier that day so it merely looked like the car lost traction spinning out ahead of the others and slamming into a semi parked in a long abandoned loading dock. She acted shocked and concerned for the driver who she already knew was dead on impact and soon would be nothing but a memory when the nitro tanks went in 3... 2... 1.

Perfection one down one to go. Everyone was clearing out before cops showed up. She was running with her next "date" to the bridge where she had everything set up right down to the portable karaoke machine and cables. Whiskey flowed as she endured the singing. Encouraging him to stand tall on the stone rail as he sang a horrific rendition of loving feeling. She was dancing around beside him "just as drunk" twirling around the cables over her head as they looped around his shoulders knotting as she danced till she nearly fell and he fell protecting her. Long drop and a quick stop. When he stopped struggling she cut the cable knowing he was dead and let the swift river carry him to its distant depths.

Collecting up the remainder of the gear and heading to a car parked in the darkness past the bridge she headed home texting its done through a dummy phone and tossing it out he window. In the morning it would be a nice breakfast at her favorite diner and a shopping trip. It still amazed her sometimes that people were willing to pay whatever she asked to get their asses out of trouble or to get ahead. Made for a pretty nice life for her though so no need to complain. Like the old saying goes a fool and his money are soon parted and she definitely was the recipient of lots of that parting.

 

[kizkiz]

And the dog turned upon the hand that fed it.

"Hello love," his voice dropped all pretense of the humble, middle class painter. He was all hard lines and difficult choices now. The Colts had leapt into his hands with such tenderness that only true love can bring. He clipped the top of her brow with the butt of his right Colt. The cold metal slammed into Jenny's head. Jenny staggered, the gun she had behind her back falling to the ground.

Neal's left Colt was buried muzzle deep into Jenny's belly. "The slow way, if you'd like?" Neal winked, shutting the door with a quick kick. "Or shall we do the awkward bit?"

"J-james! P-please." Her breasts heaved. "I-I-I'll do anything you want." She licked at the blood that had trickled from her temple down to her lips. She blinked a few times.

Neal pressed the tip of the Colt in her belly deeper. "The awkward bit it is then, eh love?" He pushed the barrel of the right Colt into her cheek. "On your knees then."

"J-james-"

Neal whacked her in the forehead against with the butt of his Colt. She staggered. He kicked out her left knee. She dropped to the ground. He kicked away her gun down the hallway. He slipped his left Colt back into its holster. "Figure it'd take what? Five minutes for the police to arrive after the first gun shot?"

"W-what? Jimmy...No..."

"Say my name." Neal eased the Colt's hammer back. "Go on."

"J-"

"Say the wrong name, and I'm going to put a bullet in your temple. You know I'm good for it." His voice was flat, matter of fact.

"Neal, please, I don't know what's wrong, but we can fix this."

"You just need to say yes or no from here on out. Any more and I'll put a bullet in your temple."

She opened her mouth then shut it again.

"Frosty. You came here to kill me."

She worked her lips for a long time, before she sighed and said, "Yes."

"You'll be missed if you don't report in."

"Yes."

"Do you know who I really am?"

"No."

"Do you know why they wanted you to kill me?"

"No."

"Do you know who she is?"

It looked again like she wanted to say more, but instead she said, "No."

Neal glanced at his watch, giving her an opportunity to spring to her feet. Before she got two feet down the hallway, he squeezed off two shots to her back centered on her heart. The 45-caliber bullets burst from the front of her chest spraying the floor in bone and blood.

Out of habit, he walked down the hallway and put a third bullet into the back of her head. He knelt down and confirmed the kill, taking no pleasure in the necessity of killing his handler. He retrieved her weapon and put it into her hand. He raised her hand and fired off a series of bullets into his kitchen.

His go bag was in the back of his pantry. He slung it over his back messenger style. He replaced clips, putting the partially spent cartridge into his go bag. He holstered it. He buttoned up his suit jacket. He did all of that in twenty-three seconds. He was outside and through to the next street two minutes before the first cop car showed up. He slipped into a taxi and took it to half a mile to where he kept the most pathetic looking car he'd been able to find. It was a junker. With rust holes and coughed out black smoke when it first started.

