Chapter 1
“It’s the guy with the hat, right?” I whisper into my Bluetooth.
I’m on top of the Rockefeller building in New York and it’s getting irritantly windy. My dark brown waves are getting in the way of my sightline. I need to do this quick.
“Yeah, Dee. And it’s called a ‘fedora’, actually.” Replied Clay.
He’s waiting for me three rooftops away in a helicopter.
“Alright, target is in sight” I see the man in the fedora through the scope of my 6.5 mm Carcano-Mannlicher rifle. It’s my baby.
“You’re using that piece of junk, aren’t you?” I hear Clay ask me over the Bluetooth. We’re on a secured line, of course.
“This ‘piece of junk’ supposedly killed the president, Clay. So watch it! Or I might just use it on you!” I joked, with some seriousness.
Mr. Fedora should be honoured. He’s about to be killed by the same gun that killed the president. I personally don’t believe that Oswald did it, but most people do for some reason.
“Shit!” I say in frustration.
“What’s wrong, Dee?”
“Winds throwing off my scope.”
“The hurry the hell up!” yelled Clay.
This bastards giving me a migraine. Not Mr. Fedora—Clay.
“Calm your tits, Clay!” I snap.
“F*** you!”
It’s now or nothing. I’ve been trained to do this. I’ve perfected the head shot. Our client is giving us $50 mill for this guy to have a bullet in his brain. I’ll deliver.
I push against the trigger and release. I keep looking through the scope until it hits fedora man.
“Bulls-eye!” I yell happily.
“Bloody hell!” I hear Clay exclaim into my ear piece. “Now, hurry the hell over here.”
“Aye-i cap’n” I jokingly reply.
I start running across the Rockefeller rooftop, adrenaline rushing. I jump between the large gap between the buildings. I feel like frigging Batman.
“What’s you E.T.A, Dee?”
“25 seconds”
I finally see the chopper. Clay throws down the rope and I attach it to my harness as he quickly flies us away. Adrenaline won’t go away. No matter how many people I kill, it never does. The thrill gets greater and greater.
I use the rope to climb myself into the chopper. I gently place my beautiful mannlicher into it’s case and sit beside Clay.
“Good job, Dee. Roque’s got a surprise for you when you get back.” He winked.
Roque? I thought. Roque’s the head of the organization, the head macho. He’s also my dad. I just never call him that. And I haven’t seen him in about a year. This isn’t exactly a typical family business.
We get back to HQ right outside Manhattan. My best friend, Cassie, meets me when I jump out the helicopter. I leave Clay to clean up.
“How’d it go, Dee?” Cass asks excitedly. She hasn’t been on a mission in a few weeks so she’s extra curious.
“Blew the mofos head off, Cass.” I joke.
We did our secret extra special handshake but I felt someone walking towards us. I turned to see James down the hall. James is Roque’s “secretary.”
