"I'm here. Are you sure this is the place?" said a man in a pale blue suit with thick square glasses on.234Please respect copyright.PENANA1NdgRyxVcA
"Yes, that's the place. Now, do you see a small farm with a bunch of pastures and a small brick house in the middle?" replied a voice over the phone.234Please respect copyright.PENANAagKs90bZlX
"I wouldn't call it small, but yes, I see it. I think I can also see the Keeper."234Please respect copyright.PENANA188ENkPkdq
"That's good. Go and give him the contract. They can eliminate almost any target you want."234Please respect copyright.PENANAuxeVwz1E0P
"To be honest, this guy doesn't seem to be the killing machine you described."234Please respect copyright.PENANAsYQiyuP1Bf
"The killing machine thing is just an expression. The man doesn't kill anyone himself. He uses his bees. I'm not sure how bees can decapitate a man. Whatever he does, he can get the job done, now go." The call ended abruptly.
The man put his phone back and examined the scene. The man he saw was an old, short white bearded man. Nowhere near an assassin. He was wearing dirty old 'Kurta Pajama', which was a knee-length shirt with slits on each side from waist down, and plain cotton pants, one of the traditional Indian outfits.
He was filling a bucket out of a small reservoir of water and was surrounded by a lot of bee hives on the few trees that surrounded the farm and dozens of apiaries that beekeepers use.
"Alright," said the man in the suit to no one.
He started walking down the small hill and made his way to the front door of the 'Keeper'.
The Keeper was still holding onto the bucket underwater. When the man in the suit reached about a few feet away from him, he spoke in a deep, raspy voice.
"Who are you?"
"How many American names do you know? Take any you like." replied the man in the suit.
"Alright, Mr. A for American, shouldn't you be at the Red Fort or roaming the Taj Mahal?"
"I'm not a tourist, I'm afraid," He pulled a picture out of his suit, showing the back of the picture, a small chip taped to it.
"I want some bugs exterminated."
The Keeper looked up at him for the first time and with a look of slight disgust on his face.
"I do no such things. Nor do I appreciate your terminology for your target. Call the animals for what they truly are."
"Fair enough, I need a man eliminated before the end of the month." He turned the picture around.
The Keeper's expression changed when he saw the man in the photo.
"Let's talk inside." said the Keeper.
He stood up and picked up an orange cloth to wipe his hands and swung the cloth over his shoulder.
It was not until they started walking that Mr. A passed the bucket and got to see what was inside it. He frowned at the tadpoles swimming frantically in the bucket. They glowed green even in broad daylight.
They walked towards the main gate as they walked through Mr. A took out his handkerchief and put it over his nose.
"Is it the smell or the pollen?" asked the Keeper, seeing him do this.
"The pollen. You're quite the gardener." said Mr. A, as he started to look around carefully.
That's when he saw a young girl maybe sixteen or seventeen. She was clipping a vine. Her unkempt clothes told him that she worked here full time, maybe even she lived here.
The Keeper took a seat on a wood framed, hand weaved, Indian style bed. Mr. A took a seat directly in front of him on a plastic chair, which at least had armrests.
That's when two more teenage girls came with tea and some snacks for them. They also wore traditional Indian clothes for women, with the same unkempt appearance.
"These are my daughters," said the Keeper as he took a pill and a glass of water from one of the girls.
The girls nodded to him as greeting. Strangely, it was exactly the same nod done at the exact same time, like identical twins, which they clearly were not.
As the girls left, the Keeper spoke, "The man in the picture is the son of an MLA of the area, and as far as I know, they don't have any business out of states much less abroad."
The Keeper looked at Mr. A, "Why do you want the kid dead?"
"A kid? Hardly. He's been messing with some of our...operations, and the overlords want him gone."
The Keeper thought for a while as if considering the pros and cons of the kid's death.
"Rosel," called the Keeper for one of the girls, Mr. A assumed.
And he was right. The girl working on the vines came and stood in a disciplinary stance.234Please respect copyright.PENANAeS5D8gJ1Z1
The Keeper made a head gesture, pointing towards Mr. A.
She seemed to understand and shortly returned with a small card with a random string of letters and numbers printed on it. She handed it to Mr. A.234Please respect copyright.PENANAfpazFsuHto
He noticed a very peculiar bracelet, made of silver and gold edges with a bee's head and some flowers cut out of it.
"That's a very beautiful bracelet you have." said Mr. A with a light smile. She replied with an even lighter smile and left.
"Have the payment done by tomorrow. Would you like a finger of your target as confirmation?" asked the Keeper.
"It'll be done by tonight, and no, just a picture would suffice."
One of the girls returned again and gave a file to the Keeper and picked up the empty tea cups. As he started to read the file, he said, "Close the door on your way out."
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234Please respect copyright.PENANAkkgESBRcSy
Hello everyone, I posted these to get some advice/critique/thoughts. I don't seek followers or self promotion thing just genuine opinions, even if it says 'boring' or 'good' that's sign towards improving this idea ... it's just a rough sketch if you will. Any comments will be appreciated. Thank you.
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