THE TARGET

Walking down the snow-covered path, Nicole radiates a sense of confidence and self-assurance. She instinctively pulls her luxurious navy blue wool coat tightly around her frame, feeling its soft warmth envelop her in the midst of the harsh winter wind. Her coat was a testament to her current persona’s impeccable taste, made of high-quality materials and tailored to perfection.

She continued walking feeling the crunch of the snow under her Italian leather boots. The boots were both stylish and practical, designed to provide both comfort and protection in the snowy weather. With every step, she feels more confident and capable.

As Nicole passes through the ornate wrought iron gates and approaches the grand front door of the imposing Chelsea townhouse, she makes a conscious effort to blend in with her surroundings.

A decade ago, Nicole would have felt completely out of place in the opulent environs of the wealthy neighbourhood. Having grown up in a small family home in a nondescript suburban town north of London, she lacked the experience and exposure to the high society that surrounds her now. Her elder brother Jason, who was eight years her senior, had largely raised her, given their parents' neglect and lack of interest in their children's upbringing. Nicole's closeness to her brother was unique, given her aversion to socializing with others. Despite her challenging upbringing, Nicole had developed a fierce independence and self-reliance that served her well in her current career.

Over the years, she’d developed an astute sense of how to adapt her persona and appearance to suit any environment. She knew that in order to complete her assignments successfully, she had to be strategic and intuitive, and ready to adjust to whatever circumstances presented themselves.

Whether she was in a rough neighbourhood, drinking pints at local pubs, or brushing shoulders with the so-called elite in Chelsea wine bars, Nicole had a natural ability to blend in and make herself comfortable in any setting. Her experience had taught her to be quick on her feet, ready to change her demeanour at a moment's notice to suit the needs of the situation.

But for all her skill and experience, Nicole knew that there were some challenges that could not be overcome through appearance alone. She knew that success in her line of work required a deeper level of intuition and understanding, a willingness to patiently observe, and a keen ability to listen and read between the lines.

The usually bustling street was deserted, the late hour leaving only intermittent, dull streetlights spread out every 20 feet and the distant hum of passing vehicles a few streets away. Taking a deep breath, Nicole pauses for a moment, composing herself before springing into action. With practised ease, she reaches into her front jacket pocket to retrieve a lock-picking set knowing that time was of the essence, and that every second counted.

The rich are so oblivious.

With a quick twist of her lock-picking set and a satisfying click, the door creaks open. She couldn't help but smile at the naivety of her target's security system, given his high position in society. After a few moments of silence, she is satisfied that there are no alarms or movement to signal her intrusion so she slips inside the dimly lit foyer with practised ease. The luxurious lifestyle of her target was evident from the extravagant statues and boutique furniture scattered throughout the living and dining areas.

On the entry table, a standalone framed photo of her target rests prominently, catching Nicole's attention. She had become intimately familiar with his features after weeks of intensive surveillance. Nicole prides herself on learning as much as possible about the targets she is assigned, even if that means tailing them discreetly to gentlemen's clubs and large demonstrations where emasculated men shout their hatred towards women and society at large.

Nicole moves with a confident stride through the grand lobby, her familiarity with the home's layout evident as she counts five paces before making a left turn through an arched doorway that leads to the expansive kitchen. She comes to a halt in front of the impressive American fridge freezer.

With a quick flex of her tight leather gloves - a habit she has developed over the years - she prepares herself for the next step. Without hesitation, she swings open the fridge door and reaches inside, her fingers wrapping around a large glass jar of freshly prepared oatmeal yoghurt. With ease, she retrieves the jar and places it gently on the smooth granite island behind her.

Nicole had found this particular assignment refreshingly straightforward. Her target had made a public spectacle of himself, taking to Twitter to bemoan American Airlines’ mistake in serving him mixed nuts with his first-class meal, despite informing the stewardess of his life-threatening allergy. She was no stranger to her target's penchant for drama, but she didn't take any chances as she spent time confirming the truth of his claims. To her surprise, she found him using an epi-pen at a local rally after shaking hands with a man who had recently eaten nuts, a rare moment of honesty for the typically deceitful man. With that confirmation, Nicole had no doubt about how to execute her mission.

