The Assassin

In a tight and dingy motel room in the suburbs of Hollywood, Senator George Phelps lay on his bed, reminiscing about his past, trying to work out where things had gone horribly wrong in his life and consequently, contemplating his future. He slowly turned his head to the woodworm ridden bedside table, and started motionlessly at the picture of his wife and two children in obviously happier circumstances. Two days earlier, his wife had abruptly ended their twenty-four year marriage and to say it was a mutual decision would be a lie.

What he feared to think, but what was infinitely true, was that his wife had found out that for the past eighteen months, he had been having a passionate affair with the glamorous, and multi-millionairess filmstar, Carmen Assendro. The more that Senator Phelps went over the sources that could have ended his marriage, the more that fiery anger and pure hatred built up inside of him. After much deliberation, Senator Phelps came to the conclusion that whoever had left him in this position, was to pay a very, hefty price… Ms. Assendro and he met at the 2001 Oscars.

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As the event was held in Hollywood, Senator Phelps’ presence was easily explained, as was the fact that Carmen Assendro was about to walk away with almost every award available, including ‘Best Actress’ for her role in the 2001 Box Office Smash, ‘The Last Butterfly of Summer’. They first came into contact at the after-show party, where they were introduced through some colleagues of Mr. Phelps. They found that the feelings they had for each other stretched far beyond admiration for their respective positions. From here started an instant love affair which would subsequently end lives, careers and years of marriage.

Over the past few months, their relationship had become very complicated, for various reasons. One, was a man named Joe DiVarro. His name may not mean anything to you, but in Hollywood, you were always wary of Joe DiVarro and his henchman. He was the maffia boss of the new millenium. The FBI had labelled him ‘the most wanted criminal since Al Capone’. Joe DiVarro was bad news for many people, Senator George Phelps included. Senator Phelps had high hopes. His ambitions could be mirrored by no other politician at this time. In order for him to be the best, he had to beat the best. Quite literally.

And, along with the help of Joe DiVarro and his henchman, he became the best, certainly in the city of Hollywood. At times it was so obvious. On the nights of local elections, rival politicians disappeared, seemingly on the face of the earth. In reality, every police officer in LA was on the payroll of Joe DiVarro and in return, they turned a blind eye to these mysterious disappearances. The reasons? Because Senator George Phelps payed Joe DiVarro to take care of his numerous rivals and critics. This can be an extremely pofitable move, providing you have the money to pay for this kind of action.

In the beginning, Senator Phelps did. However, as he became more ruthless for total power, Joe DiVarro decided to increase the asking price for another high profile ‘disappearance’. Lately, George Phelps had fallen behind with payments, and after failing to meet several deadlines, Joe DiVarro promised revenge. Did he know about Ms. Assendro and Senator Phelps? Well, if he had the entire LA Police Force on his payroll, surely, he knew. He must have. Surely… Senator George Phelps then thought back to the last time he and Ms. Assendro spoke.

She asked him to give up his home, his career, his family for a continued love affair in Monte Carlo. He instantly knew that leaving his family would be a huge wretch for him. He genuinely thought the world of each of them and would do anything possible to prevent them from any harm. However, to avoid disappointing his lover straight away, he spent the next few days stalling, and gently letting her down. Ms. Assendro grew increasingly infuriated by the lack of enthusiasm shown by Senator Phelps and so ended the affair instantly and promised Phelps that it would be the last they saw of each other.

But, in true Carmen Assendro style, she vowed that revenge would soon follow because, in her words, ‘nobody messes about with Carmen Assendro’. At the time, George Phelps didn’t think much of this idle threat, but in the light of recent events, maybe she had landed him in the mess he found himself in. Joe DiVarro or Carmen Assendro? The two names were repeatedly circling inside the head of Senator Phelps. On one hand Joe DiVarro wasn’t your conventional maffia boss. The heads of horses on enemies pillows just weren’t his style. He was a conniving individual, sneaky and seriously duplicitous.

On the other hand, Carmen Assendro wasn’t as ‘sweet’ and ‘innocent’ as Hollywood showbusiness reporters painted her. Both were equally capable of destroying someone… or indeed, something… George Phelps had ovsiously come to a decision in his head. In an aggressive manner, he jumped into his car, and with great velocity, sped through the Hollywood streets leaving nothing but a cloud of smoke in his wake. In the boot of his car, were a hammer wrench, a screwdriver and a pair of pliers – simple equipment used to tamper with a car…

Silence. Absolutely nothing disturbed the midnight Hollywood freeway. Patiently, the assailant waited in an eerie atmosphere of tranquility. One could be forgiven for presuming that there was almost a sense of professionalism surrounding the entire affair. A car headlight lit up the otherwise dark night sky. Startled, the assailant prepared himself. He was one hundred per cent focused on the job in hand. In his head, this was the right thing to do. To him, this was the only way out. Calculating? Cold-Blooded? Certainly not to him.

