Prologue
The cold air stirred for a brief moment, making Phil's trench coat twitch. I felt the breeze against my bare chest fur, but it did not shift my arm. Held straight out from my body, the weight of the .45 started to be felt. Phil was unmoving. I could see the smoke from his cigarette rising, and then dissipating above his head. "So it comes to this, huh?" Phil stated, almost nonchalantly, his back still to me. I stared for a moment. This was my teacher, my friend... my target.
I had joined the Wilson Foundation nearly two years ago. In that time I had learned everything from human anatomy to basic stealth to making poisons. As you can guess, the Wilson Foundation isn't your run-of-the-mill company. Wilson specializes in the "extermination of pests in the real world". In other words, we are basically assassins.
Upon entering the company, every "apprentice" is given a "mentor". This is done to ensure that the next generation of employees is just as good, if not better, than the last. When I joined, I was paired with Phil. Phil is a black lab, and is quite possibly the best employee the company has. He is the only employee to last more than 10 years with Wilson, and has a nearly perfect record in terms of job completion.
And now, here I was, gun in hand, facing my teacher while he smoked what could be his last cigarette. Wilson had one last job for all apprentices in order to become permanent employees. Kill your mentor.
He still did not turn, so I moved slightly closer. My left hand inched slowly toward my knife, in case he was fast enough to get the gun from my hand before I shot.
"You know, I've been with the company for 15 years." Phil mused, "In that time I've had seven apprentices."
"And I'm the first to get this far, is that it? Are you praising me for a job well done?"
"No, I've had three make it this far. I was simply explaining myself." His voice seamed distant, as if he was remembering something. "My friend, why do you think it was so easy for you to get this close to me?"
"I'm your apprentice, that's why they pick us for these 'retirement notices', isn't that it?"
"No. Even though they think that we trust you enough to get this close, every time we meet out of jobs, I've had a gun or knife within easy reach. We all do, just in case you go for a 'retirement notice'."
His arm moved. I tightened my grip on my pistol. He grabbed the cigarette from his mouth, blowing the smoke from his lungs into the open air. As I starred at his silhouette, I saw not only a mentor, a teacher, a coworker, but a friend.
Again the smoke dissipated, and I found myself longing to be at a bar, sharing drinks with this man I was now so fond of. Or perhaps at my house, reviewing the upcoming targets. Anywhere was better than this place. My grip loosened slightly, my stance became less rigid and I stepped back.
Phil turned, slowly, until he came to face me. The moonlight lit up his jet black fur, the gleam seeming to come from him. He dropped the cigarette, smoke still rising from the smoldering tip.
In an instant, he was near me. He had pushed my gun to the side and had gotten to close for me to get my knife, all in less than a second. His hands moved in an odd fashion, and I thought it was over. I thought, for sure, there was one thing he hadn't taught me, and he was going to use that to kill me.
Instead, his arms wrapped around me. A hug? He squeezed softly as I dropped my gun, my fur rubbing his trench coat.
"I let you get this far because I'm tired. I'm tired of fighting, of killing, of running. I'm simply tired of all of this, and I'm glad that you're the one. You will be the one to end this tired old man and become one of Wilson's finest."
He ceased his squeeze and held me at arm's length. "You have to finish this. I have killed every other apprentice I've had, that's just the way it worked out." He looked me in the eye, into my very soul, as he spoke. "But you, you're something special. I love you like a son, and if anyone at that fucked up company is going to kill me, I'm glad that it's you."
"Phil, I..." My words fell, I couldn't speak. This was my friend and he wanted me to kill him. "I can't."
"What?" He sounded almost disheartened.
"There is no way I could kill my closest and dearest friend. I simply can't do it."
"Interesting..." He stated in a distant voice.
"Interesting?!? That all you think about all of this, interesting?!?"
"Well in that case..." His hand move with lightning speed as he pulled his own weapon. I cringed as the gun came within inches of my head and fired.
Behind me, I heard a grunt of pain and a thud as someone fell. I looked at Phil, he looked past me. I turned to see one of the other Wilson employees, blood pooling around him on the ground. My fur still on end from the shock of the gunshot, I looked down at my own gun.
As I leaned over to pick it up, Phil explained. "In reality, the three that made it this far, they shot me. I'm wearing a bullet-proof vest under this coat. In the vest, I've laced bags of blood, in order to fool them into thinking I was dead. In all three of those cases, there has been another employee there to kill off whoever 'killed' me. That way the company never has anyone who was as good as me. They were always paranoid I would desert and take my skills to new people.
"The next day, I would show up as though nothing had happened. Eventually, Wilson figured that either I had help, or the apprentice got the wrong man. The other four apprentices, I had to kill myself. They were getting sloppy and I couldn't risk my own skin to save them. So, on relatively hard jobs, I made it look like one of the targets got lucky, or something to that effect. In any case, out of seven apprentices, all had failed at their last job. Until now, that is."
"So, wait. You're telling me that you used that same speal on three other apprentices, and they shot you instead?"
"No, the other three simply shot me in the back as I stood here smoking. No courage, no courtesy, no honor."
"Was any of what you said true?"
"Actually, yes. If you had said ok, I was going to tell you about him." He pointed to the dead employee.
"So, what now?"
"Well, the company won't find out about him until, roughly, tomorrow at 3:00pm."
"Still that good with your timing? Damn, you've still got it."
"I try. So, now we have to get away from here. I actually have a cabin in the middle of nowhere, Wisconsin."
"What the hell are we waiting for, then?"
My name is Vince. I am a former Wilson Foundation employee, and this is the beginning of my new life.