Moving swiftly, Nicole’s fingers deftly unzip the pocket at the top of her jacket to reveal a small pouch of crushed brown powder. She shook the pouch gently, the fine grains of the substance settling in the bottom before pouring them over the top of the oatmeal, the similar colour of the powder blending in seamlessly with the breakfast dish.

With a nod of satisfaction at the sight before her, Nicole carefully replaces the pouch in her pocket and takes a moment to survey the perfectly arranged contents of the fridge before she reaches for the jar of yoghurt, returning it to its exact position. Content that everything was exactly as it had been before she arrived, she closes the fridge door with a gentle click, the sound barely registering in quiet surroundings.

Nicole's focus shifts to the next step of her plan - retrieving the device she needed from his briefcase where she’s observed him place the device several times throughout her survailance. With determined strides, she closes the short distance to the case and unbuckles the strap. Without hesitating, she reaches inside, her fingers deftly locating the small bag holding the crucial item. Unzipping the bag, she retrieves the epi-pen and tucks it securely into her jacket pocket. Satisfied that the device was now in her possession, she carefully returns the bag to the briefcase and re-fastens the buckle.

Straightening up, her movements swift and controlled, her senses on high alert for any sign of danger. Quickly scanning her surroundings, taking in the meticulously organized kitchen and the immaculate interior of the home, her sharp eyes search for any trace of her presence. Happy that everything was exactly as it had been before she arrived, she made her way towards the front door, her steps measured and sure. Slowly opening the door and stepping out into the cool night air, the sound of the lock clicking softly into place as she closed the door behind her. Nicole allowed herself a small smile of satisfaction - she had completed her mission with flawless precision, leaving no trace of her presence behind.

Easy peasy.

——

Twisting off the lid of a pre-workout tub, Nicole’s muscles flexed with anticipation as she scoops two generous servings into her drink shaker. With a deft twist of her wrist, she re-secures the top and shakes the container with brief intensity, the sound of the contents against the plastic echoing in the otherwise silent room.

Grabbing a hand towel, she strides towards the small home gym in the basement of her property, her heart pounding with excitement as she takes in the sight of the gleaming Peloton bike, the sleek running machine, and the set of heavy free weights. Climbing onto the bike, she prepares to push herself to the limit. With a deep breath, she begins to pedal, the rhythmic motion of the bike propelling her forward into a world of pure physical exertion.

Programming the machine to the ideal speed and resistance, Nicole feels the familiar burn building in her powerful thighs as she settles into a steady rhythm. As she pedals with increasing intensity, she turns her attention to the massive 65" flatscreen TV looming above her, its endless stream of news headlines and commentary flickering across the screen. Despite the constant barrage of information, there was little that caught her attention - just a few mundane reports about a recent warehouse fire in a distant suburb, weather predictions for the coming week, and the usual political squabbling and Brexit debates that seem to dominate the airwaves. With a mental shrug, she tunes out the noise and focuses on the physical exertians of her workout, pushing herself harder and harder with each passing second.

Lost in the rhythm of her workout, Nicole's mind begins to drift, her focus honed on the feeling of her muscles stretching and contracting with each repetition. After an hour of cycling, she moves on to a series of free-weight routines, methodically working through a rep of bicep curls with intensity. Pausing to take a sip of water and catch her breath, she is suddenly jolted back to reality at the sound of a breaking news report blaring from the TV.

"Breaking news just in: we have received reports that Niall Barage, the controversial British Nationalist Party MP, has passed away this morning," the news anchor declares, his voice grave and solemn.

Another one bites the dust.

Despite her usually cold and detatched approach to her assignments, a small, satisfied smirk plays at the corners of Nicole's lips as she processes the news of Barage's passing. She couldn't help but feel a sense of pride in her work, knowing that she is responsible for bringing an end to someone who has caused so much pain and destruction with their words and actions.

As the camera zooms in on the sombre faces of the paramedics, Nicole feels a small sense of satisfaction and amusement at the irony of the situation as the reporter continues, “we’re hearing that Barage’s cause of death was due to a severe allergic reaction.” She knows that the cause of death was not an accident, but rather the carefully planned and executed actions she had taken the night before.

