ANGELS AND GHOSTS
CHAPTER FIVE

The New Assignment

Intrigued, Rachael read all the details of her latest assignment.

Melissa Anne Harvey, dob 5/21/1976; current address; 30 Cedar Drive, Chicago.

Rachael had successfully completed nineteen assignments, and one thing they all had in common was their gender, so this assignment would be interesting, although there was one un-appealing aspect. Chicago, 600 miles away, meaning that she would have to check into a motel for a few weeks to properly track the target’s movements.

Rachael hated Chicago, because that was where the event that changed her life had happened. She now hated the hustle and bustle on Chicago streets, and she hated all the wankers and suck-holes that called Chicago home. Unfortunately, money didn’t grow on trees, money came her way when she sent another ass-hole to meet their maker, so Rachael read the file.

Melissa Anne Harvey

Responsible for the death of Redmond Charles Harvey, age 50 (dob; 6/15/1964; date of disappearance; 7/14/2013)

Target married Redmond’s father, Charles Edmond Harvey, (deceased; dob; 2/12/1931; dod; 4/11/2012) on 9/17/ 2000. Pre-nuptial has been sighted; target to be given $5,000,000- and a yearly increment of $250,000- from the substantial Harvey estate, on the death of said Charles Edmond. Charles Edmond Harvey died of natural causes 4/11/2012.

Redmond Charles Harvey was to receive all remaining assets from the estate, the value estimated possibly as high as $20,000,000-. No notations recorded for what would happen to estate if Redmond Charles passed away; ie, legal black hole, but target’s solicitor put in a claim for the full estate five months after the death of said, Redmond Charles. The legal tussle is still being fought by the opposing lawyers. Redmond Charles Harvey’s children, Nathan 21, and Amelia 19 are convinced target organised to have their father disposed of. Our contacts have confirmed that;

Bryan Taylor (boyfriend/lover of target) contacted Mark Colling re organising hitman.

Under threat of being turned over to police, Taylor admitted his role in the plan.

Colling rolled over as well, admitting that he was paid $5,000- to set the plan in motion.

Colling contacted Tony Bliviano (small time local hood with underworld connections) and Bliviano was paid $10,000- to organise hitman.

Hitman identified as Michael Pordisi, aka Mikey Ford, aka Charles Marcella; whereabouts unknown, possibility that he may be overseas.

Bliviano stated that he met with target personally to receive the money ($300,000- of which Bliviano pocketed a further $30,000-)

Bliviano doesn’t know where the body is.

SUMMARY; target, Melissa Anne Harvey organised it.

OBJECTIVE (secondary); Redmond’s children want body located in order to afford their father a proper burial. If Bliviano doesn’t know where body is, very much doubt that target will know, but pursue her on the location, as a large financial incentive is available if body is recovered.

OBJECTIVE (primary); eliminate target. (the children want target to suffer, and are paying accordingly).

It all made sense, although Rachael wanted a few points clarified.

She rang on her business cell, the prepaid one. She regularly discarded her business phone, turning it over roughly every three months, then buying another one from her local contact. He called himself Butter, although Rachael thought that a more appropriate nickname would be Gutter. A local small-time thief, Butter had asked her once, ‘How come you keep buying stolen phones off me?’

Rachael had replied, ‘You wanna sell me the phone, or do you want me to send you up-state for a little stint?’

No more questions from Butter.

“Hi.” came her agent’s voice.

“Hey, yeah read the file and satisfied, although a few things are troubling me.”

“Such as?”

“If I eliminate target, presumably Redmond’s children will get the whole estate.”

“I’m not sure, although that could be a possibility.”

“So I’m thinking that it’s in the children’s interest to dispose of her so that they can get their hands on the estate, including the target’s share.”

“I’ve met both the children a few times, and they are young adults, and this isn’t about money, it’s about revenge.”

“Yeah?”

“Little One, the target organised to have their father killed, so the children want revenge.”

“Okay, well I shouldn’t doubt you.”

“As per the information sheet, all the low-hanging fruit involved have owned up to their part in the plan, so now it’s up to you to shake the tree and get a confession out of the instigator.”

“Sure, will do.”

“One thing I left off the summary was the payment.”

“How much?”

“Nice one, one-hundred and fifty thousand.”

“Hooo, fuck-a-ninny!”

“Plus all expenses will be covered, so if you need to hire anyone to assist you, the cost will be reimbursed.”

“Sounds good.”

