Trained To Kill

Trained to Kill

By: Emily Marie

Trained to Kill

Published by Emily Marie at
Smashwords

Copyright 2015 Emily
Marie

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Table of
Contents

Prologue

Chapter 1

Look for Upcoming
Book

About the
Author

Prologue

She was cold and alone. The blood drained from
her body like a leaky faucet. She was happy to die here on the
ground next to her. She had nothing to live for now anyway. The
darkness came and she surrendered.

Chapter 1

She watched him through the coffee
shop window on Cullum St.

Thomas Riley was standing across the
street from the tiny, packed coffee shop where Isadora sat in her
too large sunglasses and nursed her espresso. The sunglasses may
have been unnecessary on this rainy Monday afternoon, but she wore
them in case he saw her and recognized her.

He had spent enough time staring into
her face while she was tied up, it should be easy for him to
recognize her. But, she took precautions even when they seemed
silly. She was a survivor. Of course it had been nine years since
he saw her. Perhaps he had forgotten? In any case, she would remind
him before the end.

Riley and his colleague were standing
under an awning out of the rain, smoking and talking animatedly
about rugby. The bug she had planted on Riley the week before let
her hear that. She had already gone through and bugged his
extravagant condo in Chelsea.

He worked down the street at
Investments and Retirement LLC., and he and his colleague had
walked down to grab lunch. Isa had been following him for a month
trying to learn his routine. This was new. Usually he ate lunch on
his office sofa while watching TV.

She continued to stare at Riley,
taking in his $2,000 suit and silk tie. The ring he wore on his
pinky was diamond and platinum. His mousy brown hair was expertly,
and expensively, cut to hide its thinning on top. He had done well
in the market.

Riley must have felt her gaze because
he suddenly looked up and across the street, straight at her. She
lowered her gaze and turned her head slightly to the right and took
a drink. Getting up and running out would have been like waving a
red flag around. This was why the huge sunglasses. He turned back
to his friend and continued their conversation.

The rain had eased a bit so the men
started on their way back to the office. After a moment, Isa got up
and discreetly followed. She didn’t expect any surprises; she just
wanted to get a feel for him and his habits. She needed to know the
best time and place to talk to him and kill him.

After he had gone back in his
building, Isa headed home. She continued to listen to him with half
an ear, but his business dealings were of no interest to her. But
information of any kind was useful. She walked around for a few
hours in the rain with her umbrella, getting used to the city. She
had been here for about two months now. She wasn’t one to rush
things, and Riley deserved her full attention.

He hadn’t stopped his deviant
behavior, but instead of using 16 year old girls, he was paying for
the privilege to tie-up and strangle women. He hadn’t killed any of
them yet, as far as she knew. The prostitutes in Soho didn’t seem
to mind as long as he paid them well enough.

She headed to where her small
apartment was tucked away, semi-close to Riley’s in Chelsea, taking
in the sights and sounds. London agreed with her. Moving to New
York had been her way of starting over somewhere with a permanent
address, but it was such a stressed out and busy city. She was used
to the laid back attitude of the South in New Orleans. London,
while still stressful at times, had a nice feel to it.

Isa walked into her tiny apartment and
took off her overcoat. Throwing her scarf and sunglasses on the
table, she fell face first on the bed and lay there, thinking, for
a long time.

This apartment was a throw away. She
could leave at any time if she found herself in a tight spot and
needed to leave London quickly. There was nothing of her true
identity attached to it. Isadora La Beau was staying at a much
nicer apartment in Westminster near her father, Maximilian La Beau.
Cassidy Jones was staying in this miniscule, one-room flat in a
house in Chelsea. Everything Isa needed was in her back-pack,
should she need to leave suddenly.

Her father was an extremely busy
barrister who spent 12 hours a day at Parliament and in his office.
Isa only saw him when he had time for dinner a few times a week, so
she wasn’t worried he would realize she wasn’t staying in
Westminster every night.

Isa rolled over and placed her hands
behind her head, still thinking about Riley. The best place to kill
him would be his condo, but the security there was heavy. Although
the security was heavy everywhere in London. Perhaps it would be
better to get him down to the river in a dark part of town. She
would start looking for abandoned buildings tonight.

Thomas Riley had two more months to
live. Too bad he didn’t know it.

Chapter 2

Three months later

Alex scanned the room with his dark
brown eyes. His boots crunched on broken glass.

He swung to his right, pivoted and
back-kicked the man trying to bash his skull in. The man went
flying against the wall, he whipped around and throat punched the
mammoth who had recovered, a little too fast for Alex’s comfort.
Need to take him down. He followed with a kick to the jaw that had
the man fall over like a felled tree. He stopped to catch his
breath and take stock of what was left. He was bleeding from his
eyebrow. One man left standing next to Malone's chair, he looked
like trouble. Alex knew he had a gun under the fine tailored suit
jacket. The boss looked mildly concerned. Alex took a breath and
straightened out his leather jacket.

“
So, let me guess I’m
fired right?”

“
Hey, Jax don't take it
personal," Tyler Malone smirked at him and Alex wanted to smash his
fist in his fat face. "When a cop comes in looking for trouble,
there's no other way to do it."

