The Hitman

The Lead

Brooke Aldridge's POV

I sat up and gasped, looking around the dimly lit room. My heart pounded as I tried to make sense of my surroundings.

It was dark. I held up a hand, and could only make it out by the soft light of the moon. I was alone. For now.

Or so I thought.

A figure near the window stood up and moved toward my bed. They were silent, lithe, swift. If the dim moonlight hadn't illuminated their silhouette, I wouldn't have known they were even there.

But that wasn't what mattered right now. The figure kept drawing closer to me. I scrambled to the other side of the bed, wincing in pain. Gasping, I felt around frantically for a weapon.

"Who-who are you?" I asked.

A bedside lamp flicked on and I could finally see the person.

Sievers. I frowned and cocked my head.

He gripped my shoulders and rubbed them. "Shh....you okay, sweetheart?"

I nodded slowly.  "Yeah. Just a bad dream." He looked into my eyes, concerned. "What about Vincent?" I asked.

Sievers' eye twitched. "I couldn't catch him." Likely story. He was one of the world's best hitmen, and I knew there had to be more to the story. Nevertheless, I shrugged and accepted his explanation.

I suddenly became acutely aware of his hands still on my shoulders. They were strong, calloused. But gentle. And then there were his arms, muscular and huge. Even the stubble on his face and the shadows the lamp cast made him all the more mysterious, even more of a puzzle I'd have to solve.

He leaned toward me, and I moved forward to meet him. But moments before our lips could touch, we were interrupted.

Agent Conway burst in and flipped on the main light. I jerked backwards in shock while Sievers pulled away from me.

Sievers faced the man expectantly, seemingly annoyed. "Yes?"

Conway pulled two slips of paper from his pocket. "Hawaii."

"Sorry?" I asked. Sievers pulled the papers from his grasp and studied them. After a few seconds, he held it up to the light and squinted.

Conway continued. "Vincent fled as soon as he realized he was being followed. I found these plane tickets to Hawaii in a desk drawer in his room."

"When are they dated?" I asked.

"Tomorrow," Conway responded.

Sievers shook his head and laughed. "Isn't it obvious? It's a trap. An intelligent, elusive gang leader wouldn't just leave two plane tickets sitting around."

Conway frowned, but I was the one to answer. "Maybe it is a trap. But it's our only lead, Sievers."

The hitman opened his mouth to argue, but I held up a finger. "Injured or not, I am still the Director of the FBI. Don't forget your position, Sievers. You're still a prisoner and will be treated as such."

Sievers opened and closed his mouth like a fish gasping for air, but then regained his classic, cool façade. He nodded. "Okay. I'll remember that next time I'm left with an open window and only an unconscious person to watch me."

Conway looked at the window, which was cracked open and letting in a slight breeze.