𝙳𝚘𝚗'𝚝 ʟᴇᴀᴠᴇ ᴍᴇ || 𝐹𝑒𝓁𝒾𝓍

The Fear That Lingers In Us All

"Caucasian male, late twenties. Has a wife, 37, and two kids, twin boys, age 12. Been working with Mr Porez for about a year now. Body count continues to rise, this includes kids. Mainly uses bombs. Boss says take him out." My partner quickly explains, knowing I get easily annoyed. Not that he did a good job explaining, but there isn't much I can do about it now. I've been here for 22 months now, everybody knows to be quick and straight to the point with me. I'm impatient and quick paced, but precise.

"Where the hell is he?" I growled out to myself, the intensity of this mission putting me on edge. This guy being public enemy number one.

"He should be here in exactly nine minutes." I huffed out looking away from my scope and pulled away from the gun while sitting up. I pointed behind my partner at the bottle of water. He stared at me for a second before quickly looking behind him and grabbed it before handing it to me.

"Thank you." I mumbled. I took a long sip from it, as he gave me a shocked look.

"What?" I asked him dryly.

"You said thanks." He responded, almost in awe. I rolled my eyes at him.

"I almost always say thanks, I just don't say please that often. However you should, under certain circumstances, say thank you." I shrugged and took another sip from my water.

"How come you don't say please?" He asked and I shrugged.

"I don't know, I mean, I say it. But to only two people. Sometimes three if I'm in a good mood. I guess I hate the way it sounds, sounds like begging." I tried to explain, slightly joking at the end.

"You joke also?" He joked back in amazement once again. I rolled my eyes at this, almost grinning back.

"Nobody's to know, got that?" I half faked a glare at him. He nodded, hiding a small smile.

"So who does the famous no soul actually have a soul for?" He quipped. I gave him a look, but rolled my eyes.

"My sister, my father, sometimes my mother." I listed, shrugging. Family. He nodded, seeming to get it.

"You said sister first, usually people say them last." He observed. I nod at his observation skills.

"I love my sister, with all my heart. I love her more than my job." I explained. He nods more this time, everyone knowing my work ethic.

"Do you ever get letters from her?" He questions. I shook my head.

"She hates me." He smiles nervously, an awkward chuckled followed. I give a defeated nod, a failed smile.

"Yep." He shook his head, sighing out.

"Why?" I shook my head, giving a small shrug to dodge.

"No more diddle daddling, he's to arrive in approximately thirty seconds." I turn my professional voice back on, rolling back to my rifle. I look through the scope, confused when I don't see anybody in the chair, sitting in the window to the shop across the street. That's where he always is, he should be sitting there, right. Now. I did a quick sweep, not seeing a guy that fits the description. I looked up from the rifle and looked over the side of the building.

"He's late." I state coldly.

"Three thirty every day. Maybe something got him held up or something." My partner tried. I shook my head and looked at him.

"No, he's been doing this every day. He wouldn't just suddenly not. I doubt he's gotten himself killed. " I walk through, while looking back. I almost did a double take, my eyes landed on a man that matched the description. Though, not in his normal spot inside and in his seat, no. He was standing out front of the building across the street looking up and right at me. He knew! I reached for my handgun on my person, quickly going to point it at him.