“Contact me if you need anything, and good luck.”

“Okay, well I’ll go and see the Big Boy tonight.” Rachael stated, then after thinking about it, she added sombrely, “I hate fucking Chicago though.”

“You’re not visiting my dear, you’re working.”

“Yeah, but you know, Chicago was where it happened.”

“Ohhh, Trevor.”

“Trent, his name was Trent.”

Contemplative silence, until the contact came in compassionately, “You’ll be working, so simply direct your focus to the job at hand.”

“Hmmm, okay, and I’ll be taking Marco with me.”

“Sure, just prepare a fully itemised account and everything will be covered.”

*

Rachael skipped down the stairs, double-knocked, then entered.

“Fuck,” she snorted as she walked into the study, “Put it away!”

“Shit Rachael, why didn’t you wait for me to answer!” Marco bellowed.

He tucked it back into his track pants, or forced it back into his track pants, then glared at her as he said indignantly, “Double knock, wait for my response, then enter!”

“What’s the matter? It isn’t like I’ve never seen your boner before, so stop being a fuckwit!”

Marco looked up sullenly, “I was just getting intimate with Ivana from St Petersburg, Russia.”

“I’m sure she’ll survive without seeing your cumm all over the screen.”

“Jesus, I never cumm on the screen, I mean this is an eight-thousand-dollar computer!” he protested.

“Whatever, just pack.”

“Pack, where we going?”

“Chicago.”

“What, you hate Chicago.”

“Doesn’t everybody?” she questioned, then she followed up, “And go into the bathroom and shave off your beard.”

“What?”

“You’re coming with me, so your appearance needs to alter.”

Marco leant back in the chair and shook his head, “No, sorry, not the beard; the beard is me, me is the beard.”

“You’ll be getting a big bag of cash, so you do what I tell you.”

“How much?” he asked.

“It all depends on how long it takes, but I’ll be marking you down for three hundred a day.”

“So if it takes say three weeks, I’ll be looking at more than six grand?”

“Something like that, although it is Chicago, and I’ll be looking to get it done in the shortest possible time.”

“Ohhh yeah, that’s where it happened with your ex.”

“Don’t want to talk about it,” she muttered, then she said impatiently, “Just get in the bathroom and shave.”

Marco lathered up and stared at his reflection, then he said hesitantly, “Jesus Teriny, it’s gunna take me two months to grow this baby back.”

“Marco my friend, just do it already.”

“With the beard, everybody says that I look like the Comic Shop Guy from The Simpson’s.”

“Yeah, true enough, so in two months-time you’ll look like him again.”

Marco’s mind was ticking over, and he turned to her and grumbled, “Nahh sorry; I can’t do it.”

“Jesus you’re a fucking pussy, just do it!”

“Easy for you say, I mean I have to shave off something that has been a part of me since I was nineteen, then you’re gunna uproot me and I’ll be away from my own environment for who knows how long,” he said, shaking his head again, “I’m going to need a few powerful incentives to even consider this.”

“The incentive is three hundred dollars a day.”

He gazed at her as he asked, “And?”

“What?”

“What else?”

Rachael sighed, then muttered, “Yeah, the occasional blowie.”

Marco shook his head, “No sorry, you need to be more specific.”

“You’re a fucking pig!” she snorted, “Two a week for the duration.”

“Are we going to be rooming together?”

“Yes, but separate beds of course.”

“Okay, so here’s the deal,” he began brightly, “Three blowies a week, plus when you’re doing it, you have to be naked.”

Rachael leant down to glare at him, then she spat out, “Two a week, and if you keep being a fuckwit, there’ll be no blowies because I’ll cut your dick off!”

Marco shook his head and declared, “Okay, I’m not going!”

Rachael looked to the ceiling and blew out in frustration. Three a week, well yeah, she could probably afford that fifteen minutes; but strip down for him? She needed him with her, so reluctantly she mumbled, “Fuck, alright, but if I have to do it naked, it’s only two a week.”

“Yay!” he cheered.

He brought the razor up to his chin and said, “Any maybe while you’re whacking me, I can reverently touch your bits.”

Rachael had to laugh at his persistence, then she threatened, “Touch me and I won’t only cut your dick off, I’ll cut your hands off as well!”

Marco was satisfied as he said, “Yeah, we’ll just see what happens.”

“Ohhh, by the way, I’ll buy you a fold-up walking frame.”

“How come?”

