Mental

Foxbush, Connecticut

  "Hello, Scope. We have received a request to eliminate the manager of Luminous Bank, Lubomir Bilyana. He has used his position multiple times to sneak money out of numerous customers' accounts, and has intimidated other workers into covering it up for him. Our client, Ronex Industries, has asked us to eliminate him. He has lived in Foxbush for years, and is likely very closely guarded. Good luck, Scope." 

  I stood up from the bench I was sitting on, setting my paper down on the wood. I checked my supplies. HF-037 .40 Pistol, pocketknife, digoxin, sleeping pills, everything I needed. "Which house?"

  The woman on the other end sighed. "436 Dover Road. Just down the street, Scope. You won't miss it."

  "Thanks, Emily."

  Emily wasn't lying. Just down the street was a huge house-- no, a mansion. "So this is where all that money went?" I whistled under my breath. Next to the other houses in Foxbush, Lubomir's house looked like a titan ready to crush everything in its path. At the front, I saw the door open. A blonde haired man walked out, flanked by two security guards. He seemed to be talking to someone at the door, but my field of view didn't reach that far. The man laughed and walked away, towards a long black limousine. Obviously, it was his. One of the security guards protecting him opened the door for him. The man climbed in.

  I watched him drive away. "...Was that Lubomir?"

  Emily laughed. "No, that was one of his coworkers. Gozzo Pharamond, I believe is his name. Lubomir should still be inside his house, and without his guards..."

  I smiled as it dawned on me. "Now's our best chance." But I couldn't just walk in through the front. The guards would immediately notice. I'd have to get in through the back. But how?

  I scanned the garden in the back for anything that could get me in. I spotted some gardener's clothes, and nobody was around there.

  I carefully made my way to the back of the house, praying nobody saw me. I hastily put on the gardening clothes over top my original disguise. I then pulled open the back door. Or... at least, I tried to. However, I hadn't counted on it being locked, and had forgotten my lockpick. "Shit," I growled. But I couldn't give up. Looking around, I noticed a paperclip carelessly tossed on the ground. I picked it up. It was relatively sturdy, so it wouldn't break if I used it. I bent it into shape, and pressed it into the keyhole. There was a click, and the door opened.

  I waited, to see if it was safe to enter. I didn't see anyone, but I found myself staring in awe at the house. It was very elegantly made, with dark wooden walls and oaken floors, red velvet carpets and beautiful paintings on the walls. I was compelled to just tour the house, and leave Lubomir to be.

  But then I remembered where all of the art had come from. Lubomir had stolen money from innocent people, who had done nothing to deserve what he had done to them. I clenched my hands in fists of rage. I knew not who any of his victims were. I doubt he knew himself. But they were other people, who had been victimized for his own benefit, and nothing else.

  I entered the first room. It seemed to be the kitchen. A shiny metal sink sat atop a black granite counter, and a fridge stood in the corner. It seemed like a large, fancy, yet normal kitchen. Not too over the top, but not too basic either. I walked into the next room, keeping an eye out for any guards or the target. After searching the entire first floor, I found no one. They must be upstairs, I thought.

  So I climbed the wooden stairs, each step causing the floorboards to creak. Luckily, it didn't seem like anyone noticed, or if they did, they didn't think anything of it. Slowly, I slipped my .40 caliber HF-037 Pistol out of my pocket and loaded it.

  I finally reached the top of the stairs, to find four rooms. All of the doors were open, however, except for one. Slowly, silently, I walked over to it and opened it. Then I regretted it.

  Inside the room, Lubomir was on a bed with another woman. I couldn't quite tell what was happening, but from the moaning and their positions, I didn't need to. Neither of them saw me, thankfully. I wished I hadn't seen either of them either.

  "I... regret sending you, Scope. I really am sorry." I didn't respond. This close to finishing the mission, I couldn't make another noise. I raised my pistol, slowly, and aimed at the corrupt manager's head. BANG! In a matter of seconds, his head was a ball of blood. I fled the room before the other woman could see me. As far as I could tell, she was still sucking away at his dick, blissfully unaware.

  I dashed down the stairs and ran for the back door. As I reached for the handle, I heard Lubomir's security guards enter through the front door, guns in hand. But by then, I was already out the back and darting through the garden. I ran to the fence and vaulted over it, where I found myself in a culdesac.

  I spoke into my headset, "Target down. Get Dylan over here."

  Soon enough, a bright red Mustang pulled up. I opened the door and jumped in. The driver didn't even wait until I was fully in, and he just started driving. He didn't stop going full speed until we hit the highway. Once we got there, he turned around.

  "Nice work, Scope," he said. I smiled.

  "Thanks, Sheff."