[Keep your files up to date with these previous entries ''Walk, Don't Run'' and then ''Rumble'']
No time for these thoughts. Peering out of my curtain, I can see the car arrive. It is supposed to deliver the target to my doorstep. A bowler hat wearing man steps out. I relax as he is not my target. Turns out he is someone else’s target. A bullet through the head and he goes down. He falls on his back. His mouth is open. The same look of wonder, my former partner, Johanssen used to sport. Johanssen is now dead. Murdered. I can only watch.
It does not take me time to figure out that the shot was fired from the floor below, 2nd window. I grab my pistol and race along to the floor below. I kick the door open. Olga sits at the window. She is preparing to leave. We stare at each other. This was the target, I was meant to take out. So, this was the plan all along.
Subject: 452859. ''James''. Status: Bonded to the Union.
November 17th,
The days pass quickly. There is not much to do. There never really was. In the past week, the Union managed to land a plump one inside the State hierarchy.
The position must be high up. News is we landed a breakdown structure of the State office. Since then, we broke two State operatives in the capital. I am currently in the midst of blowing another one.
The Union is anxious to protect their special interest inside the State. The target is Chien, Head of Operations. He is currently in the North. He is on a business trip. It is my job to cut that trip short. I am at my spot, at the 2nd window, 3rd floor of the red building. I caress my sniper rifle. I have been living on coffee these days.
I saw Olga last time around. She flew Chien out of our reach. We used to be married. Now she works State and I am Union. Ours is a Cold War. There will be no bloodshed, but in the pursuit of principle no stone will be left standing.
The love is dead. The thrill is gone.
The love is dead. The thrill is gone.
No time for these thoughts. Peering out of my curtain, I can see the car arrive. It is supposed to deliver the target to my doorstep. A bowler hat wearing man steps out. I relax as he is not my target. Turns out he is someone else’s target. A bullet through the head and he goes down. He falls on his back. His mouth is open. The same look of wonder, my former partner, Johanssen used to sport. Johanssen is now dead. Murdered. I can only watch.
It does not take me time to figure out that the shot was fired from the floor below, 2nd window. I grab my pistol and race along to the floor below. I kick the door open. Olga sits at the window. She is preparing to leave. We stare at each other. This was the target, I was meant to take out. So, this was the plan all along.
I drop my gun. I turn around, only to be greeted by a kick to my chest. I go down easy, gasping for breath. Chien stands in the doorway. He is smiling his creepy smile. The more people mask their identity, the more they end up expressing themselves. I look at Olga. She seems sorry. You never know.
I am kicked and I am beaten. I am captured. This was the plan all along.
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