He sat there, in his rover. He’d sat there close to ten minutes already and he hadn’t moved an inch. He wondered, “What am I to do again?” He couldn’t seem to remember. White noise on his radio was suddenly cut by his commanding officer’s voice, bringing him right out his daze.
“Bo, do you copy? Head back to base. Your mission is over. Bo? Bo, we need you to move…we’re losing night… Bo? Do you copy?”
“10-4, this is Bo. Heading back to base now.” he said gruffly.
Her body kept growing heavier; she lay limply across the front seat, her head nestled in his thighs. He didn’t want to move her. He did not understand why. He had never been here before. He could hear his rover’s tires plough the fine sand. Desert nights are cold, even so, he had beads of sweat all across his brow. Anticipation perhaps.
Earlier that day, he had gotten his final orders. He was to lure his mark to the desert for her execution. He had worked this mark for months now and he knew this day would come, however he didn’t know this is how it would play out. He went to the transmission room in his bunker to get his video briefing. He walked in and pressed play. His CO came on the screen.
“Bo, you have gotten to close to the Widow. We have to pull this off in the best way possible, without blowing your cover. Those are orders straight from the top. My hands are tied here. So here’s the deal, tell her you have a new lead for her and he wants to meet out in the desert at midnight. It shouldn’t be a hard sell, she is desperate now and she needs supply, plus you have in the palm of your hand. Hawk will drop her, he is the best sniper we got. Radio in as soon as we have a go.”
He hated these briefings. They didn’t care what he thought about missions when they briefed him like this. What did they mean too close? The Widow trusted him enough to have him eat at her table. He had worked so hard and the bloody bastards were now taking the best part of the mission from him. The closing. How dare they? Was he just a pawn, that they thought they could play anyway they felt? He felt insulted more so that they picked Hawk. A sniper? They had no idea that he had already mapped out how Widow would meet her end. It was going to be his masterpiece. Hawk was no artist, he was just a cold killer.
He headed back up into the main house and decided it was time to get ready. He called Widow and set up the meet. It was harder than they thought to convince her to ride with him and leave her mugs behind. He knew then that he had indeed won her trust. Or maybe she was really that desperate. Word on the street was that her cartel had vowed loyalty to a new don and she was out in the cold. She needed anything to reclaim her honor and restore her street cred. This new lead from Bo could be her way out. They agreed to meet at 2300h and drive out to the desert.
He took his time getting ready. A long shower, a meal and a good stiff drink. It was going to be an eventful night and he needed to focus. Hunger did him no good and the drink calmed his nerves.
He set out, throwing a duffel into the back seat of his rover, he headed out to the Widow’s mansion and picked her up. She was dressed in jungle green cargo pants and a matching long sleeved shirt. She said she had to look tough, like the commander that she was. He suddenly felt underdressed in his black vest and blue jeans. Maybe he too should have dressed menacingly.
“It doesn’t matter,” he thought. “They will know I mean business.”
They drove out in silence till the meet point and he sent out the signal that they were there. The Widow was eerily calm when he assured her his contact would show up when they didn’t immediately spot them. How desperate was she? Anyone else would have felt the cold metal of her side arm that she thought she had hidden so well under her waistband. So they waited. All of twenty minutes.
Bo wondered what Hawk was waiting for. He felt like such a pansy. In no control of his current situation. Following orders from his CO, directives from the Widow who was now growing too antsy she wanted to drive back. He knew full well, driving back meant he was driving back to his death at her mansion, if he would even make it back all the way. He hated this.
Finally he saw the laser dot on her forehead as she continually blasted into his ear what a total waste of time this had been. What was Hawk waiting for? Why wasn’t he taking the shot already? Another minute passed and she faced forward and was immediately executed. She fell face first into the dashboard. He took her and lay her across the seat, to make her look like she was asleep on his thighs his cover for the drive back into town.
He sat there for ten minutes, in his enraged daze planning his end to this mission. He had his own plans. There was still going to be a masterpiece tonight, even though it wasn’t the Widow who lay dead in his car. He was to take the body back to base, as proof of completion to the powers that be.
He wiped the sweat off his brow and began to smile now that he had come back to his senses and the anticipation of his kill back at base boiled his blood that he didn’t feel the biting cold desert air.
Finally he remembered what he was to do. He reached for his duffel in the back seat. He took out his double barrel shotgun and had it within reach. His smile grew wider.
He was thirsty, blood thirsty