Cobra Assassin

She had loved him. Genuinely, and so vigorously. The deepest and most authentic connection she had ever experienced. In her line of work, reading people was paramount and she was good at it. Really good at it, or at least she thought. That was right until he showed up on her “To Kill,” list.

But why? She took out crime lords, heavily polluted political figures, and dangerous serial killers. What was it that he had done that had etched his name across her assassination list.

She rummaged through his dark files and her stomach slammed hard into her throat as she read through his list of offenses. The man she thought she knew was elbow deep in a closet full of bloody, mangled skeletons.

“Torture, murder, trafficking, black market…” Descriptive words only found in files of the most horrendous offenders. Yet, there they were. Lodged in the sentences of a case file so dark and so deep she couldn’t bear to process every single gory detail.

The concealed pistol strapped to her thigh was uncomfortable. The sheath of her ankle blade felt as if it was cutting off circulation. She rolled her foot under the dinner table to alleviate the pressure.

“Is everything alright,” he asked. She looked up from her plate to catch him staring at her. That look in his eyes that she adored so much. How perfect he looked in the candlelight.

Normally, she didn’t converse very long with her targets. In and out. Quick with very little mess. She had a clean record. She was good at what she did. But this one - ‘This one would be messy,’ she thought to herself as she held his gaze.

How was she going to do it, she wondered to herself. She always had these things mapped out before the day of the job. Today, however, she had no plan. How had she not known? How had she not had him figured out? Dangerous. All of them. They were all so very dangerous, yet none of them scared her. Except him. It scared her how much she loved him and how she thought she knew him so well. Yet, she didn’t know him at all.

Had he known about her? Word got around in the dark corners of the world. They called her Cobra. A cute nickname conjured up by the deadliest of villains. Is that why she couldn’t read him? Was he playing her the whole time? Was he planning to kill her?

She stared at him in silence. His smile accentuated the lustful look in his eyes. Then she saw it. The moment it finally clicked for him. His expression dropped as the look in his eyes drew blank.

“You’re supposed to kill me, aren’t you?” he asked, his voice steady as he watched her hand slide under the table. She placed her hand over her pistol but left it resting on the grip.

“I was,” She said slowly. “But now I’m not so sure I want to.” She couldn’t tell if he was playing her, so she stayed ready.

“Children,” she started. “You murdered innocent children,” She said through gritted teeth.

“I did not. I swear to you and on everything we have, I did not do any of those things they told you I did.”

She pushed out a laugh as a tear fell slowly down her cheek. She realized at that moment that she may not walk out alive. His manipulation tactics were going to cause her to hesitate. “Going to cause,’ she thought. ‘For god’s sake I have already been on this case too long.’ She knew she should have taken him out already. She just couldn’t do it.

She kept her hand on her pistol as she watched his hands. They sat flat on the table in front of him.

“How do I make you believe,” he asked quietly.

“Why is your name on my list?”

“I don’t know. I do know that I pissed some pretty dangerous people off and they’ve been coming for my head. Since they couldn’t take me out, I am assuming they set me up to be taken out by the Cobra.”

“So, you know who I am,” she asked.

“Yes,” he responded. “Well, just figured it out is more like it. I figured I was safe with you, not that I’m here because I need you to protect me.” He interjected quickly. “I swear I didn’t know who you were when we met, but once I figured it out… I didn’t believe anyone would have the balls to wrap you up in all of this. Everyone is afraid of you.”

“I don’t believe you,” she shot back.

“Who do you think your agency’s informant gets information from? I know all these guys. I know all their meeting spots. I hear the talk. I slide that information to your guy, and I get hell for it.”

“How do you know my targets,” she asked. “Why are you involved?”

“I find people, that’s what I do.”

“So why not work with the FBI or some other agency?”

“That doesn’t pay. Look around. Do you think I would have this if I worked for the FBI.”

“So, you take the chance of always having to look over your shoulder.” Her hand still rested on her pistol.

“Don’t you?”

She went silent and then smiled at him. She slowly pulled the gun from its holster. “Who’s the informant you have been working with? Let me confirm with the agency and get this all cleared up."

“I don’t know much about him. Some guy. He gave me a number and I reach out to him through a burner.”

Her agency only trusted one person with this level of information.

“What a shame…” she dropped the hesitative thoughts and rapidly withdrew her weapon, aimed between the eyes… ‘BANG!’

She walked over to his slumped body, bent down and listened to his last breath leave his lungs. Before leaving him there, she whispered, “I find people, that’s what I do.”