Rain

Rain

The sound of rain on the windshield wakes me from my sleep, I look at my wrist watch it’s thirty minutes past nine at night. I clear my throat and bring my seat forward with a pull to the lever. I look around me, the streets deserted not a soul in sight. I look to my right there in the passenger seat lays my m-9 semi-automatic handgun with its suppressor. A file under it, I have yet to view who my next job is, I grab the gun put it in the glovebox and grab the file and open it in my lap, the description reads; “Rain Quinn 24, Calgary Police Officer, detective. Single. Clean exit wounds.” 

A black Ford Explorer zooms by as soon as I finish reading her description, I look at the plate numbers and memorize them instinctively, a habit I’ve had since my father began training me. He was a hit-man as well, Igor Petrovich, trained in the military then started taking up side jobs, when I was old enough to hold a firearm he began teaching me all he knew. 

Now here I am, on another job sitting in my car, in the rain, waiting. That’s most of the work to do here, patience. I don’t have much, but I’m good at what I do and no one ever suspects a pretty face. I look back down at Rain’s file, her car’s listed there as well, “Black For Explorer, gotcha.” I glance at her picture once more, she has read hair down to her shoulders bangs swept to the side, and a sharp jawline. “Such a pretty face.” I start up my car, and turn to follow the way in which the Explorer drove in, not even a mile down I spot the same car once more and make note of the address, “Nice pad Rain.” I continue on the road and start my drive home while scouting the area for potential places to set camp for later tonight. 

BAM!
           “What the?” I look at my rear view mirror nothing, I feel the steering wheel pull at my hands, flat. I pull off to the curb, park my car and get out. “Dammit.” My tires blown, I go back to my car and open up the trunk and take out the spare. I look around to see if theres anyone out, the rain calms down, I roll the tire to the side of the car and go back to the trunk to get the jack and a wrench. I look around me again, no one. Good. I go back to the side and start hoisting up the car. I hear steps, I pop my head up again and see someone jogging towards me on the sidewalk. I get back to work.

“Hey! You okay?” I hear a voice from the other side of my car, I look up, its Rain.

I clear my throat and put down the wrench, and get up, “I’m fine.” She’s even prettier in person, such a shame. 

“Quite a flat you got there, need help?” She walks over to my side and gets down to examine the damage, “Well at least the rim’s not busted. That’s always a good thing. Here let me give you a hand.” She picks up the wrench and continues loosening the lug nuts. “My father used to own a tire shop when I was little, taught me all I know.” 

“Mine too.” I say, staring at her arms, “Aren’t you cold?” I say pointing at her bare arms, “It’s raining you know.” 

“This is nothin’ back home in Raincouver this would be considered a drizzle.” she says with a wink. 

So she’s not from here, “Your dad had a tire shop too?” she asks bringing me out of my thoughts. 

“What? No.” 

“But you said ‘mine too’ after I said my dad had a tire shop when I was little.” 

“Oh no, I meant he taught me all he knew.” I respond pulling out the tire and start rolling it to the side to replace it with the spare.

“Gotcha. Well, I’m Rain. Nice to meet you.” she says as she gets up and puts her hand out.

I look at her arms, she’s quite muscular well then again most cops are. “Natasha, my pleasure. Thank you, you’re strong.” I respond my hand lingering on hers as she smiles and is that a blush creeping up her neck? 

She smiles and pulls her hand back, “uh got I got that.” she takes the spare from me and begins placing it back on the car. “Do you live near by Natasha?” 

“Don’t make conversation, it’ll make it harder to complete the job.” I hear my fathers voice in the back of my mind, “No, I’m just visiting on business.” I respond, looking back into my car, “the gun’s just inside that glove box she’s vulnerable right here.” I hear my father’s voice again.

“Oh. Well welcome to Calgary.” She says, picking up the wrench again and starts putting the lug nuts back in their place.

“Yeah, thanks.” I walk to the passenger side of the car, and pull out the gun cock it and put in the holster inside my jacket. I walk back to the driver’s side, she’s gone. I then hear the trunk slam shut.

I immediately place my hand on the trigger of the gun, “Rain?” 

“Would you like to accompany for a cup of coffee?” I hear her whisper in my hear, I immediately turn and am met with her face right in front of mine with a smile on. 

I move the gun and aim it from inside my jacket to her chest, “No thank you.” Click. 

Her smile fades and she falls on me. Click. 

“I don’t drink coffee.”