“Well for the duration of the operation, the frame will be your mode of transport.”

“I’ve got a wheelchair.”

“Dickhead, a wheelchair makes us conspicuous!”

“Arrhh Rach, don’t know whether you’ve noticed, but I ain’t real good at walking.”

“Once you’re in the motel, you can just sit on your fat ass until we’ve finished.”

“So what’s this; I could be cooped up for weeks with nowhere to go, and now you’re depriving me of my preferred method of mobility?”

“I’ve seen you with a walking frame, and you can shuffle with the best of them.”

“No really-”

“End of discussion!” she interrupted.

After looking at the newly-shaved face, Rachael had to suppress a laugh. He looked like a big kid, and she wanted to say, Yeah, I understand why you have a beard! but no, she needed to keep him onside. She pulled her business cell out and lined him up, “Smile Fat Pudding.”

“How come?”

“I need a photo for your new driver’s license.”

“Ohh yeah, this is exciting!”

Rachael took a photo of the newly shaved face, then she moved over to the basin and soaped up her eyebrows.

Marco was curious, and he asked, “What are you doing?”

“We’re both getting driving licences, so you’re not the only one who has to make small sacrifices.”

“You’re gunna shave your eyebrows off?”

With fully soaped eyebrows, she turned to him and said drolly, “Wow, you are switched on, aren’t you?” Then she turned back to the mirror, and in a matter of minutes, a woman without eyebrows was staring back at her.

Satisfied, she began walking away as she said officiously, “We’ll be leaving on Friday, so make sure you’re ready.”

“I will be,” he gushed, “Can’t wait to see your puss!”

*

Rachael turned up the collar of her jacket, hailed a cab, and soon she was standing outside Vinnie’s Exotic Dancers. She hated going there, but he, he of the power and influence, he of the local Mafiosa, only entertained business acquaintances in this, the local titty bar, his titty bar.

Rachael was always amused by the bright neon signs. The main sign took pride of place at the top of the display, and resplendent with its surrounding flashing lights, it identified the premises; Vinnie’s Exotic Dancers, then underneath, the catch phrase, the phrase that had seen the place thriving for more than thirty years, Fully Nude!

Rachael had humped one of the dancers two years ago, Trinie, a voluptuous Spanish chick with sparkling dark eyes, and the night with Trinie had been grand, full of aggressive and submissive sex, although Rachael knew early on that the chick had an addiction problem. ‘Hey Tiger, can we take a time-out while I strap up?’

He, he of the power and influence had advised her last year that Trinie was no longer on the planet, as she’d had one hit too many.

Rachael hurried into the place, nodding at the guy in the ticket box, “Hi, the Boss is expecting me.”

Rachael walked towards the VIP area, noting that it was fairly busy for a Wednesday night, the music loud, Skid Rows, Cherry Pie booming out, the bass heavy, Rachael thinking to herself, Ohhh, how original; must be a new girl. She looked at the stage, a slim blond gyrating and expressing herself through tried and tested stripper moves. She looked cute, young, slim and petite, her breasts not blown up like balloons, her pert breasts bouncing with their own momentum. Rachael knew that Stripper Journey’s occasionally ended badly, and maybe she could come back here in three years time and she’d see the same girl, although she wouldn’t be dancing and gyrating with enthusiasm, she’d be dancing because she had to, and her breasts would be twice the size, only bouncing when she forced them to, and she’d have tattoo’s on her arms to cover up the needle marks. This young and slender blond didn’t seem like the stripper type, and Rachael watched her for a moment. If she had the opportunity, Rachael would pull her aside and tell her, This industry can chew you up and then spit you out, so Honey, do it for a couple of years, make your money, then get out … but no, maybe not. With her unusual occupation, and also with a growing list of unsavoury addictions, Rachael knew that she wasn’t the right person to give anyone advice. Having a final glance at the girl, she whispered, “Good luck Honey.” Then she climbed up the steps to the VIP area, although a large man moved into the aisle and blocked her. The man, obviously of Italian descent, looked intimidating and menacing, and he cautioned, “Whoo there, where do you think you’re going?”

“The Boss is expecting me.” Rachael replied, her tone of annoyance being quite obvious.

“Who are you?” he asked.

Fuck you Bucko … Rachael thought as she leant around him and waved, “Mr Cavello, hi!”

“It’s okay Jimmy, let her through.”

Rachael stood before him and said, “Can I speak to you in private?”