He tossed his go bag into the passenger seat and put a hoodie over his suit jacket. It was hot but it disguised his appearance enough for him to slip past four more police cars without notice. His car trundled down the back streets of the city, just another shit bucket amongst others.

He stopped and got out near one of the few remaining pay phones in the city. Picked up the receiver and pushed in a few quarters. He punched in a number wedged into his mind.

 

[Asa]

A commotion... Cops... Well avoid that area. She drove down back roads and eventually figured out her way to a nice little diner for a late dinner. No wine but that could be added to the shopping trip he next day. For tonight it was to dine and rest before a whirlwind day of her own. Provided there was not another job waiting for her.

 

[kizkiz]

If only they liked the same type of food...

"Yo yo leave a message after the beeeep!" An annoying beep emitted itself.

Neal chuckled. "Yo, beotch. Got some shit up in here. Need ya like always brotha. I'll be here. Peace." Wearing a hoodie over a suit jacket with suit pants didn't make for his best disguise. He backed into the alley, tossed his go bag down. He pulled out a pair of faded blue jeans, wife beater, and flannel shirt. He also had a Seagulls baseball cap to finish off the ensemble. He used a trick he'd learned somewhere that involved two plastic bags and a bit of origami to fold up his suit so it wouldn't get wrinkled. When finished it took up as much space as a can of Pringles. He stuffed that into his go bag and put his Colt's into special compartments to make them easier to get to.

He emerged from the alley and j-walked the street under a serenade of angry horns. He gave them the finger and continued on into a Waffle House. He took a seat near the front where he could see the pay phone and the rest of the street. There was a diner from which people came and went in spurts. On the other side of the alley was a Walgreens. This part of town had small oasis of commerce amongst a sea of urban decay. This was one of the smaller ones, only four shops on either side of the street including a corner grocery on the other side of the diner.

"Whaddya want, sugar?"
Neal looked up from beneath the brim of his baseball cap and grunted. "Chicken and waffles, ma'am."

Now that the waitress got a better look at the face beneath the hat, she perked up. "Fo so, baby. You need anything else now, holla."

"Oh and a milk, ma'am." Neal ducked the bill of his hat in respect.

The waitress blushed and winked at him, before backing away, turning around, and shouting the order at the cook behind the counter. She puttered around the restaurant refilling coffee and water here and there.

Neal lowered the bill of his hat and kept most of his attention on the street. There was an exit past the bathrooms around the back of the Waffle House. This place had decent sight lines and enough blight around it to keep traffic low. As counter intuitive as that seemed when someone wanted to hide in plain sight, it made it easier to spot people that didn't fit. He kept is go bag pushed up against the window. He'd mashed a napkin folded into a triangle against the window and the pack kept his signal in place.

 

[Asa]

She walked into the diner and nodded to one of the waitresses as she said hello.

Deanna... Bout time you got back?

She smiled as the waitress pointed out her section and she took a seat with her back to the wall. She could see the entire place but was somewhat hidden by the counter so many sat at. She simply nodded when asked if she wanted her usual. This place was nothing anyone would expect to meet her tastes and likes but it was cozy and void of too many strangers. Deanna walked over moments later with her order.

Any idea what all the commotion was about down the road?

Deanna shrugged.

Nope two of our regulars on the force took off like their asses were on fire when a call came through. Strangest thing though... Their radios were silent the call came through text?

Deanna shrugged and went about helping other customers. Hearing that she was curious... She might just have to have another fling with a cop and see what she can learn about instances like that. She ate in silence keeping an eye out as she relaxed. Relax... Not something she ever truly did it seemed even though she did seem to enjoy trying to relax.

 

[kizkiz]

Neal tore into his waffle, patting on a hunk of fried chicken. The syrup was over flowing over the whole morsel as it entered his mouth. He grinned. He wasn't sure why he liked it but just felt nostalgic.

"Yo yo yo." A guy in a hoodie dove into the booth seat opposite Neal. The man's face was hidden in the shadow of his hood, but he looked unshaven and dark skinned. "Oh that looks good," he said, grabbing a hunk of fried chicken and cramming it into his mouth.

Neal lifted his head up, grinning at the new arrival. "Hey, get some of your own fucking food." He cordoned off his plate with his left arm. "This is mine, bitch." Neal's eyes slitted, and he growled.

