The Mark

“This is the mark, and here are your orders. It must be done tonight. Any way you choose. For my sake though, make it painful. Make it last. Payment will be made upon notification of the deceased, and collection will be at the usual drop off point 48 hours later. You know the drill.” Her boss said dryly. He wasn't too fond of losing his best assassin, but there would be others. Right? Other’s as good as her? The likelihood of that was slim to none. She was the best assassin he had in his company. The only mercenary who held all emotion and conflict at bay. She followed orders to the letter of the word. She was as deadly stunning as she was vehemently vicious. Dean handed her the dossier of the man called the Juggernaut. He wanted this man dead personally so when the contract came in to his company, he was elated. This man had made a personal embarrassment of him in a past time before he was the boss he was now; when he himself had been an assassin named the Adjudicator.

             
Contracts came in by referrals of the highest rank in society, from politicians to government officials. Dean’s business was beyond discreet. Any request that came in for a job would result in effectively efficient and untraceable kills. “You sure there isn’t anything I can do to persuade you to stay Londyn?” He held the white folder in his hand. The white folder meant it was the last job for an assassin.

             
She smiled and shook her head. “Not at all. I’m tired of doing this Dean. Enough snuffing out lives. The money just isn’t worth it anymore.” This was her last job, and after its completion she would be well on her way to Anguilla with riches to last her the rest of her life. Alive. Alone but alive. She flipped through the file briefly and stopped at the picture of the man. “The Juggernaut.” Londyn paused staring at Dean in shock. “You want me to kill the Juggernaut?”

             
“I don’t. The company does. Our clients do.” Dean sighed sitting on his desk.

             
Londyn slammed the file on the desk. “Didn’t you tell me he-”
              Dean interrupted her would be reliving of the Juggernauts reputation. “Yes, and I don’t want to relive the situation. If you don’t want the-” Dean got up from the couch and walked over to his chair. He sat behind his desk and crossed his arms.

             
Londyn interrupted him. “Quiet.”

             
“So, were good?” Dean asked arrogantly.

             
Abruptly she answered. “Yes Dean. We’re good and we are done.” She walked out the door of the office building concealed as,
"Precision Shooting Inc."
 The shop was full of all brands of recording equipment, production equipment, and top of the line cameras. This place was designed to look like a photography studio. Precision shooting was correct in many ways. There was never a target missed. In her years of execution, she was as precise as mercenaries came. Her look was exotic and her beauty was the perfect cover. She was walking into a studio to do a photo shoot right? What else could she be good for? 

             
Londyn figured after years of bad choices, and an even worse choice for a career, that regardless of the mark, the job would be done. Years ago her dream had been to become an actress. A chance encounter at a gun range changed her entire course of life. The first time she fired a gun she hit the center of the target. She never flinched. When more targets were brought before her she again hit center target with no time delay or emotion to hold her back. Situational awareness was a speciality of Londyn’s. So when she saw the range master in awe of her, then disappear she assumed he’d either documented her session or told someone. A day later she met Dean and the rest can be found in her work history.

             
She held the white folder in her hand. Walking down the sidewalk she was curious why her last mark would be the Juggernaut. Why would anyone want to take out the number one assassin in the world? Flipping open the dossier was his picture. He was dreadfully gorgeous. What was most notable about the Juggernaut was his scar. A long jagged cut started from his temple angling downward into his chin. In the picture taken from afar, he stood 6'5 with a chiseled jaw line that accentuated his long neck. His broad shoulders seemed to transition into his wide torso. Sinewy muscles rippled down his arms. She imagined him bare skinned wondering how much of his body was toned to perfection. His vintage gun metal sleeveless shirt and black jeans fit his body like a pair of silk gloves. The majority of his height could be found in his long torso leading down to his long legs. The Juggernaut was in a walking stride coming towards the camera. This was an obvious surveillance shot. She studied his legs and felt heat flush over her body. Strong and sturdy. She continued walking down the sidewalk with her equipment in her black suitcase. She stopped for a minute because she heard something. Putting the folder in the suitcase, she continued to walk.

                                                                                    ****

Aleksandr watched the way she walked, loving every sway in her hips to the bounce in her long raven colored hair. He saw her body shift when she opened the folder. Her face seemed flushed a rosy red, and he swore he saw her bite down on her lower lip. Those magnificent features she possessed would never grace another woman again. He was rather excited about tonight. She had almost caught him when he slipped in the alleyway. He wanted so badly to take her now, but it would have to wait until later. He imagined the way their conflict would play out. He planned to pin her into submission and ravage her body relentlessly. Aleksandr never kept a romantic involvement with a woman. His sexual acts were either one night stands, or dirty alley way hook ups with drunken women who didn’t know better than to come on to him. He imagined taking his time with the Black Widow, with Londyn. He’d been watching her for some time, truth be told for months. She’d gotten on his radar when they bumped into each other in a pub in Manchester, England. She hadn’t even seen his face just said
‘excuse me’
and slithered out of the pub. He learned later a highly favored but corrupt political official had been killed in some low motel down the street known for their hourly rates.

             
They called him the Juggernaut for one reason only. He was indestructible. He was a brute. When he was handed a contract, the kill was sure to be a disastrous one. This was his last job and before he would vanish into nothing more than a fabled horror story, he had to kill the second most dangerous assassin, the Black Widow. Interestingly enough the dossier on the Black Widow was a lengthy one. All relevant information such as her date of birth, SSN, familiar background, education, and all known aliases. However when it came to her contract kills, she was never seen, heard, or noticed. His opposite. Each shot a kill shot. He admired her skill and her features. He noticed she had no known relatives and what is more important, no known significant others. 

