Kill on Command

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Authors: Slaton Smith
Tags: Fiction, Suspense, Thrillers, Espionage, Retail
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out.  You on something?”  She asked, as she leaned on the counter. Sean kept folding the eggs.
     
    “Good morning to you too, Stacy,” Sean said.  “I prefer to think of it as hard work.  I also would prefer it if you two would stop asking me if I am on something.”  He turned towards her, opened the dishwasher and pulled two clean plates out.  One for him and one for Bailey.  He scraped the eggs onto two plates.  Stacy looked at the eggs.  He turned off the burner.
     
    “Sorry, Sean I don’t have time to eat,” Stacy said with a fake smile.  He retuned the fake smile as he put one of the plates on the floor.
     
    “They aren’t for you,” he said, taking a bite of his eggs and smirking.  Bailey continued to ignore her and consumed the eggs in an instant.
     
    “I don’t care what Brian thinks of you.  You’re still an asshole.  I’m glad Michelle broke up with you.”  She turned and walked out the kitchen door.  Sean locked the door behind her.
     
    “Bailey, I don’t think she likes us.”
     
    Sean cleaned up the kitchen and went back upstairs.  Brian was still asleep.  He could hear him sawing logs from the hall.  Sean entered his own room, put on a t-shirt and sweatshirt and leaned on the bed to put on socks and running shoes.  Bailey lay on the rug, watching.
     
    “Want to go for a walk?”  Bailey jumped up and started bouncing.  She charged downstairs towards her leash.  Sean started for the stairs and was halfway down when he heard Brian in the hall.
     
    “Where are you going?  Where’s your friend?” he asked in a half sleepy, half hung-over voice.
     
    “Downstairs.” 
     
    “You lucky dog.  She is super hot.  Stacy hated her!” Brian said, not knowing Jennifer was assaulted on the front porch and was getting the hell out of Pittsburgh at that very moment.
     
    “Go back to bed.  I am going running.  I’ll be back in time for the game.” 
     
    “What the hell is he talking about?” Sean thought
     
    “Really?  Take it easy.  You’ll get to run plenty today,” Brian replied.
     
    “Don’t worry.  I’ll be fine.”  Sean bounded down the remaining stairs and grabbed Bailey’s leash.  He stuffed $5 in his shorts and went out the front door.  Brian’s Charger was parked midway up the drive.  He loved having it parked there.  “Keeps bad people away,” he thought.
     
    “You ready to run?” he asked Bailey and they both took off full speed.
     
    Across the street, Sandy already had her shoes laced up.  Standing up quickly, she suddenly felt sick.  She made it to the bathroom and threw up most of the last night’s meal.  She flushed the toilet, swished some mouthwash and got going.  She didn’t have time to feel sorry for herself.
     
    Leaning in the corner of Sandy’s living room was a red Cannondale mountain bike.  She had given up trying to keep up with Sean on foot.  The bike was better.  The pack attached to the seat also was a great place to keep her gun.  The iPhone attached to the handlebars nicely. She popped the bike up on its rear wheel and rolled it down the stairs.  She opened the door to see Sean and the dog running up St. James.  She was still wearing her tights and sweatshirt.  She figured the redhead was dead after last night.  She stayed blonde.  She put on a pair of sunglasses and hopped on the bike.
     
    Sean ran to the edge of Fifth Avenue and turned right.  He sprinted down Fifth heading towards the University of Pittsburgh.  He went flat out.  Bailey was at a full sprint.  His legs and lungs were burning. Behind him, Sandy worked on keeping up and not getting run over.  He passed Central Catholic High School and kept going until he hit the Pittsburgh Athletic Club.  He stopped and crossed the five or so lanes of Fifth and ran through the fields in front of the Cathedral of Learning.  Bailey kept pace.  Bill and Bob did not have as much luck.  The one-way streets were giving them fits. 

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