Weihai, Shandong, China

Well, this is fucked up, mused Nick Taylor as he made his getaway.

Officials were already on the scene at the Port of Weihai in Shendong, China. Which wasn’t a huge problem, considering that Nick was able to easily slip out the back of the warehouse he’d set ablaze. He merged into the safety and anonymity of the crowd now gathered to watch the flames escape from the windows. At six-foot-four, Nick would stand out in this crowd and draw quite a bit of attention to himself. However, the crackling and sizzling inferno raging hard with the hues of white-hot yellows, oranges, and reds had everyone captivated.

Nick pulled the black hoodie up over his head to conceal his American features, blending in with the local onlookers and emergency responders. Firefighters were scrambling to contain the massive blaze, which had quickly spread to a storage area crammed with shipment crates full of cheaply made crap bound for the United States. He didn’t want to think about the poorly paid people who’d made all the stuffed animals, clothing, or other gift store items. This wasn’t the time to think about the little guy, or buy American or whatever. He’d had a job to do and would make sure it was done right.

Nick Taylor always followed orders to a tee. It was more than just his Army training. It was his ethics, his morals, and his own personal code. He knew right from wrong. He could sense the bad guy from a mile away. His gut always guided him and never led him astray.

Certainly not this time either.

He’d tracked his man, discovered what he needed, and performed the task he’d been hired to do.

Clean.

Simple.

Easy.

Okay, not exactly clean. Someone was going to have a serious cleanup and restoration effort to deal with once this warehouse finished searing.

The night sky was lit as if it were a rocket launch as the billowing clouds from the explosion rose over the many warehouse structures in the area. Nick smiled to himself in spite of the melee he’d caused. This was one of his best jobs yet. It was sure to make every international news outlet – what with all the camera crews, not to mention people with their cell phones capturing potentially viral videos of the inferno from every fucking angle. This outcome hadn’t been his intention, but shit happened sometimes. As long as his mission was completed to the company’s satisfaction, these consequences were more or less acceptable. Collateral damage and all that.

The bastard he’d nixed had it coming. Nasty sort of beast with his fingers in all sort of illegal pies, so to speak. Nick had no regrets or qualms about it. He’d taken out real shit heads before and slept just fine.

He heard a woman near him gasp and cry out in Chinese that she hoped no one was injured in this horrible fire. Nick shifted his eyes to the left corner of the warehouse where his mark now lay—charred remains, at best. He knew the only person injured in all of this was the exact person who was meant to be exterminated. The casualty—one soul he had been hired to eliminate. And, Nick had set the blast as a final candle on the cake to celebrate the end of his current assignment. Maybe it was overkill, but it was exactly what was requested of him.

Whatever The Company wanted, The Company got.

Nick pretended to be horrified, just like the others around him, as the scene outside the warehouse went from concern to mayhem, with workers fleeing, motorists being turned away, and nearby buildings being evacuated. The streets were clogged with vehicles, mostly those getting out of their cars to do the Chinese equivalent of rubber necking – getting pictures and video and calling friends to tell them what was going on. Ironically, a disaster like this wasn’t simply an American fascination. It was worldwide.

Nick couldn’t help but snicker at how such an evil and maniacal prick like his target was unknowingly receiving such a celebratory and media spectacle goodbye. Wonders never ceased to amaze him. Yet, it was best these nice people surrounding him knew nothing of the despicable shit this man was dealing.

“How did it start?” one man near him asked frantically.

Nick could provide him with an answer, but it wasn’t necessary. He’d be long gone—a virtual ghost in the night—once investigators rifled through the remains to discover the cause of this. On the fourth floor of the warehouse, he had rigged a container with one particular industrial chemical. Long before the fire department arrived at the scene, the calcium carbide in the warehouse would eventually react with the water from the building’s internal sprinkler system. The slow-burn rigging cord Nick set up would take forty minutes to reach the first floor where the flammable chemicals were stored. In thirty-one minutes there would be a blast massive enough to ignite other chemicals stored in the warehouse, creating a chain reaction that would forever eliminate any evidence of the one casualty. And, anything else within the building.

The man’s own dentist won’t be able to ID him.

Nick knew that anywhere else in the world, such an explosion would result in hundreds of lives lost and near-apocalyptic damage. That was not possible here in Weihai as it was one of the most disciplined, regimented, emergency preparedness-focused economic zones in China. This building he chose had already been identified as an emergency response no-go zone. That meant first responders were instructed to erect a perimeter and evacuate the area, but couldn’t enter to fight fires or for any other type of emergency response. Which explained why the workers were now focused on crowd control instead of running in to tackle the blaze.

Still, Nick wasn’t hired to stick around and witness that part of it. So, he turned away and strutted across the street and away from the warehouse some ten blocks to where he had parked his black Yamaha FZ-09. Even though he’d stashed his rice rocket far enough away from the structure, he could still smell the pungent smoke filling the air. It was an odor he was familiar with in his line of work, one that his memories would never let him forget. Dressed in all black at this time of night and with so much going on, Nick knew he wouldn’t be noticed by authorities trying to control the flow of people and vehicles.

He sat astride the bike and fitted the black helmet to his head, covering his features for anyone who might notice the dark-haired-blue-eyed American. He snapped the mirrored visor into place over his face and revved the bike to start it up. He loved the sound of the roaring engine coming to power and sparking his excitement to drive and get the hell out of here. The thrust of kicking it into gear, peeling the tires off, and heading onto the road like he owned it. It was a freedom someone like Nick savored in a life of taking care of the needs of others over himself.

Even though he’d done what he’d been paid to do—as he always did—there was never a sense of victory in taking a life. As an Army vet with two tours in Afghanistan under his belt, as well as a few unmentionable secret op assignments that weren’t on his official Army records, he understood the necessity of combat, war, and conflict, but it didn’t mean he liked it. It was a bitch and a half, in fact, but it was what humanity did best, and now, he used those transferable skills to make as much money as he could now so he could one day escape it all for good.

He shook off the thoughts of his near future and settled into the seat of the crotch rocket. He steered the bike out onto the street and took off, making his way by the ruckus one more time before making tracks. As he drew closer, he could see the fire still raging and the lights from the police cars and fire trucks flashing all around, creating convenient shadows, and oddly beautiful dancing colors.

Nick was good at blending in. Residing in the shadows was his thing. So, he nodded once more at his handiwork and leaned into the handlebars as he gunned the bike to get out of there.

As soon as he was far enough away, Nick found a parking deck and drove up to the top to watch the final outcome. There was something about knowing that it was all done. Besides, he’d use the extra time to report his successful completion of the assignment.

He pulled the burner phone from his pocket and punched in the code to bring it to life. His fingers moved over the screen to message the code Y1 to his handler.

The reply that came up on the screen was a simple: 10-4.

Boom! Kaboom!

The immense explosion rocked the sky a moment after he received the text. Flames shot upward in a swirling, billowing manner, making a nuclear explosion of old almost look like child’s play. A large cloud rose from the fire, hanging low overhead and making it seem as if the sun had come out already. Nick actually cringed a bit when the sound reverberation made it all the way to his watching position.

“Damn, that was good,” he said, praising his work.