Elle waited impatiently for a reply. She didn't expect Bluebird to get back to her instantaneously, but she still found herself reloading her inbox every few minutes.

Eventually, Elle had left her office to meet with another of her contacts. She'd decided to get a whole new outfit fashioned for this job.

Two mercenary contracts, one after the other, in two close hotels, was suspicious. It would be a risky job. She wanted to lower her chances of being caught as much as she could.

Elle had used this method for as long as she could remember, and it had only ever failed her once. That time, she'd stupidly forgotten the wig she had been supposed to adorn after the kill, and so had been more easily traceable. She hadn't had the time to clear her trail, and had come very close to being caught.

It felt like so long ago, like such a rookie mistake. Elle knew better than to get cocky about this kind of operation. Rookie mistakes could happen to anyone. She couldn't let anything go wrong again, not if she wanted to remain free.

By the time she'd returned from the meet-up, hung up her coat, and pulled her laptop out of its sleep, her inbox alerted her to one new mail.

Elle opened it quickly, and read through the message with the ghost of a smile on her face. She held a small burgundy cartridge of .45 ACP bullets in her left hand. She'd picked them up at the meeting for her new purchase. It was still in the box beneath the table. Elle had decided it was better if it stayed there, for now anyway. She knelt down and pushed the ammunition into the packing peanuts with it.

Elle skimmed over the message again once she'd stood up. It wasn't that it was a lot to take in, she was just shocked that she'd been answered so quickly, by someone she hadn't spoken to in nearly a decade.

Dear Riviera,

A true bird never loses its wings. I grace the skies higher than ever before.

What brings you to my nest once again? It's been quite some time.

She began to type her reply immediately. Bluebird had helped her back when the mercenary business had been her life. He'd given her tips, diverted the police from her tracks through various measures that were never actually shared with her, and even directed her towards a couple of sellers over the years.

Dear Bluebird,

The same thing that brought me towards it in the first place. The sky has reddened once again, recently, and I wonder if the bats are following the sun?"

It took longer to write this message. It was difficult to remember all of the codewords preferred by different clients.

She knew for sure that mercenary contracts had been 'red sky', but had the police been crows, or bats? It was difficult to convey which case she meant exactly, but there had been no news of other murders since that night that Elle was aware of. She guessed it was safe to assume Darius was still the hottest media topic, even if there had been no official report released. That meant he was still the freshest news.

Bluebird had once been one of her most common contacts, but that had still been years and years ago. It had taken a few moments for Elle's memory to kick in.

Bluebird's reply took longer to come through, too. They'd made this code together back then. She wondered if he was facing the same difficulties that she was.

Dear Riviera,

The bats are quick to leave their caves. They chase the sun with increasing success. The sky may soon turn blue, should they catch up.

Of course, the sun could be covered by the clouds at any time. Does this seem likely?

Elle pursed her lips. So, they were onto her? That was never a good sign. She could guess what the consequences would be for her if they did. It wasn't good.

The 'clouds' were the action that Bluebird could take, to slow down or halt their progress altogether. There would be a price, as there always was, but in her current financial situation, Elle was sure she could afford whatever it was.

Dear Bluebird,

There are clouds on the horizon. They continue 6000 miles across the open plains. Can a weather report be gathered?

She frowned. No, something was missing. She had to tell him that Darius wasn't her only contract.

The sky is due burning again soon.

Elle read over the message three times before she clicked send. £6000 sounded like a good amount for information. Bluebird's rates had always been fair, and by current market standards, she was sure that would suffice.

His reply brought a real smile to her face.

Dear Riviera,

A suitable distance to eclipse the entirety of the sun. I'll see what I can find. The details will be flown to you on wings of blue. No other.

Hopefully, the plains won't go up in flames.

Elle exhaled. She'd have to trust Bluebird, just as she had many times before. She'd never been without a contingency plan, however.

This time, it would be more difficult. The last time she'd been in this situation, she hadn't had kids, or a family. She'd left the country for a while multiple times, while she sorted through her money and contacts; there were always contacts to attend to.

Contacting Bluebird at all had been a risk. A calculated risk, sure, but a risk all the same.

