The Hitman

The Docks

Nick Sievers' POV

After an eternity, we made it to the docks. I checked my watch. 10:00. Only two hours. I shook my head and exhaled.

The wooden boards squeaked under my feet, and rushing water could be heard below. I shivered.

An expanse of inky water reflected the starless night sky. I frowned. The channel was deep and the current strong. We couldn't just swim across to the naval base.

I suppose we could hijack a boat. I mean, I'd done worse. It's not like the rich snobs who owned the vessels (cough cough Father) couldn't just buy a new one.

"Well?" Jay asked. "How do we get across?"

My father piped in. "One of my boats is waiting to our left." Of course. Of course he was so filthy rich he had everything he could possibly ask for.

I followed my father's extended hand as he stepped past me as if I didn't exist. As if I was a ghost. I clenched my jaw and curled my fingers into a fist.

Brook gripped my hand and shook her head. As my father's figure walked ahead, she sighed. "Some people can't see anything but the bad in others. Don't let a prick like him get to your head."

My father stopped and turned back around, only half of his sunken-in face lit by the street lamp. But even that small sliver displayed his annoyance. "Well? Are you coming?"

He wasn't looking at or asking me, obviously, but I shrugged anyway. I trudged forward behind his proud figure. He acted like he was leading a lamb to the slaughter.

No. I couldn't allow myself to think like that. I steeled myself. No matter what he said, I was still the world's greatest hitman. And words couldn't change that. My father wouldn't try anything funny if he valued his life.

"Nick," Jay whispered.

I turned to look at him, still slightly annoyed he had decided to bring my father along. "What?"

He wouldn't look me in the eyes. "Do you know why your father is helping us?"

I shrugged. "Let me think about." I paused and pretended to consider his question. "Oh, yeah, that's right! Because someone told him about my kids." I was practically yelling at this point.

Jay held up his hands. "Look, I'm sorry. I just think you should know, well, that isn't the only reason. His help came with a condition."

A condition? I stopped walking. "What do you
mean?"

Jay glanced around nervously, then leaned toward me. He whispered in my ear, and I held a hand to my mouth.

"I'm-I'm sorry. You can still back out if you really want," he offered.

Could I really? I shook my head. "I can't. I can't let Brook, the girls, any of them down."

I glanced forward to Brook, who was only a couple paces behind my father.

No. I wouldn't tell her. Not yet.

Father stopped in front of a sleek, silver boat. It bore his name, of course. I rolled my eyes but approached the vessel.

Something moved in the near darkness on the boat. It was a mere flicker of a shadow, but I knew what I had seen. "Wait," I commanded.

Slowly, I stepped closer to the boat. Someone was there, lurking in the pitch black. I balled my fists and looked around for something to use as a weapon.

I heard the shink of metal right before our world plunged into chaos.