Thursday, July 28, 2011

Notes from a dream, part one

The beginning of a story:
A phone conversation.
"Any fool with a disregard for his life and liberty can kill someone. If you care about keeping both, and I do, you must exercise control: control of the time, control of the place, control of the people. The Israeli assassination in Dubai used 18 agents to kill one man: to control the approach to the hotel, to keep the corridor outside the room he was killed in clear, to drug and overpower him, and to get away, and they were still caught on camera, identified entering the country, and warrants issued for their arrest which will dog them the rest of their lives.

"That's why the itinerary of the worlds most powerful people are so important secrets: President of the United States, the most wealthy men and women in the world. The men who defend these people will not let you have control of the situation or the surroundings because they know this is how you kill them. The man you have described... his head of security is with him 24 hours a day, sleeps in the same room if he sleeps at all, is both his chief food taster, as well as his brother. This man will be hard to kill."
The end of the story:
A beautiful tropical beach at night. A Hawaiian band plays, while three men sitting barefoot in the sand eat and drink. One stands up and starts pacing, gesticulating. He briefly places his hand on the head of the second, and the third leaps up and clutches him by the throat. The middle man jumps to the defense of the first, grabbing his brother by the arms and the two men end up rolling in the sand, fighting like they fought as children many years ago.
The older brother ends up on top, snarling: "Forgive him. He is a genius."
Two, silenced gunshots.
The first man: "I am a genius. A genius at killing."
The waiter cleans down and throws the gun into the surf, the band drops their instruments, and pre-recorded music echos out across the bay to the waiting yacht.

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