Europe

Amsterdam

After two months in England, enjoying the historical sites and museums and beaches, Stu and I flew into Amsterdam. I was a little worried about culture shock when it came to Stu, and thought that Amsterdam, where a good portion of the population still spoke quite good business English, would be a good way to ease him into things. He'd been the perfect companion so far - more than perfect, if that was possible - but I was still a little concerned that the newness of this life would wear off at some point, that he'd second guess his choice and resent me. It would be difficult now, for him to go back.

So I kept him close to me, lavished him with attention, affection, with everything I'd wanted to do in the months that I only allowed myself to speak to him on the phone. He drank it up, slowly coming alive again, sweet and energetic and passionate like he'd been before that bitch of a wife refused to stand by him. He began to show again the life and passion that I'd fallen in love with, but this time with none of the anger and misgivings he'd had the first time I spoke to him in the phone booth. This Stu had come to trust me entirely, and he listened and did as I said without complaint, and it made me love him more than I ever thought possible.

During the first few weeks of our stay in Amsterdam - sometimes touring, sometimes staying in - something began to tug at the back of my mind. The kind of sense or intuition I'd developed so carefully over the years during my work. I was always very aware of everything around me - it was a necessity, a survival skill. So all though the man who was following us was very, very good at what he was doing, I became aware of it quite quickly, and acted on it soon after.

We'd sat down for lunch in a little cafe, and I'd made sure to pick a corner that was fairly well protected from the door and windows. Giving Stu a soft smile, I leaned over the table to kiss him lightly. "I'm going to step outside for a couple of minutes. Order for me?"

"Sure," he replied with a little curious smile, but didn't ask. I left him, reasonably certain he would be safe - if my tail wanted us dead, after all, they'd had plenty of opportunity already to try.

"I'll be back soon," I told him with a warm smile. Then I slipped out the back of the restaurant, manoeuvring casually to avoid being too visible from the outside windows. The man who was tailing us was where I'd last seen him, sipping coffee in a cafe across the street. I approached quietly from behind him, fingers curled around the small pistol in my jacket pocket. Just as I was about to press it to the back of his neck, however, he spoke.

"Hello, John. It's been a while."

I could place the voice immediately, despite the thick handlebar moustache that had disguised his features from a distance. "Pasquale."

"None other." He set down his magazine and stood, tossing a few coins on the table with ragged fingers. "Shall we talk someplace more private?" I regarded him for a moment, then gave a sharp nod, following him as he rounded the side of the building, the little alleyway surprisingly quiet.

"I'm surprised it took you this long to find me," he remarked, glancing back at me with a little smirk. "You losing your touch?"

"It was obvious you weren't here to kill me. I thought I'd watch you for a bit." I leaned back against the wall, arms folded across my chest, watching him. There was no sign of agression, and no apparent weapons, but I knew this man well enough to know better than to take him at face value. "This isn't a normal job for you."

"No," he replied, "but I've been scaling back. Ran into some trouble about a year and a half ago back in Lake Tahoe that took a while to recover from."

"I heard that trouble has a name."

He quirked an eyebrow. "Isreal? I didn't even get near him. Turned out it wasn't even a proper hit. But the bastardo is dead now anyway."

"I'm talking about a different kind of trouble. Trouble like mine."

He regarded me for a moment, a smile playing about the corners of his mouth under that damn moustache. "You really don't miss a detail, do you, el meticuloso?"

"El meticuloso?" I chuckled softly. "That's a new one."

"It's what the FBI thinks of you, from what I hear. They're very curious about you. I'm impressed that you've managed to stay off their radar so effectively."

"I try," I returned with a little shrug, making light of one of the skills that made me so valuable. "So, how is Bill?"

He gave a little smirk and ignored the question. "Your boss asked me to come out and keep an eye on you. One of their watchdogs saw you in the Heathrow airport. I'm supposed to report back in two days. You don't have a lot of time, if you want to get there first."

