At First Sight Read online

  Angela was a foot away from the driver’s side of her car when she heard a loud BANG!

  The pale woman slammed her fist on the rooftop of Angela’s car, causing her to drop her keys in fear. The woman was standing on the passenger side of the car.

  “Hey! You’re her, aren’t you?” The woman shouted in a raspy voice, with the distinct smell of gin and cigarettes on her breath. And that was saying something as she was on the other side of the car.

  “Excuse me?” Angela asked, stepping a foot backwards. She knew this strange woman had recognized her and didn’t want any trouble from this drunken lady.

  Angela bent down to pick up her keys and watched the woman’s bare feet making her way around the car closer to her. Feeling a bit flustered by this woman, Angela began to open the door before she came any closer, but the woman pushed the front door shut as she made her way around.

  “You’re the doctor who created Pure, are you not?”

  Angela rummaged through her bag searching for the only form of protection she could use on this lady, in case things escalated into a scary confrontation.

  “Please, leave me alone. I don’t know who you think I am but I just want to get home.” Angela was concerned for her safety, but she was also pissed off she couldn’t find the one item in her bag she needed.

  Where’s that damn pepper spray? Why do I have so many packs of gum?

  While Angela was searching for her pepper spray, this woman was shouting in her face.

  “Your drug made my husband leave me for another woman! We were so happy until your damn drug came into our lives! How could you do this to us? How could you do this to me?”

  Finally, Angela’s hand felt the pepper spray bottle and she pointed it at the woman’s face. The woman backed up and stopped shouting immediately.

  “Get out of my face, lady! I didn’t make your husband leave you. I’m sorry it happened but that’s life! Sometimes things don’t happen the way you intend them to. Now, back the hell up!”

  Angela was sweating bullets, as she had never been confronted this close in person by anyone accusing her of turning their life upside down because of Pure. Sure, she had the many online trolls accusing and threatening her as of late, but never in person like this incident.

  She managed to open the front door of her car and step inside. She threw the pepper spray on the passenger seat, then quickly locked the doors and buckled her seat belt. The angry woman was now standing in front of Angela’s car, fiddling around with something inside her purse. Angela started her car and put the gear shifter in reverse, just as the strange woman pulled out a small handgun and pointed it at Angela’s windshield.

  Angela froze. She looked at this woman’s sunglasses and back at the gun pointed at her. Before Angela could even duck, the woman pulled the trigger and shot the windshield.

  The windshield cracked around the bullet hole that barely missed Angela’s right ear. Ducking down instantly after the gunshot, Angela screamed out and accidentally hit the gear shifter to the drive position, stepping on the gas pedal. The car sped off in a forward motion, hitting the frantic woman in the legs, knocking her backwards into the sand lining the parking spaces. Angela kept driving even though she heard the crazy woman—who tried to shoot her—screaming about her injured foot.

  Angela had limited time to react as she pulled away at rapid speed, dodging oncoming traffic. And then she heard it again; another gunshot hit the left taillight of her car. She screamed again, all the while keeping her head ducked down trying to look over the steering wheel in a panicked fright. She was now driving 65 mph, making her way down the road to get far away from the crazy woman she had narrowly escaped from.

  Angela kept driving as fast as she could, wiping the tears from her eyes, all the while hyperventilating from the shocking experience that had just occurred. Once she felt she had driven far enough from the beach, she pulled over to the side of the road and cried into her shaking hands. She screamed out in fright and couldn’t stop the tears from falling down her face. She looked down at her lap and there were tiny particles of glass scattered along the console of her car, as well as in her wet hair from the windshield’s bullet hole.

  Dr. Angela Haven’s life had been turned upside down. She reported the crime and waited for the police to show up at her home. Angela knew her life would never be the same. She wasn’t safe from anyone anymore. This was the moment she thought of Jeremy—her ex-fiancé, who was once the love of her life. It’s funny how quickly things can change, as he wasn’t in her life at all anymore. In fact, there wasn’t anyone special in her life. Angela felt more alone than ever before.

  III. This Way to Sway

  At first glance, one wouldn’t give much notice to the Los Angeles jazz club called, Sway. It wasn’t much to look at from the red brick exterior, but that’s what held a certain mystique to it. The brawny doorman was intimidating, standing in between the front door and the red velvet rope, creating a presence of exclusivity and prestige. Massive sunglasses and a broken-in fedora hat hid his extremely tan face, keeping the riffraff out of this very private sanctuary.

  Most nights, there was a list and if your name wasn’t on it, you were wasting your time standing in line. On this particular night, standing at the front of the line was the Mayor of Chicago, Harold Richmond, alongside his personal assistant and best friend, Henry Webster.

  It had only been a couple of weeks since Harold’s son’s wedding fiasco. For those past two weeks, Harold had to watch his son fall into a downward spiral. Sleeping all day, every day, Vance was heartbroken and felt as if he’d never get over the pain of losing Dorothy to his cousin. Vance’s father didn’t like to see his son in such a sad state-of-being and he knew something must be done about his situation.

