The Assassination

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Thrillers  |  House: Booksie Classic


When Jack is called on by his boss he knows it's not good news. Then he gets the order he's been dreading.

Submitted: March 13, 2018

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Submitted: March 13, 2018

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Jack ordered a pint of bitter. He glanced around the pub. The man he was here to meet was at a table in a quiet corner. He was sipping a pint and flicking through a tabloid newspaper.

Jack grabbed his pint and went over. He took the seat facing him.

‘Evening, George.’

‘Hello, Jack.’

To anyone looking on they were two men in their late forties having a catch up over a pint. That was not the case. George had summoned Jack. If George wanted to see you then something was wrong. He was at the top of his game. He’d got where he was by employing those he trusted and letting them get on with it. If you made money and took care of business George left you alone.

And now here Jack was sitting facing him. Something big was going down.  

George leaned forward, arms folded. Jack leaned in, waiting for George to speak.

‘We need to talk about Doyle.’

‘What about him?’

‘He's got to go, Jack.’

‘You want me have him killed?’

‘It's the only way.’

Jack said nothing.

‘You've known this day would come eventually. People in his line of work always end up dead.’

‘But we've been through a lot. It's been twelve years.’

‘We've reached the end of the road.’

‘He's always been a good earner. He's made us a lot of money.’

‘It's time. You know it.’

Jack paused for a long moment.

‘We can't rush into this. It's murder, we're talking about.’

‘He has to die. He's got too big. He's bigger than we ever intended. He's out of our control.’

‘I can't believe we're even talking about this.’

Jack took a long gulp of his pint.

‘How are we going to do it?’ He asked

‘It has to be done properly. I want professionals, not some young punks.’

‘Reichenbach?’

‘He's the only one.’ said George.

‘I agree. We owe it to Doyle to end it right. When do we do it?’

‘Tonight. It's got to happen tonight.’

‘I'll take care of it.’ said Jack.

Jack finished the last of his pint. He headed to the door without looking back.

He walked down the dark city streets, cars rushing by, their headlights sweeping over him. His head was spinning. He could hardly believe he was about to arrange the execution of a man who he considered a close friend, a brother.

He let himself into his flat. He went straight through to the kitchen. He poured himself a large whiskey and took a hit. He sighed. He knew that if George said it had to be done then he was right. He was the best publisher in the business. Jack grabbed his notepad and pen.

Chapter One.


© Copyright 2018 CTPlatt. All rights reserved.

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