Once Upon A Contract

MELANIE.

SOMEONE was in my house. It didn’t take a genius to know that, seeing as the intruder had oh-so-kindly obeyed the instructions on my cream and black doormat and removed their boots.

Am I seriously about to be accosted by a well-mannered burglar? I paused, lowering my hand which was still in my bag where I’d been reaching for my keys, my instincts on high alert.

I bent down, took off my shoes, palmed the Swiss knife I always kept at my ankle and entered my house.

It was dark in the hallway where I quietly discarded my bag and umbrella but light shone from the living room doorway.

“What kind of burglar leaves the lights on?” I thought to myself.

Perhaps when I’m done with him, I could give him a few tips and tricks…From one thief to another.

I walked softly to the living room and peered around the corner, spotting two men walking around and going through my stuff.

One was taller and more built than the other and from his gait, I could tell he was a bodyguard or once was.

Not that the gun strapped to his hip wasn’t a big clue on its own.

When he spoke, his voice was deep and clear… “I think we should have contacted her first. What if this turns out to be some other poor woman’s house?” The first guy said.

The other one holding a briefcase replied saying he was sure they were in the right place and blah blah.

“Enough talk”, I thought to myself I moved swiftly toward the bodyguard type dude, jabbing a hand into a point in the side of his neck that was sure to render him unconscious. I didn’t wait to see his body crumple before I spun the other guy, kicked the back of his knees out and held my knife to his throat.

“Talk”, I said calmly.

He had the balls to laugh as he laid his briefcase gently on my carpeted floor “Well, hello there”…He started in a pleasant tone like he didn’t have a very sharp object pressed to his jugular.

“It’s a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance, even in such…deplorable circumstances”, he said.

I was shocked at how much effrontery he had to be talking as calmly as he is right now considering he broke into my house.

I pushed my knife in a little deeper, pricking his skin.

A thin trickle of blood started to flow, making its way to his pristine cream shirt.

“How did you find me?” I asked.

“I’d be careful with that thing if I were you. There’s a sniper across the street with instructions to shoot if you attempt to kill me. It would be a shame to do that before we got down to business, but you know how it is. And to answer your earlier question, you really are a slippery little thing, but there’s nowhere you could go in this world that I wouldn’t find you.” His smile never wavered.

I stiffened, more at the familiar words than at the threat. I backed away from him slowly, anger making its way to my chest.

Of fucking course!!!

“What does he want now?” I bit out angrily. I was supposed to never hear from him again.

Cream Shirt got up and dusted his outfit lightly, barely sparing a glance at the unconscious man lying a few feet away.

“I guess you’ve realized who sent me, Good. That’ll speed things up. He wants you to do another job for him.”

“No.”

A delighted smile lit up his face. “He did say you’d be difficult. I hate it when he’s right. He said to remind you that you are in no position to refuse, seeing as you’re still indebted to him”.

“Bullshit.”

Cream Shirt reached for the previously discarded briefcase and retrieved a document, holding it out to me. I took it and examined it. It looked old, the corners yellowed and curling, suggesting authenticity but I wouldn’t put it past him to fake it.

I studied its contents, muttering curses under my breath.

“As you can see with your own eyes, you are, in fact, still under his control”.

I set the document aside and took a deep breath, wrestling the rage gathering within me and locking it in a mental box.

Silence reigned as we stared each other down.

I repeated my question.

“He wants you to do one job. It’ll be the last one.” I scoffed.

“No, really. It’s bigger than anything he’s asked you to do before”.

“Bigger than Germany?” I asked, certain he knew what I was referring to.

“Bigger than Germany”, He confirmed.

I sighed, holding my hand out for the dossier he retrieved and handed to me. It was full and quite heavy.

“Summary”, I ordered.

Cream Shirt bristled at the order and I felt a hint of pleasure for taking that smile off his face. It was beginning to get on my nerves.

“Enrico Giraldo will be moving a set of very rare jewels from his current location in Switzerland. He’ll be taking the train to Milan Malpensa in an attempt to shake off any threats and flying from there to Puerto Rico. Enclosed is all the information you need, a credit card and tickets. I don’t mean to teach you your job, but be very careful. We only get one shot at this, and you know how he is about incompetence.”

It was my turn to bristle, “I’m perfect at what I do.”

“Well aware, or he wouldn’t have sent me here. He’ll be expecting your call. Don’t keep him waiting”, he said.

He closed his briefcase and glanced at the bodyguard guy who was just starting to come around.

“Perfect timing, we’re leaving”. He walked towards the door with the other one trailing behind him, and paused “Ah..One more thing. Should you refuse to take it, he’ll be in touch. Can’t have you floating around with classified information now, can we?” he searched my face to be sure I understood, then nodded.

“Enjoy the rest of your evening, miss.” He walked out, shutting the door.

Fucking well-mannered bastard.

I fought the urge to scream or throw something and closed my eyes. Running confidence games requires charisma, boldness and control. I did not get to where I am by losing my shit when backed into a tight corner.