Elle closed the laptop before she had the chance to think about it any further. The screen flickered off.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Over the next few days, Elle prepared for the murder of Tobias Wallace. There were many final preparations to attend to, but by Wednesday morning, she had everything she thought she'd need.

Now, it was just a matter of following through with the plan.

At five past three on Wednesday afternoon, Elle made a phone call. She sat in Victoria Park, with a cheese sandwich in on hand, and her phone in the other.

It was a small park, with a playground for children, and some gorgeous flower arrangements. She'd been to it quite a lot over the last twenty years. Her own children had loved to run through the place.

She used an older style white flip-phone to make the call. It would serve as a burner phone for today. She would clear and throw it away tomorrow.

After four rings, a low-pitched masculine voice spoke over the line. "This is Tobias Wallace, who is calling?"

"Hi, Tobias! It's Nicole." She hoped he'd remember her.

There was silence for a few seconds. "Nicole! How lovely to... to hear from you again." Once again, he sounded flustered. "To what do I owe the pleasure of this call?"

Elle laughed softly. "Well, I was wondering if we could maybe go and get drinks together tonight?"

"Tonight? Oh, I'm supposed to spend tonight in the lounge," he paused, "perhaps you would like to join me? They have some marvellous festivities down there." He offered.

Elle nodded although he couldn't see her. She took a bite of her sandwich. It was half finished. "That sounds splendid. Would 7 o' clock be an okay time to come down?" Any earlier than that, and she wouldn't have the advantage of night on her side.

"That sounds just perfect! I look forwards to seeing you then. Goodbye for now, Nicole." He ended the call.

Elle closed the phone over. She'd bought it six days previous on a week-long contract. Once that was up, it would be going straight in the bin.

Elle sat on the wooden bench for a while, eating her sandwich in the peace of the birdsong and muffled squealing of younger children.

She enjoyed people watching, sometimes. It was nice to sit and move out of her own life, to imagine and observe the quiet lives of others she'd never spoken to before.

She watched as an old woman, her back bent with age and her hair as grey as the clouds above her, shambled past with a walking stick. She wore an ironed dress, tan coloured tights, and cream flat shoes.

She seemed to Elle like someone who had once been very important. Perhaps a manageress. It was odd to think that someday, that could be Elle too.

She watched the woman until she was gone – hidden by a cluster of rhododendron bushes in full flower.

Her husband liked rhododendrons; Elle remembered with a smile. Things had been difficult in her marriage for a number of years, but they'd made it work. They had to, for the kids, and for them. She brushed that train of thought off of the track. There were more important things than her marriage to be thinking about now.

Elle stood up and wiped the bench free of crumbs. She tossed her sandwich wrapper in a nearby bin. Now all there was left to do was get ready. The wig had been ordered in plenty of time, and sat in one of the filing cabinets of Elle's office. Everything was prepared and set up.

Her planning contact had replied within two days. They'd sent detailed plans of the hotel's layout, including cameras and exits.

There were more cameras in the Fadwick than there had been in the Marbaya, as Elle had expected. They were also newer, apparently.

There were none in the lounge however, since it was a private area, and there were none out the back entrances of the hotel. This would be a more difficult operation, but Elle knew she could do it. It had to be done.

On Thursday night, at ten to midnight, Elle lay on the bed of a hotel room she'd rented out just an hour before. She held an opened bottle of Merlot wine in her right hand. She stared up at the ceiling, her eyes glazed.

The second contract had been completed, and now the stress of the whole thing had been eased from her shoulders. Drink to that. She raised the bottle and then pulled her head up from the soft mattress so she could take a drink. It dripped down the side of the bottle when she turned it back upright. It tasted sweet, fruity. Merlot had been her favourite wine for a long time.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It had been more difficult to find a secluded place this time, with some form of beverage or food, in order to administer the hydrogen cyanide. She'd brought along a syringe, equipped with a three-inch-long, slim needle. Just in case. She couldn't count on the right oral poisoning opportunity to come around. A back up plan was always a necessity. Her success with Darius McGallogat had been luck alone. She'd had no idea he was going to leave the room.

Elle had arrived at the hotel lobby by half past seven. She met with Tobias by the front desk. He hadn't been nearly as confident or as charming as Darius, but he was nice, kind in a way that she found more appealing than the other's looks.

