William Dietz - Hitman - Enemy Within

The target had disappeared, but the counter-assassin was a patient man, and was willing to wait.

Agent 47 paused, eyed the open stretch of walkway that lay ahead, and hoped that the Puissance Treize agent was busy sipping hot cocoa. Then, knowing he couldn’t put the task off forever, the assassin launched himself out into the open. There was a loud spang as a 7.62 mm bullet bounced off a paver, and disappeared into the night.

Not only was the German paying attention-he was a good shot!

Agent 47 heard another slug ping off the crenellated wall to his right as he took cover behind some stone blocks. It was dark all around him, and it would have been easy to lose his way, except for one thing: Having visited the ruins prior to sending the photos to Pruter, the operative had not only carried out a general reconnaissance, but surreptitiously sprayed night-glow paint along some of the paths. So all he had to do was follow the blobs to one of two wires. Which, like the paint, batteries, and a few other odds and ends, had been purchased at the local hardware store.

“He’s still in the same place,” Diana put in helpfully. “And I don’t see anyone else in the area.”

Thus reassured, Agent 47 continued to follow the glowing green dots to the point where the number one remote was hidden. His movements resulted in a flurry of silenced shots, one of which came so close that rock chips sprayed the side of his face as he scurried along the path.

Then he was there, rolling in under the protection of a stone wall, as bullets continued to ping, whine, and spang all around him. The expenditure of that much ammo seemed nonsensical at first, until 47 realized what his opponent was up to, and the potential danger involved. The Puissance Treize agent was hoping to bounce a slug into him, just like a bank shot in a game of pool. And even if that strategy failed, the fusillade was bound to exact a psychological toll.

So Agent 47 forced himself to concentrate as his fingers probed the crevices to either side of a glowing dot. Once he had located the hidden switch it was time to pull the.40 caliber pistol, and pray.

Even as the thought crossed his mind, he realized the Supreme Being was very unlikely to take sides in a battle between hired killers, so he decided he would have to rely on skill, and an element of luck.

With that, the assassin pressed the button, an electrical charge ran up the wire, and delivered a spark to the container of petrol hidden among the rocks. The results were even more spectacular than what 47 had hoped for. There was a dull thump, followed by a sudden gout of flame that shot upward to light the surrounding area with a ghastly glow. Though completely untouched by the fire, his opponent was lit from behind as he stood to get a better look at the surrounding area.

Agent 47 was on his feet by then, with the FN clutched in both hands, firing uphill. A series of sharp reports were heard, the pistol jumped, and empty casings arced through the air. Pruter staggered as a slug hit him in the chest, but he must have been wearing body armor, since he brought the HK MP-5N submachine gun up into firing position. And thanks to 47’s muzzle flashes, the Puissance Treize agent had a point to aim at as he fired a long ten-round burst.

“He’s coming toward you!” Diana warned.

“No shit,” 47 responded as he was forced to duck, and dump the empty clip. The second one slid in smoothly, the FN’s action pushed another bullet into the chamber, and the pistol was ready to fire again. If the German bastard ever stopped shooting, that is!

The opportunity he needed came a few seconds later when the submachine gun ran dry and Pruter was forced to reload. That was when 47 popped up, saw the blocky form outlined against the quickly fading flames, and was careful to aim low. The heavy slugs cut the German’s legs out from under him. He staggered, fought to keep his balance, and fell. The body tumbled downhill, bounced into the air, and there was a sickening thump as it landed.

“Forty-seven?” Diana inquired. “Are you okay?”

“So far,” the assassin replied cautiously. “Hold on.”

The operative kept the FN pointed at the body as he approached it, felt for a pulse, and confirmed that Pruter was dead. Not from a bullet, although the German’s legs were a bloody mess, but from injuries suffered during the fall.

Not having heard any sirens, 47 took the time necessary to drag the body into a niche, where loose stones could be stacked in front of it. Then it was necessary to get the penlight out, search the area for empty casings, and collect the German’s belongings from higher up the hill.

Finally, having pulled the wire for both incendiary devices and thrown everything into the makeshift crypt, it was time to wall Pruter in.

Eventually, after days of sun, some unfortunate tourist would notice the smell. At that point the Puissance Treize assassin would be disinterred and linked to the body of the mysterious Tova Holm. There was no way to know what the authorities would make of that, and 47 didn’t care.

An hour later, with his opponent’s pack on his back, Agent 47 made his way down the hill. The night was relatively young—and the real target was still alive.

By the time 47 arrived at the top of the hillside behind the mansion, it was nearly 3:00 a.m. Late, but not too late, given the task at hand. Which was to dart the German shepherd if necessary, sneak into the house the same way he had before, and wait for morning. But by the time Agent 47 was halfway down the slope it became apparent that everything had changed.

Judging from the bright glow that could be seen through the foliage, every light in the house was on. And once the assassin got closer he realized that six uniformed security guards were roaming the grounds, rather than two. Not only that, but more dogs had been brought in, and it seemed safe to assume that the surveillance cameras were being monitored now, as well.

Agent 47 had been expecting some sort of reaction to the increased threat level, but nothing like what he was looking at, and had no choice but to retreat back up the hill. It took the better part of half an hour to reach the street above, then make his way back to the hotel, where he entered via a side door. From there the assassin went straight to Pruter’s room, made use of the German’s key to let himself in, and took a quick tour of the German’s possessions.

Then, having selected a well-cut gray suit, along with some other odds and ends, 47 went back to Tazio Scaparelli’s room where it was time to take a shower and begin work on plan B. The first step was to call Diana, tell the controller about the change of plan, and request some help.

The second step was to put aside everything he would need for the coming day, and cram the rest into Scaparelli’s expandable suitcase. That included the foam belly, the hairpiece, the paparazzo ’s clothes, Holm’s pistol, Pruter’s knapsack, and a variety of smaller items. Then, having gone over the room again to make sure he hadn’t missed anything, he took a nap.

As always, Agent 47’s eyes snapped open at 5:58 a.m. He got up, took Pruter’s Glock into the bathroom, and put the DOVO to work. Twenty minutes later he was shaved, dressed, and ready for the new day.

Pruter’s suit was a little too large, but otherwise satisfactory, even if it was gray rather than black.

The room had been paid for in advance, so there was no need to check out. Agent 47 carried Scaparelli’s heavily laden suitcase and Pruter’s black leather briefcase down the fire escape and out through the door he had used the night before. Someone was bound to discover the woman’s body before long—and the assassin wanted to be clear of the hotel when they did.