But even as she savours the moment, she knows that it is a fleeting one. She has a workout to do, and she can’t afford to get distracted by her emotions. Pushing aside any further thoughts about Barage, she turns her attention back to her workout, eager to finish it and move on to the next task at hand.

Placing her shaker down on a nearby table, Nicole takes a quick glance at the clock and decides to switch the TV to the sports channel, hoping to prevent herself from further distractions. As she picks up the weights again, she focuses on her form and technique, letting the repetitive motion calm her nerves. The sound of the sports commentator's voice fills the room, but Nicole tunes it out as she loses herself in the rhythm of the workout.

As Nicole begins to wind down her daily routine and moves towards a nearby yoga mat to stretch her limbs, her phone suddenly shatters the previously peaceful silence that was only filled by the muted commentary of the sports report. She reaches into her gym shorts and retrieves her mobile, glancing at the screen to see a private number displayed.

Nicole's heart races slightly as she accepts the call from a blank screen, quickly ending her stretching routine to give the conversation her full attention. She holds her breath as the robotic voice on the other end congratulates her, “Ms. Haught. Well done for completing your assignment on time and discreetly. It appears everything went according to plan”.

As the robotic voice confirms the completion of her mission, Nicole’s smile widens. The satisfaction of a job well done fills her with a sense of pride, a sense of accomplishment that can only come from the completion of an assignment. She grunts a simple “yes” to the voice on the other end, before it continues to speak, “As we speak the payment should be deposited into your Swiss account. Our client paid a premium as gratitude for the efficiency of your work.”

Some people have far too much money.

Nicole pulls the phone away from her ear to glance at the notification that just pinged. Her eyes scan the screen as she sees that £255,000 has been transferred to her account. She quickly confirms the deposit with a brief "received" before returning the phone to her ear.

"Stay alert, Ms. Haught. You'll be assigned a new target soon," the robotic voice speaks before promptly disconnecting the line. Nicole sat for a moment in silence, contemplating her next mission and the potential dangers that lay ahead. She took a deep breath, reminding herself of her training and the reasons why she does what she does. With a newfound sense of focus, she gathered her things and headed upstairs, ready to tackle her list of chores.

——

Striding down the cobblestone street, Nicole’s boots click against the pavement. The evening air is cool and crisp, causing her breath to come out in white puffs. As she approaches the local pub, the sound of laughter and clinking glasses spills out onto the street. The pub has been her local for almost five years making her heart swell briefly with fond memories of the times she’s spent there. Nicole hesitates for a moment, her hand on the door handle, before readying herself and pushing her way inside. As she enters the small door, she spots her older brother, standing in front of a group of his work colleagues, waving obnoxiously from across the bar. She nods in his direction to confirm that she sees him, and he gestures something resembling a drink, to which she replies with a thumbs up, eagerly making her way over to join him.

As Nicole squeezes past the patrons in the pub, she feels a sense of familiarity and comfort in the lively atmosphere. Making her way to the bar, she greets her brother with a loving hug and a warm smile, taking in the sight of his work colleagues around him. The bartender pours her a cold pint of Peroni, and with a nod, he opens a tab for her. She takes a sip of the refreshing beer, feeling the cool liquid calm her nerves after a long 24 hours.

Nicole greets Jason's colleagues with a friendly nod as she takes a sip of her beer, the familiar chatter of the pub providing a comfortable background to the evening. Soon, one of Jason's colleagues discusses someone's recent termination due to poor representation, “Did you hear Dave was fired for overlooking a pretty obvious law in his case last week?”

The topic doesn't particularly interest Nicole, but she listens leisurely with Jason frequently nodding or offering a small comment to keep the conversation flowing without saying anything too controversial.

Nicole leans back slightly, sipping her lager and letting out a contented sigh. She can't help but feel grateful that she doesn't work a typical 9 to 5 corporate job like Jason. The thought of being stuck in a stuffy office or mundane courtroom all day, dealing with endless meetings and office politics, makes her shudder. Instead, she's able to set her own schedule, work from home, and travel regularly. It's not always easy, but for her, it's worth it to have the freedom and flexibility that a traditional job could never offer.

