Six Thousand Five Hundred Miles

Mike was walking through the park, on his way back to the house where Randy and his moneymakers (Mike being one of them), lived. He'd just finished his last client of the night and was exhausted, wanting to get to his room and sleep the night away.

It was quiet, eerily quiet. Mike had also just got off the phone with Carter Lacroix. There was a target on his back, and a hit man was sent after him. he and Carter were very good friends, and he was also friend's with his rookie of a cop sister. Mike was the only one other than Nolee who knew that Carter was in hiding on a private island in New Zealand.

It was a long trip trot he states and private which was perfect. When the topic of Carter came up, Mike simply acted casual as if he had no idea where the southern cop was.

The night was silent and that made Mike jumpy. He had a feeling someone was following him. He just tied his trench coat tighter around him as he tried to quickly get out of the park and back to the house unseen and unheard.

If there was one thing Harris Lacroix was good at, it was teasing his prey. He could let them know he was there without ever being seen. And that's what he was doing to the young man that he was following. He was handsome, well built, and probably around the age of his son Carter. Well, Harris figured Carter was at least 26. He hadn't kept track of any of his children. But when this job popped up, he knew that it was to good to pass up.

Making his way from the shadows behind Mike, Harris pressed a gun to the center of the young man's back, placing a hand over his mouth to silence him. "I know who yeh are, Mizanin. And I know yeh know where my clients being hidden. His name is Carter. Now, I'm going to remove my hand and if yeh scream, I'll make sure to take yer pretty little legs."

Mike jumped a foot in the air when he felt a bun pressed to his spine. His body trembled, his eyes immediately becoming misty. Mike did not want to loose his legs. He simply nodded, promising not to scream. If this man knew his name, he knew what this man was after. Carter. That made his heart sink. He loved Carter like a brother but... he didn't to loose his legs, or die for that matter. When the man pull this hand away, he spoke up shakily.

"W-What do you want from me?" Mike whispered, looking down at the ground, the gun sending a shiver of fear up his spin.

"I want yeh to tell me where a certain target of mine is. His name is Carter Lacroix," smirked Harris, after moving his other hand to his pocket. He couldn't deny that this amused him, one man being so afraid of him. The fear...he almost fed off of it.

Mike shook his head. "I don't know that man." He murmured. Mike didn't want to giveCarter up. Plus Nolee would hate him for it. Not that he was afraid of the woman but still... "Look, I need to get going. I don't know a Carter." He said.

Harris laughed, "Oh no, no, no. I don't think yeh understood my question while yeh were over there shakin' like a leaf on a tree. Either yeh tell me where I can find Carter or Imma kill yeh."

"He's... He's in New Zealand now let me go, please..." Mike whimpered, struggling slightly against Harris. He just wanted to get gone and get back to the house.

Harris smirked, grabbing Mikey's arm. "Yeh know what? I'm not gonna take my chances of yeh rattin' me out to yer insane boss. Yer comin' with me."

Mike's eyes widened. "What? you can't just kidnap me!" He snapped, pulling his arm. "Let me go you asshole!" He hissed as he struggled. He did not want to be kidnapped by this... asshole of a hit man.

"Oh I think I can 'just kidnap yeh' Mike," laughed Harris. "And yer gonna like it. At least look at it this way, I'm not gonna make yeh spread yer legs like Randy does and I sure as hell ain't gonna try to have sex with yeh. Yeh'll get off work and yeh'll get t' see the world."

Mike glared. "Whatever. I don't really have a choice." He grumbled crossing his arms. He looked around, wondering if he could make a run for it. But he realized it would be a vain effort and stayed where he was.

"No, no yeh don't got a choice. Now, does Randy have a private jet we can...uh...borrow?" Harris smirked.

Mike's eye twitched. "We're not borrowing Randy's jet. I'm sure he'd notice if it was gone." He hissed. Randy would flip a shit if his jet went mysteriously missing.

Harris smirked, "I'm gonna make that a bit clearer. Where the hell are the keys to Randy's jet. We're gonna need it."

"First off, we're not driving the jet. I'll call the pilots. Second of all, we're gonna need to make 4 stops because it's not big enough to go straight to New Zealand." Mike said, grumbling about how stupid southerners were.

Harris rolled his eyes, "First off all, I knew we were gonna have to have pilots drive the damn plane fer us. Second of all, where do yeh recommend we take the four stops?"

"Spain, Turkey, India, and Australia before we can go to New Zealand." Mike said, having been there before and knowing which stops they had to take. "Why do you need me anyway?" He grumbled.

"I ain't never been to none of those countries. Should be a fun trip," Harris smirked as he walked with Mike towards the direction of Randy's house. "And I need yeh a) so I can take Orton's jet, b) so I know yeh not lyin to me bout that whimp Carter and c) maybe I'm just gona get damn lonely.'

"Hire some other hooker if you get lonely." Mike huffed. He snuck into the house, got the keys before making his way out. "Now we have to hurry before he wakes and realizes the keys are gone. Randy notices everything." He said, handing the keys to Harris.

Harris smirked, "Well we're gonna need a piolet. Yeh need to bring us one 'a those too. Ooooo and see if he has any food, Imma be starved if I don't get something to eat soon." To him, kidnap and grand theft...aero in this case were a part of the job.

Mike rolled his eyes. "There's food on the plane. And the pilot should be at the jet getting it ready, since in the morning Randy was planning on using it." He said.

"Well I'll be damned. Yeh know what he was gonna use it fer?" Harris asked, a smile on his face. In some ways, he was almost like an excited child...an excited child who killed for a living.

Mike shrugged. "Business meeting in Russia with the Russian mafia." He said, glancing at Harris. To Mike these things were normal, he didn't really see the excitement in it.

"Well damn, I didn't know the Orton family was so well to do in foreign affairs. Maybe I yeh see me do this one right yeh can put in a good word fer me?"

Mike rolled his eyes. "It depends on if I get out of this trip unscathed." He grumbled. "Now let's get going." He said, hailing one of the few taxis that was out at this time of night before they hopped in, Mike telling the driver to drive them to the airport. Mike was not looking forward to the next week...