I didn't ask why he was giving me this information. There may not be honour among thieves, but there was between Pasquale Acosta and I, and sometimes that was important enough to quietly assist each other more than strictly necessary. We had history, and while there was part of him that was possibly quite mentally insane, there were many things about him that I respected. He'd been in the business long enough to understand certain things that not many others could, not even our clients. And I'd helped him out, after the Lake Tahoe incident, quietly altering computer records and hospital logs, and though the notification I'd sent him had been anonymous, I was fairly certain he'd know it was me. "Were you given a kill order?"

"It was dependant on what I observed," he said openly. "I wasn't about to fill it, I'd be a fool to make that kind of enemy of you. But they may send others, and you won't be able to watch over your pajarito all the time. You need to take care of things now."

"Thank you." I regarded him for a moment. "I didn't really think it was possible, you know. With our way of life. Not until your... little escapade. How do you deal with it?"

"I'm not in the same kind of position as you are, you know that, and I'm not afraid to get my hands dirty. And mi chico tierno wasn't a publicist."

I frowned. "He doesn't need to know how to fire a gun. This boy could beguile anyone on the planet."

"Including yourself?"

I chuckled. "Completely, but not by intention. Don't worry. He was one of my projects, one of the few who passed. I've spent a year ensuring he is completely devoted to me. I don't just hit my lovers over the head and run off with them."

He snorted. "You are still afraid to get your hands dirty, aren't you?"

"I prefer a more delicate, planned touch." I glanced down the alley, back to the cafe. "I need to get back. Is this going to bring you trouble?"

Pasquale shrugged. "I've fulfilled my contract. Don't worry about me." He started toward the mouth of the alley, and I followed. "I'll keep my ear to the ground. You still contactable like you used to be?"

"For you. And I'll do the same. Take care of yourself."

