The Gon

The Gon

I opened my eyes, and it was there on the table by the bed looking at me. Dark, foreboding, dangerous, I had a job.

Where it came from, how it arrived, I never knew and there was no one to ask.

As usual there was a card with it, just a place date and time nothing else, Alperton station eighteen hundred hours, I knew better than to be late.

I dressed nondescript to blend in with the rest of the commuters, and then leaving it to sleep on the table, I went to case the station. I had never been there before, just a normal busy underground station, and would be even more so this evening in the rush hour.

I hated these jobs, it was always there sleeping on the table when I opened my eyes. How it came and how it went I had never been able to discover, but it always meant a job.

It was there waiting, dark, deadly and ready. I knew there would be just the one take, there never was more, and I had been chosen to do it. Chosen I say by Whom, or even What, I had no idea.

Now it was in my pocket cold and hard as I made my way towards the platform. A place just off the passage was where it took me to, to wait. A train pulled in and the doors opened. It was in my hand waiting as the embarked passengers hurried for the exit.

A man dressed in jeans with a back pack over his shoulder was coming my way, and it was in my hand pointing. One Bang just the one, I had never known more and the man fell. As I turned to leave I was stopped by two constables who had probably seen what had happened. Held and searched. I knew they would find nothing. It had returned to whatever place it came from, my hand would be clean so there would be no evidence.

It was two hours’ before they said I could go. No weapon, no reason just that I was there as I had been on the six other shootings.

The dead man with a back pack full of explosives bolts and nails, well I was never even thanked.