The lounge had been full of people, all of them at least mildly intoxicated. There had been a man passed out on the floor, huddling a bottle to his chest in the foetal position. No one had paid him much attention for a while, but Tobias had eventually alerted the staff.

They'd sat together on a couch in the lounge for an hour or so, discussing various things. Other people joined in readily, but for the most part Tobias was left to himself, which made connecting with him all the easier. Tobias had become more comfortable around Elle as the night had worn on. That was exactly what she needed.

Eventually, Tobias had asked if Elle wanted to go to his room, or maybe downstairs to the disco hall. She'd said the disco hall. It was 9:06pm. She had to start getting a move on.

When Elle had scoped the hotel out, she hadn't had a chance to check out the disco hall. Usually, she would've hired a room for a day and made her way through as much of the hotel as she could well before the contract came around. This time, there had been no rooms available, and so she'd only been able to see what was available to visitors, rather than guests.

From the floor plans her contact had sent her however, Elle had an idea of the basic layout of the disco hall. It seemed much smaller than the hall of the Marbaya had been, but it also had more space around the outsides, for sitting and for getting a breath further away from the music. If luck was on her side, the tables wouldn't be too busy, and it would be too dark to see everything properly.

As it was, the disco hall was lit up by little else aside from a couple of strobe lights. Nineties music blared without pause. The lights flickered a myriad of colours, painting the wall with patterns and shots of red, green, and blue. It was almost hypnotising.

There was a huge black sign strung high on the wall with silver writing. It read '90's Revival Night 5pm-1am'.

Elle had been a fan of the nineties, music wise. It was nice to hear some of her old favourites again, even if some of them had been adapted into crude remixes.

Tobias seemed too shy to ask Elle to dance, and so they sat at one of the tables. It was far over to the left-hand side of the hall, almost obscured by darkness.

There was a strip of flashing blue lights on the wall, which allowed for some visibility, but not very much. Tobias ordered drinks and peanuts from the bar. He hadn't actually asked Elle what she'd wanted, but his choice of a Pina colada was more than acceptable in Elle's opinion.

She wore black leather gloves this time, and a dark blue purse that was big enough to hold her burner phone, the syringe, an outfit change, and the capsule of cyanide. It was a fashionable item that she'd bought just days before for this specific job. Looking around, Elle could see that she wasn't the only one sporting such a purse. Her dress was the same shade of blue as the purse.

While he'd been gone, Elle had shuffled her chair around next to Tobias', so she was less than a foot away from him. He noticed when he returned. She could tell by the slight double take he made when he neared the table.

There were too many people around, and Tobias was too observant, Elle had decided, for her to drop anything into his drink unnoticed.

So, she'd went for the syringe. It had been difficult to see in the dark, but Elle had successfully managed to slip the needle into the cyanide capsule and fill it till it was a quarter full. There was 250mg of cyanide in the package. She would need to administer at least 140mg to reach the fatal 1.5mg/kg dose.

The syringe appeared small. It had a volume of 1ml, which was more than enough for what Elle needed. Cyanide was concentrated. 0.25ml contained 250mg of the liquid. That was almost double what she needed.

When Tobias returned, Elle had the syringe in her lap beneath the table. She leaned towards him slightly, her other hand moving to his knee. She saw Tobias go completely rigid from that simple touch alone. He wasn't very experienced at this sort of thing. He looked over at Elle as if she was mad, his cheeks reddening from embarrassment. He made no move to stop her, and instead began to caress her cheek with his hand. He did this very hesitantly. She could feel his arm shaking.

Elle moved her hand further up his leg, and then stopped, at around his mid-thigh. She ran her hand over the material of his suit trousers, exploring the curve of his leg, searching for the femoral artery she needed. All the while, Elle kept her eyes on Tobias' face. She bit her lip ever so slightly.

Eventually, she was satisfied that she'd found the right place. It was near the groin, on the inside of the leg. She kept her hand where it was, and guided her other hand to the spot.

Then, she jabbed the needle into his skin, pushed the plunger down till it would go no further, and pulled it out again. Tobias jumped in surprise. His wine sloshed in its glass. A drip slid down the side.

Tobias rubbed his leg with the hand that had been caressing Elle's cheek. She moved her hand back to his knee. "Sorry, was that too rough?" She asked him with a smile. A few seconds, just seconds till it kicked in.