  That’s why Harold and his personal assistant flew halfway across the country to LA to come to this particular jazz club. Harold made damn sure they were on the list tonight. He had a stern look on his face, pushing the people in line out of his way, while Henry followed closely behind. The people waiting in line hollered at him to get to the back of the line, but they didn’t realize Harold had a special meeting planned.

  He reached the front of the line and gave the overly muscular doorman his name. The doorman used an earpiece device to inform the owner of Sway, his personal guests were here. Seconds later, the robust doorman unhooked the red velvet rope and let Harold and Henry in. The music coming from inside was loud and the entryway was so dimly lit, the only thing Harold and Henry could see was the section for coat check and two draping violet velvet curtains as the main entryway inside the lounge.

  There were two levels to Sway. The main level had a dark, but vibrant, ambiance with low-key lighting and black and white pictures of classic jazz musicians who started the jazz revolution back in the 1920’s. Red suede booths lined the walls and scattered tables and chairs filled the rest of the quaint club. A dimly lit stage was the center of focus on the back wall across from the main bar. The jazz band was on their last song before their intermission. The bar area was decently filled with dressed up patrons and some Hollywood elite. The crowd was now waiting in anticipation for the next gig to start as the music died down and the lights on the stage turned off completely.

  Rumor had it Sway was actually a drug front for the owner. This rumor was, of course, just a rumor. But just because this particular rumor was false, didn’t mean there wasn’t some truth among the many whispers about Sway. The jazz club was indeed a front, but not for drugs; it was a front for a group of specialized black ops assassins using the basement level as their secret facility.

  The basement level could only be reached by use of a hidden elevator that was behind the bookshelf in the owner’s office on the main level. Only the group of specialized black ops assassins was allowed in the basement, along with the owner of Sway—who was also the group’s mission leader—and went by the name of Duke Harr
ington.

  As soon as Harold and Henry walked into the bar through the velvet curtain, a tall slender man greeted them with a simple nod signaling to follow him. They followed him closely, making the long walk through the club. This tall skinny man looked a bit out of place with his black-framed glasses and red mohawk hair cut. As the lights on the stage faded back on, everyone in the club became perfectly silent.

  Standing behind the microphone was a petite, gorgeous Hawaiian woman wearing a sparkling silver mini cocktail dress, glimmering in the soft glow of the stage lights. She gripped the microphone with her right hand, and started singing a soft blues number with just her vocals. The band walked on the stage one by one and accompanied her singing to a soft tune that hypnotized the crowd.

  This attractive singer made eyes with Harold as he passed by. He was quite captivated by her ruby red lips and her sensual voice. Henry pushed Harold forward, as the tall skinny man took the two men through a back door, close to the stage. They entered a thin hallway and walked a short way down to Duke’s office.

  It was only a couple minutes before Harold was escorted through Duke’s office door, as the tall skinny man addressed Henry, letting him know he could wait outside until their meeting was over.

  “But, I don’t leave Harold’s si—”

  Harold grabbed his friend’s shoulder, “Henry, it’s all right. It’ll be a short meeting with Mr. Harrington,” Squeezing tightly onto his shoulder. “Wait here.”

  The tall skinny man shut the door behind Harold and stood guard while Henry cracked his knuckles in frustration.

  Harold entered the old-fashioned office that smelled of cigars and potpourri and right away, Duke stood up to introduce himself.

  “You must be Harold Richmond,” he said with a puff of his cigar. “I’m Duke Harrington, we spoke on the phone earlier this week. Shall we get down to business?”

  The two men shook hands and took their seats across Duke’s Italian crafted wooden desk. His office resembled the interior of the club, with opaque lighting and black and white pictures on the walls. Duke was well into his fifties, but looked a bit older due to his smoking and drinking lifestyle that he had become accustomed to over the past 30 years. His slick black hair was receding, but he was in decent shape, filling out his grey and white pinstriped suit. He smelled of old spice and smoke.

  “Thank you for taking the time to meet with me,” Harold said while unbuttoning his suit jacket to get more comfortable. “It wasn’t easy getting a hold of a man in your position. I had to go through many associates to find someone who could potentially help me with my family’s…burden.”

  The cigar smoke swirled around Duke’s dark eyes, causing a light vapor in the office air.

  “As I told you on the phone, I heard about what happened to your son and I’m sorry your family is going through such a distressing ordeal. What can I do to help with your situation, Mr. Richmond?”

  For the next few moments, Harold’s temper was barely under control, as he explained what caused the grand catastrophe that was his son’s “almost” wedding. A few times throughout Harold’s ranting, Duke had to settle Harold down, to fully understand what he could do for him.

  “To keep this succinct, I want this woman dead.” Harold sputtered these words through his tight jaw.

  “Dorothy, you mean? The woman who left your son at the altar?”

  “No,” Harold muttered. “Dorothy caused my son terrible heartache. She’s now with my nephew, Robert. Apparently they are happy with one another. So I can’t blame her for the effects of Pure. And, I know Vance wouldn’t want Dorothy dead. She’s not the one I want put to rest.”

  “Spill it then, Mr. Mayor. Which woman are we talking about here?”

