Hitman:
"Conversion"
"As the best wine makes the sharpest vinegar,
the truest lover may turn into the worst enemy."
-Proverb of Unknown Origin
1
A black Ford Mustang pulled into the driveway of the hotel. As the driver exited, the valet ran up quickly, and entered the car. It pulled away, and another car took it's place. Agent Forty-Seven had watched this occur more times than he could possibly count tonight. The wind blew violently in his face, and he could feel the cold snow constantly landing on his head. He was cold, freezing. Any sane person would've left the rooftop he had been standing on for hours by now, but Forty-Seven wasn't any ordinary, sane person. He was cold, methodical, and he did whatever it took to get the job done. He glanced at the hotel entrance again, and there he was. His target, an old man in about his fifties smoking a cigarette. Coughing, and buttoning his trench coat as he crossed the street. Forty-Seven quickly exited the rooftop. The man had crossed the street, and entered a small alleyway in between the building that Forty-Seven had been standing on the roof of for hours, and an apartment complex. The man yawned, and stretched as Forty-Seven approached him.
"Can I bum a smoke?" Forty-Seven asked.
"No. Get the hell away from me."
The man had a thick Italian accent, and a deep, throaty voice.
"I'd
be willing to pay you for it. I could really use one, right about
now, and all the stores near here are closed."
"What's your problem? I said no. Now leave me alone! What the fuck is wrong with you?" Forty-Seven replied to his question by grabbing the old man, and pushing his heavy body against the brick wall. He pulled a knife from his back pocket, and quickly jammed it into the old man's frail back. Before he could scream. Forty-Seven stabbed him again. This was too easy. He pulled out a napkin from his back pocket, and wiped off the warm, thick blood. He straightened his tie, and walked away. No one saw him. Forty-Seven was amazed. This had been his first job since he had broken into The White House, murdered the Vice president, and the notorious founder of a rival assassin agency. It may have been his easiest kill ever. He got into his car, and drove off into the night, into the destiny that awaited him.