The Assassin's Prophecy

A Password Blast

Copyright © 2021 Spread_Positivity_ All rights reserved. If you see my book on any other platforms other than Wattpad, it is not by me.

As the pilot landed in the private airport owned by Golden Eagle Enterprises, I stepped down the airstairs and handed my luggage to the Golden Eagle driver. At the side of the runway, my black Bugatti Veyron was waiting for me. The perks of being an illegally rich assassin. Illegal money is always better than normal, earned-through-hardwork money. Less work, more gains; just the way I like it. Once I sat down on the driver's seat, I savored the smell of the newly conditioned leather. I could never get enough of the classic new car smell. I sniffed it some more discreetly, then relaxed into my cushioned, cream-colored seat as the seat-warmer did its job. I wonder how they came up with that feature.

One day a group of car engineers just sat down in a test car and thought to themselves, 'I think my bottom needs to be toasted, John. What do you think?'

'Yes, I think I could use some of that too. What about you Marty?'

'Yes. What about you Elmer?'

'Yes. What about you Eugene?'

'Yes, that would be heavenly.'

Then the driver and the passenger seats all got seat-warmers. Yes, that's most likely what happened.

Soon after hauling all my luggage into the trunk, the driver reluctantly slid into the passenger seat next to me. He's probably wondering why I'm not letting him drive, but he didn't question it. Smart boy, but he'll find out soon enough. Once I plugged my key into the ignition, the engine roared to life.

"Yes, that's my boy! I missed you Ronny!"

I stepped on the pedal and revved up the engine.

Our heads hit the back of our seats as the car abruptly hit a speed of 100 mph (160 kmph). And that's the beauty of living in the middle of the Siberian tundra. No traffic and no traffic laws. The driver next to me gripped the car handle tightly and closed his eyes. He mouthed some words while crossing his fist over chest and head.

Feeling a lag in momentum, I steadied my hands on the wheel. Oh yes, it's time to test this car's limits. "Whooo! Let's speed it up!"

"No!" The driver shouted, his eyes wide open now. I looked at him quizzically. He quickly recovered and obtained a neutral expression. "I mean," he cleared his throat. "Why not slow down a little, ma'am? Or just allow me to drive? Although there are not any other cars on the road, the car can still slide on the ice."

"Don't worry, kid. I know how to take care of that." I said as I looked back at the road. No one knows how to drive quite like me, so handing the wheel to someone else won't be happening anytime soon. I grinned mischievously. This was a long awaited ride.

I put the pedal to the metal, and my car speed soared to a full 200 mph (289 kmph).

"Oh god noooooo!" The wimpy driver kid shrieked and looked as if his soul hit the back of the car.

I groaned to myself due to the noise pollution. Thankfully, I can get rid of this fella sooner rather than later, courtesy of my Ronny's speed.

As we neared Madam Ichka's estate, I waited until the right moment.

"Please stop! I beg you! I can't do this! We are going to crash!"

"Oh shush, you'll be just fine! Trust me!"

"I don't trust you, you're an assassin!"

"Well, it's your fault to decide to work here. So suck it up kid."