L. Sellers - The Gauntlet Assassin

It couldn’t be that hard, she mentally countered, treading water and trying to revive her spirit. Kirsten splashed through the water behind her, so Lara dove again, heading to the left and deeper this time.

To her surprise, Kirsten followed. Lara felt the big woman’s looming presence in the dark water like a shark coming after her. About ten feet away and another two feet down, Lara spotted the edge of a round shape in the wall. The pass-through tunnel!

Knowing she didn’t have enough air to reach the opening and swim through it, however damn long it was, Lara surfaced again. She swam to the left, aiming to position herself parallel with the opening. Kirsten followed so close, her hands banged into Lara’s feet as they swam.

Lara dove for the underwater tunnel. As she reached the opening, nearly five feet across, long fingers wrapped around her right ankle and pulled her back. Lara kicked free, but Kirsten grabbed her hair. As Kirsten dragged her down, lights suddenly came on underwater.

Kirsten let go and Lara struggled to the surface, lungs burning with the need for oxygen. Her competitor surfaced too, a few feet closer to the center wall. Gulping air and treading water, Lara tried to assess her situation. Kirsten was bigger and a more powerful swimmer, and Lara no longer trusted her to compete fairly. She hoped the judges would disqualify her competitor, but they may not have seen the grab. Going into the underwater tunnel with Kirsten now seemed dangerous. She was screwed.

Lara watched as Kirsten dove underwater. She decided to follow at a safe distance and hope to make up the time in the next component, if there was one. As she started to dive, Lara heard a loud sucking sound. She quickly resurfaced and saw the right half of the wall disappear under the water. Holy shit. The viewers had given her a break.

Lara swam across the area where the thick barrier had been, wondering what would happen if the wall suddenly rose again. As she visualized it happening, she felt the water gush out from under her. The barrier surfaced, catching her prone as it shot into the air. She stayed down until the ride came to a stop. Now she was perched on top of the wall, ten feet in the air. She scrambled to her feet and sprinted a few yards across the top of the barrier before it could recede.

On the other side, more dark water stretched out in another hundred-foot section of the pit, but it looked like a straight swim. Just as she was about to jump, Kirsten bobbed to the surface on her left. Lara changed her mind and dove, knowing she would need every extra second.

She hit the water with a sting, but came up swimming. Her opponent was a few feet back, but gaining. Suddenly, rubber balls in all sizes bombarded her, riding the waves. Lara kept her head down, dodging what she could and letting the rest bounce off. She had no idea where Kirsten was or how far she was from the edge of the pit. Lara just kept stroking hard and wishing it to be over.

She broke through the last wave of balls and saw the edge. If a ladder existed to help her out, she didn’t see it and didn’t waste time looking. Lara reached up for the edge, a foot above the waterline, and hooked a few fingers over. She lifted herself enough to swing her other arm to the ledge. Years of painful pull-ups and hours at the rock climbing gym paid off and she hauled herself out of the water.

Lara glanced over to see Kirsten struggling, and failing, to climb out. She bolted for the door, and it opened with ease to let her through. On the other side, Minda and her camera crew were waiting to interview the winner.

Six and a half months earlier: Thurs., Nov. 17

Paul finished his VEx workout, which he’d added ten minutes to, then hurried to the bathroom to check his weight. Lilly followed, sensing his excitement. Paul stepped on the scale. Down another pound! The MetaboSlim diet pills he’d bought online were really working. He lifted his shirt and gazed at his bare stomach.

“Look at that, Lilly. My muscles are starting to show.” A shiver of pleasure surged through this torso. “Wait ’til I get my new nose to go with my new body. You won’t even recognize me.” Now that he had the money, he’d made an appointment and asked for the time off. He planned to buy several money orders to pay for the procedure. His own bank would never see the cash.

Another thought sent him scurrying for the shower. Tonight he would meet Camille for drinks. He’d gone ahead and bought a ticket to the Transitions fundraiser, so he’d have an excuse to dress up for Camille and somewhere to go after their date. He wanted Camille to think of him as a social man about town, someone she would want to be seen with. The banquet would also give him an opportunity to chat with Thaddeus Morton again. If he could arrange to get Camille on Morton’s replacement list, she’d be grateful and see him in a new way.

As Paul dressed for work, a dark thought threatened to ruin his mood. Today he also had to start his campaign to get Janel Roberts fired. He’d planned his strategy, but put it off because it was distasteful to him. Now it was time. Rathmore expected results, and Paul needed the rest of the money.

“You’re early today, Mr. Madsen.” The security guard nodded but didn’t call him aside.

“I’ve got some things to catch up on.” He tried to smile, but didn’t pull it off. It bothered him that she noticed he was early. Paul didn’t want anything about his behavior to attract attention. He’d come at seventy-thirty so he could hack into Janel Roberts’ message center on his own time, but not in his own workspace. He headed for the elevator, his oatmeal heavy in his stomach.

Paul slipped into the guest office on the second floor and used the NetCom to craft a text, which he’d thought about in detail and had memorized. The recipient was Janel Roberts’ boss-Jay Brewer, Director of Health and Human Services and a married man. The message was coded to read as though it had been sent from Janel’s message center. Paul used subtle language, but in essence the subtext said: I need more autonomy and I’m willing to have sex with you to get it. He scheduled the message to send later that morning and slipped back out into the empty hall. The phony text was just the first step. He had a more direct and dangerous mission planned for that evening.

Two meetings and a monthly maintenance purge of the payroll database kept Paul busy all day, and he managed to keep his personal plans out of his thoughts until quitting time. On the bus ride home, he fidgeted so much the older woman sitting next to him moved. What if Camille stood him up? She hadn’t mentioned their date when they’d brushed arms leaving the afternoon meeting. Paul let himself think about Camille because it was less nerve-wracking than dwelling on his plans for the middle of the night.

At home, he ate a quick microwave meal, showered again, and dressed in a dark gray suit with a maroon tie. Men’s business fashion hadn’t changed in a hundred years and that was fine with him. It was one less thing to screw up.

The hotel lounge was dark and quiet with soft seats and even softer music. Paul found a table near the entrance, so Camille would see him as she walked in. He ordered a gin and tonic, something his foster mother would drink, and tried to look casual.

At 6:40, Paul accepted that Camille wasn’t coming. He should have known. He downed half his drink and stood to leave for the banquet upstairs. As he reached for his IDB card, Camille walked up. She wore a slim-fitting dress that matched his maroon tie and her blonde hair was piled on top of her head, making her seem even taller. Her beauty soothed his crushed heart.

“Hi Paul. Sorry I’m late. There was a multiple shooting near Dupont Circle, and the police rerouted traffic. It was a nightmare.”