"Jeez-us man, chill with your waffles and shit, m'kay?!"

Neal didn't respond, he just shuffled more waffle-chicken-syrup into his mouth. After a few more bites when the silence had begun to get awkward, he said, "It'll look weird if you don't order."

"Yo, yah you girl, c'mon over." The hoodie man said, gesturing at the waitress. When she showed up, he added, "I'll take a plate of that, coo?"

"Sure." She said and rolled her eyes. She shambled over to the counter and bellowed out the order, then resumed her place to the side of the counter folding napkins.

"All good, yo?"

"Yeah sure."

"So what's up man. Been forever ever."

"Well it's this," Neal said, pushing the photo across the table.

The man took it and laughed. "You shitting me? Gone all stalker and shit? Just post on Craig's list, missed connections, way less creepy."

"Yeah go fuck yourself."

"Fine, sure, whatever man. When you show up at her door uninvited, ain't going to be on me."

"The blood, you see that written on the back?"

"Yeah, I ain't blind."

"I want to know if it's mine or hers."

"Yeah sure. Hocuspocus." The man slipped the photo into some pocket beneath his hoodie and then fell into random small talk as he ate the plate delivered by the waitress.

The pair chatted amicably for about twenty minutes before they settled their bill and departed together. Except as soon as they left the Waffle House, they split up.

 

[Asa]

The next day she had everything planned out. A day of shopping dining and dancing. The first part of the day went smoothly enough till she was sitting down in a old world looking opulent Mediterranean restaurant for lunch. She had just placed her order shooed away the wandering minstrel and appeared to be looking in her purse as the chair across from her moved.

I know he hired you? What was his offer I will double!

A red dot appeared on the mans crotch as her eyes slowly looked him in the eyes.

Zhang... I have a different use for you now that I have your attention. I require one of your medical associates to analyze something for me. As for who hired me and what I may or may not have done... Look at it this way... You now have a clean slate to build from with far fewer drug addicts drunks and idiots... You're welcome.

The man nodded and held his hands up in resigned agreement.

I will have him meet you. Where to meet you?

She smiled.

I know where his "shop" is and if any of his or your associates try to move against me while I am there...

She laughed and motioned her hand to dismiss him. He glared for a moment but remembered the red dot and quickly left. She sat back and enjoyed her chicken and salad and wine planning out her next stop.

 

[kizkiz]

Neal spent the night in a climate controlled storage shed that he had 24-hour access to. It was one of a handful of such emergency safe houses he kept in key locations throughout the world. In his home city, he kept a few plus several depots where he could resupply with a fresh go bag filled with the essentials. This room wasn't bad as far as safe houses went. There were a few car batteries to supply additional power to electronics. He used the battery's for light in case someone was looking at the power utilization throughout the building during midnight. He spent a few hours repainting the picture he'd given to Hocuspocus.

He'd felt jittery not having some physical substantiation for the feelings and half-memories of his time together. It felt weird to call her his true love, as he had long since given up on Disney fairy tales, but there it was. Somehow this girl he could only half remember completed him in a way no one else ever had or could.

He got a decent six hour stretch of sleep, and made breakfast out of instant oatmeal on his propane camping stove. He added a protein bar to give his muscles the fuel they needed. And while he waited to hear back from Hocuspocus he painted and used Tor to follow what what they city's law enforcement was up to. He was looking for the signature of someone else like him yet not like him. It was a long shot that she lived in the same city as him, but he was trained to be thorough.

Hocuspocus called the agreed upon burner phone at 1:34pm.

"Yo yo."

"Hey brother man," Hocuspocus said on the other line. "It's not yours. It'll take another day to get details."
"Mitochondrials?"

"Yeah, those too. If she's like your crazy ass, it'll show for shore. Hahaha. Need some smokes?"

"Nah, I'm tight. Thanks bro."

Neal returned to painting until his search bots, RSS feed aggregators, and machine learning algorithms turned up a cluster of deaths tagged in relation to local Chinese syndicate known only as Zhang. Originally attributed to Yakuza rivals, some blogs were speculating it was a third party. An undisclosed source was cited on a few blogs as saying the deaths were too perfect. There was a leak of autopsy reports on Wikileaks.