“
Malone, you’re as dumb as
you are ugly,” Alex said.

A split second later, half a dozen men
in SWAT gear came crashing through the door, their semi-automatic
weapons searching for a target. Malone's men didn't have the
hardware with them to beat a SWAT team. One by one they knelt on
the floor, putting their hands behind their heads.

“
Tyler Malone, you’re
under arrest for Prostitution and Drug Smuggling.” Alex continued
Mirandizing him, while snapping on handcuffs,
non-too-gently.

“
Fucking cops,” Malone
screamed while being pushed through the door followed by his
men.

“
Thanks guys,” Alex nodded
to the Swat team. “I’ll meet him at the station.”

“
Jax,” the Swat team
leader Henry came up to him nodding back. “Next time maybe try not
to blow your cover.”

“
Yeah, I heard one of the
hookers knew you from a previous engagement,” Johnson
laughed.

“
Yeah, tell your mom I
said thanks a lot.” With that parting shot Alex walked out of the
messy bar while the men around the room laughed.

Climbing into his car, Alex dabbed at
his forehead with his first-aid kit. He knew from experience he
didn't need stitches for the wound. His was a little sore from
being picked-up by the neck and slammed against the wall, but he
could swallow and talk just fine. He didn't need to go the
hospital. Throwing the kit back in the glove box, he put the car in
gear.

Alex thought about the countless bar
brawls over the years as he made his way downtown to where Malone
was waiting to be questioned. He had been a mean little shit. His
father had seen to that, with a backhand to the side of the head if
he hadn’t come home by dark.

Still, he loved his father and his
three siblings. His Dad had been a hard ass and a hard worker, and
loved his kids with everything he had. But, Alex had rebelled at an
early age. He had gotten his first tattoo at the age of 13. His
father had lost it but Alex hadn’t cared, thinking he paid his
price for the free tattoo in a busted lip. His father hadn’t beaten
him, he had gotten into a fight with his brothers after his father
had grounded him for the rest of his natural life. The rest of his
tattoos came as he grew up into a mean big shit.

A little more discipline came with a
short stint in the marines. Then came the police academy. Everyone
who knew him thought he had gone insane. At first it had been touch
and go with discipline problems, then he had met Captain Able
Williams, Sergeant Williams then, and he had taken him under his
wing, teaching him how to control his anger and direct it toward
the low life’s that hurt the innocent.

He glanced out the window at the
lights on a cab flashing by on its way to God knew where at 2:30 am
in New York City. The City That Never Sleeps. Well they got that
part right, he thought, lighting a cigarette and rolling down the
window, he certainly never slept. The cold February air coming
through the window didn’t penetrate his thoughts, he was used to
it.

He had grown up in Brooklyn with his
brothers Matt and Brian, and their baby sister, Coleen. Just them
and their Dad. Their mom had died when Alex was two so he didn’t
remember her. She had been on a bus when it had slammed into a
street light. Not many were injured, but she had been sitting at
the wrong angle and hit her head on the glass. She had been in a
coma for a week before she passed.

Their father, Mike, had done all he
could for the boys but it had been hard working full-time with four
kids to raise, paying off hospital bills and a mortgage. They had
pretty much been on their own with the oldest, Brian, taking care
of the youngest as well as he could.

Their Aunt Marie would come over every
week to help clean up and try to knock some sense into a house
dominated by males, to keep the place clean. It had some effect.
Alex kept his apartment pretty neat. Not that it was hard, it was
barely bigger than a closet and he wasn’t there much.

He pulled into the police garage and
cut the engine, stubbing out the cigarette in the car ash tray. His
mind no longer on his troubled youth, he was working out his
technique to break Malone. He snagged an elevator and rode up to
the Narcotics Division and sat heavily in his chair. Riviera looked
over at him in surprise.

“
What are you doin’ here?”
he whined in his Jersey accent.

“
Cover was blown,” Alex
said and that ended the discussion.

Riviera shook his head in sympathy and
turned back to his computer and his paperwork. Alex didn’t even
want to look at the pile of 10's on his desk. The paperwork on this
would take a fucking miracle to finish. He thought about his friend
Jimmy Simon from High School and how he would get him to work on
his English papers in exchange for double dates with whatever
girlfriend Alex happened to be hanging out with that week. He
suddenly missed Jimmy.

“
You want some coffee,”
Riviera asked, rising from his chair.

“
Yeah sure, thanks,” Alex
said absently. He scrubbed at his short brown hair that was going
shaggy on the top, mostly shaved at the sides. He needed a
cut.

He rotated his neck trying to work out
the kinks that Mammoth had put there slamming him against the wall.
He was in a stretcher to the hospital last Alex saw with a couple
Swat babysitters. He needed to follow up there.

He made some phone calls and started
on his report, waiting for Malone to be finished with Booking and
taken to an interrogation room. He propped his boots up on his desk
which pretty much took up the whole thing; he had long legs on his
6’1” frame. He was on his third cup of coffee and needed a
cigarette, but it would have to wait. He had to get
started.