Assassin's Diaries, Mission 2

Hazel heads to Paris to kill a daring diplomat in a hotel. But everything takes an unexpected turn when she is the one that gets attacked.

       The plane landed in France. It was a quiet and peaceful flight. She didn't have to kill anyone, so to Hazel it was an A+ flight. She got off the plane with her bag in tow. There was a car waiting for her outside the airport.

       The car pulled up at a huge five-star hotel. She got out of the car and grinned at the sight of the amazingly nice hotel. She had been out of the country plenty of times, but she had never been to a hotel as nice as this. Not that she was on vacation. Of course, as always, she had a job. And for this job she decided not to ask any questions.

       She handed her bag to a bellhop and headed to the check-in desk. She got her room key and headed for the elevator. Excitement bubbled in her chest. She could see her smiling reflection in the gold tinted doors of the elevator. She wanted to take her time with this mission.

       The doors slid open before they reached her floor. She was still smiling by the time the man pushed the lobby button. She  felt the hot stare of eyes and looked up at the man. Something about him was familiar. He smiled at her, "Fancy meeting you here." It clicked. He was the detective from the café. She frowned and rolled her eyes. "I never did get your name."

       She sighed and all her happiness almost disappeared, "I'm Hazel. What are you doing here? Using your police connections to stalk me?" He planted an offended look on his face that was obviously forced. In the end he couldn't hold it and a smile broke out, "I'm here for my sister's wedding. And how could I stalk you when I didn't even know your name until twenty seconds ago? I think you're the one stalking me."

       She checked what floor the elevator was on. Ugh, why did she have to get such a high up room. A harsh laughed escaped her throat, "Ha! Why would I want to stalk you? I would be completely happy if I never saw you again." Perfect timing. The doors dinged and slid open. She rushed out and fast-walked down the hall.

       The door to her room opened with a swipe of her key. She couldn't help the grin that popped onto her lips. She loved her room. She wished she could live here permanently. She was going to make the mission take awhile. She threw her clothes into a dresser and pulled out her weapons. She set her gun and silencer on the desk and pulled out her knives. She counted all six of them. It was calming to her. She hid all her weapons under her clothes and pulled a vial of poison out of her purse. It was incase she got the opportunity in a social situation. It took about an hour to kick in and was extremely deadly. By the time started showing signs of being sick, he would be dead.

       That night, she felt like going out. So she pulled on a blue cocktail dress with strappy heels. She braided her long brown hair down her side and grabbed her purse. She was relieved when she had the elevator to herself. The bar in the hotel was busy. She had to push through a group of people just to get to a seat at the bar. And when she finally did sit down the man next to her turned and she groaned. Liam was wearing a fancy black tux with lavender accents. She swore, "Ah, hell."

       He smirked, "Are you sure you're not stalking me?" Now she noticed why it was so busy. It was a wedding party. Liam's sister's wedding party. Across the bar she spotted a woman in a mermaid style wedding dress. "So what do you think? Is lavender my color?"

       She ordered a drink and sighed, "Honestly? No. It washes out your bottle blonde hair." He nodded and ran a hand through his wavy blonde mop of hair.

       "It's natural, for the record. And I didn't think it was that bad."

       She laughed, almost choking on her drink, "Not that bad? I think your sister was trying to make you look like a dead flower."

        He chuckled, "Can I buy you another drink?" She wanted to tell him no, but part of her was tired of fighting. She could be friendly without getting too close, right? It didn't really matter. She would die of exhaustion if she was sarcastic and rude every time she seemed to run into him.

       "Sure. And I can buy you one," she offered. He raised his eyebrow at her, "Doesn't that defeat the whole purpose of me buying you a drink?" She glared at him, "Are you going to tick me off when I'm being this nice to you?"

       He rested his chin on his hand, "You think this is nice? I wonder what you think full out hateful is like?" He smiled a dazzling smile. She noticed how perfectly shaped and white his teeth were. Hazel shook her head, what was in her drink? "So what are you doing in the city of love, Hazel?"

       She stared at the rip of her glass, "Work vacation. But I'm going to take as long as possible." Someone called Liam from the other end of the bar.

      He glanced in their direction and then back at Hazel. His expression turned regretful, "I have to go. It's speech time." He paused but sounded like he wanted to say more.

       Hazel nodded, "Yeah, I should probably go. I'm no fun when I'm drunk." She picked up her purse and started to get up. Liam got up with her. He smirked, "So you are fun when your not drunk? Have you been drunk our entire relationship?"

       She frowned playfully, "What relationship?"

       She got in the elevator, suddenly completely frazzled. She leaned against the wall of the elevator. It dinged as it came up to her room. She started walking toward her room. She saw a man walking the opposite way. She didn't pay attention to him. He seemed insignificant. Then, he bugged into her. Her vision got fuzzy and she gasped, everything went black.

       When she came to, she was standing on the roof of the hotel. Or at least, that's where she assumed she was. She saw the same view now that she had seen looking out her window. She looked around desperately. She had to get her bearings and soak in her surroundings. She couldn't stand to be sloppy.

       She noticed a black image from the corner of her eye. She turned to face him. He was familiar. A silhouette she could never forget. He was the man who had gotten in her way during her last assassination. He had fought with her and she could have killed him if her mark hadn't barged in.

       She got in her fighting stance, "Who are you?" He just stood there. She cursed the fact that she could not make out his face. He stood as weaponless as her. She really wished she had strapped a knife to her thigh. "What do you want?"

       He didn't speak. He just surged forward. He attacked her with his fists. She tried blocking his knuckles, but he was fast and she was still drugged. He landed a firm punch to her cheek and she fell to the ground. She spit out blood that surged from the inside of her cheek. She growled, "I'm going to kill you." Hazel stood and readied her fists. She punched at him and he blocked her slow moves easily. Trying to surprise him, she launched her foot at his knee.

       He yelled out in pain and collapsed to his knees. She took the opportunity to punch him in the stomach multiple times. Her vision got blurry again and her mind got dizzy. She was panting as she reached for his hood. With the darkness of night and the dizziness taking over her body she couldn't make out his features. The next thing she felt was the coldness of the floor against her cheek.

       Hazel woke up in her room, face first on her bed. She picked up her head. There was a moment of confusion. Where was she? Then she remembered. She was in Paris on a job and she was attacked on the roof.

       She immediately stood and starting packing up her things. She was leaving. She wasn't planning on staying anymore than she had to. This city didn't seem beautiful anymore, it seemed dangerous. She had to get out of there. Scheduling the earliest flight possible, she carried her bags down to the lobby. She dropped her key off and left. She was abandoning a good and easy job, but she didn't care. She wasn't going to wait for him to find her again. She was leaving. And she hoped the next time she came to Paris it would end better.