"Yeah. Maybe we'll meet up again sometime." He chuckled softly, and started down the street, blending in with the crowd, and I slipped back into the cafe, thinking on what he'd said, and the course of action I would need to take.

~~~


The problem weighed heavy on my mind throughout lunch, enough for Stu to notice. He kept quiet, though, even when I took him back to the hotel early instead of continuing on with the afternoon's plans.

"Something's bothering you," he remarked softly as we entered the hotel elevator.

I paused, choosing my words carefully. "I need to leave town for a couple of days to take care of some business. Probably tonight. I want you to go ahead to Zurich without me."

He'd grown very pale as I spoke. "... without you."

"Yes." I reached out to slip a hand into his hair. "I'm sorry, Stu. I told you that I have certain obligations that I need to fulfil."

"I didn't think you'd need to leave so soon," he murmured softly, and I leaned in to kiss him lightly, feeling him shiver under my touch. The elevator stopped, and we returned to our room, where I set up at the desk with my laptop, quickly booking a plane ticket for myself and a train ticket for him. I had a lot of prep work to do before the red-eye flight I'd booked that evening, but first I needed to take care of Stu.

I programmed a new sim card first, taking it out of the device and turning it around to hand it to him. "Put that in your phone when you get to Zurich, but don't make any calls with it. When I'm done, I'll use it to contact you to find out where you are. When you arrive, you're going to take a cab to the Swiss National Bank head office on Börsenstrasse." I unclasped the medallion of St. Barbara from around my neck and dropped it into his hand as well. "There's a chip in there that will gain you access to a numbered bank account. Your name is already attached to the account for access - the one on your US passport and license. Your access code is the full eight digit date of the day we met. Year month day. Take out a couple grand and find a quiet hotel. Use your Canadian passport to check in."

He nodded silently, fastening the chain around his neck, then staring down at the sim card. I went back to work, but he didn't say anything or move from the bed behind me, something that I was acutely aware of as I worked. Finally I turned back to him, rolling the desk chair back to stop right in front of him, resting my hands on his knees. He'd been slowly shutting down throughout the afternoon, I realized, returning to the kind of empty, hopeless state I used to see so often when I'd watch him from a distance. "Stu?"

"You really have to go, don't you," he whispered, not raising his head, and I nodded, slipping a hand up to cup his cheek.

"I'm sorry. I wish I could change things, but this is who I am."

He shivered a little under my touch, still not looking at me, voice even softer. "What if you don't come back?"

I closed my eyes for a moment. "You have full access to that account, to enough money to set yourself up anywhere in the world and live comfortably," I told him quietly. "My other accounts are set up to automatically transfer additional funds into that account on a monthly basis if for whatever reason I am no longer around - "

"I don't want money," he said fiercely, raising his head to look at me, brown eyes blazing. "What the fuck does money matter to me without you?"

"Stu, I'm just saying - "

"Don't say it. Don't leave."

I moved forward with a soft sigh, kneeling over him and pulling his shivering form tightly against me, nestling his face against my chest. I let my fingers stroke through his hair, nuzzling it, speaking low and soft. "If I don't go now, it will be very dangerous for us to stay together," I said simply, hearing him draw a shuddering gasp at my words. "I need to do this to ensure your safety."

"But why?"

"I have... alliances and commitments that need to be maintained. If I don't, or if I try to go against them, I lose my value to them and also my asylum." I pulled back just a little to look down at him, brushing away a tear that had escaped matted eyelashes with the pad of my thumb. "If I could change it, I would. Unfortunately, I've been involved in these things all of my life, and that's not something you can leave behind and still live."

"Does this have something to do with me?" he asked softly, and I gave him a sad smile.

"A little. But don't worry... I'll take care of things."

He swallowed hard, blinking at tears. "But if you get hurt, or...."

"Stu." I took his face in my hands and silenced him with a soft kiss, lowering my voice. "No matter what happens, I will come back to you."

"You swear it?"

"I promise. On everything I hold dear." I stroked his cheekbone with my thumb. "You know I wouldn't lie to you."

He hesitated, then gave a little nod. "All right. I believe you."

"Good," I said softly, and leaned in to seal my lips to his, warm and reassuring, kissing him until I felt him relax against me, urging him down to the bed under me. I then proceeded to do everything I could to make him forget about any chance of danger, covering his skin with kisses as I undressed him, sucking and nipping at that spot on his collarbone that always made him gasp and buck against me. As I aroused him, as I undressed him and made love to him, I told him everything that I'd do to him upon our reunion, things that involved tying him up with our nice little toy deep inside him while I teased and tortured him with chocolate body paint and my tongue before pounding him into the mattress. It drove him wild like it always did, making him gasp and beg for more as I fucked him, slow and hard and intense, finally drawing us both to the bliss of climax.

I curled around him for a short while afterward, taking in the scent of his skin, the way he felt, warm in my arms. It was more than worth all the trouble he could cause me, to have him with me. When he fell asleep, I extracted myself carefully, tucking the blankets around him, then showered and dressed, packing my things. I finished a large part of my research and preparations for what I would need to do upon arrival at my destination, then called down to the front desk and ordered a cab.

I set the hotel alarm to ensure he'd be awake with more than enough time to pack and catch his train, then leaned in to press a kiss to his mouth before I left. He kissed me back, sweet and sleepy, reaching out to tug me to him, and I let myself indulge for just a moment, laying against his nude form as his kisses grew warmer, wishing very much that I had time to make love to him again.

"I have to go," I murmured softly, regretfully. "I'll come back as soon as I can. I love you."

"Love you," he sighed muzzily, already drifting off back to sleep as I got out of bed and tucked him back in.

~~~

The main part of my luggage I shipped ahead to Zurich - something that was more than common in Europe, bringing only my laptop bag, a very carefully packed small suitcase with me. My pistol, when disassembled, packed neatly into what appeared to be a regular can of shaving cream, right down to dispensing the product, and traveled safely with me everywhere. A few other essential items packed into a bottle of hairspray. The suitcase itself was impeccably designed and had cost me almost as much as a hit, but worth it. It had a cleverly disguised false bottom employing a very unique and little known technology to bend Xrays to completely disguise its contents: my sniper rifle. I wouldn't need it for this meeting, of course. But it never left my person.

When I landed in Berlin, it only took me four hours and three stops to set up what I need. It was just past eight when I entered the building where I knew I'd find my employer, easily bypassing the security systems. I'd watched his wife leave the house five minutes previous, but I knew his habits well, and wasn't at all surprised to find him in the shower in his master bathroom. I watched through the cracked open door as he shut off the water and toweled himself off.