Cavello looked at the other three men sitting at the table, and all three rose and silently slunk away, one of them, Silvanio, glaring at her as he pushed past her.

Silvanio Rocello, the Bosses right hand man didn’t like her. Rocello had propositioned her two years ago, and Rachael had politely refused, although he was persistent, annoyingly persistent until she had to lay it on the line for him. ‘I’m not going to sleep with you, so just leave me alone!’ Rocello, a Neanderthal chauvinist in every way, had snarled at her; ‘A little slut like you knocking me back? It’ll happen one day, and when it does happen, it won’t be pleasant!’

Rachael would love to tell the Boss about him, although she didn’t want Rocello hating her any more than he already did, and besides, Cavello rarely turned on one of his own crew.

Rachael sat opposite him, “How are you Mr Cavello?”

“Whenever I see you, I feel better immediately.” Cavello replied, “How’s things with you?”

“Life is a journey, and I tip-toe along, and my tip-toeing means that I need a couple of ID’s.”

“Ohh dear, somebody’s in trouble.” Cavello smirked.

“No, not really, I’m just going to do a little sight-seeing.”

“Yeah sure, the female assassin obviously has another assignment,” he began, “The cute, gorgeous female assassin.”

Whenever she saw him, he always did this, always tried to come onto her. “I’m a bit pressed for time on this one; can your boys have it for me by tomorrow night?”

“Hmmm, cutting it a bit fine, although we could make a deal to hurry it along.”

Rachael sighed, knowing what the deal would involve, although to get things moving forward, she had to ask the question. “What kind of deal?”

He cocked his head and smiled, then said, “Maybe we can go upstairs and discuss it.”

Rachael blew out then straightened, looking him in the eye as she said, “Mr Cavello, I like you and I respect you, but me and you is never gunna happen.”

He sipped his drink then said, “I have a motto; never say never.”

“We’re business associates, and I appreciate everything you do for me, but as I’m sure you’ll agree, I pay you well for your services.”

“Yes, noted,” he replied, then he added, “Maybe I’ll just have to get a few of my men to abduct you one time.”

Rachael knew he was joking, and she never wanted to upset him in anyway, although she did occasionally have to draw up the boundaries. “If you tried, you may lose a few men.”

Cavello sipped his drink then smiled as he asked, “What are you after?”

“Two driver’s licenses.”

Cavello rang his contact, and an hour later, Rachael was at the house.

She put the black wig on, clipped the large nose-ring onto her left nostril, pasted the fake eyelashes on, then the man took the photo. Rachael opened her business cell to give him the photo of Marco, then she said, “With my photo, enlarge my nose and fatten my face, and with this one, slim his face please.”

“Yeah, to what? What dimensions?”

“Just make them realistic thanks.”

“Fuck.” the man huffed.

Rachael hadn’t met this guy before, and he seemed gruff and surly, so Rachael said politely, “I’m a good friend of Mr Cavello’s.”

“Names, addresses, date of birth?” he asked snappily.

Rachael handed him the piece of paper that she had written the information on, then she said, “Mr Cavello said that they should be ready by tomorrow night.”

“Jesus,” the man muttered, “Yeah, okay.”

*

Rachael spent the next day planning the trip.

In a time sense, hiring a car would be the quickest way to get to Chicago, although hiring a car would mean that her new alias, Corinna Louise Jenkins had hired a car in Brocksley and then travelled to Chicago, and the motel clerk in Chicago would note down the registration number in the motels records.

The train it would be; pay cash, no identification needing to be sighted.

She would hire a car in Chicago, but that was okay, because her new alias Corinna Louise Jenkins lived in Chicago.

*

By late Saturday morning, Corinna Louise Jenkins and Simon Mark Jenkins booked into a motel.

Marco’s legs and lower back were giving him buggery, and he flopped on to the bed as he moaned, “Fuck this!”

“What’s the matter?”

“What’s the matter?” he snorted, “I’ve walked more in the last day than I have for the last three years, and my legs are screaming at me!”

“Ohhh, Fat Pudding, you are a brave little soldier aren’t you, and now you can rest the legs for the next couple of weeks.”

“God, so sore,” he moaned, then he gazed at her, “Massage my legs, will ya?”

Rachael eyed him suspiciously, then stated, “Okay, legs only.”

“Rachael, I don’t want a blowie while I’m so sore,” he replied, then he added, “Although the first blowie should be tonight!”

