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What can I say? It feels like forever since I last posted anything, and in a way, it has. Recently I've just felt as though I've lost my drive for writing. It's not that I don't want to write; I do. It's just that I feel as though I've lost my direction. I've had writer's block before, but never quite to this degree... It's not for any specific reason either, which I find most annoying. If I could attribute this feeling to something, then I could hopefully aim to also remedy it, but not in this case... Ah well. Aside from this, life's great! Started a new job, had a few standup gigs and am just generally enjoying life. So, until I can get my drive back, I'm digging into the vaults of Craiggy brand creativity... This one's an old story project I started a few years back, so the writing style might not be what you'd expect, as I'd like to think I've developed a little as a writer, but I still like it on the whole. Let me know what you think?

Chapter 1

            ---Journal entry 01. Date: Classified. Time: Classified. --- I'm not sure what time it was when I finally woke up, the clock was flashing midnight, note to self... Fix clock. All I had was blurred memories of the previous week, all too hazy to be sure which were real and which were the last few remaining semi-conscious fantasies I had to enjoy before I truly considered myself "Awake". My guns lay on the table next to me; I picked one up, and as always, took a moment to thank her for the number of scrapes she and her sister had gotten me out of. I could tell by the weight that I had about eight bullets left in her. Not much, but it'd be enough, more than enough...

            If you're reading this, then you're probably confused already, it all sounds a bit cliché right? A man with a faded past, referring to his guns as "Her" and "Sisters"... Yeah, well, that was my life pretty much in a nutshell, one big cliché... Well, it was, until...

            There was a knock at my hotel room door, that was what woke me up I think. I hastily put on some pants and my long coat, hiding my guns underneath the flowing material in their interwoven holsters... You can never be too careful in this business I've found. Another knock, "Just a minute, you don't wanna see me naked do ya?!" I shouted as I made my way to the door, opened it about halfway... No one there, hmm, I looked down and stood there was the little girl from the room across from mine, no older than four, five tops, pink sunday summer dress and a big brown teddy to go with her big brown eyes... I paused for a moment; I could feel the blood rushing to my cheeks as I blushed, great... I just propositioned a child... What a way to start my day.

            Tears were streaming down her eyes, not recent ones, but it was clear that she'd not long since finished crying. She dropped her bear and wrapped her arms around my waist, well, I say waist, the sprout was so small, she could only reach part way up my thighs. I crouched down and looked her in her eyes, those big, brown, watery eyes "Mister, M-mister... Those bad men... Th-the bad m-men got my M-M-mommy..." Now, I didn't know this kid much at all, I barely even knew her Mother, only in passing... But something deep down struck a chord, maybe I'm just a sucker, maybe I'm too good for my own good... I'll never know, but one thing I knew for sure back there and then, and even to this day, that kid changed my life... Here's how the story goes.

            It wasn't long before the girl, who I now knew was called Cara, had taken me to the alleyway where her mother was beaten and taken away in a car, all she said was the car was blue... Which, needless to say didn't help me much. Cara and her mother were only up here for a few days visiting relatives from what she told me, her auntie was sick so she had come up to make her feel better her mother said, said that Cara was her favourite niece and seeing her always made her feel better... Cute, real cute... With what little money I could spare without going to the cash point, I hired an extra room for her to stay in, seeing as she was locked out of her own, I still hadn't figured out at this point why it was I was helping this little sprite and I knew it would be a while before I did, if I did at all...

            ---Journal entry 02 Date: Classified. Time: Classified. --- Night came, and, after a day of retracing the kid's steps with her Mom, I still had nothing, except a lighter wallet and aching feet. I made sure that she was all tucked away in her room and fast asleep before I went back to my own. I put my guns on my bedside table, more out of habit now than for any decent reason of them being close to hand, and then sat at the end of my bed, stared blankly at the ceiling and prayed, yeah... Again with the clichés, but I honestly did... and I know I ain't a religious guy or anything, infact, truth be told, church was probably near the bottom of my "To do" list, but even I could acknowledge the fact that I needed help on this one. S'funny, I still appreciate the irony, even to this day, infamous assassin like myself, repeatedly breaking one of if not the most famous of the commandments for a living... And I still asked the big guy for help. Funny huh. Yeah, that was the last thing I remember doing before waking up again, still with the same shadows running around in my mind... It was like they'd all decided to gang up on me and make fun, maybe it was just one big childish prank my mind was playing on me, or maybe it was my punishment for all the lives I've ended, yeah, that'd be it, a cursed life of torment to justify the lives that I'd ended... Yeah, great... Thanks for that, remind me to punch the Devil in the face for that one when I see him next.

