His employers had been very specific on what they wanted: a quiet takedown with minimal fuss. That meant getting up close and personal with his target, which wasn’t going to be easy. His target was Nicholas Mikalova, a rich drug lord who’d made a lot of enemies over the years. As such, the man had invested heavily in his personal security. His residence was well protected by both highly trained personnel and state of the art equipment; almost nothing could get in undetected, almost. Mikalova’s security was good, but he was better. After making sure that the real Mrs. Mikalova would not be making any unexpected appearances any time soon, he’d set to work. Disguised as Mikalova’s beautiful, young wife, no one had even bothered to stop him as he made his way past the main gate and through the front door.

Mikalova himself had bought into his ruse, allowing his ‘wife’ to lead him away from prying eyes and into the privacy of their bedroom, where they would not be disturbed. The rest had been child’s play. In the morning, the coroner’s report would state that Nicholas Mikalova had died of a severe myocardial infarction, something that was not unusual given his age. A few weeks later, his grieving ‘wife’, who was the sole beneficiary of his will, would disappear along with the millions she had inherited, leading the tabloids to scream scandal, but by then it would be too late. The money would be sitting safely in an account in the Caymans and he would be far away, somewhere in the South Pacific, enjoying the first celebratory Mai Tai of his retirement.

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