Rachael shook her head then sat on the bed next to him, unbuckling the knee brace. The brace had been her idea, It makes your shuffling look less conspicuous, because it looks like you’ve had a knee operation.

She pulled his track pants off, then Marco rolled onto his stomach. Rachael worked on his lower back, then both calves, then the thighs.

Marco sighed, “Ohhh Corinna, I love being married to you.”

“Shut-up, or else tonight’s blowie will be in jeopardy.”

Comfortable and relaxed, Marco said confidently, “No, I know you; you always keep your word.”

“Well I never bullshit to my friends.”

“I know, and I love being your best friend.”

“Excuse me, you’re my least favourite friend, but if you died, I’d go, Awwww, that’s sad.”

“Teriny, I love you.”

“Anyway, I’ll go and get us something to eat, but I have an errand to run first.”

“Doing?”

“I’m just going to pop into the cemetery.”

“Ohhh, the ex.”

“This is the targets name and address,” she said as she placed a piece of paper beside him, “So set up and get to work.”

An hour later, Rachael stood at headstone. The plot seemed well maintained, and Rachael bowed her face. She did have cause to wonder why she had come, because she had no intention of saying a prayer for him, or offering words of comfort and support, so in reality, the exercise was pointless. She would still see him in her nightmares, teary and trembling, and the BOOM would still wake her up in the middle of the night, the sound rattling around her mind as the horrific event flooded back in.

Rachael walked away, mumbling, “Fucking asshole.”

*

By late evening, Marco shuffled into the shower, then shortly after, naked, he shuffled back into the room.

Rachael noticed him heading for the double bed, so she called out, “Hey Plumpasauras, I’m in the double!”

“No way, I’m bigger than you, and I’d fall out of that crappy little single bed.”

“Shit.”

Marco flopped onto the double, then pushed himself up, a huge smile on his face as he said excitedly, “Okay Gorgeous, unveil the Terina package for me!”

Rachael stood up and pulled the wig off, then ripped her t-shirt off and flung it away.

Marco advised politely, “Teriny, do it sensuously, undress provocatively.”

Rachael shook her head. She didn’t have a problem with nudity, actually, she liked to strut around naked, because she liked looking at herself, liked impressing herself, and she knew that this Bozo would just about go into cardiac arrest if she did strip provocatively; but this wasn’t about exciting him, it was about her sticking to her word. She undid her bra and discarded it, quickly stepped out of the leggings, then holding her arms out to the side, she asked derisively, “Satisfied?”

“Fuck,” he blew out, “You’re stunning, you’re, you’re perfect!”

She began to walk towards him, but he yelled, “Stop!”

“What?’ she asked in annoyance.

“Let me look at you,” he replied, “God, you’re better than I imagined.”

With hands on hips, she waited, watching as his eyes travelled up and down her body, not comfortable about being forced into this situation, although flashing herself for this pervert didn’t mean that her world was just about to cave in.

“Can you turn around?” he asked.

“What?”

“Turn around; I’ve dreamt about your ass so many times.”

“Jesus.” she muttered, then she swivelled around and impatiently planted her hands on her hips.

“God, perfect, absolutely perfect.” he whispered, Rachael noting the distinct waver that was now prominent in his voice.

“Teriny, could you bend over please?”

Rachael huffed and then walked at him, pushing him onto his back.

She stroked and caressed, he erecting quickly, then the oil opened and applied, Rachael aware that his gaze was on her chest. “What, you’ve never seen a pair of tits before?”

“They’re not big, but they’re dimensionally perfect for your body, and they are a beautiful shape, and your nipples are bigger and pointier than the ones in my dreams, and I just love how your boobs subtly move in time with your actions.”

“Fucking pervert.” she muttered.

Marco closed his eyes and sighed, then whispered, “Teriny…”

“What?”

“How come your nipples are erect?”

She thought about it then replied, “I’m going to kill you, and I always get excited before I kill someone.”

Marco opened his eyes, focussing on her breasts again as he spluttered out, “I’m going to remember this experience forever, so maybe go a little slower.”

She went quicker, the breasts now swaying, Marco trying to hold onto this one, but no, defeated.

Rachael washed her hands, slipped her night-shirt on, then flung a towel at him.

“Goodnight pig!” she stated as she jumped into the single bed.

“Teriny …”

“What?”

“I love you, I’m in love with you.”

Rachael huffed, “If you snore, I’ll wrap that knee brace around your head!”