Once Upon A Wish : Book One (10 page)
Read Once Upon A Wish : Book One Online
Authors: Richard Poche
Tags: #noir, #noir crime, #hit men, #noir crime thriller, #drug cartel fiction, #edge of your seat thrillers, #gripping thriller, #hit man book, #hit man series
Hernan looked out the tinted window. Some
of the ducks had followed him to the car.
“Cisneros was part of a wide reaching
organization. He was just another node in the network but I bet if
you asked him about it he would say he was the center spoke.” Miss
Sosa laughed.
“We never talked shop,” Nestor said. “He
gave us jobs and we did them.”
Sosa nodded. “You do all the talking but he
does all the killing, correct?”
“I can pull a trigger when I have to,”
Nestor said.
She eyeballed Hernan as he stared dreamily
out of the window. “I know you can take care of yourself. But this
man,” Sosa pointed at Hernan,” is a killing machine. Funny because
most people wouldn't be able to tell from looking at you. But I
can. You remind me of a son I had. He looked like a choir boy but
when I gave him a job it was done with deadly precision.”
The old lady nodded and smiled at Hernan as
if he were a long lost grandson. The young man smiled back.
“Cisneros is out of the picture now. But
I'm wondering if you boys want to keep working?”
Hernan nodded his head, looking over at
Nestor.
“I'm listening.”
“Bigger money,” Sosa said taking an
envelope from her purse. “For bigger targets.”
She handed the envelope to Nestor. He
opened it up and took out a picture of Frank Nickles. The man he
saw on television.
“His name is Nickles,” Sosa hissed. “Goes
to a tanning salon every week and jogs every morning. I'll let you
pick which activity you think will be most convenient.”
Nestor looked at the picture of Nickles. A
handsome face made to get ahead in the world. Everything he
wasn't.
Sosa pointed at a suitcase on the side
panel of the vehicle. “That’s yours,” she smiled at Hernan.
Hernan laid the case across his legs and
opened it. Inside was a gold plated gun laid atop stacks of
money.
“That is how much killing this clown is
worth to me,” Sosa said. “I don't care how you do it as long as it
takes place in public. On a street or place of business. I don’t
want him shot in his bed. I want him face first in the dirt. I need
to send a message to anyone who wants to take his place. Do not
tread on Miss Sosa.”
Nestor noted that the lyrical quality to
Sosa’s voice did not match the intent of her message. She had the
voice of a sweet old lady even when she talked about killing
someone. It had a slow, measured quality and she would look at both
Nestor and Hernan to make sure they were listening.
She looked at them as if they mattered to
her.
Hernan handed the suitcase to Nestor. He
gulped hard as he saw the stacks of bills neatly sorted.
“Do we have an agreement?”
kissed it.
UPON A WISH”
of the ducks had followed him to the car.
“Cisneros was part of a wide reaching
organization. He was just another node in the network but I bet if
you asked him about it he would say he was the center spoke.” Miss
Sosa laughed.
“We never talked shop,” Nestor said. “He
gave us jobs and we did them.”
Sosa nodded. “You do all the talking but he
does all the killing, correct?”
“I can pull a trigger when I have to,”
Nestor said.
She eyeballed Hernan as he stared dreamily
out of the window. “I know you can take care of yourself. But this
man,” Sosa pointed at Hernan,” is a killing machine. Funny because
most people wouldn't be able to tell from looking at you. But I
can. You remind me of a son I had. He looked like a choir boy but
when I gave him a job it was done with deadly precision.”
The old lady nodded and smiled at Hernan as
if he were a long lost grandson. The young man smiled back.
“Cisneros is out of the picture now. But
I'm wondering if you boys want to keep working?”
Hernan nodded his head, looking over at
Nestor.
“I'm listening.”
“Bigger money,” Sosa said taking an
envelope from her purse. “For bigger targets.”
She handed the envelope to Nestor. He
opened it up and took out a picture of Frank Nickles. The man he
saw on television.
“His name is Nickles,” Sosa hissed. “Goes
to a tanning salon every week and jogs every morning. I'll let you
pick which activity you think will be most convenient.”
Nestor looked at the picture of Nickles. A
handsome face made to get ahead in the world. Everything he
wasn't.
Sosa pointed at a suitcase on the side
panel of the vehicle. “That’s yours,” she smiled at Hernan.
Hernan laid the case across his legs and
opened it. Inside was a gold plated gun laid atop stacks of
money.
“That is how much killing this clown is
worth to me,” Sosa said. “I don't care how you do it as long as it
takes place in public. On a street or place of business. I don’t
want him shot in his bed. I want him face first in the dirt. I need
to send a message to anyone who wants to take his place. Do not
tread on Miss Sosa.”
Nestor noted that the lyrical quality to
Sosa’s voice did not match the intent of her message. She had the
voice of a sweet old lady even when she talked about killing
someone. It had a slow, measured quality and she would look at both
Nestor and Hernan to make sure they were listening.
She looked at them as if they mattered to
her.
Hernan handed the suitcase to Nestor. He
gulped hard as he saw the stacks of bills neatly sorted.
“Do we have an agreement?”
“
It will be done,” Nestor
said.
kissed it.
UPON A WISH”
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