“O’Connell” is the fifth installment in the return of Her Campus Eckerd’s original series “The Jane Doe Chronicles,” a mystery series following Jane Doe as she struggles to escape from the Company, an assassin training school–where she was the top student–and as she attempts to piece together the story of her past, dodging a few bullets and making some unlikely friends along the way. If you missed the first four chapters or need a refresher after our hiatus, check them out here.
My black t-shirt was being held together by a few pieces of fabric that hadn’t been burned away. The cool air of the service hallways stung the charred skin of my back to the point that I was holding back my tears from the pain. I had been searching the concrete halls for the building’s security system. I was sure that any guards would be somewhere else in the building to figure out what was going on the top floor.
I was surprised by the lack of security I had faced setting up the bombs. When I had originally read through the file with the plan, there wasn’t much mention of security, only that it would be taken care of beforehand. I didn’t question it. However, past training had instilled the need to tie up loose ends.
Finally, I found a metal green door that was wide open with the word “Security” spray painted across in black. I pulled the gun I had stored in my boot and held it out in front of me. I approached the door as quietly as I could in case a stray guard stayed behind. When I entered, however, I saw that it wouldn’t have been necessary. My gun fell to my side in shock.
Bodies in matching security uniforms littered the floor of the control center. I rushed to the closest corpse and checked the pulse. Dead. I checked the next one. He was dead too. While I saw the wounds in their chests, I couldn’t help but check every one of them. They were all dead. On closer inspection of the wounds, I took note of the size of the holes in the victim’s chest.
Emptying the chamber of the pistol still in my hand, I held the bullet up to the hole. My eyes widened at the match. I looked up to the screen to see my own face on one of the screens. The metallic click of the bullets hitting the tile floor echoed in my head as I raced to the control panel and tried to erase the footage. Every button was futile.
In the upper screens, I began to see police cars and fire trucks pulling in outside the building. I had to get out of here. I looked around for something to make me invisible to them. A dark jacket hung from a peg near the door, so I grabbed that and put it on, wincing at the sting of my back against the fabric. I lifted the hood over my face.
I looked back at the scene in front of me. The bodies on the floor near the gun and my face on the computer screens. I was caught. I didn’t know what to do. In frustration, I crossed the room and grabbed the empty gun. Gun in hand, I began to smash as many screens as I could in a matter of minutes until all of them were cracked and black. Satisfied that it would buy me some time in the confusion, I ran swept from the room and ran down the rest of the way to the service entrance.
Cool night air greeted my face as I entered the alley way. The roar of my fire burned over head and the cries of firemen, policemen and bystanders could be heard around the corner. I continued to run in the opposite direction. I came out to another street that appeared empty and saw my truck parallel parked on the side.
Once I reached my retreat, I quickly unlocked the car and rushed down the street into the blur of other cars downtown. O’Connell had decided the rendezvous would be in an old abandoned cigar factory in Ybor City, the area of town just next to downtown. As I drove into the area I could tell that it wasn’t necessarily the nicest neighborhood with bars and clubs lining the streets. The closer I got to the factory, however, the darker and further I got from neon lights of the nightlife.
Finally, I pulled up in front of the given address, leaned my forehead on the steering wheel and took in a deep breath. My God, what have I done, I thought. I lifted my eyes to the dark silhouette of the factory and the dark cars parked outside. I pulled out the crumbled piece of paper in my pocket and skimmed over the words in the dim moonlight. As they repeated in my mind next to the images of the guards, my resolved steeled itself for what I was about to do.
I jumped out of the truck and began to march my way to the entrance with my back as straight as I could make it. The piece of paper was stuffed back into the back pocket of my jeans. I held my head high and felt the second gun tucked securely into my boot.
The door to the factory opened with a rusty squeal. A single dusty light bulb hung over the head of Mr. O’Connell as if he had just concocted another idea to ruin my night. The smirk on his face and hired hands on either side only strengthened that assumption.
“Good evening, Mrs. Doe,” he said in a pleasant, confident tone.
“I would call this evening a lot of things O’Connell, but ‘good’ would not be one of them.”
He gasped in mock shock. “What? Did something go wrong?”
“Nothing that I can’t handle. Now, if you will just hand over the cash, our work here will be done.”
He nodded to the man to his left who produced a suitcase from behind. He stepped in front of me and opened the case for me to observe the money. My eyes scanned over the piles of cash and I mentally did the math of how much there was. It seemed to be enough to cover my share.
The suitcase was closed with a snap in front of my face and turned to me to take.
“We have already wired the payment to Mr. Smith. That just left your cut,” he explained, before I could ask any questions. I firmly grasped the handle and stepped away from the group of imposing men.
With the knowledge that I was now free of any contracts since the deal had been paid, I pulled the gun from my shoe and pointed it at O’Connell. The help pointed their barrels at me, but I quickly disabled them in a matter of seconds by shooting the hands. Then, I was aiming back at my original target.
“What is the meaning of this,” he asked, almost sounding surprised?
“I know why you were targeting Artemis, O’Connell. I also know a lot of other things about tonight’s mission, but I’m sure you know the rest of it.”
“You have no proof.”
“Really? Give a few hours, I’ll find something. It wasn’t wise to mess with someone trained by Company. Smith should have told you that.”
He chuckled darkly before striding toward me like my threat didn’t faze him. He got so close, that the barrel of my gun was just touching the crisp grey fabric of his suit.
“You forget your place, Jane Doe. From what I hear, you never had what it took to be a Company Agent,” he laughed. “You don’t have the gall to kill anyone, much less me.”
We glared into each other’s eyes, neither flinching or making a move toward the other. Each of us dared the other to make the first move. After a few moments, O’Connell chuckled as if it was ridiculous that a nineteen-year-old girl was pointing a gun at his chest. Then, he grasped the gun hoping to rip it from my grasp. However, my finger squeezed around the trigger and the unthinkable happened.
The pop of a gunshot echoed through the room…and a small red hole grew over George O’Connell’s heart.
I stood in shock as I watched him fall to the ground, the surprise still etched on his face. He crumbled to the ground at my feet. His breathing got more and more shallow while the blood pumped from his body.
At his final breath, all went silent. The guards were passed out from the pain of their hands. I stood there for what seemed like a lifetime or two, staring at the life I had just taken. My breath came in pants as the realization of what I just did came to me.
George O’Connell was dead.
And I was the one who killed him.