The long black limousine rolled idly up to the red brick courthouse down the street from her position. Diplomatic flags hung limply from their tiny poles once the car stopped moving. There was no breeze to stir them to attention, to make them look more important then just dirty rags hanging from the hood. Long seconds dragged by through the circular piece of glass the girl looked through until the door finally opened. Two large men exited the limo first, looking around for a possible threat. From what they could see there was none, no movement at all on the street, the heat keeping people in their air conditioned homes and offices at this time.
Of course, the tiny girl could have been standing 3 feet away from the limo and the men still wouldn't have noticed her. Oh, they would have seen her, she wasn't invisible to the human eye, however to the mind she might as well have been.
These are not the droids you are looking for. Move along.
Mutant powers came in pretty handy in her line of work. Though she preferred to not use what a friend once referred to as her "Jedi mind-whammy" while doing jobs. It was easier to not get close, to not get personal. It was easier when she was laying on a baking roof, space and glass separating her from her target. Who was currently exiting the limo at the nods of his bodyguards. Two seconds later he lay dead on the courthouse steps, a single bullet having entered the back of his head at a 60 degree angle, shattering bone and leaving a trail of destruction before exiting below his jawbone, severing the jugular and shattering his voice box. There was no sound in the second afterwards, as she watched her mark fall to the ground, the bodyguards mouths moving soundlessly from where she watched.
Then the blaring bass from her headphones slammed into her ears bringing her back to reality, back to noise, back to the world from the silent intensity she slipped into while working. Rolling onto her back she flicks the droplet of sweat from her forehead and looks at the blinding intensity of the blue sky for a minute, letting the adrenaline run its course and her muscles uncoil. Taking a deep breath she finally notices the heat of the roof, and unscrews the site from her rifle before placing both back into their case.
She walks towards the roof access door, the roof tar sticking to the soles of her white Keds, head bobbing to the rock streaming through the headphones she has taken off. They lay casually around her neck. Pulling out a cell phone she dials a number she knows by heart, waiting for the familiar double click of the recorder to start.
"It's done."
She clicks the phone closed and slides it back into one of the many pockets on her pants. When she gets back to her motel there will be a new file waiting for her. She hopes it takes her to someplace cooler. As the door swings shut behind her she hears the rising wail of police cars approaching before she slides her headphones back on and vanishes into the cool dark stairwell.
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