Neal put on another disguise, this time instead of a street thug, he became an Indian with the appropriate dark skin, brown eyes, and traditional Kurta. He walked without a care in the world, doing like recon of the river where a body was found electrocuted and the site were a street racer burned to death in a violent car crash. Then he visited a few older locations.

He spotted a few different tails, which were easy to slip but did confirm his suspicions.

 

[Asa]

Finishing her meal she opted for a nice little stroll through the local markets of a little hippie neighborhood. As she shopped she got a call from Deanna. Listening she smiled. Shootout in the art district. She would need to check that out.

 

[kizkiz]

Shoot out at the art district

The call came towards mid-afternoon. "Yo," Neal said, ducking into an ally. His speak pattern was now at odds with his costume.

"Hey bro, we need an, umm, legit sit down, yeah."

"You sure dawg?"

"Yeah."

"The old lady will be pissed. Hmm, but okay."

"Cya beotch."

"Fuck you shitface," Neal said and hung up.

His lips compressed not quite frowning. He turned and finished his painting of her. This one was a closeup of just her face but she seemed to be receding into smoke. As he did he mulled over the implications of his call and didn't like them. Especially when Hocuspocus dropped one of their caution words. Neal needed the information, so he just needed to figure out how to turn this to his advantage or at least minimize the fall out.

He took a bike, switching costumes again into an old man. The bike was something straight out of a 1950s with sky blue paint and a large basket in front. Neal took the opportunity to enhance his go-bag with a few packages and set out for the Museum of Fine Art in the art district. It was a nice place but on Thursday's it was packed because Thursday's were free admittance compliments of Wilthrop-Grumm, one of the big multi-nationals that had their US presence headquartered in this city.

He dropped a few goodies into the toilets near the painting. He left two packages outside along potential escape routes. Instead of his sling bag, he had a satchel set over his lap. He hunched down on the bench before the painting of the "Lady in Waiting." The lady looked pissed at something happening out of sight. Some likened it to the complement of the Mona Lisa or at least Wilkheim's retort to that other painting's success. As such, most assumed that the Lady was looking at Mona.

Hocuspocus walked up to a young man staring at a painting about ten feet down from where Neal was. The young man had only the most cursory resemblance to Neal. As Hocuspocus opened his mouth reaching out to touch the young man from behind, the youth's head exploded. Blood went everywhere.

Neal rose, dipping his hand into his satchel and pulled out a Colt. He spotted the shooter, who was turning to put a bullet into Hocuspocus' head. Neal squeezed off two rounds. The first clipped the shooter in the shoulder, spinning the assailant. The second took out a huge chunk of the shooter's lower jaw.

"To me!" Neal roared. He couldn't let Hocuspocus die before he got what he needed. As Hocuspocus ran through the shocked crowd, Neal tossed the Colt. Hocus caught it. They took the stairs two at a time. Bullets flying behind them. At least three other gunners where in pursuit. Random people had just congealed from the crowd with guns. Two of which Neal hadn't even marked.

Then the clock struck 5 o'clock and the chemical solvent finished its reaction with the water and the toilets in the nearby bathroom exploded in foul smelling smoke.

They fought throughout the museum, but Neal only managed to take out one of the shooters. The other two were his match, while he was shackled with Hocus. Hocus was decent with a gun and knew basic evasion craft, but not to the level Neal needed. Neal had Hocus shed the hoodie and ditch the gun. Neal did likewise with his satchel and suit jacket. His pants tore away as well. Neal stuffed it all into a nearby garbage can. So that in a few seconds he looked like an athletic jogger more so than an old man. They did all that just in time. The toilet explosion's chemical smoke triggered the fire suppression system. Instead of water, chalk shot out everywhere. People bolted. Neal held on to Hocus and used the crowd for cover.

Everyone spilling out of the museum looked like identical white ghosts. It was impossible to tell one person from the next.

There were police and fire fighters already on the scene and an attempt was made to corral and dissect the crowd, but there was just too many. The sea of humanity pushed past barriers and overran into the parking lot. They followed the throng of humanity. As the majority was reaching the parking lot, Neal withdrew a trigger from his athletic pants. When he pulled the trigger, two explosions went off at the two likely exit points. Points Neal hopped his opponent had sent the people following them.

