Chapter
1
Monday,
18 January, 2010
Hawk was
window-shopping at the Cape Town Waterfront. The nickname stemmed from the
tattoo of a hawk emblazoned on his chest. Hawk blended in with the tourists, as
he wore shorts, a T-shirt, sunglasses. For all anyone knew, he was an American
on holiday. He even faked an American accent and managed to fool people with
it. He was deciding how to carry out his evil plans. He had a 9 mm Luger in his
rucksack that he was dying to use. The same gun he had stolen from Troy Brady’s
dresser just days before.
Hawk scanned
the crowd of people, deciding who he wanted to shoot first. He stared at Troy Brady.
Man, he wished that he could shoot him. He could have when Brady brushed past
him, but that was not his plan. It was something so much better. Hawk watched Brady
walk into the restaurant, Le Verona and saw him at the bar talking to a friend,
Rebecca Jones. Brady did not realize what a good friend he had in her. He
grinned at the idea. Brady would realize it that evening, if his plans
succeeded. He watched them talking. They did not notice, as they were so
absorbed in their conversation. From the body language, it looked heated. When
they left, she passed by him. He heard her say, “What an asshole. Never mess
with an angry woman. It will only bite you in the ass.”
Hawk
watched as Brady stalked out and walked toward the harbour. Hawk despised Brady.
He was so fucking perfect. He needed to pay for ruining his life. He had
pondered how he could get back at Brady and had decided on what he thought was
the perfect plan. He hid behind a pillar and a bushy indoor ficas. Then he squeezed the trigger, with a grin upon
his face. Just for fun, he shot at as many people as he could.
He saw
people slumping to the floor. Everyone was screaming and frantic. Most will not
last long, he thought with a twinge of regret. No one heard anything and no one
saw anything. Troy’s fingerprints were still on the gun, so there was no way he
could explain his way out of this. He wondered how quickly Brady would go down.
Operation revenge was in progress. Sweet fucking revenge. Hawk placed the gun
on the floor. No one questioned him. He walked out of the Waterfront, got in
his car, and drove away, ready for the next phase in his plans.
