So Long, Farewell, Adieu...

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A S/Sgt. Janer Tale

Chapter 1 - The Appointment

"So... what is it that you want to speak to me about?" He seemed every bit the perfect businessman - from his simple and tidy flat-top hair, a touch of grey at the temples, to his charcoal grey pinstripe morning suit and diamond studded cufflinks. Konrad Herczeg was a man who looked more than capable of overseeing a hostile takeover in the morning, laying off five thousand employees in the afternoon, divorcing his terminally ill wife in the evening and then still sleeping peacefully that night. Right now, however, he was more scared than he could ever recall being. He'd faced men with guns, knives and lengths of two-by-four before now, run guns through Soviet-controlled lands and always felt less afraid than he did sitting behind his desk and talking to the pleasant-looking and relaxed young lady who was resting her gloved hands on the back of the chair across from him. Not that he was showing it, of course. No, to the outward observer he was calm, composed and fully in control of the situation. Maybe the line of sweat trickling down past his left ear was the fault of the irksome air-conditioning in the building and perhaps the faint, barely noticeable throbbing at his temples and throat were due to a brisk jog up the several flights of stairs to his lushly furnished office. Looking even more relaxed and apparently not bothered by any air-conditioning issues, the office's other occupant smiled in a warm, pleasant and vaguely terrifying manner. To Konrad it seemed too much like the last sight an unfortunate wanderer might see in the Indian jungles as three hundred pounds of orange and black striped death leapt towards them.

"My resignation and retirement, Mr. Herczeg. After much deliberation and consideration I've decided to hand my notice in, with immediate effect." Her teeth retreated behind her lips as the smile faded and the jeans, t-shirt and plain black leather jacket clad woman lightly placed a brushed aluminium attaché case on Herczeg's vast and paperwork-free desk. The suited businessman tried very hard not to flinch and nearly succeeded. "In here are my company expenses card, the keys to my Manhattan apartment and also my company car keys. You'll also find fifty thousand dollars in cash as compensation for early severance of my contract. If the fee seems too small then I'm open to negotiation. Lastly, there's a signed statement by myself proclaiming that I am fully retiring from the profession and will not be taking on any contract work with competitors." Herczeg looked to the case, pale blues eyes slowly moving over its clasps and handle before returning to his ex-employee. He'd have his assistant open it later. Or rather, his new assistant, after he promoted one.

"I see. You could have just made an appointment so see me, you know. And why, pray tell, did you feel you had to kill two of my bodyguards and my secretary to tell me this, Ms. Janer?" She looked back over her shoulder, half-turning to regard the three slowly cooling corpses that lay sprawled on the thick, expensive and now-ruined carpet of Herczeg's office. One guard appeared to be attempting to look at his own shoulder-blade; his neck at an angle that explained his transition from is to was. The other guard and a smartly-dressed woman in her mid-forties lay nearby, each with a pair of very precisely placed bullet-holes puncturing their tops and their life's essence leaking out onto the floor in a sluggishly spreading crimson puddle. Their killer shrugged apologetically and spoke as if she'd stapled the wrong documents together or forgotten to refill the coffee pot.

"You normally have three bodyguards with you at all times and I didn't have time to check if the bulge in her jacket was just a PDA. The guards were a statement." Her tone was almost reproachful, as if somehow the change in arrangements had made it Herczeg's fault that he was now lacking a secretary and his ex-secretary was lacking a pulse. An errant strand of dark brown hair was tucked back behind her ear as she resumed leaning on the 19th century mahogany and mother-of-pearl inlaid chair in front of her, much to her host's dissatisfaction.

"I... see. And this statement, would it be along the lines of "Fuck with me and I'll kill you"?" Enquired Herczeg, as he steepled his manicured fingers and leant forwards in his chair, composure still on a knife-edge. Janer grinned broadly, again triggering the primitive lizard part of her former employer's brain.

"I wouldn't put it quite so crudely, Mr. Herczeg, but something along those lines, certainly. I want to retire to somewhere warm and sunny with a private beach and I know what the firm's usual view on retiring hitmen is. We're both aware of how many of my former colleagues I've helped with their 'retirement' plans, and we're both aware of my impeccable record and finesse in the field. So this is me, saying to you that if you leave me in peace then I will return the courtesy. If, on the other hand, you take it into your head to send someone along with the intent of making my retirement rather more final, then I will kill them. After that, I will kill you, your guards, your staff, your family, your friends and anyone else who suffers the misfortune of being there at the time. You know how much care and thought I put into even the easiest of contracts. Consider that my retirement plans are something I have spent the past few years preparing. I don't make threats but I do make promises and on this one you have my word. Yes, Mr. Herczeg, fuck with me and I will kill you. Oh, just so you know, I severed the phoneline at the exchange and the briefcase has an IR-emitter connected to half a pound of plastique, which should be activating about... now." The Hungarian froze perfectly still, save for his eyes, which flicked down to look at the suddenly deadly briefcase before him. "The timer will switch it off in a little less than fifteen minutes but if you move between now and then your office will get re-decorated. With you. There's a twenty millimetre threshold on the receiver so do try not to cough, sneeze or breathe too heavily. Goodbye, Konrad. Be good and we'll never meet again." She flashed another grin before giving a jaunty wave to the stock-still Herczeg and turned to exit his office, stepping daintily around the puddles of blood on the carpet and the bodies that lay in them as she walked to the door and vanished from his life. Well, if he had any sense, that is.