A program back at the safe house, which had been running all along, noted the fire alarm and police chatter as well as the defaults Neal had programmed. It triggered the Uber APIs. Waiting in the parking lot was an UberX. A car that didn't stick out like a yellow cab would have. Neal dragged Hocus towards the car.

 

[Asa]

She had thought of a museum visit but the cops and commotion quickly changed her mind. The city felt "too hot" as she quickly changed her plans and headed to a bed and breakfast she knew of outside of town. Going with nothing but her new purchases she made good time getting there. The Southern Magnolia was a stunning old home. A replica of the plantation mansions of old. She also love the food and the atmosphere of the little community it called home. She checked in and once all of her things were put away she went to the honeysuckle cafe next door and had a nice dinner. She then walked along the shops and then back to her room.

 

[kizkiz]

The programs were running in not just one but three of his safe houses, which were really just two climate controlled storage sheds and an abandoned freight container on the docks. Neal switched UberX cars seven different times. They would abandon one car in the middle of gridlock, walk down an alley and catch another waiting on the corner. The second they got out, went through a building, and exited out the other side to hop in the waiting car. It went like changing cars in random situations and places designed to draw out tails and make their trail cold. Their final stop was at the YMCA on Third Street. Neal had stashed a change of clothes for both of them in a pair of go bags in the back of the locker room with a heavy gauge, bolt cutter proof pad lock. The YMCA didn't try to get into lockers unless it'd been over a week, and Neal had setup that drop before going to meet Hocus.

They stole a pair of bikes from the rack outside the YMCA and rode around town like bike messengers until they arrived at the Benniger Building on Sixty-Ninth and Broadway. Their they went into the parking garage and hopped into Jeep Cherokee Neal kept stashed for when he needed to get away. It was filled with camping and survival gear and had a place to put their stolen bikes. They looked like just a bunch of nine-to-fivers trying to get away for a weekend in the country.

They road across the turnpike and out of the city.

Hocus breathed a sigh and titled his head back, laughing. "I thought I was donzo. Fucking D-O-A. Shit brother but you are a whole other kind of cool."

Neal crooked a smile, finally letting himself relax. He'd forbade anything but the most superficial of small talk until they were out of the city. "We can't have the city deprived of high grade ecstasy now can we?"

"Really dude? You going to be like that?"

Neal tilted his head back and laughed. "Okay, so tell me why I saved your ass."

"Well, I always said if I had more than just your DNA I could find some shit out. Well buried in your girls blood, it is a girl's DNA and not yours, well in there are some markers. Not that your related like brother or sister, but more like someone's put their initials. It's encrypted somehow. Not binary but not ascii either." He shrugged. "I was throwing some heavy code at figuring out what the hell it was when those people came."

"And?"

"Well, there is some weird shit in both your DNA. You know how I said you weren't quite human. I mean you are closer than a chimp, you know like only a few million changes verse the 35 million or so between us, umm, err humans a chimps. Some of those differences you have in common with her and some you don't." He shrugged, looking in the glove box. "Shit man no smokes?"

"It's an easy mark."

"Fuck, so no smoking from here on out, because I'll go nuts man."

Their conversation veered more into the mundane and they chatted a while longer about drugs and addictions more than about alien DNA. It was an easy way to pass a few hours until Neal found himself pulling off the road to grab some gas. He choose one of the small forgotten towns twenty miles from the highway. He still had half a tank, but when evading potential pursuit it was always best to remain prepared. Part of him wanted to run for Monaco or maybe Brazil, but he was so sure she was still in the city. He'd set off enough flares that if someone was looking for him, and that someone was as good or better than he was, then they'd know he was in the city as well.

What finally settled him on stopping at the tiny bed-and-breakfast right on the outskirts of town was the smell of apple pie. The air was perfumed with cinnamon and caramelized apples. It felt warm and comfortable. It reminded him of her. So they pulled into the parking lot of the Golden Magnolia a bit after four in the morning.

A plump old lady in a white apron emerged from the kitchen when Neal came through the front door. "Oh hello dear."

"Hi ma'am," Neal said, dropping into a southern drawl to match the women's Georgian, southern bell accent.

She brightened up. "Oh my, it's early yet for you to be out, no?"

