Family Trade

Family Trade

Vacationing in Italy is like a dream. Mark got to hike along scenic sloping vistas with his older brother and father. He and his grandfather got to gorge on the finest Italian delicacies in various holes in the walls all around Sicily. They’d sit on the cobblestone streets, basking in the sights and smells of another foreign land. The country seemed alive with an awe-inspiring beauty. 

Mark and his family were settling into their hotel room, a lofty suite fit for a family of five. Mark was going for some wine. His elders all held their own stern gazes as he reached for a bottle.

“I thought we came here so I could drink-”

Mark’s mother shook her head. Her blonde waves swayed elegantly.

“It’s not that, darling.”

She reassured her son in a honey-smooth voice.

“We need you sober for this. For what we’re about to tell you.”

Adds his father.

Mark blinked and he looked at his family.

“Have you ever wondered…what we do? And WHY we always go on such extravagant trips?”

Mark’s mother, Mel, asked delicately. 

Mark shook his head once.

“You and Dad…work for the state, right?”

He repeated what he’d been told for the past eighteen years. 

Mel and her husband, Mac, exchanged glances before shaking their heads in unison.

“That’s…not exactly true.”

Mac responded.

“We DO work with the government, yes. But it’s more…off the books than that.”

The adults continued to stammer about. They struggled to find the right words and tested the boy’s patience.

“What are you even talking about?”

Mark crosses his arms and narrows his eyes.

“We’re assassins.”

Mark’s older brother, Matt, chimed in fron the back. He dropped the news on his brother's in his usual hard and blunt way.

“Mac pinched the bridge of his nose and shut his eyes, while Mel’s head snapped to her eldest son’s. Her face was decorated with her usual furious scowl. Meanwhile, Mark was left in disbelief. He thought his older brother was messing with him As he was prone to doing. But his family’s reactions to what he said lead him to believe otherwise.

The eldest man in the room, Mic, wheeled himself toward his youngest grandson.

“Your brother’s right.”

Even with his strained, old voice, he still commanded everyone’s attention.

“Our family has been working undercover with all sorts of state governments for generations. Like the spies in your superhero comic book.”

He explained.

“We started by stealing secrets from the Nazis for allied powers. And since then, we’ve been working to make the world a better place from the shadows.”

Mark listened intently. As his grandfather alluded to, it all sounded like something out of a comic. Almost too fake to be true…

But it made sense. It explained all the flashy trips they’d been going on together since he was a baby. And it explained the family’s more flakier behavior at night.

“Why…”

He began.

“Why are you telling me about this now?”

Mark managed.

“Because you’re finally old enough to join the family trade.”

Mic replied.

“What…what if I don’t want to kill people? I mean, I’m not even trained to do anything like that!”

Mac shook his head.

“All we ask is you try, once. You won’t even have to spill any blood tonight. We have a plan for you.”

Mel followed with,

“You’ve been raised for this, baby. That’s part of the reason you and your brother have always been in better shape than other boys your ages. All those…”

She cleared her throat,

“‘Special shots’ you guys got as you were growing up were to prepare you both for this.”

She admitted. Mel felt guilty having lied to him for so long but hoped her son would understand and forgive them. Matt got over it pretty fast. Hopefully, his younger brother would too. 

Mark blinked. It all made sense. Even as a kid, he was faster and stronger than others. He could have gone pro playing football if he actually liked having his brain rattle around his skull. A moment’s hesitation before he nodded.

“Fine. What do I have to do?”

Asked Mark. 

Mac and Mel exchanged satisfied smiles before turning their attention to their youngest again.

“All you need to do…”

Began Mac.

“Is slip a poison into a meal. You’ll be masquerading as an apprentice chef. When no one’s looking…”

Mel pulled a small vial with a clear liquid in it out of her pocket and handed it to him.

“Pour this into the soup.”

He finished as Mel handed her son the vial. Then she delicately placed her hand on her son’s cheek. Mark felt a pinch, his face vibrated, and he saw a blue sheen slither across his vision.

“Ow-?!”

Mark stepped back half a pace, rubbing his cheek.

“What was that?”

Mel giggled.

“Just a disguising device, baby. It’s like a digital mask. Now no one can track you.”

His mother beamed.

“Still ugly, though.”

His brother chided with a smirk. Especially ironic considering they’re both the spitting image of their father in his prime. Thick, black hair and narrow, confident eyes. Matt’s features had just become more angular like their father’s due to age. Juxtaposed to Mark’s being more rounded. He tossed his younger brother an earpiece.

“Put that in your ear so we can all chat. When you fuck this up tap the side and start crying. Someone will bail you out-”

“Enough.”

Mac sternly interjected against the boy’s barrage of insults. His gaze went back to the younger of the two, squeezing his hand.

“You’ll do fine, bud. You’re in no danger. The man you’re killing is an awful arm’s dealer. Grab the change of clothes in the bathroom and head down to the kitchen.”

