Surrender your weapons
From Create Your Own Story
You slowly slide your hands behind your coat and reach for your weapons, silently praying that he won’t hurt you. Your grab each one individually and drop them on the ground. Marcus asks you, “Is that all of them?”
“Yes,” you say. He kneels down on the ground and snatches the gun. Holding it up to your head, he motions with the knife for you to sit on the chair. You cautiously comply.
He asks you, “Who sent you.”
“My agency. I work as…”
“Who’s your client?”
“I don’t know his name.”
The target sighs to his self. “Then what do you know about him?”
“He works for an organization that rivals your organization. He requested you be killed. That’s all I know.”
An expression of insight flashes across his face. He then motions you towards the front door. “Now go. Get out of here. And tell your agency not to bother sending another one.”
Your hurriedly rush out of the front door. Harvey says, “Well, that went smoother then I expected. You got lucky, man. He coulda shot you dead right there.” You walk down the street with your head down. You start to worry what will happen to you. What will the boss say? Will you get anymore missions after this? Are you really cut out for this kind of work.
You sit back in Harvey’s car. Harvey sighs and says, “Alright, I’ll do this. You stay here.” He exits the car and disappears into the neighborhood. After a minute or two, you hear some soft grunting, followed by a gurgle.
After another moment, you see Harvey walking down the street again. He sits back down in the car and pulls off his gloves. “Do you think I still have a job?” you ask him.
Harvey shakes his head. “Don’t bother getting another assignment,” he says. He reaches his hand over. “Give me your equipment.” You unfasten the little black pouches from your belt and hand them to him. He starts up the car and drives back home. The whole trip, neither of you says a word.
Harvey parks the car outside your apartment building. “Hey, I’m sorry it didn’t go over so well,” he says. “Maybe I should have gone in there with you.”
“It’s alright,” you reply. “I don’t know how long I’d last in the job anyway.”
Harvey nods his head and drives away. You return to your apartment and lay on the couch watching television.
The next day you start your job search. You land a job as a mechanic in a local shop. The pay isn’t anywhere near as much as your assassin’s job, but at least you won’t get killed this way.
Oh, what potential you had.
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