The Less Interesting TimesTemper Your Enthusiasm

2008/08/19 The Modern Ronin – Least Wanted

“We have to kill him,” Iris said.
Lahav just stared blankly at her. He didn’t say anything but it was obvious what he was thinking. For all the time they had worked together, they ran across a multiple of foes, enemies and nemeses. From the drunk and bored all the way up to assassins with a cause and a paycheck. For all that time, Lahav never killed a single one of them. Iris had to do some of it herself but mostly she let it slide. A funny kink for a crook: a murder-phobia. Up until now, it did not matter. He either left guards unconscious, took obstacles out of the way or Iris was there to do the job herself. Now, the target had to die and Lahav will have to do it.
He silently took out his weapon and switched to the fourth barrel. “Incendiary,” The female voice spoke softly. He touched the release button and the barrel slid out of its socket and into his hand. He placed it in one of his many pockets and took out a different one.
The VaLeSA was a shady and ominous pistol, in contrast to its non-lethal purpose. It was designed for stealth, it was designed for Lahav. All of its accompanying parts were also dark but this one was different. The new barrel was darker and with a reddish tint, as if it was covered with dried blood and burned down with a pulse finish laser. He slid the new barrel into place and the latch automatically closed behind it.
“Empty,” the VaLeSA intoned gently.
“Empty?” Iris asked, taking her eyes off the road for several seconds.
“It’s not empty,” Lahav replied with a dry voice, not returning her gaze.

“How did you get past the guards?”
“It wasn’t easy but I’ve taken the proper precautions. And don’t try and shout for help. This room is sound proof and I’ve cut the intercom.” Lahav raised his weapon and the man didn’t flinch.
“I know you. I’ve seen you in the pits. You’re the Blade That Doesn’t Cut. You never hurt anyone. I admit you’re good but you don’t have the capacity to kill. I’ve seen you put men on the brink of death and pull them back. You’ve got some moral imperative to keep people alive. Now step aside; and if you’re out of my house in five minutes, I’ll forget all about this.”
The man tried to move past him but Lahav got in his way, putting the gun to his forehead.
“There’s more at stake here. In these situations, when the river of life pounds you down and carries you away, we must change or be swept under.”
“Great. Another warrior poet.”
Lahav pulled the trigger and for the first time since he started using the weapon, he blinked as he did so.

Posted in From the Writing Desk by Eran with 7 comments.