Bad Vespers

A good assassin is not squeamish. He does his work and that’s enough, particularly if he does it right and there is no opportunity for a come back. If he doesn’t, the all proverbial Murphy’s Rule kicks in and “shit happens.” In the measure of the assignment when you raise to the ranks of the truly accomplished killer, there are certain privileges. The primary one is deciding the rules of the killing game. The assassin had long since developed a sharp menu in this area of what really becomes self-protection. The real assassin is not discriminatory. He kills the good, the bad, and the ugly. It doesn’t matter. He kills women and children. Indeed, he kills any nature of man for whim he thinks it’s justified which becomes a test of the character of the assassin himself. In making his rules as a much younger killer, the assassin read the history of mankind and thereby principally its wars and palace intrigues. He had often pondered how after the death of Caesar, Mark Antony had sought replacement so successfully with Cleopatra. What Caesar knew and Antony ignored was that she was already an established assassin refusing to share the thrown of Egypt with either her younger brother or sister as the reagents required because none of them were adults and the power struggle had not resolved itself. Except to place her on the thrown itself, Caesar failed to remove the competition of Cleopatra’s siblings regardless f how she begged for their death. Dead only a few years later in 44 B.C., Mark Antony became Cleopatra’s savior and in exchange for her bedroom loyalty and as ruler of Egypt he dispatches her slightly younger sister to a monastery beyond Egypt known for its sanctity in protecting the rich. Shortly thereafter, she is assassinated as final interference of Mark Antony and the vindication of Cleopatra brayings for her death at any cost. The assassins have emerged! Gender is unimportant. Together they seek to overthrow Rome and the appeasement of each other’s desire, twelve years later when unsuccessful, in a suicide pact. The wisdom of it touched the assassination. Killing for political reasons was always a respectful good idea. It was the suicide part that was fetted. He could never reconcile why a killer of talent would attempt self-harm. Better to kill those who are bothering you or who suggested drag you down into the depth of such a devil’s agreement. He would rather be shot dead by others that do it himself. Even to think of it seriously he regards as a sign of mental weakness and likely disease. He had never had such thoughts but only repulsion for the concept and knew that if ever suggested to him he would kill the person from whose lips it fell and not politely. His own rules were such that he found them completely non negotiable. He did not do torture. He did not steal art or papers. He killed. This was enough. It is what you paid for and what you got. If you wanted more than death in your pound of flesh he was not your boy. “Do it yourself” was his never varying reply. He was never challenged. He wasn’t often turned down but oddly he was never offered more. In earlier days it caused him to question why. Years later he came to understand it better. They had seen him face to face and he had seen them. They were not weak people but invariably rich, self-assured, and usually powerful in their own arena of life. Nor were they stupid or uninformed about his reputation. You did not find him in the Yellow Pages or Soldier of Fortune. Like the best lawyers it was by word of mouth. He did not do torture. He did not steal art or papers. He killed. This was enough. It is what you paid for and what you got. If you wanted more than death in your pound of flesh he was not your boy. “Do it yourself” was his never varying reply. He was never challenged. He wasn’t often turned down, but oddly he was never offered more. In earlier days it caused him to question why. Years later he came to understand it better. They had seen him face to face and he had seen them. They were not weak people but invariably rich, self-assured, and usually powerful in their own arena of life. Nor were they stupid or uninformed about his reputation. You did not find him in the Yellow Pages or Soldier of Fortune. Like the best lawyers it was word of mouth. They knew he was a stone cold killer. Nothing existed to argue about. It was “his way only or the highway” and back to the drawing board to find another willing to draw it out and give you the video of torture before demise. Not too many real clients wanted to do that once they knew they could get the best even if it was on his terms only. Indeed, he knew it! He wasn’t stupid either. It wasn’t a sale technique. It was the bold truth. Nothing more and nothing less. He killed for you if you convinced him why to do it. Everybody else just took the money and could care less. This alone helped the client know he was the best and that he too was at least as clever as they believed that they were also. It created a special bonding in the otherwise murkey world of assassination. Both client and killer believed in the cause for death and now only death alone. Indeed this truth to the sophisticated client proved to be its own best just reward. “It shall be done” and for the merit alone of the reasons stated. The bond was sealed!