Time: Modern Day
Location: In Transit to NYC

On the plane Carlos was rabbiting on about it being his first time on a private jet. He asked Anton if he could see inside the cockpit. He was like a kid going on holidays with his Dad even though Carlos was probably five years older than Anton.

They had lunch and Carlos steered the small talk towards Petros.

"What do you think of him?"

"You mean Peter?"

"Yes, Petros. Didn't he kill your Dad?"

"Did he?"

"Why do they protect him? Why didn't you kill him for killing your Dad? I would have!"

"No you wouldn't have. You might have tried but you'd be dead right now." Anton admonished.

"You know there is something wrong with him? He's not the same person since he killed your Dad . . . And Enrico."

"How do you know that?"

Carlos explained, "We live on the same unit block, next door in fact. I have for the last four years. The first three years he drove me crazy playing that guitar of his at all hours of the night and then in the weeks before the shootings when he wasn't playing the guitar he'd be playing rock music loud and non stop till two or three in the morning. I ended up knowing the words to every Bob Dylan song known to man! I complained many times to the building supervisor and to Dan as well. I think Dan even told Enrico about his behaviour."

"So how is he different?"

"Well, where do I start? First thing, what he did that day was completely out of character. He hated guns. He didn't know how to shoot, let alone shoot someone dead, two people in fact. I'm right aren't I? He killed Andre too didn't he? I knew Arturo better than anyone. No way he was radicalised into killing Enrico. Something was fishy about the whole thing. Andre vanished straight afterwards, no trace, I know how valuable your father was to the Vatican. It's the only feasible explanation Andre died somehow that day too. Your Dad was Enrico's bodyguard, and Enrico died, so your Dad died trying to protect Enrico. He failed and then disappeared. Then you took over his job. Clearly you don't have to be Sherlock Holmes to work it out."

"So, what if you are right? Do you think they would promote him to Guardian if he killed my Dad and the Black Pope? No Carlos you're wrong. Arturo the guard killed Enrico but maybe you are right, my father is dead. But it's not what you think. If Peter killed my father do you think I would let him live? You don't know me too well, do you? You got anything else?"

"His eyes! Ever since he came back from the hospital his eyes have been a different colour. He always had very brown eyes, almost black. Now they are blue, as blue as the sky. It's weird. And he never plays the guitar anymore or plays music late at night either. Like he's suddenly lost all interest in music. But conspiracy theories he's well into them. He got me investigating all sorts of conspiracies about JFK, RFK assassinations and even Marilyn Monroe. Why is he suddenly more interested in dead politicians and movie stars instead of live musicians? It's weird. And he spends all his time in the Vault of Secrets. He never comes out. Sometimes he hasn't come out when it's time for me and even Sol to clock off.

Most nights lately he gets back when I'm already in bed. Then instead of warning me I've been replaced he lets me get embarrassed in front of Graz by not knowing who my replacement is, right there in front of everyone in Graz's office. He leaves it to Graz to tell me I'm becoming an assassin and going to America with you."

"Now look Carlos, Graz may have installed you into the Ring of Assassins but that doesn't make you an assassin. You might have the skull ring and know how to use it but there's a vast difference between killing in the field and directing from the office. You will do as I say and only as I say is that clear?'

"Sure, you're the boss."

"That's right both our lives depend on you following orders no matter what they are. Even if it's to kill yourself or even me, understand?"

"Yes, boss."

"And don't call.me boss in front of anyone."

"What do I call you then?"

"Nothing. You do not speak unless I ask you to. Even then you do not identify yourself or me, is that clear?"

"Yes."

"Good. Now let's go up and have a look at the cockpit eh?"

"Yes."

Anton led the way up to the front of the plane and knocked on three times on the door. It opened and a female co-pilot blocked the doorway.

"Yes sir?"

"My friend and I would like to take a look if that's okay. It's his first private trip, you see."

"Okay I'll ask the Captain."

She returned a minute later.

"He said okay but only for a few minutes. It's not really condoned on these types of flights."

"And what types of flights are those?"

"CIA flights sir, but you already know that."

"Yes I do but thank you for being flexible."

"Oh, we aren't actually, but the Captain radioed ahead and got clearance. You must be a VIP," she smiled her best terrified smile. Obviously, they had been told who they had on board and Anton's reputation preceded him.

Anton stepped aside so Carlos could enter the cockpit.

"Wow, look at that would you," Carlos blurted out like an excited high school student. He was pointing to the East Coast of America off in the distance.

"What's that green symbol on the radar?" Carlos asked.

"That's JFK International. That's where we are headed," the Pilot answered.

"I thought we would be going to Washington DC?"

"No, JFK, that's what our flight plan says, so that is where we are going."

Carlos looked at Anton quizzically. Anton indicated with an index finger to his lips for Carlos to fall silent. Carlos was disappointed. He was looking forward to doing the sites around Washington. He'd never been to Washington. He'd been to New York several times and didn't much care for it. It is too busy and much too noisy for his liking.

