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- 10/10/2009 10:22 pm
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I walk the crowded streets of this concrete jungle. People everywhere. I blend in so easily, nobody suspects a thing. Just a man with his guitar walking through the streets, heading to play at some club with his rock band. I've always wanted to try playing a guitar, but never mind that. My target is located several blocks away. There's a building near here with an empty room some hundred feet above the streets. I know, I scouted the place out before. It will give me a clear shot to the coffee shop where my target will be.I have been getting information on this target for several weeks now. His name is Joseph Williams. He is about 5' 11" and has brown hair. He works in an office building. Every day on his way to work he stops at a small coffee shop to relax and drink some coffee while reading the paper. He seems like a normal man with a normal life. Might have a wife, some children. That's none of my business. Somebody wants him dead, and I'm the one to do it.
The sound of his black boots slapping the ground as he walks down the sidewalk is completely unheard as the constant noises of New York City drown out anything else. As far as the rest of the world is concerned, the man carrying the guitar case is nonexistent. A towering building looms overhead as the man makes his way in that direction, his black trench coat flapping behind him. Eventually he makes it to the glass doors of the tall building. He enters and tips his black fedora at a nearby security guard. It wasn't so much an act of politeness as it was a tactical move. If things went bad, it would be helpful to know who and where the security guards where.
He entered the elevator as a crowd of others were getting on and made his way to the back. Everybody selected their respective floors and stood calmly waiting to arrive. Several looked at him strangely, after all, it probably wasn't often that guitar players entered their office building. The man merely smiled at them and nodded. Once everybody had exited to their floors, the "guitarist" pressed a button covered by an 'out of order' sign placed there the previous day by himself. The elevator arrived at the empty floor and he exited. After getting off he walked over to the door to the stairway which he then opened, but did not enter. It was always good to have some sort of escape plan. Next he placed himself near a window he had chosen before. The coffee shop was several blocks away, in clear sight. Joseph was not there yet, it was too early. The man opened up the guitar case to reveal a deadly sight. A CheyTac .408 Caliber Sniper Rifle with a custom scope and stock. Quite possibly the most accurate sniper rifle in existence. A few other tools were located in the guitar case, and each were individually secured and padded so they did not move around and get damaged. One such tool was a silencer. A very useful piece of equipment, but due to the range of this mission, he would have to deal without it. He slowly pulled the sniper out, opened a nearby window enough to poke the barrel through, and set up to get a perfect shot.
I'm in position. I have arrived just on time, and Joseph should be at the coffee shop in a couple of minutes. I have everything planned out. I calculated the distance beforehand. It's approximately 2200 yards. It's a difficult shot, but not impossible. I would normally use my silencer at a time like this, but the slightest inaccuracy could mean the difference between success and failure. There will be a big bang, but I have an escape plan. I hid a parachute in this office earlier. It may seem a bit unusual, but it's effective. By the time they'll get somebody over to where I land, I'll be long gone. I'll have to wait a short bit before I jump, though. That way they have even further to run down when they realized I've jumped off. I think... Yes, that's him now. He's going to sit at his favorite table just outside the shop. He's ordering his drink now. Poor b*****d, he has no idea he's not going to be able to enjoy his coffee.
The man looked through his scope and breathed as deep as he could. He did not move a muscle. The cross hair on the scope aimed just left of Joseph's head, to accommodate the strength and direction of the wind. Joseph's drink finally arrived. He thanked the waitress, and slowly raised the mug up to his mouth.
The slightest, but extremely calculated twitch changed everything. The air around the man cracked with eirsplitting force. The mug of coffee in Joseph's hand slipped out and fell, smashing on the ground. The blank expression on his face did not change as it smashed into the table in front of him. The back of the man's head was gone, or at least it was splattered across the window of the coffee shop behind him. Only when his head hit did the realization hit everybody in the nearby vicinity. People screamed, and ran. Success, the man thought. Calmly, he places his rifle back in his guitar case, and strapped the parachute to his back. He tied a loose rope from the pack to his guitar case for when he jumped. After this he ran to his exit, and ran up the stairs. It took several minutes to reach the top, and he could hear shouts much further down the stairwell. Once he reached the top, he walked over to the edge and sat on it. He knew it would still be a while before security reached to top, so he pulled out a cigarette and lit it.
Simple enough. Another man down, another contract fulfilled. Now all I need to do is make it to safety. Of course I can't go collect my pay right away. If somebody does manage to get on my tail, I can't lead them directly to the contractor. It's strange. I feel so calm, even though I just ended a man's life and have people who want to throw me in jail chasing after me. I guess a war can do that to you. They're going to be here soon, I can tell.
The man hopped up onto the edge of the building and turned to face the door to the stairwell. He flicked the butt of the cigarette off the side and watched carefully. He knew they were going to be trying a stealth approach, but as soon as the door handle barely started turning, the man turned and jumped off the edge. Someone must have caught a glimpse of him jumping, because he heard shouts that were quickly drowned out by the rushing wind. A distant, sharp clap was sound, and he heard something whiz past his head. I guess they figured someone hitting the ground from the top of a skyscraper isn't dead enough, he thought to himself and chuckled. Once he felt he had fallen far enough to be out of gunshot, he pulled the rip cord and opened the 'chute. The sudden jolt was expected, and he steered towards where he intended to land. He could imagine the faces of the guards as they realized he wasn't going to smack into the ground.
A minute or two later he landed with a bit of a jolt on the top of another building. He quickly repacked his parachute and ran down the fire escape. The man walked,and walked, and walked. He took zig zag routes and went through back alleys as much as he could to shake anybody that might be following him. He entered a more run down part of the city and quickly found a small alley leading to a heavy door. He entered, locked, and bolted several locks. He set his guitar case next to a chair that he then sat down in, pulling out another cigarette and lighting it. He checked for the pistol at his side and felt relaxed to find it there. Another job well done.
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The Making of Kenoro
Where did Kenoro originate from?
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