The Assignment

It was a cold night. Visibility was very poor. The temperature had forced people to scurry indoors quite well before the usual time. The people who were seen on the streets were completely covered in warm clothes. Their eyes were the only discernible part of their bodies. The climate had been like this for the past fortnight or so, making everyday chores tedious after dusk. In the enveloped darkness of the region, huddled under a cart of hay, lay X. He had shoulders that seemed to stretch forever between ends. His frame was huge enough to put a bull to shame. He was comfortably clothed in tight fitting woollen clothes designed to keep even the coldest draft from touching his body. The dress was filthily expensive, but then, it had been a gift to him from his benefactor. X still vividly remembered the events, which led to him receiving the gift along with many more exquisite delicacies which entertained him for days.

It had been another dark night, a week before. He was lying in his bed and ruminating on methods to earn his livelihood. The war had torn the small nation into shreds, leaving little room for ways to support oneself financially. Self-made juntas ruled small provinces, disrupting the little law and order that prevailed. The government was a toothless ageing lion that tried to repeat its once threatening roar, but could hardly come out with a rumble. Chaos was the order of the day, and fear reigned supreme among the citizens. As a former soldier, X’s reputation had spread as a fearsome and brave soldier who had captured some vital places for his country. He could kill a bird in flight, blindfolded, by the sound of the flapping of wings. Such was his accuracy that he had killed 117 snipers; four score of them shot through their sniper rifles’ magnifying glass, shattering the eye behind. He was the most feared and sought after soldier by the enemy camp. His frame and size belied the speed and the agility that he possessed. He once carried his wounded captain on his shoulders and ran under cross-fire for more than a kilometre, outrunning two of his comrades in the process. He was strong, lithe and lethal. In short, he was an absolute killing machine. But, gone were the days he had been in war, employed as a soldier. Killing was a dirty job, he admitted it. But then, he had killed for his country. It was his duty. It was almost a year since the war ended. He had received three months’ wages when his battalion was disbanded. He was sent home with medals. He had managed to eke out a living for about six months. The resources of the country had been deeply ravaged. There was not much that anyone could do. Jobs were very rare. People scraped, stole, cursed and spat. He began to sell his belongings one by one. Besides himself, he had a wife and a son to feed. It was at this point that the summon came.

There was a sharp knock on the door. X wondered who it might be. He opened the door to see two men standing. Their faces were partially covered and they were covered in blankets wrapped around their bodies.

“Who are you? What do you want?” asked X.

“We believe you are looking for a way to earn a living” said one of the men.

“Everyone is…… considering what the war has done to our country”, said X. “What does that have to do with you coming here now?” he asked.

“We have something to offer you”, said the man who had spoken first.

“Come inside” replied X. He desperately wanted a job.

The men came inside and seated themselves on an old rickety wooden contraption that was an excuse for a bench. He had nothing to offer the men. He stood opposite to them with hands folded across his broad chest and looked at them.

The man spoke again. “We all know of your skill with the gun and your killing methods. Can you take up an assignment?”

“What assignment can I finish with my gun, now that the war is over?”

“There are still enemies who have to be eliminated. “

“Enemies? Where? The war has been over for more than six months now and you still speak of enemies!”

The two men looked at each other. The man, the one who had been silent so far, gave a sigh, cleared his throat and spoke.

“We do not talk about enemies of the country. We have been sent by someone whose identity we do not choose to disclose. To put it plainly X, we want you to eliminate a particular target. Can you do it? Your woeful existence on this planet will become meaningful and you will be able to lead a better life” he said looking at the sparse belongings in the room.

X did not bat an eyelid as he listened to the man speak. At other times he would have outright thrown the men out and would have forgotten the incident. Now things were different. The lives of his family members were at stake. He stared balefully at the men, his thoughts running amuck. He had to make a choice. Would it be right to kill someone??? But hadn’t he killed so many people before??? He made the choice.

“I will do it….but only this time. What will you pay me?” asked X.

“Here…take this bag. This contains warm clothes for you. You will also find some food inside to keep you alive for the week. Tomorrow morning you will receive enough food and wages to sustain you for years. Once you finish the assignment, you will receive twenty years’ wages as a single payment” said the man.

X could not believe his ears. Twenty years’ wages as a single payment was too good to believe. This was the kind of job a man would kill for! And he was going to kill….The thought suddenly froze him…He was silent for a while. But, who will feed his family???

“Who am I supposed to kill and where?” asked X.

“Everything will be relayed to you tomorrow” said the man. Then, both of them disappeared into the night.

X’s wife came and looked at her husband. She had been listening to the conversation from the next room. She knew how desperate her husband was. She also knew that it was for her sake and her son’s sake that he had accepted that job.

“Were you listening?” asked X.

“Are you sure you made the right choice honey?” asked his wife.

“I have no other option. You cannot go for work. I have no work anywhere and our son is so enamoured with his girl that he does not even come to our house for days. What would you have me do, my love? What else shall I do? How shall I save my family?”

His wife remained silent. She knew that what he said was true. Women could not work in a country where even men could not find one. Their son had turned deaf ears to the pleas made by his mother. X loved their son too much to even tell him that he was besotted with the girl. He waited and hoped that their son would, one day, become responsible and take care of the needs of the family.

All these things flashed across his mind as X lay in the cart. There was a conflict still going on in his mind. He tried to push away all the raging thoughts out of his mind and concentrate on the task at hand. He was asked to kill a man wearing a red sweater and a white scarf. The man would come out of the local tavern. X wanted more information, but was told that only one person would come in red and white. After the kill, he was required to remove the scarf from the man and take it with him. He could feel the gun placed inside his clothes. He took it out. The silencer fit at the end of the barrel made it look more menacing. It was oiled and in prime condition. He placed the gun back inside his jacket. He was grateful for the warm clothes covering him. But for those clothes, it would not be possible for him to be here so comfortably.

The night wore on. The number of people on the road became almost negligent. Now and then one or two came out stumbling, or were escorted to the cars by friends, walking in a similar manner. The bell in the tower chimed two. The door of the tavern opened and out walked three people. His breath caught in his throat as he espied a figure in red. He looked closely. There was a white scarf that had been used to cover the face. X waited to see the direction they would take. There were no cars and it would be easy for him to follow them if need be, and make the kill. Kill!!!! ‘I am going to murder. I am going to commit a cold-blooded murder’ thought X. Sudden perspiration flooded his brow. The image of his wife and his beloved son swam into focus. ‘They must live at any cost’ thought X, and again looked at the trio. They started walking in his direction. He took his gun and waited till they were out of the light streaming out of the tavern’s windows. The shot took the unsuspecting victim in the forehead. There was no sound. The victim dropped dead. Of the other two who were there, one swooned and dropped down. The other took to his heels towards the opposite direction. X had no thought of making another kill. He vaulted out of the cart, arranged the hay in order and walked calmly towards the victim. He had got a job and had finished it. He now would be able to live peacefully for some years. He wanted to go home soon. He knelt down by the body. He pulled the scarf which had become stained with the blood streaming from the smashed forehead. The scarf refused to come. He bent down and pulled the scarf firmly. It came smoothly. X looked at the face which so far had been hidden by the scarf. A sudden bolt of shock pierced his entire body. He gave a bestial growl that screamed disbelief. An agony of pain caused his entire body to convulse. The victim was his Beloved Son.