The Profiler Chapter 2

The Profiler

Chapter 2


In the dim light that filtered through the dirty windows of an otherwise abandoned warehouse, a slight figure swayed back and forth.  The wait ponderous, Michael Julien shifted from one foot to another in expectation of his latest assignment.  Normally, given the particular circumstances of this one, he would not have considered taking the risk.
It was the voice on the other end of previous calls that drew him in, intrigued him.  He had not received a request like this from a woman in a long time and never from one whose conscience he thought would be burdened by such an order.  To those women who usually made arrangements such as these, it was simply business, a way to eliminate the clutter in their lives, like spring-cleaning.  He hated those women.
For this and other reasons he could not explain, Michael did not hang up within the first five minutes of her initial call.  Receptive to the soft and wavering voice on the other end, he listened as if the woman who spoke were a one-night stand he was trying to pick up at Mack’s Club Deuce.  He had questions of course, but they could wait because despite his reservations, he knew that he was going to accept this assignment.  A lead from that fat, sloth-like bastard Otis was always a good one, always lucrative.
The phone rang.
         “What’s it going to be?”  Michael said.
         “I assume you’ve been given the target.”  The woman replied.
         “Yeah, Otis informed me earlier.”  Michael listened for a moment, then added.  “I know this may sound cliché, but do you want any evidence left behind, a trail?”
         Her slow response implied innocence.
         “I don’t care.  He’s always surrounded by body guards, so whatever you can do to make it happen is fine by me.”
         Michael sensed her doubt, sensed that she might be considering backing out.  He could not let that happen, he needed the money to get straight.  He hurried the conversation along.
         “Okay, it’ll get done.  As for my final payment…”
         “Its location has been given to our mutual acquaintance.  He’s probably got it already.  I don’t mind if you call him to make sure it’s right.”
         To Michael, the woman’s voice sounded hopeful, as if she wanted him to trust her, but he never could have.  He didn’t trust anyone, not even Otis, the closest thing he had to a friend.
         “I will.  And as agreed, our mutual acquaintance will hold onto it until my work is done.”  At that moment Michael’s professional pride resonated in his voice.
         “You know you don’t have to wait to get that money, don’t you.  I have to trust you.”
The woman’s voice sounded even sweeter, if that were possible.
         “You shouldn’t.”  He said.  He didn’t want anyone’s trust.  “But keep an eye on the news.”
         Michael then hung up the phone, sat on a stack of palettes and tried to make sense of the conversation.  Had this been one of his previous clients, he would not have wasted the time dissecting it.  In those instances, he did not care what their motivations were.  He simply took out the target, collected his fee and moved on, no questions asked, none answered.
         This was different however.  This woman sounded like she already regretted her decision, but she was going through with it anyway.  It was as if something was forcing her into it.  Michael would think more about this, but not at that moment.  There were preparations to be made, people to call, he would need help.