Danny Murphy, dressed in shorts and a flowery tee-shirt, was sunbathing in a padded recliner on the starboard Promenade deck, the side of the ship shaded from the sun. Even here, though, it was still delightfully hot to a man more used to the chilly climate of Northern England, and Danny sighed contentedly as he took another long swallow from the bottle of beer that stood on the varnished wooden deck beside him. Another two empty bottles stood beside it, along with a third that had fallen onto its side and was rolling to and fro with every slow movement of the ship. In front of him, visible beneath the tender hanging from the deck above and through the posts of the railing that guarded the edge of the ship, the sea and the sky were two contrasting shades of blue. Light blue above and darker blue below. The waves were so wide and low that they almost couldn't be seen, making the sea appear to be almost totally flat.

He lay back and rested his head on the cushion, allowing himself to relax in a way that was normally almost impossible for him. He closed his eyes, and allowed the hyper-vigilance that had saved his life so many times in the past to fade away, not even stirring when he heard the footsteps of other passengers going past. The opportunity for total relaxation was so rare that he wasn't going to let some rich, retired couple disturb it, and so when his phone rang he swore viciously, not caring whether they were still close enough to hear.

"Bloody hell, who's that?" he muttered to himself. The list of possibilities was short. There were only half a dozen people in the world who had this number. His other phone, containing all his business contacts, was back in his cabin. If any of them tried to call him, they'd have to wait for him to call back, if he could be bothered.

"Bad form to disturb a man when he's on holiday," said Floyd Hansen, his business associate, who was relaxing in another recliner beside him. "But then, we're not really on holiday, are we?"
Danny ignored the comment. He took the phone from the bag he was wearing around his waist and scowled at the name that appeared on the screen. He looked around to make sure the rich couple had moved a good distance away, then swiped the screen to answer it. He put it on speaker so Floyd could hear the conversation.

"Is it done yet?" demanded the voice of 'Piano' Jack, the man who'd hired them.

"No it's not bloody done yet," Danny replied. "We'll get him when we get to Rio, so we can get ashore and lose ourselves in the city before the deed is discovered. We don't want to be trapped on a ship hundreds of miles out to sea while everyone's turning it upside-down looking for the killer of Travis Dixon."

"You've stopped at half a dozen ports since you got aboard," Piano replied. "You could have plugged him at any of them."

"And miss the rest of this lovely cruise?" said Danny, forcing himself to sound cheerful. "Don't you worry, mate. The big man will be gathering flies before the end of the week."

"He'd better. I was told you two were the best. Prove it to me, or the next people I hire will be coming to get you."

The call ended, and Danny stared at the phone as if he could direct a death-gaze at the man who'd just been on the other end of it. "Did you hear that?" he asked his companion. "Did you hear what he just said?"

"If a man's not got the respect of his peers, he's got nothing," Floyd replied. There was a faint smile of amusement on his face. He had a pretty good idea what was coming.

Sure enough, Danny was already pressing the call-back button. It was answered almost immediately. "I'm sorry," he said in a sweet voice. "We seem to have been unexpectedly cut off. You were saying something about hiring someone else. To get who?"

"Don't bloody play games with me," the other man snapped back. "I am not a man to play games with."

"And you think we are?" Danny asked, deliberately keeping his voice calm. "Did you forget just how much you're paying for our services? Did you forget why you decided to hire us for this job, instead of any of the hundreds of other gun monkeys there are out there? You could have hired any Tom, Dick or Harry to put a couple o' slugs into the guy's brain. Instead you hired Double Tap and Toe Tag. Professionals who, if I may say so myself, have a reputation that extends to every corner of this beautiful world on which we live. So you know who we are, right? There is no confusion in your mind on this point?"

"Are you threatening me?" Demanded Piano, and Danny was pleased to hear the note of fear in his voice. Floyd grinned as well. Once again, Danny had the phone on speaker so they could both hear it.

"You just threatened us," Danny reminded him, his voice going cold. "You threatened Double Tap and Toe Tag. Are you fucking suicidal?"

There was a pause, as if Piano was replaying his words in his head and only just realising what he'd said. "Come on, boys," he then said. "You know I didn't mean it. I'm under a lot of stress at the moment. I've put all my money, every cent I've got, buying shares in companies owned by Dixon's competitors. If he dies, their stocks rise and I make a fortune. If he doesn't, I'm ruined. I... I'm sorry if my words came across the wrong way. Why don't I put your fees up by an extra ten percent, just as a token of my high regard for you two gentlemen?"

