CRAY VALLEY MEADOWS

KENT

JULY 20 2008

Deacon stumbled through the bramble, with the grace of a mortally wounded big cat at the end of a corporate funded hunt,  finally emerging into the open space with the bridge just a hundred metres ahead.  Hand held closely to his stomach,  the warm seepage of ruby red lifeblood gently pulsing through his sweaty digits,  in perfect time with the beating of his heart, as he stumbled ever closer to the stonework and algae cocktail,  the sound of the river growing ever louder in his ears.

He was aware of the footsteps behind him,  and the sound of scything undergrowth and agitated breath,   desperation mounting to finish off the job in hand.

Blood covered flesh finally made intimate contact with the cold stark stonework, as,  placing an arm on the wall to steady himself, Deacon swung round,  bleary eyes focusing hard on the tall dark figure heading his way from the sanctuary of the treeline.  His assailant walked menacingly,  and with vigorous strides,  9mm hand gun held within black leather gloves, as the silencer barrel was fixed and twisted into place

Deacon flashed in and out of conciousness,  his mind vacant and wandering,  perusing the avenues of his intricate and convoluted double life.  The lies he had told,  the secrets he had kept,  the web of deceit he had spun, all seemed to pale into insignificance now as his life flashed before him.

The game was up. He could walk no further,  energy draining from his being as the blood pooled on the ground below him,  his thought's of escape all but faded of hope and drive.  He managed a cursory glance to his left at the hypnotic falling of the river water through a series of round tunnels,  the crystal clear liquid forming tiny rainbows in the midday sunlight as it cascaded into the stream below.

The footsteps ceased and the dark figure now stood three feet from Deacon's failing body. Deacon looked up at the feminine features, desperately trying to focus on facial features,  somewhat obscured by the shadows of the direct sunlight

" A woman "

He afforded himself a wry smile,  his half hearted attempt at ironic laughter thwarted by coughing,  a gaping hole in his torso and a searing pain in his stomach.

" Isn't that just perfect.  My replacement,  a woman!  "

The assailant raised the Baretta, the silencer now perfectly in line with Deacon's temple

" You know,  I was like you once ",  he growled with all the purpose and venom he could finally muster.     " And one day, it will be you standing in my place, when the organisation no longer requires your services "

The assailant,  momentarily halting, glinting eyes and beginnings of a confident smirk,  snapped back

" You were never in my league "

A short crack wrang out,  a single bullet to the temple followed by two straight to Deacon's heart saw his carcass hit the deck,  dead long before the impact of bone and concrete ever played out it's deliciously seductive final embrace.

As Deacons blood dripped and dribbled it's way into the river,  the assailant turned tail,  holstered her weapon and vanished into the undergrowth,  long gone before the first screams rose into the air from shocked ramblers discovering the body of a nameless, faceless family man.