"Bang Bang You´re Dead" by Suzannah Carrick

Bang Bang You’re Dead

“Well I told him to hack the man to death, but he refused.” Jave was outraged.

“Just like that?” Morano demanded

“Just like that.”

“He’s got no compassion that man!  When we were young, things were different,” Morano laughed sadistically in recollection, “My, they were.  Capital punishment, wars left right and centre, a healthy bit of bloodshed.  None of this World Peace trash, none of this – ‘nobody fight each other’ nightmare.”

“That’s what I told him.”

Morano frowned, “What’s the world coming to, that’s what I’d like to know.”

“Dunno but it’s not good, that’s for sure,” snapped Jave.  He had a voice unfitting to his personality – the voice of a negotiator, a sidekick, a peacemaker.

The two men sat in silence, contemplating this bleak future. 

Both were slightly deaf, a memento from their time in the obliteration squad.  This information had appeared immediately Litch tapped their names into the database.  The two men believed themselves to be the only human organisms in the vicinity.  Litch knew differently.  Perched upon the chandelier above their heads, she listened to her ipod to subdue the boredom and engraved her initials on a handy candle.  For health and safety reasons she had shaved her head.  Thick black lashes framed eyes decorated with purple contacts, silvery gems marched down one cheek and russet paint slicked her lips.  Strings of glass beads pulled her linen clothes tight to her skin and prevented them from getting in the way.  She had a lithe, waif-like appearance, creamy skin and a knack for moving quickly.

            When five minutes had elapsed Morano decided that enough contemplation was enough.  Out of the two Litch decided he was the more genuine character.  She found Jave irritating beyond belief and the gun in her hand began to look tempting and relieving.

“Look,” said Morano, “Maybe if we write a well-worded letter?”

“Something tells me the World’s Peace Warden is going to have a pretty full postbag,” Jave moaned sarcastically, “What would we say anyway?”

“Complain about the lack of crime, suggest capital punishment for underperformers – that would make them sit up straight!  A nice bit of execution always goes down well with the rest of the workforce.  Makes them work harder, see.” Morano laughed and clapped his hands.

            Jave got up and began decanting some vitamin elixir from an ex-port bottle.  He passed Morano a glass.

“I wonder…” he mused, sitting down and fidgeting with a gadget on the table.

“Wonder what?” Morano demanded

“How he does it – how does the warden keep the whole world at peace?”

Morano scowled, “Public support.  People are dumb.”

“It’s unnatural,” Jave complained, “Peace isn’t natural to a human, like being a vegetarian, like drinking this stuff.” He waved the glass to illustrate his words and the elixir slopped onto the carpet.

            Busily making a paper aeroplane, Morano sighed wistfully, “Imagine seeing blood again.  Or a little bit of destruction – a broken window or – or a burnt out car…” his voice cracked and he broke off, leaning over the paper aeroplane so Jave would not see the tears in his eyes.

“You know what?” Jave exclaimed excitedly, like a child going on holiday.  Above his head, Litch lowered the volume on her ipod.

“We have to do something,” Jave finished, suddenly triumphant.

Morano sat up, the tear streak on his cheek glinting in the morning light, “Like what?”

            Quickly Litch removed the recorder from her belt, making the chandelier swing gently, and flipped the device on.

“Like a quiet rebellion – you know, underground.  We could cause our own little bit of devastation.  The media would be onto it like flies,” Jave smiled, his eyes taking on their old calculating look, illuminating his face with calm conviction.

Morano nodded gravely, “A wise plot my friend.  About time.”

            Litch sent the sound-bite to Peace headquarters with a hurried companion message.  AGENT LITCH WITHIN RANGE.  AGENT LITCH AWAITING AUTHORIZATION.

After a few moments the authorization light flashed red.  Suddenly businesslike, Litch pocketed the device and began counting slowly.

Ten, nine, eight…

Jave and Morano were laughing, slapping each other on the back with congratulation.  Coolly Litch regarded them.

Seven, six, five, four…

Their talking seemed to merge into the background as her focus took over.  Gently she pressed the gun’s inbuilt aim finder.

Three, two…

Hell Jave was an irritating man.

One.

            One shot.  One second it took her to swing down from the chandelier.  One man lay sprawled on the floor, with one wound in his chest.  One man leaned against the table and scowled in annoyance.

She turned to go.

He caught her arm, “Hey he was mine Litch!  I tipped off the Warden about him, I put on that brilliant act.  Did you see how good I was?  Peace Warden said I could have the kill – he promised.” His eyes were plaintive and childlike.

She scowled, jabbed him in the chest with her gun and snapped, “Warden told me to do it.  I did it.  It was nothing personal.”

She glanced at the body, “You’d better clean up.  Wouldn’t want some innocent citizen to find him.  The world’s at peace, remember…”