Just a Hired Gun

It was midnight in old town Belfast. Pitch black other than the lamp post lighting the main paths and streets of this quiet town. A cold icy breeze blew the snow and cold between the buildings and across the streets; nothing was safe from its biting chill. No one in their right mind would be outside right now. Not only was it beyond uncomfortable, but there was simply no reason to be.

Of course, there was one particular man didn't seem to think so.

Even though it was below zero out and everyone had turned in for the night, there was still one man walking down the icy sidewalk of the main street.  He wore nothing but a heavy vest over a simple hoodie. He did have a cheep beanie, and a scarf, but nothing to completely compensate how cold he was right now.

Alas, he didn't care. He had a job to do and, just as any other job of this caliber, it simply can't be delayed due to bad weather or timing. Yes, it sucked, but this job was a particularly important job. One that he wouldn't, for the life of him, give up on. It was his last after all...

Least he hoped so.

His job was simple. He needed to deliver something. Something extremely important. Something that he could not allow anyone to touch. This something was currently in a dufflebag slung over his shoulder. His only intention was to deliver this package safe to the intended receivers, by any means necessary.

After that, it would all finally be over. After this job, he can finally be at peace.

The man was walking quickly, so it wasn't long before her reached the bay side shipyard. From there, all he would have to do was make it across the walking bridge, up the hill, across the highway, and to Miller street. He was so close now, all he had to do was reach it.

Taking a left and walking across the docks, he began to make his way to the walking bridge. It was still there, just as he remembered it. Still here after all these years... At one time, it was his road from one life to one full of mistakes. Now his road to salvation. He found the notion kind of fitting. What had been done can be undone, so to speak.

With a growing smile on his face, he began a slow run towards the bridge. He needed to deliver this package, remove this weight off his shoulders. He couldn't stand it anymore. He needed this burden gone.

However, he jog ended up slowing as he began to sense something off... For some reason, he was feeling like this was almost too easy. He felt the way he had a million times over when he felt he had missed an important detail... A very important detail.

That was about when he noticed it. Clearly viable from the light of the bridge lamb, there sat a figure. It was another man, wearing a heavy coat, sitting on the bench next to the bridge. He was staring right at him.

It was pretty obvious that this man was not out here this time of night admiring the weather. Just like the man with the dufflebag, this man had an agenda.

With a sigh, the courier approached the bench, the other man staring him down the entire time. The courier knew this man, knew him quite well in fact. Though he was hoping he wouldn't have to run into him, especially now. If he was here, then it was obvious what he was after. No matter what, he couldn't let him have it. He couldn't let him get in the way.

That only meant one solution. Kill the bastard.

Pulling out a silenced 9mm, the courier wasted no time taking aim and firing twice at the man.

The shots, much to the courier's annoyance, was hastily taken and only grazed the man's heavy coat. The man recoiled from the attempted double tap, a shocked look upon his face. Apparently he wasn't expecting a firefight this quickly... Knowing him, the courier guessed that he expected a talk before they started their showdown.

Cursing under his breath, the courier was already taking aim for another double tap. Unfortunately his adversary was much faster than that. Getting over his initial shock of what had just happened, the man bolted from the bench and quickly dived for cover behind the concrete railing of the bridge.

The courier, realizing that he was now the only one without cover, approached aggressively. He emptied his clip into bridge and dived for cover behind a concrete slab as he fired his last round.

He was in the middle of reloading when his opponent finally started firing back; his weapon was also silenced. Chips of concrete flew from the courier's cover as his enemy unloaded his own gun.

Eventually the firing stopped, and the courier finished loading his gun. He counted 16 bullets, whatever gun the other man was using, he couldn't have that many left in his clip.

Silence took hold of the battlefield for a few moments before a voice rang out from the bridge.

"You still alive, asshole!?" The man shouted.

The courier rolled his eyes as he heard the man's words. This obviously meant he still wanted to talk. Otherwise, they would be playing an hour long waiting game; one waiting for the other to make a move.

"Come and find out." The courier stated calmly.

"Yeah, fuck you too Keith! That was very fucking rude you know! Though I suppose I should have expected that, knowing how much of a coward you are!" The man shouted.

Keith rolled his eyes once again. At this rate, he was sure that the man was going to try to talk his way to a bullet in Keith's head. He couldn't allow himself to be distracted by the bullshit spewing from that man's mouth. It was how he usually worked.

"Cory, shut the fuck up. Don't even try to talk your way out of this. The only sound I am listening for is you running out of ammo." Keith replied.

"Pray tell, why shouldn't I? You're a reasonable person, aren't you? I'm not sure why you are shooting at me, but I am sure it is a BIG misunderstanding!" Cory tried.

"Shut the fuck up, Cory. I know you are here for the bag. Problem is, it is not for you. Now, take a swim, or kindly stand up and die." Keith stated, taking aim at Cory's cover.

"Okay, okay! Maybe I am here because of a bag! Seriously though! I swear to god I wasn't going to try to kill you for it! I have money! I was going to see if I could perhaps buy it from you! Honest!" Cory tried again.

Keith was still not having it.

"It's not for sale, nor will it be for sale. I've given you two choices, choose." Keith deadpanned.

Cory was quiet for a moment, getting Keith's hopes up that he might actually shut the fuck up. Unfortunately, he was simply thinking about what to say next.