"We better get back now Carlos. We can have another drink and some nuts and a snack and it'll be time to land."

"Yes, that would be best gentlemen if you were to regain your seats as we begin our descent," the co-pilot said with relief.

"Okay, we get the message." Carlos said sarcastically, as he wheeled around and entered the passenger lounge. The flight attendant had overheard Anton and was already replenishing their drinks and snacks. Anton was developing a healthy dislike for Carlos already but he may prove useful when they got back as a spy on Peter. That's if they did get back at all.

When they were seated and had their drinks in hand Carlos looked at Anton with a cross look, somewhere between quizzical and suspicious, "And tell me Anton when did you know we were headed for New York and not Washington?"

"From the beginning, Graz messaged me of a change in plans. We had to do some swift shifting of the venue set up and rendezvous arrangements. I thought he would have arranged for a message to get to you too?"

"Why did you let me rabbit on about seeing the sights in Washington for so long then?"

"I don't know Carlos, why do YOU think I did that?"

Carlos was taken aback by the thinly disguised sarcasm in Anton's voice. "I don't know, you wanted to make a fool out if me, to show me who was boss, more important to the Black Pope, who knows?"

"No, you're not that important to me Carlos I'm afraid. I was just interested that Petros had obviously decided not to tell you. I was busy contemplating why that would be while you were, as you put it, rabbiting on. Why you two have obviously had a falling out? Am I wrong, Carlos? I was thinking about the last time all three of us were involved in a contract. It was that business in the tunnel in Paris. Has it something to do with that?"

"More like the Sydney restaurant job actually."

"You mean that investigative journalist that was nosing around Dan?"

"Yes, he was Petros' son. Enrico told me not to tell him the identity of the target till it was over. He just knew Dan was in danger of being exposed. That was enough. He was always watching that guy on Youtube, that Australian show After Dark, a bit like A Current Affair. Exploring and exposing shit about the government and other bodies like the Church for instance. What he didn't know was that Carter was his illegitimate son. He had an obsession with Carter's mother. He loved her. He didn't know Andre had killed her in Paris when Carter was a baby. She had named the baby Peter, so it was definitely his. After her death her twin sister adopted the baby and changed its name to Carter for some reason."

"Holy fuck! So that's why he turned the gun on my Dad who was unarmed instead of shooting the guard with the spear. He must have found out Enrico and Andre killed his lover. The mother of his child. Shit, that means he knows I killed his son then. He would have killed me too given the chance. That explains a lot, maybe everything.

"That's why Peter insisted on sending you with me. We are both on what he thinks will be a suicide mission. We will be killed, but not by him, by the Secret Service, the FBI, the police or we'll commit suicide. Either way, we'll be dead. That's all that matters to him. Gotta hand it to Petros he is a master planner. No wonder they chose him as Guardian. He is as ruthless as he is smart."

"What do you mean a suicide mission? I thought we were just giving some Special Treatment to that Layla bitch and her latest fuck, Mal. I knew I should have told you to deal with her at the funeral. Enrico thought it could bring too much attention to Dan possibly by association. Look where it's gotten us now though having to go to America to deal with her."

"I guess I can tell you now. Come closer Carlos I don't want anyone else to overhear." Anton continued in barely a whisper. "This Layla and Mal are not the prime targets. We are killing one of the Presidential candidates. PJL, the alternative Democrat candidate. I will take out PJL while you take out Layla, if we have time and the opportunity once we have completed our primary missions each of us can take a shot at Mal, but only if we can do so with safety, otherwise we abort and escape. Is that clear Carlos?"

"Holy Shit. How are we getting close enough without alerting the Secret Service?"

"That's why New York. It would be practically impossible in Washington even given CIA help. Just getting access to the right equipment would raise red flags with the FBI underlings which could prove to be a problem. So Petros came up with this plan. Next week it's United Nations Day. The three main candidates are going to be talking to the media about the escalating tensions in Ukraine. Petros has called in favours in the media and got them to arrange a street talk concept in the street outside on the lawn in front of all the flags with the UN building as a backdrop.

"We will scout out the surrounding buildings tomorrow before the press and security descend on the area at the weekend.

"So we are about to land at JFK airport then we get the Metro to Manhattan. We pick up our tools on the train then it's off to the Hilton for a bit of R and R while we prepare.

As fate would have it Layla and Mal's plane landed five minutes ahead of schedule. They grabbed their bags and were on their way out to the taxi rank when . . .

Mal grabbed Layla and pulled her into him as the Learjet screamed overhead.

"Sheesh, that was close. What's he doing flying so low over the terminal? Don't they know they could give someone a heart attack," Mal berated the tiny Learjet shaking his fist in the air.

"Rich bastards don't care about anyone else just getting there in a hurry," Layla added.

They had no idea that the occupants of the screaming Learjet above them would have been totally fine if Layla and Mal had keeled over with heart attacks. It would have saved them a couple of bullets and made their coming job a hell of a lot easier.

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