MELANIE.

THE DOSSIER STILL LAY ON THE TABLE.

I hadn’t touched it since I’d dropped it there, choosing instead to pace until I was sure my feet had worn a path into the floor.

There wasn’t much to think about; the dude in the cream shirt wasn’t bluffing when he mentioned that the person who sent him would come after me if I refused. That was the way he operated.

“He…Mr Cadell.”

The man who had single-handedly ruined my family. Or at least what was left of it.

My mother left before I was old enough to miss her.

My dad had tried his best to raise me on his own before losing his job as the Senior Account Manager for Cadell&Sons. I never noticed a change in our lifestyle except for his increased intake of alcohol and abrasiveness because he made sure to keep the things he thought I couldn’t handle.

It was after he ingested one too many bottles of alcohol and I stood at his graveside after the funeral that Mr. Cadell approached me, informing me of the desperation with which my father had begged for loans to keep me in school and keep a roof over our heads and preserve the lifestyle I was used to.

I was taking acting classes at the community college at the time and working at a convenience store to pay the bills.

I had no idea how I was supposed to come up with the amount of money he said my father owed.

He offered to sponsor the rest of my schooling so I could come work for him.

I’d asked him why he would do that and he said it was an investment. At the time I’d thought he was being generous due to his relationship with my father because he obviously had no use for a fledgling actress.

I was so wrong and realizing it changed nothing, my fate was sealed either way.

He insisted on me learning multiple languages, taught me art and culture and politics, training me to fit into any crowd…Honing what was to be a perfect weapon.

The first time I stole for him, he’d asked me to cross the street and tell a man sitting in a parked car in Dutch that I was the one he was waiting for and I’d been sent by one Lady Dumont. The man had handed me a package which I delivered to Mr. Cordell.

Later that day, I was shocked to see a blurry CCTV image of me on the news with instructions to inform the police if I was ever spotted. Angry, I’d confronted him.

“Why did you make me do that?”

“Who better to do it than a naïve little girl?” he’d said with no hint of remorse on his face.

“Is that what you do? Steal from other people? You’re disgraceful. What if he hadn’t believed me?” my voice was thick with bitterness and unshed tears.

He’d shown me his true colors then, as he lost his temper. He’d held me by the throat, making sure I stared into his empty ice blue eyes.

“Why do you think I’d pour money into a stupid rugrat like you if I don’t get anything out of it? You and your miserable excuse for a father are indebted to me. I own you now. So you’ll be a good girl and steal for me until your debts are paid in full. Understood?” he asked.

I nodded. He released me and walked behind his desk calmly while I shook like a leaf.

“You start weapons training tomorrow morning, 6 AM sharp. Don’t be late.”

Monaco…AbuDhabi…Amsterdam…Turkey…Greece…India…Peru…Iran…Germany…Diamonds…Rubies…Paintings…Scams…Rigged bets and so many more that I can’t count.

Each heist was bigger and riskier than the last.

I lost a piece of my soul each time.

Variations of my description had circulated globally, and law enforcement was convinced they were looking for a widespread cell of con artists. After my last job, when I was convinced I was done, I went underground, changed my name yet again and took a job as a clerk at the stock exchange.

I started a new life and now I was being dragged back.

Anger pulsed in time with my heartbeat.

“I will kill him. I swear, I will kill him”, I continuously chanted in my head.

I took a series of deep breaths, gaining control over my emotions and making way for cold, clear logic.

He’d be coming for me soon when he didn’t hear from me.

I had to be prepared to go under again at a moment’s notice. The time for revenge would come. Soon, but not now.

I'm nothing if not patient. I picked up the single document which contained a summarized calculation of all the money my dad had borrowed and my eyes widened in disbelief.

Christ on a totem pole!

There was no way all of that still remained. I’d stolen diamonds for fuck sake. Cadell was a bastard.

A greedy bastard who had just earned himself a slow, excruciatingly painful death.

I look around my small apartment. I didn’t store much here; no self-respecting thief puts all their eggs in one basket. I could be ready to go in fifteen minutes or less.

For now, I headed to the kitchen to fix myself dinner. I grabbed the raven packets and the other ingredients I needed out of the small fridge and placed them on the counter just as an unbidden memory of my dad and I cooking together crossed my mind.

“Remember, buttercup, you have to be really careful.”

“Like this?” I ask, attempting to flip the pancake over in the pan. It lands on the floor instead, making my dad chuckle.

“Very close princess. But let’s try that again.”

The memory faded and I found myself staring at the counter with a knife clutched tightly in my right hand. I smiled through the pain threatening to crush my chest, finished making my dinner and carried it over to the table.

I set my plate down next to the dossier and picked it up, glancing through it quickly and mentally marking areas that required deeper reading. I got my phone out and dialed the number provided on the first page of the file. It rang thrice before a familiar voice answered.

“Yes?”

“I’ll do it.”

“Excellent choice, rugrat.”