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Full Circle
folder
M through R › Professional/Leon
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
3
Views:
4,818
Reviews:
5
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
M through R › Professional/Leon
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
3
Views:
4,818
Reviews:
5
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own The Professional, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Full Circle 3
TITLE: Full Circle 3
AUTHOR: ShyBob
SUMMARY: (The Professional) Seven years after the events in the movie Mathilda is working as a Cleaner. Her sixth job.
WARNING: graphic violence and profanity.
RATING: R for this part.
DISCLAIMER: The Professional and all associated characters are property of Columbia Pictures, Gaumont/Les Films du Dauphin, and Luc Besson. This work is not for profit, and no ownership of aforementioned copyrighted material implied, nor any infringement intended.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Last story in this arc. More feedback = faster sequels.
* * *
I walk down the hall and pause next to--not in front of--the mark's door, listening. The faint sounds coming thh thh the door are of someone having sex. Knocking politely or trying to kick the solid door in will give him time to respond that I can't spare.
So it's out the window at the end of the hall and onto the fire escape. There's a nice stone ledge just below window height. I move around the corner of the building on the ledge, thankful that I'm small enough to stand on it easily. Two windows down. I can hear the sounds through the open window. "Yeah, baby, just like that. Oh, yeah."
I'm ready. Hat, sunglasses, leather gloves and coat (I call it my disguise): check. Big-ass .45 with silencer attached: check. Spare magazines, backup gun, knife, and duct tape: check. No time like the present.
I peek through the window and see the mark, sitting in a chair. There's one of his hookers kneeling on the floor in front of him. No wonder he can't pay his fees, the whore should be out turning tricks for money. I move in, real quiet. They don't even know I'm there until I put my .45 to the mark's head.
"Urk." His eyes are wide opn fen fear, and the whore looks up at the sound. She looks at me, looks at her pimp, looks back at me. Smart. She scoots back, wipes her mouth with her arm, and pulls up her tube top.
"You gonna kill me?" She's only got a little quaver in her voice.
"No. Just him. Unless you want to stick around?"
It took her all of half a second to think it over. "What do you what me to do?"
She wants to help? Fine. "Take this tape; tape his feet together and to the chair, then do his hands behind the chair."
"NO!" The mark can finally form words.
"Shut up." I must've said it all scary, 'cause the guy just pissed himself.
The whore flinches, finishes taping up her pimp, and looks at me. "What now?"
I want her to get the fuck out so I can finish the job. "Get another pimp, get straightened out, I don't give a damn either way, just go."
"Oh. Okay."
The door closes behind the whore. I look at the pimp. "You know why I'm here?"
"Fuck you!"
"Wrong answer."
I put the muzzle to his knee. "I was given explicit instructions to make sure you knew what this was for."
"Yes! Fuck! Yes, I know what it's about. The cut I sent wasn't big enough, I know. But it's the fair percentage, I swear. Look, just tell Tony you let me off with a warning, okay? What's the harm in that?" Sweat is pouring off the bastard, he's so desperate.
"My reputation." He closes his eyes and whimpers as I put the muzzle to his forehead and pulled the trigger.
* * *
A/N: If you can handle the thought of Mathilda in a (NC-17) relationship with another woman, read the story After Cleveland. If not, you'll have to wait a bit for the next story arc.
AUTHOR: ShyBob
SUMMARY: (The Professional) Seven years after the events in the movie Mathilda is working as a Cleaner. Her sixth job.
WARNING: graphic violence and profanity.
RATING: R for this part.
DISCLAIMER: The Professional and all associated characters are property of Columbia Pictures, Gaumont/Les Films du Dauphin, and Luc Besson. This work is not for profit, and no ownership of aforementioned copyrighted material implied, nor any infringement intended.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Last story in this arc. More feedback = faster sequels.
* * *
I walk down the hall and pause next to--not in front of--the mark's door, listening. The faint sounds coming thh thh the door are of someone having sex. Knocking politely or trying to kick the solid door in will give him time to respond that I can't spare.
So it's out the window at the end of the hall and onto the fire escape. There's a nice stone ledge just below window height. I move around the corner of the building on the ledge, thankful that I'm small enough to stand on it easily. Two windows down. I can hear the sounds through the open window. "Yeah, baby, just like that. Oh, yeah."
I'm ready. Hat, sunglasses, leather gloves and coat (I call it my disguise): check. Big-ass .45 with silencer attached: check. Spare magazines, backup gun, knife, and duct tape: check. No time like the present.
I peek through the window and see the mark, sitting in a chair. There's one of his hookers kneeling on the floor in front of him. No wonder he can't pay his fees, the whore should be out turning tricks for money. I move in, real quiet. They don't even know I'm there until I put my .45 to the mark's head.
"Urk." His eyes are wide opn fen fear, and the whore looks up at the sound. She looks at me, looks at her pimp, looks back at me. Smart. She scoots back, wipes her mouth with her arm, and pulls up her tube top.
"You gonna kill me?" She's only got a little quaver in her voice.
"No. Just him. Unless you want to stick around?"
It took her all of half a second to think it over. "What do you what me to do?"
She wants to help? Fine. "Take this tape; tape his feet together and to the chair, then do his hands behind the chair."
"NO!" The mark can finally form words.
"Shut up." I must've said it all scary, 'cause the guy just pissed himself.
The whore flinches, finishes taping up her pimp, and looks at me. "What now?"
I want her to get the fuck out so I can finish the job. "Get another pimp, get straightened out, I don't give a damn either way, just go."
"Oh. Okay."
The door closes behind the whore. I look at the pimp. "You know why I'm here?"
"Fuck you!"
"Wrong answer."
I put the muzzle to his knee. "I was given explicit instructions to make sure you knew what this was for."
"Yes! Fuck! Yes, I know what it's about. The cut I sent wasn't big enough, I know. But it's the fair percentage, I swear. Look, just tell Tony you let me off with a warning, okay? What's the harm in that?" Sweat is pouring off the bastard, he's so desperate.
"My reputation." He closes his eyes and whimpers as I put the muzzle to his forehead and pulled the trigger.
* * *
A/N: If you can handle the thought of Mathilda in a (NC-17) relationship with another woman, read the story After Cleveland. If not, you'll have to wait a bit for the next story arc.