EAGLE EYES // Thomas Shelby

Chapter One

"You get me that fucking Shelby, or I'll have your head." I don't even know the name of my fucking boss. He's just 'sir' to me. I nodded and went to my room to get dressed for the little ball thing. I don't even know if I can handle this type of fucking work. I don't even know these people.

The walls were beige, the music was loud and everybody was talking. Nobody could see me in the corner, observing every movement that was being made. I knew about the hitman in the back, I knew about Mrs. Shelby's death. I knew it was all going to happen very soon.

Thomas Shelby stood in a trio, talking to somebody his wife likes. It was obvious. He was giving the death glare towards the priest who had just walked in. John Hughes. The blue sapphire pendant was on the newly wedded woman, just waiting for the curse to be taken off. The hitman began down the stairs. Looks like he decided not to pay me.

I do jobs for smart people with money. I don't do jobs for smart people who don't pay me. The Russians have yet to pay me. They owe me. The hitman was walking slowly, making conversation while advancing to his target.

Grace Shelby laughed with her husband and her friend while I was trying to figure out where the rest of the Italian and Russian scum were. They filled this place. I wanted my money. I had done more than enough for those bastards. They owe me more.

I walked to the middle brother making eye contact with the wife and the other person. Tatiana was looking at me with a fearful look. She deserved it.

"Mr. Shelby, keep your wife close. She is in danger." I kept a firm hand on his shoulder. He shrugged it off and looked at me as if I were crazy. He had the right too.

"Who the fuck are you to tell me what to do?" He asked me, looking me up and down. I made eye contact with him, his blue eyes meeting my brown ones. I didn't answer him. "Huh?" he asked again, stepping closer to me.

I didn't respond in any way, just walked towards the hitman who was now spotting me in the crowd. I reached into my pocket and grabbed my switchblade, still keeping my hand in my pocket. The two Shelby's were now smiling and kissing as the room slowly started to clear out. It was odd. The hitman was coming my way.

Instead of finishing out the job i was supposed to do, i stood in front of the hitman, moving his arm to the left making him fire off a shot to no one. Of course my actions made me suffer a consequence of being pushed to the ground, shot at, then hearing another shot fired while my vision was starting to black out.

I knew this was coming, so I decided to save a worthy man. I knew I wasn't going to die, hell, I could never die by someone else's hands. I knew a medic would pick up my limp body and carry me to a hospital since I had a hole in my body. I couldn't really say the same for Grace Shelby. She was the one who got a hollow bullet.

I was ordered to get information on Thomas Shelby by a gang in Queens NY, which I was supposed to answer to. They don't know jack shit. They won't be getting to know anything because I've decided I don't work for them anymore. I decided I don't work for the drug cartel in Texas either. The twenty six years I've lived has been for someone else. I'm done doing other people's work.

I felt myself being lifted up and carried somewhere. I didn't know who exactly was, but they were having a hard time lifting the whole 5'10" and 140 pounds of me. They finally made it to the gravel where I was being put into a car and taken somewhere. Somebody was in the seat next to me.

"Who the hell are you?" he asked, his voice rough as they reached into my pocket and pulled out one of the American made cash stacks. I had been paid half by the Italian when we met up in the courtyard where it was empty and quiet. He paid me $700 in twenties. That's all he had. I was supposed to get fourteen hundred fifties.

"John, look at this." the rough sounding man talked to another man.

"That's American..." The younger one said.

"It's a lot of cash." The rough one concluded. They put it back in my pocket and continued to search my other pockets, finding nothing really. Just a pilot's license.