Read Online Raymond Benson - 2012 - Hitman: Damnation by Raymond Benson - Free Book Online Page B

dehydrated. Kind of ironic,
isn’t it? Being dehydrated in the middle of the ocean?”
                 The
assassin didn’t respond.
                 The
doctor indicated the stethoscope around his neck. “May I check your vitals?”
Not waiting for an answer, the man leaned in to listen to 47 breathe. The
assassin didn’t protest.
                 “Your
lungs are clear.” The doctor nodded to the nurse, who wrapped a cuff around
47’s left arm to take his blood pressure. She pumped it up and then let it
deflate.
                 “One
eighteen over seventy-eight,” she said.
                 “That’s
very good,” the doctor commented. “I’ll bet you’re thirsty and hungry. Nurse
Parkins here will get you some juice and something to eat. Get some rest.
You’ve had a rough time.”
                 The
nurse quickly left the cabin. The doctor waited for 47 to say something; when
the patient didn’t, the man turned to leave. He paused at the curved hatch, turned,
and replied to the unasked question.
                 “All
will be explained shortly.”
                 And
then he left.
                 It
was only then that Agent 47 noticed the embossed insignia on the IV drip bag.
It was triangular; a skull and crossbones topped by a crown was inside the pyramid,
the Latin phrase Merces Letifer scrolled across the bottom.
                 “Lethal trade.”
                 The emblem of the ICA.
                 The Agency.
                 After
a meal of scrambled eggs, toast, and orange juice, Agent 47 felt his strength
returning. He wanted to jump out of bed and find out what was going on. Given
that he was on a ship, he figured it was the Jean Danjou II, the Agency’s superyacht . What else could it be?
                 The
prospect that the ICA had found him was disturbing. 47 had wanted to remain
hidden. The assassin had hoped that, if he ever decided to reconnect with the
Agency, it would be on his terms.
                 The
familiar unpleasant fireball of anxiety suddenly grew in his chest. How long
had it been since he’d taken an oxycodone pill? The
withdrawal symptoms would soon hit him full force. Where was his briefcase? His clothes? His painkillers?
                 Before
he could attempt to get out of bed, an attractive Asian woman, wearing a
business suit and carrying a notepad, entered the cabin.
                 “Good
morning, Agent 47,” she said without a trace of an accent. “My name is Jade.
I’m a senior assistant to the management team of ICA. I take it you’ve already
discerned that’s who we are?”
                 47
stared at her for several seconds and then nodded.
                 “I
suppose you have a lot of questions. Mr. Travis will be here shortly to talk to
you. He will be your new handler.”
                 The
assassin spoke for the first time since he’d been revived. “I don’t work for
the Agency anymore.”
                 Jade
acknowledged the remark with a bow of her head. “Mr. Travis will speak to you
about that. In the meantime, I am authorized to tell you that you are on the
Jean Danjou II, and we were—”
                 “I
know that.”
                 “—we
were sailing in the Atlantic, quite near the Caribbean. We have been searching
for you for many months. Your last employer, the man you knew as Roget, alerted
us—for a price—that his plane was leaving Jamaica with you on it.”
                 “There
was no pilot aboard.”
                 “We
had Roget install the remote so we could land the aircraft safely on the water.
Unfortunately, the storm hit and an engine failed. Apparently you damaged the
remote-control box, and we were unable to help you. Luckily, we were in your
vicinity when the jet went down, but it