Marked

Marked

Jared stood smuggly on the platform at the doctor’s window. This was his favorite part - watching his marks notice their missing articles and his waving it as they are whisked to the next stop. He waited for the doctor to wake when they announced the stop for the second time...nothing. If he didn’t wake up soon, Jared would miss his chance. A minute later, the last call was announced and the doctor lay with his head pressed against the window, mouth open and eyes shut. Jared jumped back onto the train just as the doors were closing. He walked to the seat and kicked his foot as he pretended to sit - nothing. The train jerked violently and his mark fell over, lifeless. It was then that Jared noticed the small blushed area under the doctor’s right ear. “Tickets!” yelled the conductor as he walked down the aisle. Jared leaned over to see the puncture wound and sat back abruptly. This man wasn’t asleep - he was dead. “Tickets!” Not just dead - he was killed….murdered…..offed….. There was a murderer on this train and whoever it was murdered his mark. In all his years of lifting, Jared had never come across anything like this. The job was simple - get close, lift, gloat and leave. It kept him eating, clothed and sheltered for 4 years. This, however, was a completely different level of illegal. “Tickets!” He would have to make a run for it. He turned to dash to the restroom and stood eye to eye with the conductor. “Your ticket, sir.” Thinking quickly, he pulled the wallet and the little black Moleskine notebook he lifted from his pocket and opened them to reveal his mark’s ticket. “Dr. Worley?” Jared answered in the affirmative. “You seem a little young to be a doctor.” The conductor looked at him sideways. “I get that all the time. Sometimes it gets me out of meetings!” His laugh seemed too contrived, even for him, but he took back the ticket and stuffed it into the notebook and put it and the wallet in his pocket. The conductor’s eyes followed. He then asked about the “sleepy-head”. “My assistant - first time on a business trip and he can’t hack it. I may have to fire him. If it's all the same to you, I”ll not fish for his ticket in his pants pocket while he sleeps - seems suspiciously inappropriate.” The conductor gave an unsure nod but proceeded down the aisle.

Jared took two steps toward the restroom again only to find the most amazing-looking woman he’d ever seen coming drunkenly towards him.

“You look like the right guy to help me join the mile high club.”

Her french accent had him at her first words and her bedroom hazel eyes scanned his body as she spoke. Her melanin skin seemed to glow and her rack made him want to explore if those babies were real. She grabbed him by the collar.

“But we’re on a….”

She walked backwards towards the restroom and slammed him on the opposing wall. “...train…”

She laughed before french kissing him and pulling him into the restroom, locking the door. He couldn’t believe his luck. She pulled his face millimeters away from her lips.

“Listen up and listen good, hot-shot. You should have stayed off the train.”

His eyes readjusted and grew wide.

“Now, you’ve assumed my partner’s identity and compromised our position. Believe it or not, kid, you just signed up to be a spy.”

So….not luck.

“Oh, and the conductor is contacting his boss right now to tell him that you’re the mark and they killed the wrong guy.”

“What the…?” So….bad luck.

She let out a convincing sexual moan directed at the door. She turned to him again.

“The assignment is simple. Take the notes to the military ambassador’s office on the west bank of Jefferson Parish Boomtown Hotel and Casino. Order a rum and coke from the bartender and wait for someone to give you a key. Go to the hotel room after 6pm and be ready for the hand off.”

Jared’s head was spinning.

“What am I handing off? Where? Who’s giving me a key?”

“Listen, Junior… we don’t have much time.”

She began tapping the door with the heel of her foot.

“You need to get off of this train without getting killed, okay? West Bank, hotel, rum and coke, 6pm.”

She began to tap faster with her foot and let out a loud, breathy sigh towards the door. She then took out lipstick, applied it and began to kiss his face and neck and dishevel his shirt. She ripped the side of her dress to her hip and kicked the door faster.

“You ready?”

“Ready for what?!?”

What transpired was the greatest orgasm sounds he had never induced and a quick disheveling of the woman’s hair and smearing of her lipstick. So….worst luck ever.

“Open your fly.”

“Are you kidding me?!?!”

“Open it - when you leave zip it up so people can see you.”

“I don’t want people to see me….”

She unzipped him without ceremony and pushed the restroom door open with heavy breath and grabbed his collar again, pulling him out.

“That was amazing, doc - you can examine me anytime.”

She kissed him again and drunkenly walked towards the conductor.

“Do you guys have a smoking car? I need a cigarette.”

The conductor guided her out of the immediate car into the smoke car further down.

