When Mikala woke up she had a pounding headache and felt like she was hit by a truck. Unfortunately it wasn't the result of drinking too much the night before. A hangover would've been easier to handle than the beating she got while doing a contract killing. The job bruised the cold blooded killer's ego and her gorgeous face.

"No wonder people whine so much when they're mugged." Mikala mumbled as she slowly got out of bed. Every muscle in her body ached and she dreaded looking in the mirror.

An hour later Mikala walked into the Con-Air HQ and took off her sunglasses. Her black eye got a few curious and concerned looks. The first person to question her about it was Charmed.

"The job you gave me to do yesterday wasn't as easy as I expected." Mikala explained and followed Charmed into her office. "I really underestimated the target."

Charmed sat down behind her desk and picked up a small bell. Hmm that's a new toy, Mikala thought as Charmed rang the bell. A moment later a man wearing a tuxedo walked into the office. Charmed told him to bring them coffee. Mikala was envious. "I want one of those." She commented and pointed at the bell. "Does he bring food too?"

After a tray of coffee was brought into the office Mikala sat down on one of the comfortable leather chairs in front of Charmed's desk. As she picked up a cup of coffee she noticed a bruise on her delicate hand and sighed. "That bitch really got the best of me."

The beat up mobster slowly took a drink of coffee and began telling Charmed about the job she did the day before.

"Whoever put a contract out on Vanessa Logan is a saint in my book. She was a real piece of work. I'm surprised no one put a bullet in her head a long time ago." The cold blooded killer lit a cigarette and continued, "I don't think anyone will shed a tear when they read today's newspaper headline, Broadway Actress, Vanessa Logan Found Dead."

Mikala glanced at the small lamp on Charmed's desk and recalled how the target's name was in lights on the theater marquee.

"I followed Miss Logan from her apartment in Manhattan to the theater where she had rehearsal yesterday afternoon. I bribed a man at the door to let me in the theater then I watched the rehearsal. Miss Logan wasn't that bad when she was in character. In between scenes she was a raging bitch. She threw her script at the director, threatened to quit if the lighting wasn't just right and yelled at her assistant because her coffee had too much sugar. I don't know how those people put up with her. It wouldn't surprise me if the theater janitor spent his life savings to put a hit on her."

"After rehearsal I went backstage and mingled with the cast and crew. The target didn't socialize with anyone. She was in her dressing room yelling at wardrobe people about her costumes. While I was waiting for the right time to go in there and wack her I met a strange man backstage. He walked up to me and said, 'Hi Mikala.' I didn't recognize him so naturally I asked, 'Who are you?' He just smiled and walked away. I guess people think being mysterious is cute. I hate it. I'd love to shoot the next person who knows me, but won't tell me who they are."

"The wardrobe people finally left Miss Logan's dressing room and I went in. The target was sitting at a make up table smoking a cigarette. When she looked in the mirror and saw me a few feet behind her she didn't look surprised. I didn't have my gun out yet, but she knew why I was there. She said, 'You must be a hitter. What's the price on my head?' I shook my head and answered, 'I can't tell you that.' I didn't want her to try to buy off her contract. I hate when targets do that. It takes all the fun out of a job. All that planning for nothing is like a lot of foreplay then..... you know."

Mikala frowned and Charmed laughed at the unspoken complaint.

"The target turned around and asked me, 'How did a pretty gal like you become a hitter?' Like I said before, she was a good actress, but not that good. I could see through her. I knew she was only acting nice to try to talk her way out of becoming fish food. Even though she really didn't give a damn I answered her question anyway. I told her I was born to do this job, raised by hitters and taught how to use a gun before I learned how to read. You know how it is for us, killing is as natural as saying hello to an old friend. That reminds me, a few days ago I saw the grandson of a friend of our ancestors. He said your father killed his father in the recent war." Mikala smiled and added, "I wish Little Jace was here so I could tell him nice shot."

"Where was I? Hmmm, I told her I was raised by hitters then I took out my gun. She held up her hand and said, 'Please, don't.' and a few other lines targets typically say. I aimed the gun at her head and just as I was about to pull the trigger she picked up a bottle of perfume from the make up table and threw it at me. She should've been a pitcher for The Yankees. The bottle hit the side of my face so hard I swear I saw stars. It stunned me long enough for her to knock the gun out of my hand. Before I could see straight she punched me and knocked me down. I was on the floor and she was kicking me and screaming, 'I'll kill you before you kill me.' For a few seconds I thought she might do it. She kept kicking me and I thought, 'This is it. I'm going to die.' but then she made a mistake, she stopped before she finished the job."

"She knelt down next to me, grabbed a handful of my hair and said, 'Got nothing to say, pretty hitter?' What did she expect me to say? Please stop? She smacked me across the face and yelled, 'SAY SOMETHING, PRETTY HITTER!' I laid there like I couldn't move a muscle, opened my mouth and gestured for her to move closer to me. She put her face close to mine and I whispered, 'You're going to look nice wearing cement shoes.' I don't think that's what she wanted to hear, but she laughed. That gave me an opening. I grabbed her neck and squeezed as hard as I could until she was down on the floor on her back. A second later I was on top of her with my gun pointed at her face. You'll never believe what she had the nerve to say. She was beat, but still had a high and mighty attitude until the end. She said, 'Pull the trigger, bitch.' so I did."

After a few details about how she got rid of the actress's body Mikala pointed at the bell on Charmed's desk and asked, "If you ring that will the man in a tux bring me a bottle of aspirin?"

Charmed nodded and rang the bell then put an envelope of money on the desk and slid it towards Mikala.

The cold blooded killer picked up the envelope and smiled. "I love my job."