"Twenty," Danny told him. "And it had better be in our accounts before we get to Rio, or we just might come and pay you a personal visit during which I'll show you how I came by my nom-de-plume, and my colleague will show you how he came by his."

He disconnected the call, and dropped the phone back into his waist bag, making sure the cover was closed so the screen wouldn't be scratched on the 9mm pistol he also had in there.

"Threatening us," he muttered again, under his breath. "Us."

"I think you tought him the error of his ways," Floyd replied. "Just one thing, though. Why are you Double Tap and I'm Toe Tag? I pop just as many Jimmies as you."

"We're both Double Tap and we're both Toe Tag," his companion assured him. "Both names apply to both of us. We're a team. Right?"

"I'll show you how I came by my nom-de-plume, and my colleague will show you how he came by his," Floyd quoted him. "Sounds pretty clear to me that you think you're Double Tap."

"Look, when we go plug Piano, you can be the one to pull the trigger," said Danny. "You plug him, and I'll put the tag on his toe. That make you happy?"

"So long as you don't just assume. That's all I'm saying. We're gonna plug him, then?"

"Well, maybe not," Danny added. "Killing our clients would be bad for business, but you can do Travis Dixon. Okay?"

"And you'll tag him," Floyd agreed. "Gotta do the Toe Tag. That's our hallmark. Brand recognition. That's how you get customers. You gotta stand out from the crowd."

"Right. And from now on, we take turns. Maybe I have been doing a bit more of the plugging than you."

"Just recently, yes."

"Well, that stops. We're partners. Equal partners. We do everything fifty fifty. We've been together for ten years, because what we've got works."

"Double Tap and Toe Tag," said Floyd, smiling. "One to do the job, one to keep a look out."

"And there's no-one I'd rather have watching my back than you."

"Tell you what," said Floyd, gazing dreamily off into the distance, "but the idea of plugging Piano really makes me feel good. It's not just that phone call. He's been showing us a distinct lack of respect for years now. The guy seems to think that, just because he's paying us, that makes him better than us or something."

"The guy's got enemies," Danny pointed out. "It's only a matter of time before someone puts a price on him. Then we can put a tag on his toe and no-one will be able to say anything about it. Not even Paddy."

"I ain't scared o' Paddy," said Floyd, though. "I mean, who says he gets to be boss of the Assassins League? Just because he's been around for a long time..."

"That's why he gets to be boss," said Danny, gesturing with his beer bottle for emphasis. "Like the man said, beware an old man in a profession where most people die young. Paddy Whack's been in the business since before we were born. That's why. He puts the word out on us, it'll make what happened to John Wick look like a boy scout's picnic."

"John Wick wasn't real," Floyd pointed out.

"No, but Paddy Whack is real, and he's got connections we can't imagine. We can't touch Piano unless someone puts a price on him, but that's only a matter of time. We've just got to be patient."

Floyd sighed "You know what we need," he said dreamily. "We need to get laid. Waddya say we go find a couple o' pretty maids an' take 'em back to our cabins? I don't know about you, but that big ol' cabin seems a bit empty with only me in it."

"Not when we're on a job," said Danny, though. "You go ahead, but I never shag when we're on a job. I like to stay focused."

"Maybe you're right," Floyd reluctantly agreed. "After, though. When we're in Rio, we'll see what their red light district's like. Right?"

"Right."

There was a crack of thunder that froze both men, and they stared out to sea trying to see where the sound had come from. "Is that a storm coming?" asked Danny.

"Can't be," Floyd replied. "The sky's clear. Not a cloud in sight."
Danny stood and walked across to the railing. He stood aside for a young couple and their children, chatting idly as they strolled by. Then he leaned over the railing to look forward, in the direction the ship was sailing. He scowled as he returned to his recliner, but he made no move to lie back down on it. "There's a cloud, right in front of us," he said. "All alone in the sky. Looks really weird with blue sky all around it."

"Bloody foreign weather," said Floyd. "We gonna get wet?"

"We're heading right for it," Danny told him. "Time to go inside, I reckon. I'm getting a bit peckish anyway. Let's go find something to eat."

Floyd stood, and the two men strolled along the Promenade, heading for the door back inside.