Black ops And Blood Money

Prologue

Timothy Blake sat behind the wheel of a dark green Land Rover, using the shadows between the streetlights to conceal his position. It had been dark now for about an hour and a half, and the temperature had dropped about ten degrees, leaving a slight chill in the air.
The rain had let up enough, that people were now moving about their business, going to wherever it was that warrented their attention. Between the rain and lights there was a comforting glow around the complex. It reminded him of a time long ago; a time when he felt happy. A car horn blew in the distance brought him back to reality, just in time to see what he had been waiting for.
Exiting the vehicle, he stayed in the shadows as he made his way towards the complex, his fitted cap pulled low on his head to conceal his face as he passed what few people that were on the street. Music could be heard coming from one of the apartments, a new hip hop tune by 50 cent. It was from the album Blake had just brought while shopping at the mall upon his arrival six hours ago. Blake made his way up the steps, his right gloved hand slid expertly under his sweater and extracted a Beretta 9mm, in his left hand was a sleek 12 inch silencer.
Moving up the steps, Blake replayed the lay out of the apartment in his head as he reached the thurd floor. He kept his weapon loose by his right leg as he approached the door. His heart was beating a little faster, as it always does whenever he was about to do a job. He could hear voices coming from the other side and know that at least there were no one else i the room but his target.
Blake eased the lock and moved into the room, stopping only long enough so that his eyes could adjust to the light. The Beretta was gripped in both hands, his arms bent slightly at the elbows forming a V, his movement calculated as he silently made his way towards the bedroom door.