            Usual routine, I checked my girls to see they're working fine, you know, the loader, the sight etcetera... Again, more out of habit now, I know they're more than fine, they've never failed me yet and they're not about to soon... I smiled as I held them up to the light, custom jobs both of them, Star and Phoenix, my girls, my guns, my life... Sad I know, but everyone has to have a hobby... Once again, Cara knocks on my door, this time I was expecting it, I can remember smiling as I opened the door, strange, don't remember doing that for a good few years, but something about her, about knowing I was doing good in helping her, even if there was nothing I could do at all... Just knowing that she felt reassured by my trying to help made me feel a heck of a lot better about myself... Poor kid, must be tough not knowing where you mother is... I can only just remember mine, at least, who I think was my Mom, again, just another of my "fuzzies" as I've come to less than affectionately refer to them. She reminds me of an angel, at least, what I think and angel would look like... My Mom I mean, not Cara... Aww man, listen to me, raving on about things I'm not even sure are my memories, I sound like a senile old fool! Heck, I'm barely twenty four!! She was wearing some clothes that I was guilted into buying for her yesterday, I checked my clock. DAMNIT!! Still not fixed it yet... Note to self, set the darn clock!! I checked my watch, it was coming up to noon... I looked down to her and smiled "Hey there kid.. Sleep well?" stupid question, kid's so worried about her Mom she probably didn't sleep at all... Try to think before you open you're big mouth in future Kal... I think the kid just humoured me with her reply, she just smiled and nodded, I invited her in and she sat on my bed, kicking her little feet as she hugged her teddy close to her chest... I was hoping to get some work done before she woke up, I'd planned on tapping into the hotel's CCTV tapes, I noticed there was a camera in the alleyway Cara took me to yesterday, boy was I hoping that it was still connected to the system...

            ---Journal entry 03. Date: Classified. Time: Classified.--- Cara ended up showing me where her Auntie and Uncle lived, I left her with them for the day, they didn't ask questions, they just assumed I was her Mom's new boyfriend or something, which suited me fine, the less questions asked, the less I had to lie about in front of the kid. I headed back to the hotel and cracked out my computer, using some gadgety gizmo thing I picked up in Tokyo that allowed me to plug into any phone line anonymously and charge it to some dude in Sweden, apparently, the guy's so rich, he doesn't even notice the extra missing money... Pretty sweet, but it also lets me tap into local networks, which is the main reason I got it. It shouldn't take me too long to find the security files and... Damnit, security files're locked up, passwords, firewalls, nothing major, but it could eat up some time. So here we are, I'm writing this as I set my computer to run an auto-decoder program, another gem I picked up in Tokyo, man I love that city... Cheap beer, cheap technology and plenty of jobs for a guy like me.

            I finally get access to the CCTV videos and check them out, whoa, lot of drug dealers and hookers use that alley, but that's beside the point. I finally find what I'm looking for, seems I'm dealing with total amateurs here... They're riding in a sky blue, soft top muscle car, very discreet. I jot down the plate details and close the network before anyone figures out I've even hacked them. It’s not long before I'm running searches on every car registry database I can find, legal or otherwise. "Damnit!!" could probably heard throughout the halls as I punched the wall in frustration, seems these "amateurs" were smarter than I gave them credit for, the damn car was a rental... Lousy smart-ass, lucky, damn amateurs! This was going to be harder than I thought...