His unbelievably laid back attitude certainly The Chauffeur driven S-Class Mercedes emerged from the over-bearing mass of fog that congregated above Hollywood on this fateful night. The Chauffeur pulled up in a lay-by, turned off the engine, and got out of the car. As he looked towards the back of the car, he could just about pick out the thick river of fuel that Incensed, he went to the front of the car, and lited the bonnet in an attempt to discover just why so much fuel had been lost. He jumped. Something in the background had startled the Chauffeur.

Breathing heavily, and with his senses now on red alert, he slowly turned and began to walk over to the the miles of off-road undergrowth. He couldn’t see anything. He had great difficulty considering the sombre sky which besieged the ‘Big Apple’ that night. He returned to the open bonnet of the expensive Mercedes. After a few minutes of intense searching, he slammed the bonnet down with severe intent, obviously just having realised the problem. He seemingly deemed the car to be beyond immediate repair. It was at this point when he called for help… The cellphone fell from his ear to the ground.

It shattered into hundreds of tiny pieces. Immediately after, the Chauffeur dropped to the floor, clutching his chest with excruciating pain etched onto his agonised face. Blood slowly tricked from his mouth. The Chauffeur was dead. The glamorous woman jumped out of the car via the passenger door. With her hands held to her face in utter shock and disbelief, she burst into tears. She quickly attended to her lifeless Chauffeur. Realising that he had just been murdered right before her very eyes, she struggled to her feet. Her pulse raced. Her mouth went dry. The assasin scutinized her trembling figure…

Instantly, the woman fell to the ground. The bullet had pierced a whole right through skull. She too, had been murdered. The Assassin removed the silencer from his pp7, and cooly and calmly got into the back seat of the waiting car parked nearby. It left the murder scene with great speed, leaving two dead bodies in its wake… Hours later, the misty, sleepy dawn rose to reveal Hollywood in all its hypnotic majesty. * * * Joe DiVarro was being driven along a freeway at a relatively steady pace by Jonny Metola and Rico Vincetti. Together they were two of Joe’s most trusted allies.

Speaking above Mozart Symphony no. 38 in D major, Joe turned to his henchman and said, ‘What have I always told you guys? Don’t get mad, get even. The reason why I told you this is evident tonight. Revenge is oh so sweet. ‘ Sick laughter from all three men soon followed, until Jonny Metola turned to Joe and asked, ‘Hey boss, do you want me to get rid of the evidence? ‘ Whilst winding down the window, Joe replied, ‘No. I’ll do it myself’ With that, he threw a magnum pp7 out of the window, and into the nearby river. Jonny Metola, who was driving the car saw it all happen, and again, laughed at what he saw.

He turned round. Suddenly, he went ashen faced. He felt physically sick. In the pit of his stomach, he had a horrible feeling. He couldn’t speak. He feared for his own life, and the lives of his two best friends sitting in the back of the car. Without meaning to worry them, he repeatedly slammed on the brakes, each time hitting them harder and harder. Fear was expressed all over his face. In the back of the car, amidst all the sense of acheivement between Joe DiVarro and Rico Vincetti, they noticed something was seriously wrong with their colleague, their friend. ‘Jonny? ‘ ‘Guys, this is it.

Someone has tampered with the brakes, we are going at 120mph and there is we can do absolutely jack about it! ‘ Joe and Rico looked at each other in utter disbelief. With that, the bright headlights of a juggernaut were seen, fastly approaching the vehicle containing Joe DiVarro, Jonny Metola and Rico Vincetti. Jonny did all he could. Distance himself from the wheel, and pray that all three guys get out of this alive… After hitting the car with serious velocity and immense strength, the juggernaut caused the car to overturn in mid air before landing upside down in a river by the side of the freeway.

The wheels were still in motion. A low, dull, humming sound could be heard coming from the soon to be defunct vehicle. The driver of the juggernaut stopped, got out of his vehicle and ran as fast as he could towards the wreckage. Before he could get to it however, the car burst into a towering inferno, almost indefinetely killing the three men inside instantly. After numerous years of corruption, kidnappings and murders, Joe DiVarro, Jonny Metola and Rico Vincinetti were dead.  Senator George Phelps arrived back at his motel room. Covered in a cold sweat, he slumped onto his bed, contemplating what he had just done.

He had just tampered with the brakes of the car which consequently resulted in the death of Joe DiVarro, Jonny Metola and Rico Vincinetti. Senator Phelps believed these men had ended his marriage. In reality, Carmen Assendro was the one who had ended his twenty four year marriage. That was her revenge. Moments before his death, Joe DiVarro murdered Carmen Assendro and her Chauffeur. That was his revenge. It was a muddy triangle of lies, jealousy, revenge and deceit. One broken marriage and five unsolved murders. All in a days work in the glamorous world of Hollywood.