However, she respected Jason's passion for protecting the vulnerable and ensuring justice is served had always been evident in his fiery personality. It was no surprise to Nicole that he pursued his dream of becoming a criminal prosecution barrister, and had been hired by one of the top law firms in the UK where he’s been working for almost fifteen years now, demonstrating his unwavering commitment to his calling, which Nicole admired.

Nicole used to rely on her brother's expertise in criminal prosecution to gain valuable insights and advice about the justice system and the cases he prosecuted. His guidance helped her successfully execute her assignments when she first started out with admirable efficiency and ease. Despite their shared desire for justice, they had vastly different methods of tackling it, with Nicole's methods being considerably more unconventional than Jason's.

Nicole began to lose entire interest in the group’s conversation on office drama until one of the older men pivoted the topic to that of Niall Barage’s recent demise, “did you see Niall Barage died?” Trying to appear nonchalant, she leaned casually against the bar top and made a mental note to keep her opinions to herself.

The others in the group confirm that they have before a short stocky man added, "it seems a bit suspicious if you ask me."

You weren’t.

Jason quickly interjected, "There didn't appear to be any foul play involved. Knowing that idiot, he probably lost his epi-pen at a strip club,” causing a roar of laughter from the group.

The stocky man retorted, “Or one of those bigoted rallies he leads.”

As the group continues to discuss Niall Barage's controversies, Nicole cannot help but feel disgust. She always found it difficult to stomach people who were involved in such things, especially those who use their power to harm others. She quietly sips her drink and scans the room as a distraction.

As Nicole glances around the pub, she notices that it has become increasingly crowded since she arrived nearly an hour ago. The bar is now crammed with patrons vying for the overwhelmed bartender's attention, while couples and small groups mingle among themselves at the high tables. At the back of the room, women around the same age as Nicole have taken over the pool tables.

Nicole's ears perk up as the sound of a loud, boisterous laugh fills the pub. She turns her head to locate the source of the noise and identifies a petite woman playing pool with the group of women, her infectious laughter echoing off the walls. The woman's carefree demeanour and jovial spirit catches Nicole's attention, a stark contrast to the more reserved patrons that typically frequented the pub. For a moment, Nicole finds herself mesmerised by the woman's exuberance, wondering what it would be like to let loose and have some fun for a change.

Nicole's gaze remains fixated on the woman playing pool, mesmerized by her fluid movements and impressive shots. She barely registers her brother's question until he repeats it, snapping her back to reality. Blinking a few times, Nicole turns towards her brother, feeling a bit disoriented. "What? Sorry, can you repeat the question?" she asks, embarrassed at her lack of attention. Her brother gives her a quizzical look before repeating himself, but Nicole's mind keeps wandering back to the woman at the pool table.

Jason notices Nicole's prolonged gaze, following her line of sight to the woman playing pool he nudges her slightly towards the direction of the woman and gives her a knowing look, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. Despite rolling her eyes at her brother's antics, Nicole can't help but smile. With a deep breath, she pushes herself off the bar top.

Nicole weaves her way through the throng of patrons at the pub, her eyes fixed on the petite woman playing pool. Her heart raced with anticipation, her pulse quickening with every step. The crowd seems to grow thicker with each passing moment, making it difficult to navigate. But Nicole was as determined as ever to get closer to the woman. Pushing past clusters of patrons chatting and laughing, dodging people carrying drinks and plates of finger food. Her focus remains solely on the woman. Summoning her courage, she flashes a smile at the woman, who seems taken aback by her sudden approach.

The petite woman stands before her with an air of confidence, her tanned skin seems to glow under the dim lighting of the pub. Her short hair is styled in a messy yet chic way, framing her face perfectly. Her features were striking, with high cheekbones and a razer sharp jawline. She had a small but plump mouth, adorned with a glossy pink lip balm, and her eyes were large and almond-shaped, a warm brown that invited anyone who looked into them to stay a while. Her outfit was simple yet alluring, jean shorts hugging her curves and her crop top accentuating her toned stomach and arms. There was something about her that makes Nicole feel captivated and curious, wanting to know more about the stunning woman.

Nicole clears her throat mustering up some courage before nodding towards the pool table, "How about a game? Loser buys the winner a drink?" she offers, flashing a bright smile and showcasing her dimples. The woman looks at her for a moment before grinning and accepting the challenge, "I think I should know the name of the woman who'll be buying me a gin and tonic."