Jared looked to his right and saw an older couple - the woman asleep and the man giving him an enthusiastic thumbs up. As he looked around, knowing glances from the men and curious, embarrassed looks from the women reminded him to zip his pants. He made his way back to the seat and slumped. Holding his head in his hands, he tried to hold in all the information fed to him by the woman. That’s when he noticed the handcuffs this guy wore to an attached briefcase. That could be worth something. He looked around again to ensure the other passengers were distracted. Now, where would the stiff put the key? He checked the doctor’s shoes, his pants pockets, his vest and suit coat -nothing. He remembered a magic trick he and his friends played when they were little. He figured it couldn’t hurt to check….so he pretended to adjust his “assistant” to a comfortable position and swiped under his tongue with his finger. He didn’t know what was worse - the cool temperature of the body, the smell of decay from the open mouth of the corpse or the fact that the sticky saliva stuck to his finger in one long strand as he retrieved the key. He was traumatized, for sure. Nevertheless, he used the key and unlatched the cold, stiff hand. The doctor didn’t seem to have any other possessions, so Jared locked the suitcase on his wrist, planted the key in his vest and planned his exit.

He looked up just in time to see his make-out partner being forced to an open door of the train. She looked straight in his eyes and screamed one word. He couldn’t hear it, but he knew what it was. “Run.” Two seconds later, he saw her body from the doctor’s window, rolling down an embankment. He turned to run towards the door, but instead, looked straight down the barrel of a glock. The old woman beside the man was wide awake now. He turned his eyes to see the older gentleman lying unconscious.

“I believe you have something we want, sonny.”

He turned to go the other direction and saw the conductor along with the guy who threw his partner out the door.

“Doris, get the briefcase, I’ll be taking the wallet and notebook, whoever you are.”

Before he could do anything, a man sitting behind the conductor and his colleague jumped up and knocked the larger man unconscious with another glock.

“You’re gonna have to jump.” he said, fist-fighting the conductor, but directing his words to the young man.

Jared bum-rushed the older woman, pushing the gun in the air and running towards the door of the train. He knew he would never jump if he thought about it, so he didn’t. Launching himself out, he closed his eyes and braced for impact. He was punched by rocks and slapped by twigs but otherwise, he was still alive. It was a miracle and the most adventurous thing he’d ever done. He guessed the guy who fought back was with his partner. West bank hotel…..rum and coke….6pm. Instructions rolled around in his head as he got up and started walking.

By the time he arrived at the hotel, the blood had dried on his torn clothes, his wrist hurt from the suitcase and he smelled from sweat. He went to the bar and ordered a gin and tonic. Then, he visited the restroom to tidy himself. An older, heavy-set gentleman walked in, looked at Jared, laughed and said, “Tough day at the office? I get it. Ever since my old lady found out the number to my direct line, she won’t stop callin’!” Jared humored him with a chuckle, wished him luck and returned to the bar. Less than a minute later, the gentleman found him again and asked the bartender for a martini “and put this guy’s drink on my tab, will ya?” The bartender made the drink and came to take Jared’s order. “What’ll it be?” Jared looked at the prominent clock above the bar: 4:35pm. “Gimme a rum and coke.” The drink came along with a key card for room 349. Jared considered for a moment how much he could use a shower and shave. He decided to use early access to the room. Inside, he unlocked the suitcase from his wrist, stripped, and used the shower. He wrapped himself in the complimentary robe and shaved after calling down to room service for his clothes. While he waited, he lay down on the bed. The knock on the door aroused him from his nap. “Room service.” Panicked, he looked at the clock - 5:45pm. After checking the peephole, he opened the door for the tiny woman holding his freshly cleaned and sewed clothes. “You can just put ‘em on the…” he turned around to see yet another glock pointed straight at his head. Would he ever learn?

“We appreciate you bringing what we need so conveniently, but we’ve got it from here.”

“Who are you guys?!?”

“ Congratulations, Jared. You just handed over one of the deadliest weapons known to man to the worst enemy of the United States of America.”

“Russia?”

“Idiot. The worst enemy of the United States is the United States - we’re already here, and domestic terrorism is big business, if you haven’t been keeping up. Hand over the key.”

Jared went to the bed, but turned and tried to wrestle the gun from the woman. It didn’t work. He should have known she’d been trained in martial arts - aren’t all the bad guys in movies these days?

“Goodbye, Jared.”

Seconds away from the woman pulling the trigger, the door slammed open and his french partner shot point blank.

“Oh my god, you’re alive!”

“And you’re early. Did you really think this was a good idea?!?”

“So who are you guys?”

“United Nations Secret Service.”

“They have that?”

“Yeah, they have that.”

“So I just saved the world, right?”

“Jared, you almost gave an electronically triggered biological weapon to a domestic terrorism organization and got yourself killed in the process - I saved the world.”

“Yeah, but with some training, maybe he can save the world another day.”

The older, heavy-set gentleman stood in the doorway.

“Seriously, Wyatt?”

“Why not, Regina? What do you think, Jared? Want to be a spy? Pay was $20,000 for this job...”

Granted, it was an embarrassing beginning, but the rest of the story is classified.