The Girl Behind The Bullets

F I V E

The Corinthia Hotel in central London is definitely worth the expensive price tag that accompanies it. Money is like everything else in life, secondary. With the danger risk that comes with the job you can imagine the pay I receive is pretty good and I'm lucky enough to have enough money in offshore accounts to save me if needs be. My offshore accounts are probably a bit like those owned by my target today Mr Oliver Weatherly. For him it would be too risky to keep the money in the UK so its sent to places like the Cayman Islands because of their very low tax rates.

Adding to that are a list of charities and voluntary organisations which Mr Weatherly donates to on a regular basis. As i sit cross legged on the large pristine white bed, i read from the sheets provided by the client. Going by the dates and amounts given, he has been giving more frequently and more money to these chosen groups. I wonder if he is trying to spread out his newly stolen money to erase suspicion or ease his conscious. Doesn't matter, he still stole the money and a right doesn't cancel out a wrong no matter who you are.

I lower this set of sheets to the bed and pick up a more colorful set that await in line. The first in the pile is an aerial view of London city that is littered with red arrows and green circles indicating key locations and opportune moments. As i look down on the map i can see where I have marked out the targets house and work place, where he likes to eat and his running routes. In green i have circles areas where an attack could be possible and an escape almost definite. Now there are lots of places to attack, the city is full of roads and traffic which make for great escape material but one area stood out more to me than the others. Its here i remove the first page to reveal a number of photos which i took today. At first i relive the photo i took of the front view of the popular salad bar, people push in and out eager to get their greedy hands on the yummy food.

There's a single door with a number of seats either side for those wishing to enjoy the weather. I took this photo from the cafe across the road and i place myself in a mental scenario. If i use a small silenced weapon, i would still have to make it visible and shoot it leaving myself open to witnesses. Then i imagine myself being seated on one of those outdoor seats just outside the salad bar. It would be easy enough to just make the nuzzle visible a pop a silent cap into Mr Weatherly as he leaves. The crowd would then go crazy and i could make my escape with the crowds. Using a sniper and going long range is out of the question due to the location of the salad bar and the fact its tightly surrounded by tall buildings. I lift my head from the sheets and ponder on the thought, yeah it's possible. His bodyguards are unlikely to see an attack so close range so that minimises the risk of them assuming it was me. The next issue is that I need a confirmed kill and the only way to leave a scene knowing you have a confirmed kill is to get a head shot. The person is dead before their body hits the ground. Unlike a chest shot there is a chance they will live. I will take chances with being caught and all that but I won't take chances when I come to making sure the target is dead. If your target survives then your life will just get a whole lot harder.

So I will need a handgun that is small enough to hold a silencer and hide in my jacket and one that has little recoil and noise. That shouldn't be a problem I think as I fall backwards onto the cloud like bed. My body sinks into the soft covers like a feather settling on the ground. I run over different variables and possible issues that could or might not happen as I do with every mission just like I was trained to do by The Company. I use everything X has taught me in a mission, his voice can still be heard inside my head. If I'm doing something wrong it feels like he is standing over me whispering in my ear telling me to fix it. I hear his voice before every kill, he always says the same thing that originated from when I killed for the first time, from when I killed my father.
X said to me, 'kill him' and that's what I did. Just hearing and reliving X saying those two words provides me with more control. It re enforces the point that I am in control because after all I'm the one doing the killing.
- - - -
The next afternoon:

"Just a black coffee please" I say as I look up to the young female waitress as she takes my order in front of the salad bar. She smiles and nods as she scribbles down my order on her notebook before walking off to take another order from the table next to mine. I sit alone at a two person table to the left of the salad bar if you were looking at it from the front. The sun is shining so the demand for our door seating is particularly high. I was lucky to grab this table while I could, it's fairly important that I'm seated here. On the small metal table in front of me lays a small glass vase with a single flower in it and a book which I bought as a prop. I sit with my legs crossed with my back facing the window of the salad bar and my front facing out the street in front. I'm dressed causally with denim skinny jeans and a pair of sneakers but I do have my long black trench coat on which conceals my weapon which rests upon my lap under the material. My eyes are hidden behind behind sun glasses which suits the sunny day and looks more inconspicuous.
I glance down to my watch which shows me it's 12:30pm, my target should be here any minute.
As I wait, the waitress delivers my coffee which I let sit on the table to cool down. Instead I pick up the book and start reading it, or so it seems to anyone who wants to watch me. I flick pages every few minutes to act the part but really my eyes are scanning the flow of people entering the bar, looking for my man and surely enough I spot him a mile off. With three body guards dressed in black creating a triangle around the middle aged greying plump man, they couldn't look more obvious. As they approach the entry to the bar, one of the guards slows to a stop and waits outside while the others follow Mr Weatherly. He brushes past me as he enters the salad bar. I keep on flicking pages on the book as I shift in my chair. I slowly reach down and slide my hand into my coat, my fingers soon finding the grip of the gun. My eyes stay on the people around me who all seem completely oblivious to what's about to happen. I keep a closer eye on the body guard who is waiting a mere five metres from me. I look down to the gun and using my knowledge of its length and accuracy, manoeuvre it into position for a head shot. I keep flicking the pages and watching the people until the first body guard brushes by me. Any second now I think as X's words rush to my head and take control of my body.

'Kill him'

I think of those words as the smell of my targets cologne enters the air just before he passes by me. I slowly put down the book I'm reading and wait for the next guard to pass by. Now with all four of them to my front I find the trigger of my gun which is pointed discretely at Mr Weatherly's head. I take breath just before, calming my body and prepping myself.

*bang*

My eyes flutter multiple times as the people around me and the target himself all crash to the ground. I stay rooted to my chair as glass falls around me, small shards hit my face as the window behind me shatters into a million tiny pieces. I look to my target in confusion and watch as his body guards whip out their guns and scan the area for the person who just shot a gun. However, pure confusion takes over because something isn't right here.

I didn't fire my gun, someone else did.
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