Elle sat back in her chair. She opened her purse, put the syringe back into the small brown paper bag it had been in previously, and took a hair tie out of her purse while she did so. She slipped the tie over her wrist.

She zipped it back up while Tobias replied. He stuttered over each word. "No. It was...nice. I was not expecting such a... a bold action." It wasn't just embarrassment that was affecting him. Tobias swayed where he sat. His eyes appeared to have trouble focusing. He swayed forwards, bracing himself against the table. Elle moved the wine glass out of the way. She had yet to touch the Pina colada.

Tobias stared straight ahead. His eyes fluttered and his mouth opened like a fish gasping for air. His chest heaved for what felt to Elle like hours. Then, his eyes closed altogether, and his grip on the table slackened. She chose then to leave. Elle patted Tobias on the head before she walked away. If anyone was watching, it would seem like he'd passed out from alcohol consumption. No one would be able to see how cherry-red the poor businessman's face had turned.

Elle walked towards the bathroom, and into an open stall. There had been three women at the sink, applying lipstick and fixing their hair.

Once inside the stall, Elle turned to the toilet. She opened her purse and removed the paper bag. She removed the needle from the syringe and threw both into the toilet bowl. She scrunched the bag into a ball and placed it back inside her purse. Elle waved her hand in front of the censor, and watched as the toilet flushed. The whole syringe disappeared down the pipe.

Next, Elle undid her dress and removed her shoes. She closed the lid of the toilet and chucked all three items upon it. She removed a hastily ironed, lace-sleeved white dress from her purse and put it on. She tied her hair into a flat bun, and slid a pair of two-inch-high heels on. She swapped her wig for one she'd also bought recently. It was grey, with black, curled ends. Elle removed her brown contact lenses and dropped them into the paper bag.

Satisfied that she had changed everything, Elle folded the dress she'd removed, placed the wig on the middle of it, and put both in her bag. She arranged the shoes so they fit in nicely as well, and only then did she unlock the door and leave. Elle turned around once she'd left the stall. There was nothing on the floor, she hadn't left anything behind. She forced herself to relax.

She took the paper bag out of her purse and chucked it into a bin just beside a row of ornate sinks. She looked at herself in the mirror, to make sure there was nothing amiss. Then, Elle walked back out the door.

She weaved through the edges of the crowd of dancers. They laughed and cheered. Some of them stood in a daze, shuffling their weight from foot to foot, their eyes closed, head tilted back to the ceiling. Some of them mouthed the words to the music.

Elle chanced a glance at Tobias' table. He still lay slouched across it. There was a waiter standing above him. He shook Tobias' shoulder. There was no response of course. The waiter looked up, searching for another member of staff. He scanned the crowd, looked back at Tobias, and then strode off. Elle looked away.

She walked at a steady, casual pace. She walked alongside a group of five or so intoxicated men and women, and turned away from them only once they'd cleared the lobby.

It was raining heavily. Elle stood under a glass canopy outside the singular set of double doors. She had no jacket, and no change for a taxi. She looked both left and right, and then made a decision. She wouldn't be going home tonight.

It was about time she celebrated these successes. They had both gone amazingly.

Elle checked her phone. The time read 21:44. There was an off-license not far from here, if memory served her correctly.

Elle stepped out of the safety of the canopy, and began to walk once again. Rain ran over her in a furious waterfall. Within seconds, she was drenched through. If only she'd had the forethought to bring a coat.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She'd been paid an admirable £25,000 for the kill after evidence of the businessman's death had been confirmed, which was more than the initial agreement had been.

Elle didn't care so much about the money. It was a nice bonus, but all it really served was to further her business, provide for her family, and to cover any travel expenses that came with the contract. Drink to that, too, she thought.

Elle sat up in the bed. She swung herself around and leaned back against the headboard. The wine swirled in her hand. She brought the bottle to her lips, and took a long, deep slug. She dropped the bottle onto the sideboard. There were only dregs left within it.

Killing Tobias Wallace had been harder than killing Darius McGallogat in a number of ways, and yet she'd still achieved it in the end. Elle was proud of herself. A swirling bolt of joy shot through her. She was glad she'd become involved in this part of the life again.