Introduction
My target is walking hastily to the drop off point, he has a limp in his left leg and the pain looks almost certainly targeted at the calf, impairing his movement and making it harder for me to keep the crosshairs on his smug wrinkly face. I take the scope away from my eye socket and check that the safety’s off. It’s a good weapon. Barret, oak wood stock. Equipped with an assassin grade silencer. A fatal gunshot equivalent in sound to that of a pin drop. I bring the sights back into view. He’s there sitting at a park bench on the outskirts of central park. Where he has been instructed to be. He wears very prestigious clothing, one might think that his life’s on track. But I assure you, from what he’s doing, he is well off the track of the train of good fortune. He got messed up with the wrong people and is unlucky enough to end up with me as his hit-man. But I don’t want to kill him now. I want to see who these people that he is awaiting really are. Who knows, they might be members of a rival gang. Or the lackeys of some dangerous Mafioso’s. I shouldn’t kill them unless they pose a threat. And I should bide my time for this guys’ predetermined execution. I mean let’s face it there ain’t no way he’s going to get out of this one. As the scope is nestled comfortably in the sights of his head, a mother and her baby stroll through the scope. All the more reason for biding time. If I’d have killed him then and there. That child would have been scarred for life. I don’t think I’d be a good father come to think of it. I couldn’t bear the thought of bearing a child who would grow up to realise his father’s a contract killer. Then he might decide to follow in my footsteps, trust me that’s the last thing that I want to happen. I wouldn’t be able to deal with the thought of having a kid anyway. Too much responsibility. I mean I’d go for a one night stand with some slut but I don’t want any kind of relationship tying me down. I don’t care if I die alone, I mean most of the people I’ve murdered didn’t even have family. I have family but I don’t talk to them. They don’t know what I do and that’s just fine, don’t want some old bat nagging in my ear all day, telling me how I wasted my life, doing nothing in school and then finally how I’ve been ending people’s lives nearly on a daily basis. Or would that come first in the argument? But that’s just how the cookie crumbles and that isn’t happening, not now and hopefully not ever. What is happening though is that the man is finally on his feet greeting the strangers. There were two of them, big stocky men with too much beef on their arms and not enough brains in their heads. Both Caucasian and both nearly seven feet tall. They’re wearing black suits and red ties. They’re shoes shined bright in the scope. Black leather. My estimation on their weight? About three hundred pounds of muscle and bone. They don’t look fat, but they could break a crocodile’s neck with those thighs. I could drop ‘em. Take out the knees, wind them and then knee them in the chin. That’d out ‘n’ out remove their future for a good career. They seem to be the mafias’ way of intimidating their clients into giving them just what they want, but on the inside. They’re just a lot of people with a lot of guns. Take out the legs, the bosses. And the whole army falls to the ground, wondering what even happened. The Man gives them the brief case he’s carrying and sits back down on the bench, the men aren’t budging. They’re both still standing where they were, staring at the man. The man is talking to them with a hesitant and scared face, from what I can understand from the man’s lips he’s telling them he’s done his part of the agreement or something like that. Before the man finishes the gang member on the left picks him up and grabs both his arms in a hold, immobilizing him. Then the other guy starts whaling into his gut, with the first punch the man coughs blood up onto his crisp suit, his head slumps onto his chest as he receives the following blows. People in the park are watching them in complete disbelief, while some knew better to not get involved and walk in the opposite direction. Then I realise. He’s my hit.
I pull the trigger, the bullet flies out of the suppressor without a sound and travels through the poor man’s temple, going straight through the brain, breaking the bone and getting the other guy in the shoulder. Blood spatters all over the now dead man and the two guys, leaving them in shock and disbelief. They don’t even know where the bullet came from but what they do know is that they’ll be dead in the next few seconds if they don’t find cover. The first gang member jumps behind the park bench, then the second guy. Holding his shoulder and cringing with in pain, lunges into a bush. I take the scope away from my eye, disassemble the sniper rifle and put it in my suit case. I’ve got at least fifteen minutes before the police start searching the building, this gives me enough time to take a trip down the elevator, leave the building through the back way and jump into the getaway vehicle. All with time to get at least 5 miles away from the area. Before I do anything, I check my hip and feel for my handgun. My good old 44. Magnum, it would blow someone’s head off at close range, given that they’re unlucky enough to cross my path. I leave it in its holster and leave my apartment. Just a generic hotel room, didn’t touch anything apart from the window when I opened it but I was wearing gloves, in fact I should close it now, it’ll confuse the police when they come in here. The only way they could find me is if they check the hotel records, but I know a guy who lets me change my identity once the cops start to sniff around. Just so I can stay in business and not in prison. I walk out of my room, opening the door calmly and closing it behind me. The carpet is velvety red with an orange border near where the carpet ends and the walls begin. The elevator door is at the very end of the hallway next to two other beginnings of hallways all branching out into different rooms. My footstep is silent as the pitter patter of a cat while they softly thump onto the carpet. The door way comes closer and closer towards me until I’m at the beginning of the crossroads. I press the down button at the elevator interface, the button lights up in bright yellow light. Above the elevator is a monitor showing what floor the elevator was currently at, I was on the ninth floor and the elevator was climbing from the sixth floor. A short time later, filled by the twiddling of thumbs the elevator door slides open. Within the elevator is a blonde woman, covered head to toe in makeup and riddled with the scent of perfume. She’s wearing a tank top and purple skinny jeans, ripped at the knees. She’s chewing gum and blows a bubble when she glances at me. I walk into the elevator and stand facing the door, the woman walks away and as she does she checks me out.
