A Marine Turned Assassin {NCIS}

Chapter 15: I Looked Down The Scope And There You Were In The Crosshairs

9th February 2017
Natalia

I sat up a little and Matías tightened his grip around me, I pushed the hair out of my face and looked for a clock.

"Go back to sleep," he mumbled and pushed me back so I was laying down again, "you don't have to get up it's quarter to seven."

I laid my head back down on his arm which I had been using as a pillow and turned to face him. "I've got to go."

He swore under his breath "and you need to check on EJ, Papá wants him secure after this."

Matt saluted and I grabbed his right hand and raised it. "Wrong hand." I pointed out.

He rolled his eyes and sat up, detangling our limbs, shrugging on a sweater and some jeans. I tossed his Marlboro's in his direction and he caught them with a grin, "thanks." He scrubbed a hand through his light brown hair, and flipping open the cigarette packet.

I swung my legs out of bed, cringing in the cool morning air "don't be long, I'm going for a shower." I didn't want LJ, despite being knocked out on sleeping pills, to be left alone for too long, he could awake at any point.

He smirked "want some company?"

"Be quick and I'll think about it."

LJ was just beginning to stir when I looked into his room after the shower, I walked in and shook his arm slightly, he turned and faced me "Mum?" He mumbled, rubbing his eyes sleepily, I shook my head "no."

At the sound of my voice LJ sat bolt upright, pulling against the zip-ties as he fought to get away, he cringed against the wall, like a terrified animal.

"Woah, woah, woah, Kid, calm down before you hurt yourself." I grabbed his shoulders so he woud face me "I'm gonna take the ties off. You try anything and I swear-"

"I wont. I promise I won't." his eyes were wide and fearful, but he wasn't lying, I flicked open the knife and slid it in-between the skin and plastic and carefully cut it off. "If you go into the kitchen M is making pancakes."

He nodded. One movement up. One movement down.

I slipped the knife into my pocket and checked that the Remington was still tucked neatly in the waistband of my jeans in the small of my back; holding it a holster would be too eye-catching, while putting it in the rucksack with the rifle would mean it was too far from reach if anything was to go wrong.

My maps and pens and pencils were still on the island of the kitchen from where I dumped them last night, I squeezed past Matías in the tiny run-down kitchen which was a total shrine to the 80's, I hopped up onto a stool and laid out the map on the cracked veneered surface.

A four story building on New York Avenue was surrounded with red Sharpie, it was a fairly seedy area, and shootings weren't out of place. About 1000 yards south-west was a parking structure, I circled it with black and drew the line of trajectory, and began to work out the angle using the local weather and wind distances.

"What's happening." Matt asked, peaking over my shoulder and kissing my neck.

I whispered in Spanish "no frente a él."

"Dándole la luz verde?"

I nodded, "moverse rápido después de las once." I looked him in the eyes "whatever happens."

My target would be with people that wouldn't hesitate to shoot first and ask questions later and if my 30 second window was missed the car would leave and I wouldn't be able to run from them forever.