  “The woman who created that damn love drug. Angela Haven! She deserves what’s coming to her for causing such devastation in everyone’s lives. Do you know how hard it is to see my son act like a zombie because of this psychotic woman’s drug? She needs to pay for this! Now, did I fly halfway across the country to see the right man for the job, or not?”

  As Duke contemplated this proposal, he thought about his life’s journey and knew almost instantly he was the right man for the job. Duke had put together a specialized team seven years ago and they had made large sums of money for an assortment of jobs. Duke signed his team up for the missions he knew they could handle without any hiccups, even if that meant assassinating important figureheads, like Dr. Angela Haven.

  Looking Harold dead in the eye, Duke wrote down a price and slid it across his desk into Harold’s hand.

  “You came to the right man. My team and I will have the deed done in a matter of days.” Duke put his hand out to shake on the deal, as Harold looked over the amount this would cost him.

  “See that you do, Mr. Harrington,” Harold said, shaking Duke’s hand. “See that you do.”

  Harold stood up and took an envelope out of his coat pocket filled with cash, turning his back to Duke, he counted and replaced the proper amount of bills into the envelope, and then placed it back on the desk sliding it towards Duke. The amount inside the envelope was half; and he’d get the other half when the job was done, which was all part of the agreement.

  Meanwhile, Henry was leaning against the hallway wall with his eyes shut listening to the sweet sounds of the beautiful woman singing a more upbeat song on the stage. Harold hustled out of Duke’s office hastily.

  “Let’s go.”

  Harold and Henry made their way through the tables in the main lounge, as the pretty woman walked off the stage making her way to the bar. The room was still applauding and chattering, enjoying their lavish cocktails. Moments later, the sounds of another jazz band began to fill the room with some mellow mood music.

  Harold left Sway feeling a sense of relief, knowing he was doing a solid favor for his son and the rest of the world by hiring Duke and his team of specialists for this imperative job.

  Back inside Sway, the beautiful Hawaiian singer walked up to the bar. Turning to face the crowded club, she leaned her back up against the bar adjusting the bow in her hair.

  The handsome bartender asked, “What’ll you have, babe?”

  “The usual. And you don’t get to call me babe anymore, Ace.”

  Ace made her the usual drink that agreed with her, a whiskey ginger, as he smirked to himself thinking...

  Was she always this cold?

  The bartender, Ace, tended bar when he wasn’t on black ops missions. He was part of Duke’s elite team, as the sharp shooting sniper. Ace was his codename because he was an ace in the hole when it came to shooting. He was in his mid thirties, with dark handsome features and the lightest brown eyes. His crew cut hairstyle fitted him well, matching the scruff on his chiseled face. If he wanted, he could’ve had a career in modeling, but he enjoyed his work—shooting people for large sums of money.

  The beautiful singer’s codename was Bows, because she usually had at least one bow in her long black hair. She was the diversion for most of their missions because her beauty was quite entrancing and distracting. Not to mention she was quite deadly with a blade.

  Ace clinked glasses with Bows as they both took a swig of their drinks. They sat there conversing with one another, making casual small talk, until it was closing time and everyone had left the cozy club.

  The large doorman came back inside and took a seat next to Bows. He was also apart of the special ops team and his code name was Boulder, due to his large stature. He ordered his beer of choice and chugged it down in less than 30 seconds. Wiping the beer from his full black beard he squinted at the television. He didn’t join in on Ace and Bow’s conversation; instead, he changed the channel from behind the bar and watched ESPN highlights, spinning his fedora around his finger.

  The tall skinny man with glasses and the red mohawk walked up to the seat next to Boulder. His code name was Worm, due to his long la
nky body and the fact that he could hack into any computer system. He was about to sit down, but from the look Boulder gave him, Worm moved two seats over.

  The four members of the team sat at the bar and waited for Duke. He informed them they needed to be here tonight because he had a meeting with a potential client. Duke walked up to the bar moments later, and Ace had a dirty martini ready for him.

  “Where’s your brother, Boulder?” Duke asked, after taking a large sip of his martini.

  “He said he’d be running late. He had a lot of unpacking to do at this one’s apartment.” Boulder said nodding in Bows’ direction.

  Boulder knew this comment would cause some tension in the room between Bows and Ace. The two had broken up a while ago, but Bows had moved on faster than Ace thought possible, by dating Boulder’s brother. He was also a member of Duke’s team, and his code name was Rocky. He wasn’t as big and bulky as his fraternal twin brother, but he was still a large muscular man, so the codename Rocky fit him well.

  Bows quickly changed the subject and asked, “So, do we have a new target?”

  “I wanted to wait for Rocky, but who knows when he’ll get his dumb ass in here. Our new client wants the job done this week. Our target is a high profile woman that has been in the spotlight for the last year. We’ve all seen her TV interviews and it’s not going to be the easiest mission we’ve encountered, but we always accomplish what we set out to do, no matter how difficult the circumstances seem to be. Our target’s name is, Dr. Angela Haven. It’s a shoot to kill operation; pretty standard, but let’s head downstairs and get this set up in pre-ops.”

  Ace immediately perked up when he heard the target’s name. He made eyes with Bows and a second later, they both turned away from one another. This woman wasn’t just famous around the world; she had changed their lives indirectly.