Before the wedding ceremony began…
A blue van slowly followed the two black Mercedes-Benz down the streets of New York. The two men in the van, the driver and one seated in the passenger seat, wore blue overalls and white baseball caps. The overalls they wore belonged to that of an electric cable company. A logo sat on the left side of their chests.
As the Benz cars stopped in front of St. Patrick's Cathedral, the van went on ahead a few blocks away to a company building. They took a turn down an alley right next to it. They stopped halfway through the alley, where there stood a backdoor leading to the building. After the driver killed the car engine, the two got out of the van. They went to the back of the van, and the driver opened the doors. Inside were two black bags. The men each took a bag and closed the doors. They went on ahead to the backdoor of the building, and right on time, the door flew open. Someone had opened the door for them from inside, and the two men went in.
A scrawny-looking man in a black suit and tie with black, short, curly hair. He stood in the narrow hall with the men in overalls, as he was the one who opened the door. The man in the suit looked on nervously at the two men in overalls.
"He's waiting for you in one of the rooms," said the man in the suit. "Please, follow me."
The man led the way through the dimly lit hall, bypassing a few empty offices. Not many of them were occupied on this other side of the building. A few seconds later, the man stopped in front of a composite door with dirty translucent glass-reinforced plastic. The man knocked on the door, and a voice inside told them to come in. The man in the suit opened the door and stood aside in the hall, allowing the men in the overalls to walk in. The door closed behind them, and the man in the suit went on down the hall quickly and didn't look back.
The man in the overalls looked around the small office room. A fan noisily spun around above them. There stood an old wooden table with an old black swivel chair behind it, facing the other side. Behind the desk was an old dusty bookshelf, and on one side of the room was a small metal table with a laptop on it. Someone sat at that table on a metal chair, and the person looked up at the men in overalls as soon as they stepped in. The young man wore a black hoodie and wore glasses. His blonde hair covered one side of his forehead, and his grey eyes looked on maliciously at the men in overalls.
"You're finally here," said the young man. "Gives us enough time to go through our plan again."
One of the men in the blue overalls huffed as he took out the cap from his head and ran a hand through his messy black hair. "What we're about to do is simple and straightforward," he said. "We don't need to go through it again."
"Get in the church, shoot the bride, and get out," spoke the man beside the black-haired man in the overalls. "Yeah, simple and straightforward if you ask me."
"It would've made so much sense if we caused a scene and took the bride hostage or something just to mess with the family for a while until they find her dead in a sewer," said the blonde-haired man.
"You're just as messed up as we thought," said the black-haired man with a grunt.
"There will be no such thing going on today," came another voice in the room. All the other three men turned to look at the chair behind the old wooden desk. They watched it as the chair swiveled around, revealing someone in a black coat seated there with a black hat that hid his eyes.
"It was just a suggestion," said the blonde-haired man. "Don't you worry about it."
"Do you have all that you need?" The man in the black coat asked, his head turned to face the men in the overalls.
The two men in the overalls consented as they lifted the bags in their hands. The man in the black coat gave a nod of his head. "You can go on ahead," he said. "Just be careful and don't get caught."
The other man in the overalls smiled, the scar below his lower lip showing itself even more under the dim light. "We'll get it done," he said. "We will make sure of it."
The two men in the overalls turned around and made their way out of the room, closing the door behind them. They took the black bags with them. The young blonde-haired man turned to look at the man seated behind the wooden desk before turning to look at the laptop.
He went on ahead to type a few things on the keyboard, and a few seconds later, four video camera windows appeared on the screen, revealing the interior of a building. It was St. Patrick's Cathedral. A few secret cameras had been installed a while ago, and the young man seated in front of his laptop started to survey the place. In one camera, most of the guests had already settled in the sanctuary, and from another, he noticed the groom and his family at the entrance of the church, talking and laughing. The blonde-haired man heard the person behind him stand up from his seat and approach him.
The other camera showed the outside entrance of the church, and another camera had a clear view of the pulpit and altar in the sanctuary. A few people were at the altar, lighting up the candles and preparing a few things. The blonde-haired man smiled as he turned to look at the man in the black coat standing beside him.
"This is going to turn out to be some wedding," said the blonde-haired man. "Everyone will be in for a stunner."
The man in the coat grumbled deeply. "It's the least that she deserves," he said. "I would've done much more than just kill her. But I needed to send a clear message to Red Lion."
The man removed the hat over his head, and the young blonde-haired man looked at him. On one side of the man's face, he had been badly burnt, and the nasty scar partly went above his right eye, so he could barely see with it. One side of his mouth had also been badly scarred. His cold, dark eyes went on to stare at the young man seated beside him.
"A killer shot to the head is a bold statement, don't you think?" asked the young man. "You should've just captured and tortured her so that she goes through the pain and suffering."
"You're right. But it's not her who I want to suffer," said the man as he leaned in closer to look at the laptop. "I want Red Lion to know that I—Andre Cortez—am still alive and kicking."