Nicole grins at the introduction, feeling a sense of relief that the woman is as friendly as she is beautiful. As she extended her hand, she felt a tingling sensation in her fingers, a physical manifestation of the nervous energy that coursed through her body. The woman's hand was warm and soft, but firm, conveying confidence and self-assurance. Nicole felt a surge of attraction and admiration for this beautiful stranger who stood before her. As they shook hands, Nicole introduced herself, her voice just above a whisper, "I'm Nicole." The woman returned her grip with a warm smile and replied, "Waverley." For a moment, they stood there, hand in hand, both feeling a spark of connection that neither could quite explain.

Nicole turns towards the pool table and begins setting up the balls and racking them with ease. They stand opposite each other, each holding a cue stick in their hands. She can feel the electricity between them as she looks into Waverley's eyes. As they play their first round, she can't help but notice how Waverley moves with grace and confidence around the table. They both make impressive shots, exchanging playful banter and flirtatious glances as they compete.

Waverley leans over the pool table, her eyes fixed on the ball as she takes a shot. "So, Nicole, tell me about yourself," she says, looking up at her with a mischievous grin.

Nicole steps closer to her, her body heat warming Waverley's skin slightly, making her heart skip a beat. "Well, I'm a consultant," she responds, her eyes never leaving Waverley's gaze. "People hire me to review the concerns and come up with and execute a solution."

Waverley takes another shot, her attention wavering as she feels the heat of Nicole's body near her. "That's really cool," she responds, biting her lower lip as she looks up at her. "I always wanted to have a more flexible career, but my aunt insisted on me becoming a doctor after I got an A in biology in middle school."

Nicole laughs lightly at what she assumed was a joke, "Well, you certainly picked quite possibly the least flexible one out there."

Waverley raises an eyebrow at Nicole's response and gives her a playful smirk. "Oh, I don't know about that," she responds, stepping closer to the taller woman. "I think I can show you a thing or two about flexibility," she adds with a sly wink and a suggestive smirk, causing Nicole's cheeks to flush with a mix of surprise and excitement.

Not giving Nicole time to respond, Waverley gestures to the table, “you’re up.”

Trying to brush off the flirtatious comment, Nicole focuses on lining up the cue to sink a ball as she feels Waverley watching her movement closely in her peripheral. As she moves to take another shot, Waverley notices a flash of movement from Nicole's arm as her sleeve shifts, revealing a deep cut on her forearm. Waverley's eyes widen in concern as she walks towards Nicole, the pool cue clattering slightly against the table.

"Oh my…Nicole, are you okay?" she asks, gently taking Nicole's arm to inspect the wound. Nicole winces as Waverley touches the cut, but can't help but feel touched by her concern. "It's nothing," she assures Waverley, "just a little accident yesterday evening." Waverley's expression softens as she nods, a wave of relief washing over her.

Still concerned about Nicole’s cut, Waverley reaches into her pocket and pulls out a small business card, scrawling something on it with a pen. "Here, take this," she says, holding the card out to Nicole. "It's the name and address of my practice. Some say I’m the best in town at stitching up wounds. You should come by tomorrow to get that cut cleaned up and treated properly."

Nicole takes the card from Waverley, touched by her kindness and generosity. She can't help but admire how the woman can smoothly transition from relaxed humour to pure sex appeal to genuine concern.

As the two women are playing, a voice breaks through their conversation, "Hey Wave, we're leaving, are you coming or what?" A tall blonde woman calls out from across the pub.

Waverley turns to look at her friend and then back to Nicole, a hint of disappointment in her eyes. "Sorry, I really should get going too. Early start tomorrow," she says apologetically.

Nicole tries to hide her disappointment and nods, "Of course, I get it. Thanks for the game, Waverley."

Waverley gives her a soft smile, "By my count, you owe me a gin and tonic.”

Nicole chuckles lightly before holding up the business card, "I guess I do. See you tomorrow Doc."

Waverley's smile widens, "Looking forward to it. Take care, Nicole."

Nicole watches as Waverley walks away, feeling a sense of longing that she hasn’t felt before. She shrugs it off and heads back to the bar, thinking about the beautiful woman she just met and the opportunity to see her again tomorrow.