"Heh, I fucking knew it... I knew there was a reason the boss always liked you. You were super fucking cheap and extremely loyal to whatever cause you served. You would always do a job for practically nothing, and only do jobs for us! No matter how good the other deals were! It was insanity! Best fucking killer in our outfit, and you charged mere pennies compared to the rest of us! I've always wondered why you did it... Obviously it wasn't for the money." Cory said.

Keith remained silent, simply keeping his aim steady towards Cory's cover. He was not about to allow Cory's little monologue to distract him.

"Yeah, it wasn't about the money, was it Keithy? No, you did it because you liked it! You got a kick out of killing all those people! All fifty-two of them! Fuck, perhaps even more! Who the fuck knows what you did outside our contracts!? You're a goddamn serial killer, and we had you on a leash! I have to wonder why the boss let you go... Hell, given how much of a rabid dog you are, I'm surprised that he didn't just have you killed in your sleep."

Keith kept his focus on the cover, he was sure that Cory was about to make a move.

"Eh, I guess it doesn't really matter now, does it? After all, only one of us is leaving here alive..."

Any moment now...

"I have one last question though... It had really been bugging me since it happened. It didn't make much sense, considering your relationship with the guy."

Any moment...

"Why the fuck didn't you just LET GARRET GO!!!???" Cory shouted.

With that, Cory sprung out of, weapon in hand, preparing to end Keith's life...

...only for two rounds of 9mm to puncture his chest.

Cory fell to the ground, hitting the snow below him with a wet splash. He groaned in agony as as he tried to comprehend what had just happened.

"No.... Not like this... He was supposed to..." Cory mumbled to himself as he heard the sound of crunching snow approach his position.

"I was suppose to what? Let my guard down? Did you really think that would work?"

Looking towards the source of the sound, he found Keith standing over him, gun pointed straight at his skull. Looking into his eyes, Cory saw a nothingness, not even a hint of emotion. It was now apparent to Cory that bringing up the name of one of his victims, a rather personal one, did nothing to compromise him. Cory couldn't understand why.

"H-how could you do it? How could you j-just do it and not feel a thing? Garret was-"

"Garret was a fucking traitor. That is all there is to it." Keith stated plainly.

Not even a moment later, Keith took Cory's gun from his hands and threw it over the bridge. He then began to check Cory for any other weapons. He did find a few, which he promptly sent to join the other.

"Heh, I was right. You are a fucking monster. You enjoyed killing, no matter who it is..."

"That is not true, never has been true. Sorry if that debunks your little theory you got going there." Keith said.

With that, Keith got up and pointed his gun at Cory, seemingly preparing to end him.

"Oh really? Why else would you do it? If not for pleasure or money, then what?" Cory asked.

"Nothing you are ever going to find out." Keith replied.

With that, Keith shot Cory twice in the stomach. Cory cried out in agony as clutched his new wounds, trying fruitlessly to ease the pain and bleeding. However, it was to no effect.

"Crawl away, little snake. Perhaps you can slither your way to the hospital before you bleed out. I wouldn't get you're hopes up though." Keith mocked as he holstered his pistol.

"F-fuck you, you fu-fucking monster." Cory barely got out.

"No more than you are. Now, if you will excuse me. I have a delivery to make." Keith stated as he turned his back and walked away.

Not a shred of sympathy was spared for the man. As far as Keith was concerned, Cory deserved a fate worse than death. Unfortunately, he had no time to spare for the man. Letting him bleed out on the bridge was a suitable enough death for him. Now, he needed to deliver his package. This one last job needed to be completed. After that, he would be free.

He was finally going to be free...

"H-ey, Keith." Cory croaked out behind him.

Keith paid no mind to the dying man, he had better things to do than to waste his time talking to a corpse.

Unfortunately for Keith, that turned out to be a mistake.

*POP*

Keith stopped in his tracks as he felt a bullet tear through his back and out his chest.

"You miss one... asshole." Cory finally said.

Stumbling, Keith pulled out his pistol once again and took aim at Cory. He was not quick enough however as two more bullets impacted him, sending him flying to the ground.

"That was for Garret... You fucking psychopath..." Cory stated.

With that, Cory laid flat on the ground, placing his hand and gun on his chest; awaiting death with open arms. What he had come here to do was done, and now he was done.

Keith tried to breath in only to find he was drowning. The last two bullets struck both of his lungs, allowing blood to rapidly seep in. It wasn't going to be long until he suffocated.

Keith had imagined it could end like this, dying before he reached his destination, just not this close... It was just over the bay river and over the hill. It was just right there. He was so close, and now it was so far out of reach...

He failed...

Keith tried to imagine how it was going to go from here. What was going to happen after he died. Who was going to find him first? The cops? A random person? If either, what will they do with the bag? What would they do with the contents inside it? Would they even see the letter? Would they finish carrying it to its final destination? Will they keep it for themselves? Was this all for nothing?

None of these Questions were ones Keith could answer. Not that it actually mattered. Once he was dead, nothing was going to matter...

In a way, Keith was thankful for this. After all, death is the ultimate release. In a way, he was still freed.

It was up to fate now to complete his mission. One way or another...

Keith clutched the bag close, waiting patiently for the end to come.

That was when he felt himself falling...