Mark obliged, stripping out of his clothes and into the white chef’s outfit. He stole a look at himself in the mirror and frowned. Despite the alleged tech disguise, he still looked the same.

“Hey, Mom?! Did your mask thing WORK?”

Mark called from the bathroom.

“Ya, hon!”

She hollers back.

“You’ll still see you, but everyone ELSE sees something different!”

She replied.

As Mark returned to the main room, he watched his family transform it into a small command center. His grandfather and father were setting up some laptops and other tech, while his mother and brother donned sleek all-black combat outfits.

“We’re gonna be plan B, bud.”

Mel said.

“We’re gonna work on taking out security while you do your thing. And in case it goes south-”

“When you fuck up-”

His brother mocks before being silenced by his mother’s glare.

“IN CASE THINGS GO SOUTH….”

She began again.

“We’ll be there to extract the target. Your Dad and grandfather are gonna be on tech support tonight.”

Mark nodded.

“Right, right.”

“Good luck, kiddo.”

Mac said to his son. His grandfather waved, and Mark was off! 

He slipped through the halls of the hotel and down into the kitchen area like it was no one’s business. As far as any of them were concerned, he belonged there! Mark worked in food service for a week or two before deciding it wasn’t for him. He’d been in a kitchen before, but this was nothing like Pizza Hut. Everyone was so busy. The joint was alive with a hustle and bustle as chefs ran about with ingredients and dishes. Yet, the lace was spotless! The dozen or so chefs running the kitchen could easily serve the meals here and now. Mark could make out some French and Italian, but all the overlapping voices made actually distinguishing anything a chore.’

Anxiety bubbled up within him. He’d never killed anything, or anyone, for that matter before. His feet suddenly got cold. What if he screwed up? Or got caught? Or-?

“Excuse me, you?”

A girl’s voice took Mark’s attention. She’s a bit older than him, blonde twin tails done up in a braid. Her accent leans European, as do her facial features.

“You, c’mere.”

Whistling and twitching her manicured index and middle fingers as though she were addressing a dog.

“I needed help preparing Malukko’s soup YESTERDAY-”

As she yapped on, Mark’s grandfather chimed in his ear.

“That’s your mark, Mark.”

An amused cackle, as Mark exhaled through his nose in annoyance. He trudged towards the chef.

“Hey, at least she’s cute.”

Mac mused.

His son rolled his eyes as he got to the woman. She immediately began to bark demands.

“We need basil, and fresh mini tomatoes, PRONTO.”

Clapping her hands.

“That’s on you.”

She didn’t even bother asking his name! Probably works better with anonymity or something.

In his ear, he’d listen to the family speak back and forth, talking about where guards were and their routes. Men taken down and where to hide their bodies. It was almost like listening to a video game podcast or something while he ran back and forth grabbing tomato soup ingredients for the woman he wished he was killing tonight…

As the meal drew closer to being finished, Mark touched his earpiece.

“Hey, think you can get her away from the food?”

He whispered.

“Leave it t’me, bud.”

His grandfather replied with an unseen mischievous smirk.

As Mark returned to their workstation, the girl’s phone chirped. She sighed and took it out.

“‘Scuse me-.”

Shuffling past Mark without a care. He scowled.

“No one’s watching you, go ‘head.”

Mac replied. Mark hesitated for a moment. His uncertainty came back to rear its ugly head. Unfortunately, he didn't have long to fester in it. Mark heard her return, squawking in annoyance at her phone from the other end of the kitchen He did as he was told to do without question, pouring the poison into the soup and mixing it in real good. as he finished.

“Good job. Now beat it.”

Mac said. Didn’t have to tell him twice!

“Food’s on, and I’m going on a smoke break.”

Mark said hastily, hurrying away before his temporary boss could say anything.

He fled the kitchen through the back, as he was instructed. There was a backpack waiting for him there with a change of clothes and instructions on how to ditch his disguise. After slipping on an innocuous pair of sweats and a hoodie, his first mission was done. Mark walked off, looping back to the front of the hotel and then meeting his father and grandfather upstairs. He didn’t feel any sort of way about this. It was pretty easy, actually. No direct bloodshed or confrontations.

“Nice work! Very, very good!”

His grandpa gushed, making Mark smile.

“So, how do you feel about joining the gang, kiddo?”

Asked Mac.

“We could use ya. You did good tonight.”

Mark hummed in consideration.

“Honestly…I think I could get used to this. So long as I get to do cool shit like Mom and Matt.”

The older men laughed.

“With some training, that can be arranged.”

Mic reassured. He grabbed the wine Mark had been eying up earlier in the night. He popped the cork with a satisfying ‘pop’.

“Ad un lavoro ben fatto!”

He praised his grandson’s work, raising his glass.

Mac grinned.

“E al futuro.”

He added his hopes for the future, raising his glass next.

Mark grinned. He raised his glass finally. Their glasses clinked.

“Saluti.”

Mark cheered. His father and grandfather repeated.