Casey's Revenge
By
Glenda
Chapter One
*
It had been a long, long night for Pik Van Cleaf. To say the hunt had not gone well was a vast understatement. And the news he was bringing to his partner, Fouchon, was not good.
Not good at all.
It was past dawn when Pik walked into the mansion that currently served as their base of operations.
Fouchon was waiting.
"Well, did you get him, Pik?" Fouchon asked impatiently. "No, I did not get him. Not only did I not get him, but he managed to take out four of the boys!" responded a very angry Pik. "You're bleeding." Fouchon commented. Pik looked at his torn jacket, the blood dripping from his hand and responded,
"What in the hell gave you that idea?"
"Take your jacket and shirt off, I'll get the first aid kit". The bullets had passed through Pik's shoulder, just inches from what could have been a life-threatening injury, but as it was, only seemed to only infuriate him further. But still Pik held respect for the man.
It took great expertise to escape from Pik.
It seems that the target for last night's hunt had been greatly underestimated. Not only did he manage to kill the client, who had been an utter and complete fool, he took the weapon and the supply of ammo the client was carrying. In the pursuit that followed,
the target managed to kill four of Pik's best trackers and get a bullet into Pik himself, before disappearing into seemingly thin air, taking with him the $10,000.00 Fouchon had given him if he made it to safety.
This time the target won. Or did he…....
***************
Some sixty miles away, Casey was just getting out of the shower to begin her day at a new job. Out side her window came a noise sounding like a tap on the wall. She looked out the window and didn't see anything. As she continued to dress, she heard the sound again. This time she went out the door to see what was causing the sound. Casey let out a small scream. There lying in a pool of blood was her best friend whom she had not seen in two years since his return from his stint in the Special Services. Kneeling at his head, she quickly turned him over. He was still alive, barely. "Oh, Joey, what happened to you?" she whispered. The glazed blue eyes opened at the sound of her voice. "Casey, take the money." He uttered. "Who did this to you?" she asked. "Casey, just take the money" he said again. "Joey, who did this!" she demanded. Finally Joey responded, "Fouchon and a man named Van Cleaf" " They hunt men with clients who pay big bucks for the opportunity." I beat th……" and with a rush of air, Joey died. Casey started to cry and promised then and there that she was going to make the men who did this to Joey pay.
She didn't have much information to go on in her efforts to locate the two men that Joey had named with his dying breathe. But she did have the $10,000.00 and the money that she had just won on the Lotto. All $22million.
Casey was already somewhat of a weapons expert herself. She had worked around guns since she was a teen and currently worked at a shooting range giving lessons to women on self-defense.
Armed with the names and the fact that these men hunted other men, lining up clients that had to be very wealthy to pursue this kind of "sport", Casey started to check out all of the ads in Soldier of Fortune magazine. She put out feelers that she was looking for "more adventurous action". Having a name like Casey was good. Most men assumed that she was another man. This would prove very helpful.
For two years, Casey honed her skills with weapons. All types of weapons. Took classes in martial arts. Anything to improve her chances of meeting Fouchon and this Van Cleaf. Her ads were in the magazines all over the world. Surely they would spot it and contact her.
Then one day it happened. She went to her post office box and there was a letter with no return address. She ripped it open. The card inside plainly stated " Be at the firing range on Hwy 6 at 5 pm on Thursday April 6th. Use the 4th stall. And come alone."
That was today! And it was now 3pm. Two hours to get her stuff and be at the range. She made a mental list of her weapons. Yes she could make it with no problems. She always carried the 9mm and the S&W 38 with her, along with enough ammo.
At 4:55pm, Casey pulled into the parking area at the range. Only two other cars there, one she knew as belonging to Bob, the manager, and the other one, a black Jeep, she didn't recognize
She walked into the office to sign in and say hi to Bob. Bob just told her the place was all hers, no one else was there. "What do you mean, no one is here? She asked. "Who does that black Jeep belong too?" Bob looked out the window before responding, "Hell if I know, never seen it before and no one else is here."
With a slight feeling of unease, Casey made her way to the 4th stall and took up her position to begin firing. Putting on her safety glasses and earplugs, she fired off 15 rounds at 5 different targets. Hitting each with deadly precision. If those had been men, they would have been dead. Then she loaded 6 shells into the 38 and began firing at the new set of targets Bob had just set for her. Again all 6 shots were perfect. Smiling, she took off her glasses and removed the earplug. It was only then, that she felt the hairs on the back of her neck tingle. Looking to her left, she was shocked to see a tall dark haired man, leaning casually against the post not 15 feet from her. His eyes were striking. The full penetrating gaze made her shift uncomfortably
"You must be Casey." He stated. "Yes I am" she replied. A small smirk crossed his face. That did it. She quickly added, "I'll bet you were expecting a man". That brought a smile to his face. "No, actually I was expecting a woman, just not a beautiful woman" he replied. "You see, in our line of business, we check out our prospective clients very well before even meeting them. And you have checked out. We just did not get a picture of you."
"So you want more "adventurous hunts" do you?" he asked. "Yes. But then you already know that". "Why?" he asked again. " Because I need to prove that I'm as good as a man in predatory situations." She calmly replied. He looked down at his feet, before looking at her again…"We shall see, won't we?" His fixed stare made her uncomfortable. She had prepared for this day for 2 long years. Here was one of the men that had killed her friend. And instead of hating him, she felt herself being drawn to him like a magnet.
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