                                                                                    ****

Her favored weapons, the axe and Bowie knife accompanied her as she drove to the location given. She took precautions by taking the long way there. She drove only part of the way through the back streets, and parked in an abandoned car garage. She walked the rest of the way through the filthy alleys of New York. 304th Ave. Penthouse suite. 76th floor. Her white Audi R8 Coupe attracted attention properly. A striking woman scantily dressed and occupying a rather expensive vehicle, coming to an elegant residence. Her image screamed escort. It was the perfect cover.

              Truthfully Londyn was puzzled by the Juggernaut’s dossier. No known date of birth. No known name or SSN. Single. No known children. No known significant others. Brute and cold. All personal information on the Juggernaut was nonexistent. The dossier was light but mostly contained Intel and surveillance on his whereabouts, habits, frequently visited locations, and likes and dislikes. It was a veritable personality profile. She thought it odd but his dossier held surveillance and intelligence of the Juggernaut staying at a specific location after each contract fulfillment. The residence she was going to. Unfortunately, one added quirk is that the Juggernaut never passed by windows, doors, vents or the like. He also had devices that guised his heat signature. That meant her long range sniper shot was out of the question. This was going to be face to face combat. She had already made her way into the high rise building. She scoped out the high rise before entrance and hadn’t seen any sign of him entering the residence yet. She had stolen a key from the housekeeper and slipped in. Once inside she changed into her form fitting black yoga pants that accentuated her voluminous behind, and a black sleeveless top with thin straps. There was no need for stealth and propriety with the Juggernaut.

             
Before Aleksandr slid his key into the door, he took a deep breath, cocked his head to the right and then to the left. As he opened the door, he entered and ducked. She had thrown an axe at his head. An axe! She looked terribly frustrated in his preparedness. He bit back a moan as she watched her voluptuous yet toned body charge for him. He knew she never missed.

             
Londyn lunged at him and he caught her in mid air. He pushed her back against the wall hard. There was a brief pause between both of them. A passionate fire was burning under her skin and she didn’t know why. Goosebumps rose on her neck. Her legs had seemingly found their way straddled around his hips while his arms had pulled both of her arms above her against the wall. In this position, they were face to face. She head butted him twice and he fell back laughing.

             
“Oi! Love...that was a good shot. Bollocks!” he spoke. He blinked his eyes a few times and held the palm of his hand against his head. “You’re a feisty one.” He rolled over as she lunged at him again. She was quick. Ruthless. Just like they said she’d be. She was also being misled. Nonetheless he felt the fight should continue. He wanted to see what she had. She was quicker than any assassin he had ever met. She was already on top of him. Punch after punch. Each hit was harder and faster than the last. With a fervent steady determined force she lay into him. He was simply smiling at her effort.

             
She screamed when she noticed all he was doing, was laughing. “Fight back!”

She took a look at her knuckles and the pain started to come around. Suddenly he was in her face. She froze. Her mind told her to attack, but her body refused to comply. Submission was all she desperately wanted. He cupped her face in his hands. His dark brown eyes had speckles of amber in his iris. “W-What-”

              “Don’t talk. You’ve done what you can.” He studied her face. Still defiant. She was reaching behind her back for something. He decided to let her try. Less than a second later the point of her blade was in between his eyes. He didn’t stop her. He didn’t feel the need to. Her green eyes were magnificent. He watched her pupils dilate back and forth. No wonder she was so special. So skilled. So quick. “You done?”

             
“Let me go.” She whispered so close into his mouth. His lips were within inches of her. When his hands were free from her body she pushed him away from her. She still had the knife pointed in his direction. Londyn was staring blankly at him. Her mind screaming to attack but she couldn’t force her body to move. The last thing she wanted to do was hurt him. He could have killed her twice now, why didn’t he?

             
He sat up against the wall of the room and stared at her. He lifted one leg up and rested his arm on it. “Oh man. You gave me a what for eh? Deadly little mare.” He laughed and asked her, “Hand me a towel from the bathroom? Please?” he smiled at her hesitation. She ran into the bathroom, no doubt scheming to find another way to attack him.             

             
Londyn wet a small white towel with warm water and the moment she turned around he was within inches from her face. She dropped the rag and he caught it. She thought about raising her fists to fight him, but truthfully she was tired. Not just from a fight she knew she couldn’t win, but of fighting between her body and her mind. “It’s warm, not cold water.”

             
“Hands a little sore love. Job before needed a little handy work. You can do it for me right?” He said smiling. He looked deep into her eyes and hooked her gaze with his. When she started to wipe the blood off his face, he contemplated not killing her after all. She was trembling slightly, but with each stroke she gently cleaned his face. The face she seconds ago battered with intent of death. Her eyes never left his gaze. She seemed strained and nervous. He raised his hand to touch hers against his face. In the split second his hand touched hers, her eyes left his spellbound gaze. “I could’ve have killed you twice now.” He smacked her hand away and before the towel hit the ground, he had her sitting on top of the bathroom sink with his body positioned perfectly in between her thighs. His lips were on her in record time. Her lips were soft and pillowy. Her body was firm yet soft to the touch. With their tongues colliding their kiss deepened lingering for a moment. Aleksandr felt her hands all over his broad chest. He pulled her into him wrapping her legs around his waist, and carried her through the bathroom door into his bedroom. Instead of tossing her on the bed, ripping her clothes off, and taking her with such brute need, Aleksandr lowered Londyn onto the queen size bed and pinned her beneath him. She squirmed to get comfortable and he pressed his jean covered hard cock into her mound. His hands ventured through her hair pulling her neck to one side and his long wide tongue trailed over her neck up under her chin where he placed sucking kisses along her jawline.