Death is Part of the Process

Authors Avatar

Justin Liu Maine A English Coursework AMS

Death is Part of the Process

Night.

        02:37.

        South London.

        The room was small and filthy. Neglected. Long abandoned. It smelled bad. Beyond the grimy window, the rooftops of nearby buildings gleamed black from the rain. The roads and pavements were shiny and wet and empty.

        The room was in darkness. There was one chair. One small, broken table. Nothing else.

        A figure sat hunched over a laptop computer. The weak, greenish light from the screen glowed on a pale face with feverish eyes. A dry tongue licked dry lips.

        Fingers tapped at the keyboard and words scrolled out on the screen.

Shadow: I hear you are good at what you do. Is that true?

        The poised hands trembled. Cold sweat ran. A heart was beating fast and hard.

        Words began to appear on the screen.

Spider: What service do you require?

Shadow: I want you to hurt someone. What kind of things do you do?

Spider: I work to order. What are your requirements?

Shadow: I want him to suffer.

Spider: Do you want elimination?

        Shadow stared at that last line of type. Uneasy. Hesitant.

        Elimination

        Sweat dripped on to the keyboard. Breath came rapidly in small hard gasps. A fist clenched in a tight chest.

Spider: Do you want this person dead?

        The hunched figure was shaken from its stupor. Fingers began to type, slowly, deliberately.

Shadow: I want him humiliated. I want him crushed. I want him finished.

        There was a short pause. Then:

Spider: Understood. We need to agree the fee and the method of payment. And I will need full details of the target.

Shadow: Not yet. We can discuss all these things when the time comes. I just need to know I can rely on you if are needed.

Shadow did not see the need to tell Spider everything at this stage. If Shadow’s plans worked out, then Spider would not be needed. Spider was just a fall-back position, in case something went wrong.

        Words scrolled rapidly across the screen.

Spider: Unauthorised user detected. Disconnecting now.

Shadow stared at the screen. Eyes blank.

Shadow: What do you mean? Are you still there?

There was no response.

“Damn!” Shadow’s face contorted with anger. “Damn you!” Then the urgency of the situation seemed to hit. Someone was monitoring their conversation. Breath hissed. The head turned sharply and the eyes stared back at the open doorway.

Someone was out there.

Someone was coming.

Danny Bell crouched low over a bank of electronic equipment in the back of the Mobile Surveillance Unit. He was wearing a lightweight headset. He glanced up at monitor screens and digital displays. His fingers moved rapidly over the keyboard of a laptop computer. He was absolutely concentrated on the task in hand. The e-conversation between Spider and Shadow was on-screen.

        A man and a woman sat with him in the back of the van. Another man was driving them through the rain-wet streets of South London. The two officers that sat in the back of the van with Danny were trainee police officers just like Danny. The officer driving in the front was older and more experienced than the three in the back, but on a job like this, they waited on Danny’s instructions.

        “OK. I’ve still got them,” he said. “It’s fine. It’s cool.” He grinned. “Keep talking, my friends, just keep talking.” He glanced around at his companions. “We’re close.” He held up a hand; finger and thumb a fraction apart. “We’re this close. Hold on to your hats. Jack! Sharp right here.”

        The driver responded instantly and the MSU cornered at speed. Bracing themselves against the side of the van, the two officers in the back looked at one another. Being told what to do by a fellow trainee was a new experience for both of them, but they understood that the young black American knew his stuff when it came to the expensive technology that filled the van. As far as this high-speed car chase through the night was concerned, Danny was in control.

        Danny was from Chicago. He had come to London with his father under an FBI Witness Protection Scheme. Hiding from the Mob. Scary stuff. But right now, Danny had other things to think about. Right now he was working for the British police.

        Police Investigation Command had been tracking the hit man called Spider for months. A lethal assassin, he was famous for killing his victims with a single, clean shot and disappearing instantly without a trace. Tonight’s mission was the closest they had come to nailing him.

        In the tangle of streets, Danny’s electronic map was proving difficult to follow.

        “Is there a right turn coming up?” he asked Jack.

        “Yes,” came the reply through his headset. “It’s coming up now.”

        “Take it. What does it look like out there?”

        “We’re in an estate of some kind. A housing estate. It looks pretty grim. I don’t think anyone lives here. I think it’s being knocked down.”

        One of the officers leaned over Danny’s shoulder. “Are you sure this is right?”

        Danny tapped keys and watched green and red lights flickering on the digital map. “Yes.”

        The MSU cruised slowly through the semi-derelict housing estate.

        The hairs stood up on the back of Danny’s neck. “We’re right on top of him,” he whispered. His eyes still fixed on the monitors, he reached out and picked up two oblong signalling bugs. The devices were made of metal, which gleamed dully in the dim light inside the van.

        “Alex, Maddie- take these. I need you outside so I can pinpoint the location of our friend.” Danny activated the devices. Red lights began to pulse on and off.

        The two officers grabbed the bugs and opened the back door of the van. It was no longer raining, but their feet splashed on the wet road as they stepped down. They walked in opposite directions, spreading the signal. The van crawled on, its engine barely turning over.

Join now!

        Danny heard Jack’s voice in his headset. “How accurately can you pinpoint him with this gear?”

        Danny grinned. “I can tell you what room he’s in. I can tell you which way he’s facing and what colour shirt he’s got on. OK, stop the van.”

        Danny took the headset off. He carried the laptop to the open back of the van. He pointed to the long dark bulk of the nearest building. Brick-built. Five storeys high, its front striped by grey balconies.

        “He’s in there,” Danny called to the two officers.

        Jack appeared around the side of the van. “And ...

This is a preview of the whole essay