"Guten morgen, Varick." I said, announcing my presence in a low purr. He turned, but to his credit, didn't look all that startled to see me.

"John! Eine solche uberraschung! Ich grüße sie."

I understood easily the language I'd spoken since birth, and continued in it, as I always did with my employers. "Cut the bullshit. I know you sent Acosta to watch me. And I know you hired him because you were too chicken shit to lose any of your own men."

"Is he dead?" Varick asked, and I snorted.

"Hardly. Don't worry, you'll still have to pay him. And don't even think about asking him to kill me."

"We won't kill you," the man replied, padding past me into the bedroom and dropping the towel, unconcerned about his nudity as he started to dress. "You're still too valuable to us. We are simply a little concerned about your current... distraction."

I narrowed my eyes. "Look. I've kept my end of the bargain, and I will continue to. Two contracts a year. It's none of your concern what I do in the meantime."

"It is if the safety of my organization is at stake. We know he's one of your... projects, John. He knows what you are and what you do."

"And nothing of you," I replied sharply. "He is completely under my control. Besides, he's just a beard."

He buttoned his shirt cuffs before pulling on a jacket. "If he's just a beard, then I suggest you get rid of him and pick a beard who doesn't know that you spend your life killing people for fun and profit. Or perhaps we should do it for you."

My blood ran cold, but I hid it, checking my watch and in doing so casually revealing the detonation device I'd been concealing in my hand, my thumb keeping the trigger held down. "You could do that," I said calmly, "if you wanted to watch every single member of you organization and everyone you know die one by one, starting with you wife, daughter, and that pretty little blond twink you keep on the side." I stared him down calmly. "Don't fuck with me, Varick. You know exactly what I'm capable of. Don't follow me, don't watch me. If you even attempt to take the boy from me, I will kill them all. And then I will kill you in the most painful way possible."

He rolled his eyes, but I could see his pulse beating fast at his throat. "What, you going to take me hostage via cell phone?"

The biggest problem with being a hitman, I'd discovered, wasn't making your living committing very carefully planned first degree murder for money. It was resisting the urge to then shoot people for sheer stupidity. "Don't be absurd. I'm going to string you up by your ankles and slowly drip hydrochloric acid all over your body, beginning with your fucking genitals. That would be the beginning, at least."

He stared at me evenly for a long moment. "I'd forgotten you'd spent time with Acosta."

"You insisted I learn from the best." I glanced down at the trigger mechanism, then back up at him. "I don't particularly want to blow up this building, Varick. But I need your assurances that I will be left alone from now on apart from our contracts. I have no quarrel with you and no desire to give you offence. But I will be left alone. I hope we can trust each other not to kill the people important to us, yes?"

"If there is no interference with your work or threat to the organization, then we have no problem with what you do with your time." He said simply, and I resisted the urge to breathe a sigh of relief at the words. "But I don't have to warn you of what will happen if you cease to be of value to us."

"I am well aware," I replied.

He sniffed. "I have to admit I am more than a little relieved that you've found something to occupy your time beyond those ridiculously risky and high profile person projects you've always done without our approval."

I chuckled softly. "I'm glad you can see the advantage of letting me keep the boy." I turned toward his bathroom door. "I'll deactivate the explosives when I am safely away." And with that, I left.

~~~


I cleaned up all traces of myself from Berlin and disappeared back to the airport, booking a flight into Zurich. It wasn't until I'd passed through security that I was able to sit and check through the dozens of messaging accounts that sent me chatter alerts from various places in the world on things that concerned me - in this case, Stu. I found the message to cease the surveillance immediately, and gave a soft sigh of relief. It was always unpredictable, dealing with these men.

I was nearing the end of my list of alerts when I found the message from Pasquale - simple, unspecific, but I knew what it meant.

'More hunters in Zurich. Have the pajarito in my sights. Hope your meeting a success so you can join me soon.
- Havoc'

I felt a cold shudder in the pit of my stomach, cursing myself that I hadn't considered the possibility that more than Pasquale had been contracted to watch us, and swore that if anything happened to Stu before I got there, the world wouldn't know what hit it.

~~~fin~~~