            ---Journal entry 05. Date: Classified. Time: Classified.--- I tracked the car down to a shore side rental shop by the name of "Happy Larry's". The name almost made me puke, the stench of cheese was so strong... It was even worse when I actually got there. This place was so stereotypical, it actually physically hurt, neon sign outside with missing letters so it actually read "Hap----arr--s", nice, oh man, some of the cars were total wrecks, I was surprised they would even run. I had the kid with me, it was getting late and her Auntie's house had no spare rooms, hence her and her Mom staying in the hotel. I found myself speaking to the guy who owned the place, Larry, who, contrary to belief, was not all too happy... Infact, he was a short, balding, fat, sweaty guy with a bent Cuban cigar behind his ear and grease stains on his shirt, I make a mental note of his face, might need to remember it later, as much as I'd hate to. Something inside me just wanted to punch him in the face, there and then, but I didn't want to leave a bad influence on Cara. Poor kid. I asked the man if I could see his business records, giving him some bluff about how I was from the local tax office and that it was a surprise check... Naturally he asked about Cara, I just shrugged and said it was "Bring your kid to work day" and then went into a mumbled rant about the government being too lax on public schooling... He seemed to buy it as we went inside his shack of an office and placed three large, grubby looking ring binders on the desk in front of me, even with speed reading, it'd take me a good hour, hour and a half to find what I was looking for, and that was if I struck it lucky and found the car in the first file. Naturally, I didn't, it was about two thirds the way through the second file before I found my muscle car and its mystery driver, a man by the name of Arturo Wells. I memorize the name, credit card details and postal address, even though I get the feeling that it’s a fake.

            Well, I feel I'm close to getting somewhere, this'll probably be the last journal entry for a while as I get the hunch that I'll be out in the 'field' for the next few nights, I managed to arrange it with Cara's Uncle and Auntie that she can stay there for a few nights, its only a couch, but Cara doesn't mind. Poor kid, poor, tough little kid... Well, only one thing to do now, check out this address and see if that gets me anywhere.

---Journal End---

           

            I find myself walking through the streets, trying to find this address. I eventually get to the place... Derelict, great, though there's a group of street thugs around the side of the house, maybe they know something I think to myself. I headed closer to them, trying to keep it cool, not come off as offensive or a threat. "Hey there fellas, a little late to be loitering on private property don't you think?" Well, that certainly got their attention, a big surly bald guy who I swear in any decent cliché would be called either Bubba or Cueball stepped up to me, a good six inches taller than me, his accent clearly an attempt at Latin and his breath smelling of home-brewed Gin, "Yoo got a pro'lem homes?!" I couldn't help but smirk, probably not the best move as I found myself staring down the business end of a fist heading toward my face... Damn.

            Training kicks in, the whole area seems to slow down around me as I duck under his breezeblock sized fist, moving my right arm to latch under his and my hand to rest upon his left shoulder, I step behind with my right leg, classic Judo trip, but instead of just that, I add my own little flare for the dramatic and roll my body so he slides over my back and is pretty much vertical when his head hits the ground. Boy he's going to feel that one in the morning... Whichever one he wakes up on... I stand and the scene shifts back to normal, not even breaking a sweat. The other thugs don't know weather they should run or just stand there wetting their parachute pants... Some do both. I catch one and force him up against the wall and with my free hand, flick some hair out of my face and a few loose dreads out of his so I can get a good look at who I'm questioning. "Okay... 'Homes', you going to tell me what goes on in this building and why they've got such a quick to react if a little slow to think security force of street punks guarding it? Or do you want to end up with a face full of gravel and a skull full of mush like your buddy over there?!" It worked, not only did he let me know about a little drug running operation they had out of this building and that they worked for a man known only as "A", but he was also kind enough to get my new watch wet with his whining and weeping. Quick jaw blow and he's down, I look to my previous opponent and smirk as I can just picture the devil and angel appearing on my shoulders, both saying the same thing... I can't resist, I plant this guy with his hands and nose on his boss's butt, take a moment to chuckle and then head inside, hoping to find something a little more challenging than wannabe G's. And once again, I find myself praying, though subconsciously this time. Praying that I'll see the night through and get Cara back to her Mom... Weird...

Yeah, longer than what I'd normally aim for on this site, but hopefully not too long to be considered boring...

Adios for now,

Craiggy.