Griffin-
He landed softly and cut the parachute, rolling on the green hill. Standing, he glanced up into the clear blue sky. Griffin cocked his head listening, in the distance was the roar of the plane engine, and below that closer. A single long scream, the cry cut off abrutly and there was a thud.
He glanced over at the other end of the clearing, Jason Thomas lay dead on the ground. When his body was found, the police would confirm his parachute never deployed. Turning he rolled his parachute up and stuffed it in the car. Tugging off the red haired wig, and pulling out the contacts.
Pulling the leather jacket on, he started the car, and drove down the forest trail. The ground was damp but that didn't matter, even if the cops got a tread the car was untraceable. Just like everthing else he owned, just like him. There was a good reason his family were called ghosts.
---
The cell phone rang as Griffin left the lecture hall. Glancing around he made sure no one was close before answering. "What now?"
"You idiot, I told you to make it look like an accident! So why are the police running a murder investigation?" The voice was angry, the client was even using something to disuise his voice. Not that it mattered, Griffin always knew who he worked for, so they couldn't double cross him.
He rolled his eyes, sarcasm thick in his low voice as strode down the hall. "What did you think would happen? Jason was the fourth Thomas to end up 'accidentally' dead. The cops might dismiss one accident, or maybe two. But four, and all of them blood related? That screams foul play, if not outright murder."
Raking his hand through short dark hair he glared at he cell phone. "Look if you're too chicken to go on, just pay me for the targets I've already taken out." He paused then added as an afterthought. "Oh and advise against going to the police, you wouldn't make it to the station and it would not be pretty."
There was a squeak on the other end, then the client spoke. "I've already gone to far. Finish the job, if you can." There was a click and then the dial tone.
Sighing, Griffin hung up and pocketed the phone. Ducking his head to avoid the rain he ran out into the Chicago morning.
