god_of_hade (god_of_hade) wrote in themoderngods, @ 2012-03-16 08:53:00 |
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Entry tags: | !thread, × ny presbyterian, ♥ kurt mckenzie / jordan keagan : droppe, ♥ milo rankin, ♦ pluto |
WHO Jordan/Kurt & Milo
WHEN 15/16 March 2012 | the dead of night
WHERE NY Presbyterian, Jordan's room
WHAT time to finish the job.
When he had been contacted by those in Chicago he'd been surprised; his connections were far reaching and in Chicago he had developed a fairly high reputation, but he was rarely used for jobs from the mob outside of New York any more. He promised nothing and told them he would look into the case of this Jordan fellow and get back to them on it. It seemed an easy enough job, finish off what some two-bit idiot had started, collect the money, the end. He was a man of class and style, and a lot more intelligence then the mobster that managed to get his face shot off. With both targets in the hospital it would be easy, easy to get to them, easier to make it look like unfortunate deaths in a hospital setting. Particularly after the conversation he'd started with the Jordan fellow, he had a morphine drip, it was easy to overdose on that drug, particularly if the machine to regulate the intake wasn't working. Honestly, Milo felt almost bad for accepting such a high pay out for such an easy job. Almost. As he looked through the files to find out which room exactly Jordan Keagan was in, Milo wondered about hospital security not for the first time. Visiting hours were over and yet he'd slipped in almost unnoticed and walked around without a man or woman asking him what he was doing here so late. He had dressed for the part, made sure his scrubs were the right color for the floor, but he was a new face and the turnover rate must be atrocious if they didn't even bother to ask. Room in hand, or in mind, as the hospital was apparently now all electronic, he moved with the same grace and confidence along the halls once again. A nurse caught his eye and he gave her a wink causing a fit of laughter before they both moved on; honestly, he would have to put all his hits in the hospital first just to make it was this easy. As the numbers to the room flashed in front of him Milo was expecting some sort of guard, FBI, but nothing. There was a chair nearby, perhaps he was off to the little boys room, either way, easier to get in. The door squeaked as he pushed it open and there was some lingering sense of...something he couldn't put his finger on, it gave him the chills; like some really powerful shit had gone down in the room, it almost felt supernatural. Some idiot probably had a priest bless him, that always made him feel awkward, hated that mumbo-jumbo. The body looked half alive as it was, made him grin as he stepped further in toward the machine that controlled the amount of drugs his soon-to-be dead 'friend' was getting. It really wasn't a difficult thing to mess with, you just had to know a few things about machines, and Milo had done this before, he'd learned exactly what it was that regulated and exactly what needed to be done to fuck that up. Looking down at the man he was soon about to kill, he gave an apologetic smile (the very perfection of one, Milo had gotten good at looking the whole gamete of emotions that he could not feel) and then felt this strange tug in the back of his mind. Brows furrowing he stepped back, migraine possibly? Best get the job done and leave, he could come back for the woman if needed; might be a better idea, less suspicious of they both didn't die on the same night. He glanced again at the body and this time it was not a tug it was a white light of pain and his head almost snapped back as he stumbled, nearly falling over from the sharp searing pain that was now radiating down along his body. |