"Well, I was going to push on for Cedarfalls, but my buddy fell asleep and I smelled your pie, so..."

She chuckled, gesturing for him to follow her over to the counter. "Well, just jot your name down here and I'll need a copy of your driver's license and a credit card, if you are going to stay a day or two."

Neal nodded his head. "Yes, ma'am. I think we'll stay at least long enough to catch a little shut eye and maybe sample your baking, if it pleases you. Don't want to be a bother."

"None sense, dear." She took the fake driver's license and credit card from Neal, but didn't seem to notice they were fakes. She made her copies and handed them back. "One room or two?"

Neal chuckled, "Two will do ma'am. He's a good friend, but his feet stink something awful and his snoring ain't much better."

She joined in with a hearty laugh of her own.

Neal took the keys and departed. He left most of the gear in the car, just taking his sling bag. Hocus followed suit and they both left for their rooms.

 

[Asa]

Early morning noise... She was up and armed. Concealing the nighthawks in her jacket she made her way downstairs.

Annabelle... Everything okay?

She walked over to the older woman. She really didn't remember how she knew the owner or why this place had always felt safe it just was and she merely knew Annabelle.

Honey you feel so lightly I think a June but burp would wake you up. Everything is fine just bad some travelers show up... It happens now get on back to sleep everything t just fine.

Annabelle shooed her back upstairs with a not taking no for an answer attitude. Annabelle knew who they both were. After all she was the wife of the man that hired and hand trained them. It should not be surprising that she would run the best kept secret safehouse. Even those arrogant money hungry asholes who took over the organization didn't know about this safehouse. It was only buried in the minds of very select operatives.

She placed a call. Commotion in the city and both of them on her doorstep in the same 24 hours... Something was up. When the phone called was answered she simply said. My babies are home from university. With that she hung up and went about preparing them a big old fashioned breakfast.

 

[kizkiz]

Breakfast

Neal did manage to convince Annabel to give him a slice of apple pie before bed, and he'd left enough of it uneaten that he woke up to the smell of cinnamon and nutmeg. It reminded him of her. Of her hands on him and his hands on her body. He felt at peace and at home in a way that had been missing since before his memories had be fractured so he could become so many different people but never any one whole person.

It was only eight o'clock, but he'd never needed large gobs of sleep like others. He felt lazy if he got more than six hours, and right now he felt pleasant. He took twenty minutes extracting himself out of his bed, stowing one of his Colts back into its hiding place in his sling bag. He didn't feel comfortable enough to shower, but he took a quick bath so that was saying something. Usually he'd get by with a wash cloth and only cleaning the essential areas of his body when executing pursuit evasion. His guns were always close enough.

He resumed his costume as the white-collar-turned-weekend-outdoorsmen. He had cargo shorts and polyester undershirt with a gray hoodie overtop. His sling bag was tossed across his back. He had nice leather hiking boots to round out the costume. Hocus had three sets of similar looking clothes, although Neal had had to guess the man's sizes.

He did a final sweep of the room, committing every detail and placement to memory. He'd notice if even the smallest thing was out of his place. It's what his eyes did. They consumed the world and remodeled it in his brain. It was a form of photographic memory but only the for the world. Things that he could paint. In other ways it was more than photographic memory, because if he wanted to he could move around and explore different perspectives and variations. Right now, he just kept a running log of any detail that was out of place. Anything that might not fit with the image of a sleeping bed and breakfast. He plotted escape routes and what tactics he'd use if someone tried to knife him in the hallway or start a gun fight on the wide stairwell leading from the second floor bedrooms to the first floor entryway.

There were signs of people having eaten recently in the large dinning room table, but no people present. Neal took a seat and although he shouldn't, he couldn't help himself. He started to doodle on one of the newspapers that had been left behind with a pencil someone had been using to work through the crossword puzzle. The doodles blossomed into little details about her that his mind had clung to despite some force trying to rid himself of those memories. He sketched the way the light of a lamp had refracted when it struck her eye. Then how right thumb had had a chip in the nail and the receding traces of nail polish that clung to edges.

