Untitled Part 1

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Get down on the ground

Don't move, make a sound

He waits. The sunlight drifts lazily through the trees above him, glinting off his arm and the remaining patches of unmelted snow protected in the shade. Birds singing in the trees above his head is calming, but he must stay focused. Must do this last job before he rests again. He knows he rests between missions; different men, older men are his handlers whenever he wakes up. Time slips away quickly while he sleeps. But then he is given missions and it's good to be needed again.

The grass beneath him does not betray his position as he shifts his weight slightly. Slowly, slowly, he slides his elbow down to relieve some of the pressure it puts on his back at the angle in which he will need it to shoot. But the target isn't here yet, won't be here for a while. So he can make himself a little more comfortable. Comfort isn't a priority, but maintaining a good physical condition in order to complete the mission is important. Or so he tells himself. He waits.

Finally, the door to the cabin opens and a man steps out. He stretches, perhaps preparing for a jog. The Soldier grows tense, finger resting lightly on the trigger as he assesses the likelihood of success. Before he can finish the mission, another person steps out; a body guard of some sort. Not that he can do much guarding from a sniper rifle. Still, he manages to block his direct shot and he waits as the two men speak and laugh about something. The target gestures toward the area where the Soldier waits, and he briefly considers taking the shot before reassuring himself that this is no time to be rash. The mission objectives clearly stated he must be alone. He can wait.

The body guard begins walking away from his target, turning back to say something. The target salutes him with a smile, and the guard continues into the trees. Blinking away a strange thought that there should be rubble, not trees, around them, the Soldier settles down and listens hard. If his position has been noted, he will certainly hear the other man before he can get close enough to be a threat. Carefully ascertaining that the target is now alone and will soon be leaving the cabin, he exhales and fires. The rifle is silenced, but his cover is blown. Time to go. Mechanically, he sits back on his heels and disassembles the weapon, storing it in a duffel bag, which he then swings over his shoulder. Surveying the area to be sure he's left nothing to indicate his presence, he turns and begins walking to the extraction point.

No more, no control

You do what you're told

The trek through the forest takes a few hours, and the sun is at the tree-line by the time he reaches his destination. As he marches, he can't help but think of other, similar times he's gone for miles through dense foliage on missions. None of them are clear, and images flit through his head of other forests, other targets, other... comrades. Focus, he reminds himself. Other missions may not have been alone, but that's hardly relevant now. He works better alone. He must, or they would not have sent him here by himself.

When he arrives at the abandoned ski lodge where he was told to go, he cannot shake a feeling of unease, a feeling that there is something important he needs to know. The mission is complete, he tells himself. It was a success. Now he is done, and will soon rest until the next one. There shouldn't be anything to worry about, but he can't help it. He knocks on the door and waits, biting his lip and fighting the sudden and bizarre urge to run into the trees, and keep running.

The door opens before he can act on such an irrational idea, and a technician he seems to know smiles at him, beckoning him inside. Obediently, he follows him into the lodge and down the hall to a makeshift lab. It's familiar, but a sense of discomfort fills him at the sight of it. Still, it is where he is supposed to be, what he is supposed to do, so he walks in and sits down on a metal chair where he always sits. The man who opened the door and another man come and hook things up to him, monitoring him and scanning him for injuries. Which is unnecessary, he thinks but doesn't say. It was hardly a dangerous mission.

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