Page 62 of The Specialist

Ivan shrugged, not put out.

“I want you to reconsider my offer. In fact, I’ll add a bonus and more work.”

“Not interested.”

“You haven’t heard my offer.”

“How did you find me?”

“Your reputation precedes you.”

“My reputation is not well-known.”

He smirked. “It is to some.”

He held out his hand, and Alex pulled a file from his bag. He slid it my way. I opened it up, shocked at the images and information it contained. Remnants of a past I didn’t want to think of. I was no longer that man, existing on grief and anger. I had moved past it.

I pushed it back. “I am not that man anymore. I don’t do jobs for hire.”

“I suggest you reconsider.”

“And once again, I suggest you fuck off.”

He didn’t react.

“There are a lot of explosives specialists. Go hire one of them.”

He regarded me impassively, sipping his coffee as if we were having a friendly chat. “Not with your talent.”

I was angry and tired of his games. “What is it you want done?”

He leaned in, the gleam in his eye malicious and intense.

“There is a situation. I need it eliminated. I need the deadly ghost to handle it.”

That name from the past rocked me, but I kept my voice level. “Not good enough. What situation?”

“A storage facility. Highly protected. I need you to go in and plant a bomb in plain sight. Walk in with it, walk out without it. Detonate it immediately.”

“What?”

“Everything and everyone in that building must disappear.”

“You expect me to murder people?”

“I expect you to do exactly that. And you will.”

My stomach turned. I had never killed innocent people. I saved them. “No, I will not. I don’t kill blameless people.”

“They aren’t blameless to me.”

“Your opinion on this doesn’t matter. I refuse.”

“Are you so certain of that answer, Mr. Vulpe?”

“Yes. Find yourself another gun for hire.”

“Have you nothing to lose?”