Hitman's Creed - 2

 

Glenn turned off the main road onto a narrow one that wandered willy-nilly toward the low hills in the distance. Two miles farther on, he made another turn into the lane that lead to his house. Every time he thought my house, he couldn't help the small smile that lit his usually serious face.

It had taken him almost a year to find this place after he'd decided to pull a vanishing act to get away from his life as he'd known it. Most of that time was spent erasing his tracks so that none of his former associates could find him. Not that there were that many to erase. He had lived for so long under radar that there was no real information about him per se, just as there was none about the anonymous hitman he had been. Nothing anyway that could have connected the hitman to himself. If there had been, he'd have been sitting in a federal penitentiary.

His new identity was in truth his original one with a few alterations, thus his birth certificate and social security number were totally legitimate. He had however used the one contact he absolutely trusted, the woman who had set up his email account, to go in and alter enough information in the government files so the Glenn Tanner he was now could not be associated with the Glenn Tanner he had been before his parents died. With literally hundreds of men with his name around the world, it would take an extremely dedicated enemy to pin it down to the man who now owned this house in a small town somewhere between New York City and Los Angeles.

The sun was low on the horizon as he pulled into the garage behind the house. There was a nip in the air that presaged the coming winter and he shivered a bit as he walked to the back door and into a small mudroom. After he'd hung his jacket on one of the pegs along the wall he went into the kitchen. It was old, with white-washed walls and dark wood trim, much like the rest of the rooms in the house. He knew some day in the future he'd probably redecorate but, at the moment, just knowing the place was his made him love every inch of it, flaws and all.

He took a bottle of water from the refrigerator, walked into the living room, turned on the television and sat down to watch the news. He cracked a tight smile when the talking head reported on the death of a noted businessman eight-hundred miles across the country from where he was now. He'd been offered the job to take the man out six months ago, before he'd made the final break with his last contact. Apparently the need to get it done ASAP lost its urgency or his contact had a difficult time finding someone willing to do it. Considering who the target had been the latter was very possible.

With the news over, Glenn flipped off the TV and went to fix some supper. When he finished he returned to the living room, a glass of whiskey in one hand, a lit cigarette in the other. He put the glass down on the table beside his favorite chair, picked up the book that sat there, and settled down to read.