Whispers of a shot (but you didn't hear it)

1

On the roof of a six-storey apartment, Shiro was cold; the September wind had picked up in the hour he'd sat there, causing the building to creak beneath him. The black turtleneck that clung to his skin did little to protect him from the chill that sunk deep into his bones, and the balaclava didn't stop the wind biting at his nose and lips.
He was alone, with only the whistle of air and the general hum of the city around him.

"Champion, you've got a shot at your twelve in five. Knife is on the ground, Ulaz and deathday are in position!"

He gave a chuckle at Matt's overly enthusiastic voice crackling though his earpiece, hoping it would be lost to the wind and not picked up by the microphone taped to his lapel. "'Deathday'? Are you seriously using that?" He questioned jokingly as he leant down to look through the scope of the gun perched on the ledge. A finger tightened around the cold metal trigger, sending a small shock up the flesh of his arm. His other hand went under the barrel, clinking as metal connected with metal.
"Look, if I'm helping this joint, I want a cool name that fits my cool and mysterious persona!"
He could picture Matt's smirk as the scope focused. Him and Ulaz were sat in a black van about two blocks away, lurking until their target was eliminated to swoop in and hide the body, pick Keith and him up, and get back to headquarters as soon as possible.

Below him, he could see Keith slowly plodding down the pavement, grey hoodie and oversized sweatpants blending into the shadows of the night. From here, the younger man looked inconspicuous, but Shiro knew how many weapons he was concealing under the baggy clothes. If he missed this shot, Keith would be there to clean up, sneak across the street and pull a dagger out of one of his many pockets to deal the killing blow. It was rare he ever missed, but it was useful having that unstoppable insurance just in case.

"Knife is in position."

As Keith neared the corner between high rise blocks, his target appeared out of the shadows on the other side of the street. A tall man, wiry but hunched slightly, with wispy white hair that almost looked like cat ears on the top of his head. He looked innocent, but Shiro knew better. He was one of those, a member of the Galrans.

He was wearing such a nice suit, Shiro thought as he lined up his shot with the nervous turn of the man's head, it would be such a shame to ruin it.

He'd have to make this one clean.

"This is Champion, I have the shot."

"This is Ulaz. Take the shot, Champion."

As the man began to walk down the street, Shiro took a deep breath in, and exhaled slowly.

"Champion, you're losing him. Hurry up."

He barely heard the shot as his finger gently squeezed the trigger, instead focusing on controlling the knockback of the rifle that unceremoniously jammed into his shoulder. Through the scope, he saw the man crumple to the floor, no evidence of what had happened except a dark spot on the side of his head, dead on the temple.
He was proud; a clean shot.

"He's down."

Within seconds, the black van turned the corner, pulling up hastily next to the body on the pavement. He saw someone jump out the back as the doors were flung open; it must have been Ulaz, it was too bulky to have been Matt. He also saw Keith stealthily run across the empty road, jumping into the passenger seat next to the driver. He didn't know this driver. Allura was a big fan of hiring a new one every mission and then wiping their memories of any incident whatsoever.

As the back doors slammed shut, he picked up the gun leisurely and slung it over his shoulder, heading towards the main staircase back down the building. As he pulled the steel door open, his watch flashed 00:10