 

[Asa]

She finally returned down stairs for breakfast a few hours later. She had slept late 10 am but that felt normal for her here. She wore a sundress and sandals as she pulled her hair back with a clip or so it looked. The clip actually held in its designs a dart just long enough and heavy enough to be thrown and take out an artery. Two little keys for lock picking and when fully broken down it was in fact a very strong little chain for choking a target to death. She called out Annabelle once she was downstairs.

Anything left for breakfast?

Sweetie go sit down our other guests are all milling about and I am fixing up plates for everyone.

Annabelle smiled to her. There was something strange in the old woman's eyes and tone but not threatened or alarmed but a possible... Covert happiness. Dismissing the change for now but making mental note of it she made her way to the dining room table.

 

[kizkiz]

Hello stranger.

He knew someone was there. He'd caught the movement in his peripheral vision. He raised his head and swung his body around, rising from the chair in one fluid motion. His hand had been in his bag, but they had a communication line to his eyes that superseded his brain. Before he could even register that it was her, he'd ditched his bag.

It should have been awkward like asking a girl to dance for the first time. They didn't know each other. He had no real memories of her. Just some smells and sensations, but nothing real or concrete. But it wasn't weird. It was like coming home. No matter how long you'd been away or how much of an asshole you'd been...you could always come home. He'd never truly understood that until he was in her presence.

Words couldn't convey what he felt. Only actions could. His body was made for speed. He covered the distance, took her in his arms, and swung her around in a circle like he was some idiot on television. Then he slowed their orbit around each other and just held her to his body. He wanted to merge his body with hers so that they could never be apart every again. If they became one then they could never be two pieces lost and adrift.

His arms slung low around her delicious hips squeezed. His groin pressed into hers. His chest smooshed against her breasts. And finally, he lips against hers. His tongue entwined in hers. Their breaths one harmonious passage of conjoined air.

 

[Asa]

No... To find him... The man from the photo... Here... Did this explain Annabelle's strange happiness? Ora trick... A trap? Then he was holding her... Kissing her instinct or some hidden memory pressed back into the kiss before her mind fought to place a bit of distance between them. Wary this was a trap her body shifted and her stance ready to fight.

How... How do I know you?

 

[kizkiz]

But it was not to be. She pushed back against him, and he receded from his consumption of her. Instead he feasted upon her face with his eyes. Noting the minutest of details like the placement of every pore, the number of eyelashes, and the tiny scars at the base of her right ear.

She asked him, "How...how do I know you?"

The response rushed out his mouth before he had a chance to consider it. "How does one hand recognize the other?" He still clung to her. He couldn't let go of the best thing in his life, even as the realization that her feelings for him were not the same as his for her. No, black depression lurked just beyond. Was she really rejecting him? "I know you. Your smell. Your touch. I just do. Don't you?"

 

[Asa]

The picture... But who wanted me to find you? What sort of trick.

She shook her head as a very firm headache slammed into her mind. It was trying to remember him and what she thought was the real her at the same time.

Target or what?

She winced again.

 

[kizkiz]

Broken little things

Her response hurt. "The picture... But who wanted me to find you? What sort of trick."

What did she mean? How could these feelings be a trick? Yes, they'd crafted entire lives for Neal to inhabit. They'd somehow fractured his psyche so he could be different people so perfectly that he was them. But those were just masks and facades. This felt so fucking real.

Then doubt crept into his mind. Hadn't all those other personalities felt real in the moment? Until someone or somehow he was woken up? Triggered...

She voiced his own thoughts better than he could have. "Target or what?"

He saw her pain. The harsh lines around her eyes and lips as she winced. Her elevated breathing. Her shaking. She was fighting this. Had they been trying to cancel out two unwanted assets? Was this just a confident way to tidy up loose ends.

"No!" He shouted. "I refuse to believe I'm your target and your mine. You aren't a loose end damnit! I won't do it. Kill me then. Just do it."

His hands slackened and his knees gave out. He slumped to the floor before her, tilting his head up at her so he could see her one last time before she killed him. "Be quick at least. And goodbye my love. Thank you."

 

[Asa]

Annabelle seemed to appear from nowhere and looked to an old man in a suit barrelling through the door. Annabelle was helping her to her room and the old man looked to Neil.

Its been a long time Neil. Glad to see my little glitch worked in your mind. Berkhardt must have handled her reintegration of mind. Damn vindictive little pisant. Annabelle will help her you and I should talk.