A Killers Heart Stolen

Chapter 14

So after we left the mountain-view point we went back to my place and we made love, again, this time was so much better, just gonna say it. I quietly get up from the bed and pack my things quietly too, 3 shirts, 3 pairs of sorts (kakis)  and 5 pairs of socks and hiking boots, bandana and a pair of black sunglasses.  I change into some yoga pants and a tank top and find a piece of paper to write a note for Jeremy on.

Babe,

I am so sorry for leaving. I had to get on a plane to Paris early and I didn’t want to wake you up. I will be back in three days, I promise. We can go on a date of your choosing next time. There’s a key under the mat for when you leave. I hope you’re not too mad. I’ll text you when I land.

See ya love

-K

I quickly go into my office, grab my materials, sniper rifle and 3 magazines and then lock it. I put on the Biometric lock then hide my other gun that was behind the coat rack. 

I grab my keys then head out the door. I drive to the airport and get a weird look from the front desk lady when she looks at my destination. I simply smile and move on. I am at ease because my bag gets through security with ease. Let’s just say that there are ways to get around the system. Like anything else, it can be beat. I sit in my first class seat and put my Beats headphones and put on my plane ride mix. The song Rock Me by One Direction comes on and I smirk. I lean my head back and catch up on some sleep since it’s a long flight to Abbottabad Pakistan. About 13 hours actually, I listened to the music and fell asleep.

I am woken up by a nice looking stewardess. I take my head phones off and head off the plane. I hate Pakistan, like it’s right underneath Russia, but above Iran and Iraq. I head to a bathroom to change into a more appropriate outfit. I put on a plain tan button-up shirt and a pair of khaki pants. It’s early and the suns up so on go my sunglasses. I put on the blonde wig that my alias has along with purple eyes. 

I walk out into the bright sun and head for the rental car place. I take out my fake ID, number 12, Lily Walters. I head off to the usual meeting place which was a flea market of sorts.  I put the bandana on and wait on the hood of my out-dated Chevy truck. I saw a guy, my contact in Pakistan, walking towards me with a manila folder. I walk the opposite direction and did the simplest passing of information you could do. I make a quick look through some sections, bout a new bandana and sunglasses then headed to my truck. I get in it and check for any devices that weren’t on it before. None, so I open it up and look at the face of the man I was chosen to kill. I look at what method they would prefer, bullet. They know that my bullets aren’t traceable, especially since my family makes their own. Every generation learns and makes their own making it different, like leaving a signature. Mine is that on the actual bullet there’s a bubble. I decided on it when I was 9 give me a break. You can’t change the signature once it’s created and used.

I look to see where the safe house is and it’s in an actual house this time, which is a change of pace. When I get there I leave the bandana on in case there are cameras or bugs. I run my sweep and find only one, which I destroyed. I took off the bandana and breathe in that hot air. I pull out my scope and find my target is in the house at my one o’clock. I set it up and look at the file that the CIA put together on the guy. He has a pattern that he follows every day, which is good for me. If he sticks to a pattern it means that it’ll be easy to find when he’s the most vulnerable.

It happens to be when he’s doing a walkthrough of the training camps here. The CIA have coordinates of where it’s at and I just have to wait for tomorrow to make my move. The Agency was nice enough to stock the fridge full of my favorite foods and drinks. I get out some spaghetti and an orange soda and set up by the window. I fall asleep by the blacked out windows with my glock in my hand.