mafia/assassin

Shiro sat in front of his laptop computer, setting up a high-quality webcam and slipping on a pair of over-the-ear headphones. He had an important meeting with his employer in just a few minutes and wanted to be prepared. When the light of the video conference software started to blink, he sat up straighter to answer.

“Mr. Shirogane?” A smiling face popped up on his screen and he couldn’t help but smile back.

“Honerva! I didn’t expect you this time.”

“You thought it would be a secretary, hmm?” The woman gave him a cheeky grin before tapping a stack of papers into conformity in her hands. “We’ve got an important piece for you to work on this time, and everyone thought it was best if I gave you the details personally.”

“I understand,” Shiro answered. His work producing paintings for high profile clients was particular business, after all.

“If you’re ready for the details, we’ll get started.” Honerva gave him a nod before her image on the screen suddenly disappeared. It was replaced with flashing images of contrasting colors, and a high-pitched ringing pierced through his headphones.

“The person that you were before gambles with the fall of towers.”

The flashing pictures and grating noise stopped as soon as Honerva’s voice said the code phrase, and Shiro blinked.

“The person that I am now lays in the riverbed,” he answered flatly. None of the pleasant demeanor he had just moments ago remained.

“Good.” His handler reappeared on screen. “This job will require you to relocate. A cover story has already been worked up and will be provided once I’ve verbally relayed the specifics.” Another photo popped up on the screen next to her. It was grainy and candid, obviously taken from a hidden camera.

“Your target’s name is Lance McClain.”

*

Shiro smiled nervously at the doorman as he got into the elevator. His new apartment building had a <i>doorman.</i> How do you act around somebody like that? He tried not to think about it too hard as he pulled his wheeled suitcase behind him. It had his art supplies in it, the ones he didn’t trust movers not to mess up or go through. When he brought that up to his new place, his moving in would be complete.

He took the thick plastic card out of his pocket and swiped it in a special card reader next to the rows of buttons. Only then was he able to press the button for his floor. It took a special kind of client to request him move to an entirely new city just for him to paint a skyline. At least Honerva took care of all the important paperwork; he couldn’t imagine having to fill out the forms to get an apartment like this.

After what felt like way too long, the elevator finally slowed to a stop and let out a ding. Shiro stepped out and looked around.

In front of the elevator was a small lobby, complete with a smooth leather couch and glass coffee table. Directly across from the elevator doors, on the other side of the lobby, was a long, wide hallway. At the other end he could see a window looking out over the city. The one hallway was all that was accessible, paneled in dark wood polished to a matte finish.

He let out a whistle and headed down the hall. The entire left side composed his set of apartments. It was more than he would ever need all by himself, but the client had insisted. He walked past several doors, set into the walls so they weren’t visible until he was right in front of them. Those he knew were for cleaners and maintenance workers. <i>His</i> door was set back into the wall and lit with a single tasteful light above it.

He fumbled with his keys once he dug them out of his pocket. It was a special lock with an equally special key. If his thumb wasn’t pressed into the head of the key, it wouldn’t unlock. Again Shiro thought it was a little much, but Honerva said all the apartments had measures like that.

The door had just opened when Shiro heard someone open the other door across the wide hall from him. He turned around, knowing he probably looked a little owlish in his glasses, and met eyes with the only other tenant on the floor.

Blue eyes set in a cool expression were all that he could see at first. Only a split-second later was he able to take in the whole face. He had a sharp, turned up nose and a slim mouth that looked more used to frowning than smiling, all set in a naturally tan face. Shiro couldn’t shake the feeling that he was familiar, somehow.

“Guess I couldn’t bribe the landlord forever, huh?” he said, shutting his door firmly behind him.

“Oh. Um. I promise you’ll hardly even know you have a neighbor,” Shiro said. “Sorry. My agency picked this place out for me…” He cleared his throat and straightened the old hoodie he was wearing, very aware of the way the man looked him up and down. Shiro’s well-worn and comfortable clothes were in a bright contrast to the other man’s dark gray tailored suit.

“A model, huh?” The neighbor reached inside his suit jacket and pulled out an old-fashioned cigarette case.

“Er…” Shiro raised a hand to correct him, but never managed to get the words out.

A tired smirk crossed the man’s face as he took out a cigarette to tuck behind his ear before snapping the case shut. “Don’t worry. You won’t see me too often to get used to my sense of humor. But just in case, the name’s Lance.” He held out his hand and Shiro shook it automatically.

“Takashi.”

The smile that Lance flashed him then seemed more genuine, but disappeared quickly.

“Take care, Takashi.” With that, Lance turned away. Before he had even gotten to the elevator the cigarette case in his hand was replaced with a cellphone, and he was taking a call in a quiet voice.

Shiro gulped and finally stepped into his apartment. Of course they would house him across from a mysterious hot neighbor. He leaned against the door, unable to get Lance’s face out of his head.

Now that meeting his only neighbor was taking care of, it was time to unpack.