Blade

This flash fiction piece was written as a story companion to the day 5 drawing prompt Blade from the 2020 Inktober prompt list. Click here to see the drawing.

The knife blades made a sharp, whistling sound as they sailed through the air toward their target.

“I wish you wouldn’t do that while I was trying to sew you up,” Sonia complained.

James shrugged, and then hissed, given the wound was on his left shoulder and Sonia was trying to feed the suture through it just then.

“But it’s your shoulder, I guess.”

James threw another blade and hit the bullseye. “Bloody right.”

“If you’d only been that accurate when the police officer was in front of you.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Just saying, ten years ago you wouldn’t have missed by an inch, let alone five.”

“Maybe I’m getting old.”

“There’s no maybe about that.”

James hissed again.

“Why didn’t you swipe any morphine last time you raided the hospital?”

“You don’t deserve morphine.”

Another toss, another thud of a knife in the target board. Sonia worked in silence for a few minutes, and the air in the abandoned kitchen was filled only with the swishing of blades through the air.

They squatted here whenever they had work in Belarus. Just a little row house, at the end of a block, with chipped, white subway tiles and busted bed frames. Sonia didn’t mind. It was homier than any place she’d ever grown up in, anyway. Who knew about James, but she got the feeling he was used to finer things than this, especially when his nose turned up at having to tip the bucket they used as a chamber pot out the back window.

Their lost job had gone bad. Terribly, awfully bad. The guy they’d hired to tip them off when the police were headed over had actually fallen asleep. Last time she’ll be trusting James with the hiring, that’s for sure. It was supposed to be a simple in and out, just grab the jewelry off the bureau in the bedroom, but, of course, once they got there, James had to show off.

“We’re not here to kill anyone, James!” Sonia had hissed through her teeth.

“Yeah, but it doesn’t hurt to check.”

“What, if some poor idiot is napping in the drawing room so you can satisfy your blood lust? Not exactly an impressive stat for the so-called ‘world’s best assassin.’”

That’s when James had given her that look … that the next one I kill could be you if you don’t keep your mouth shut look. It almost made her laugh, every time he tried it. Just because Sonia wasn’t a show-off didn’t mean she wasn’t the actual world’s best assassin.

She certainly wouldn’t have missed the policeman’s heart, that’s for sure, even if she hadn’t had her own knives. That’s what James was always saying. Oh, if I just had my knives. Wait until I get my set of blades, then you’ll see. Sonia never said it out loud because she liked the skin over her throat too much, but, frankly, if you’re only as good as your tools, you’re not much of a killer.

Biting through the thread, Sonia tied off the suture as best she could, and maybe a little tighter than she needed to, judging by the hiss that issued from James’ mouth.

“I think you enjoyed digging that bullet out a little too much.”

“Maybe I did,” Sonia started packing up her first aid supplies. They were running low on needles, but they had plenty of everything else — including morphine, although James didn’t need to know about that. If he wouldn’t listen to reason, she had to find other ways to punish him. Imagine being 37-years-old, an internationally renowned assassin, and still acting like a kindergartner.

“So, how much did we pull?”

“You mean, how much did I manage to bag after you and your crack look-out nearly botched the whole thing?”

Swish. This time the knife blade went straight past Sonia's ear. She almost felt it. Without flinching, she looked up from the table with just her eyes.

“I take it that time you missed on purpose?”

James’ entire face was red. He really didn’t like to be insulted, even when he deserved it. Especially when he deserved it.

“I don’t wanna keep hearing about what went wrong on this job.”

“You mean, what you did wrong?”

Another swish, on the other side. This time she did feel it, as well as the drops of blood on her shoulder from the minuscule cut he inflicted on the top of her ear. He really was a surgeon with those blades, which made Sonia wonder … how did he miss that policeman’s heart so completely? Usually, if James wanted you dead, you were already buried. Which must have meant … he hadn’t wanted the policeman dead.

Her heart was pounding, going over the scene in her mind. James, standing between her and the police, twirling his knives like a show pony, and the police hesitating at least twice as long as any officer worth his salt would ever do. She’d been so busy trying to grab as many necklaces and tennis bracelets as she could, she hadn’t had time to process what was going on in the corner of her eye. The almost imperceptible nod from the cop toward James, and James, throwing the knife with just as much precision as always, only the blade landing in the cop’s arm instead of his chest. Then, the officer’s gun going off and James shouting in surprise … almost like he hadn’t expected to be the one who got shot.

Sonia should have known. James had never been the partner type. And he so loved to tell her all the ways he could kill her. It was one of his favorite ways to pass the time. She didn’t mind. If he’d ever really wanted her dead, she’d have killed him before he knew she’d decided to. Like now, for instance.

James was standing in the middle of their little Belarus hide-out, tossing his favorite blade up and down in his hand, murder in his eyes.

“Oh, I see,” Sonia slowly set down the bag she’d been putting her medical supplies away in. “That bullet I dug out of your shoulder was meant for me?”

He laughed, rapacious and ugly, and continued hefting his blade.

“Plan went a little awry, but that’s what I get for leaving the hiring to the last minute. And I certainly wasn’t gonna kill my best nurse before she fixed me up.”

Sonia saw every little twitch in his rat-like face, every minuscule calculation of where the knife should go, of her movements, of how long it would take her to grab the gun she left on the counter. She sat perfectly still, ear dripping blood freely now. I just had to wear my white coat today, she thought as James, lighting fast, threw his knife.

Bang!

He fell back with a crash, over a folding chair, and slumped against the wall, already dead, knife still in hand. His nice suit mussed by the bullet hole over his heart.

Sonia stood and walked over to him, crouching to take the blade that never had a chance to leave his hand.

“I knew you were stupid, James, but I never though you were stupid enough to think I wouldn’t wear an ankle holster.”

Packing up her bag to leave, Sonia hummed to herself. She’d never really been a partner person, either. And now, she had her very own set of perfectly sharpened throwing blades.

All in all, not a bad day.