Angel and the Assassin: Be Brave

wrong, I’ll do this. If I get injured, I’ll do that.
    It was the buzz he needed.
    Each job was a series of precisely planned unknowns, and strategizing for each
    possibility was what kept his mind and body alive. However, he simply couldn‟t
    deny that in the seconds before the kill, he felt more in tune with his surroundings,
    more at peace and more certain that he was in the right place doing the right thing
    than at any other moment.

    56
    Fyn Alexander

    This is what I do. This is who I am.

    * * *
    In the first-class cabin of the British Airways plane, Kael pulled out his diary

    and began to write.

    My first kill was a sniper hit, and Misha was with me. She came to my flat one
    day with two tickets to Amsterdam and said, “We’re going on a jaunt. You don’t need
    to bring anything.” I had no idea at that point that she was following orders, but we
    had known each other for a year and were great friends by then, and anyway, I was
    game for anything. We arrived at Schiphol Airport in the early evening and went
    directly into the middle of the city. It was April, so it was still cool, especially in the
    evening. And Holland tends to be damp.
    “What are we going to do?” I asked her. She said, “Shut up. Don’t ask questions.
    Just do as I tell you,” and that was when I got suspicious. We walked onto a bridge
    over Keizergracht—the Emperor’s Canal. Directly ahead of us, a man walked with a
    carryall with something long in it. He put it down without stopping and disappeared
    into the darkness. Misha walked straight over to the bag and glanced around. “Open
    the bag,” she ordered. I opened the bag. “Assemble,” she said. I squatted on the
    ground and assembled the high-powered rifle. “See the water taxi?”
    I stood up and looked down the canal. Coming toward the bridge was a long,
    glassed-in water taxi still several hundred yards away. The lights were on inside,
    and with my exceptional eyesight, I could see the security men on board. The taxi
    was cruising nearer to the bridge by the second. “There’s a woman on board, fifties,
    black dress, blonde hair in a bun at the back.” I raised the rifle and looked through
    the sight. “That’s your target. Leave the rifle behind.”
    Misha walked away.
    I had about three seconds from when she gave me my target to focus and fire
    before the taxi got too close to the bridge. I hit my target through the temple. Before
    she dropped to the ground, I had put down the rifle and begun walking in the
    direction Misha had gone. For several minutes I couldn’t find her, so I kept moving.
    “Hey, handsome. Are you hungry?” She stepped out of a doorway and fell into step
    with me.
    “I’m starving,” I told her.
    We went to a pub and ordered food. I was elated. I couldn’t stop laughing and
    joking. Misha remarked that she had never seen me so animated. “How do you feel,
    mate?” she asked.
    “I feel great,” I said, and it was true. “I feel alive. I feel like I could do
    anything.”
    “You were born for this job,” she said. “You’ll be on your own after this. You
    don’t need me to hold your hand anymore.”
    “What happened to the rifle?” I asked.

    Angel and the Assassin: Be Brave

    57

    She said, “The rifle was probably picked up within seconds of you putting it
    down. Anyway, it’s not your problem. You do only what you’re told to do, and the rest
    is someone else’s job.” We finished our meal, had a few more beers, and headed back
    to London.

    58
    Fyn Alexander

    Chapter Seven

    “Angel Gabriel Button!”
    “Oh my God. Is that your full name? And who‟s that fat bugger?” Jack pointed
    across the street.
    Classes had just finished for the day, and Angel had asked Jack to go home
    with him to spend the night so he wouldn‟t be alone. “Shut up. He might hear you.”
    Freddie Merchant sat in a red BMW, waving out of the window at him. “Hi,
    Freddie!” he called. “Wait there,” he told Jack. Angel looked both ways and ran
    across the street. In the back, two little girls were strapped into car seats. They both
    screamed, “Angel!” when they saw him.
    “Hi, girls.” He waved into the backseat. “How‟s it going, Freddie?”
    “Everything‟s peachy with us. It was nice to see you and Kael at Christmas,
    but that was two months ago. We don‟t see enough of you. How‟s Kael?”
    “He‟s fine. You know Daddy.”
    “Did the old man enjoy his birthday?” Freddie‟s face stretched into a