Part 1.9

Part 1.9

I’m not gonna lie, the way Sandra avoided me did hurt my feelings.

Giving up the life and holding hands did cross my mind for a second.

But only for a second.

Let’s get back on topic.

Four months after the debacle, the date for Marky’s wedding was set.

February 19, 2076.

The rehearsal dinner was planned for a week before the actual wedding.

Normally, it wouldn't be that far apart, but these people have insane schedules and security.

As a bodyguard, I’m not privy to these details.

But, as an overqualified assassin, I can do what I want.

To keep my eyes clear, so that I couldn't be caught off guard, I kept to audio only.

Marky was complaining to his friends about how he wasn’t ready for marriage.

Of course, he did; he was a little bastard who deserved everything I dished out.

Next was Marky’s dad and Charlemagne.

What is it with the St. Patrick family and Roman Emperor names?

To be fair, Nero St. Patrick was much easier to remember.

The two dads were talking about how Nero would hire some of Charlemagne’s men into the TAF.

So much corruption, and it was about to get worse.

A real hero might end this wedding to save the city.

Me, I couldn't care less.

Let it all burn.

The third ‘Great War’ should have wiped us all out, and yet here we are.

As I was saying, the last group I listened in on was Kennedy and Sandra.

It is normally so easy to hate the übers.

They lie, they cheat, they have others bleed for them, or they just walk over your used-up corpse.

But Kennedy surprised me a little.

She asked Sandra if we had made up.

It was sweet until Sandra said she would rather cut my balls off.

I have to admit, it was funny in a sad kind of way.

Could you blame her?

Next on my list was The Butler.

After he was done slapping around the help, he would snivel around the bosses’ asses.

What a little creep, but at least I wouldn’t lose any sleep after what I had planned.

Before I tell you what I had planned, I have to explain the setup.

That second program I had was an airtight alibi.

When I performed the hit, it would seem like I never left my post outside his door.

That was the easy part.

Getting that slimy bastard to sit still in his room took forever.

For the entire day, a bunch of randos came in and out of the manor.

You have never experienced boredom until you are forced to endure a bunch of rich people who secretly hate each other.

I am glad I never have to go through that again.

At one point, Sandra and me were forced to stand next to each other.

Luckily, there was a stupid über that saved me from the awkwardness.

I don’t remember his stupid name, but he did confess his love for Kennedy and begged her not to marry Marky.

I had to turn my head to keep from laughing.

As I did, I locked eyes with Kennedy.

She actually looked embarrassed.

When she saw my smile, she started laughing at the guy.

If I remember correctly, she did say something cruel and funny.

“You love my father’s money and power. Go confess to him.”

That made me cough a little, as the whole room looked at this kid.

That just goes to show that good times could happen anywhere.

After all the pleasantries, Marky finally went to his room.

I brought him a little surprise and placed it on his dresser earlier in the day.

When he entered his room, I walked in with him.

I shoved him as I locked the door.

Before he could react, a pistol was pointed at his forehead.

He did give me the whole ‘why are you doing this’ spiel.

I just pointed at the small box on his dresser.

“Open it.”

Inside the box was a picture of your face.

He needed to know why his life was about to end.

He did try speaking.

“This is-”

Before he could say your name, I put the barrel to his forehead.

“Shut the fuck up! You don’t get to say her name! She’s dead because of you!”

He started crying, and he pissed his pants.

“I di-didn’t do it! I swear!”

He dropped the box, and I made him pick it up.

I smiled as I lowered the barrel.

“I know. It was your scumbag father and Charlemagne. She wasn’t good enough for you. They wanted the dynasties to merge.”

I put my gun away, and the kid went down to his knees.

“I didn’t do anything. It was all them. Please. I don’t… I don’t want to die!”

I hunched down so that I could look him in the eye.

“You didn’t kill her, but you knew, and you didn’t do shit, Marky.”

That was the moment a burst of gunfire from the box hit him in the chest.

I held eye contact until I saw the light go out of his eyes.

After that, I stood up and went to my post.

The next thing I did was execute the frame program.

Smythe was going to have a very bad time.

When I was certain that everything was in order, I detonated the box.

I put a lot of explosives in that tiny box.

Enough to blow part of the wall away with myself in the blast radius.

But not so much as to cause myself extensive injuries.

I needed to keep up appearances.

Here is a good way not to be suspected when you kill your employer.

When a bunch of people come to see what happened, let them see you digging through the rubble.

I am pretty sure I looked like hell, but on the inside, I studied everyone for a trace of suspicion.

Everyone just looked at me like I was a good little bodyguard.

Everyone except Sandra.

She looked worried.

Fuck.