All the credit goes to my brother,who asked me to post this for feedback on his writing skills
"Oh god, I'm gonna be late. Stinkin' traffic, I don't have time for this, this guy doesn't like waiting." Hrothgar Danes, the police chief of NYPD. He was known as Harry by his friends. This was because most people can't pronounce his real name which was Hrothgar. He was on his was to meet with someone for a very important assignment. A mission, if you want to call it, which goes outside of the law, and would most likely get the chief fired if he was caught.
"Forget it, no time for this. I have to meet this Wolf fella at the bar by 4:00." He turned his siren on, and sped through the traffic, of course with a train of six or seven other New Yorkers who wanted to get past the traffic.
Harry ended up getting to the bar he was told to be at a few minutes early. It had a sign hanging above it, with red neon letters blinking Heoret.
"What a weird name," he muttered quietly. When he walked in, the place looked like it'd seen much better days. Dimly lit, pool table in the corner with some men in their late 40's racking billiards at it, some 'Ladies of the evening' hanging around the tables, and some regular old drunks wandering around aimlessly, muttering to themselves in silence..
"Nice place," the chief thought to himself. it was clear that he wasn't wanted there, and he didn't want to be there either, especially not dressed as a cop, which he was.. He looked around the bar to see if he'd spot who he'd called. He was looking for the least obvious person in the bar, the one best hidden. Chief Harry was looking for Beowulf Geat, better known as Wolf, or by some The Hunter, a first class hit man. Wolf was an ex-mercenary, so he knew his way with weapons and guerrilla combat and fighting. He usually opted to wait for the time to strike, and as such became a hit man when he was done with his mercenary days. He was only in his mid-thirties.
"When does the wolf strike?" the chief said to the one he guessed was who he wanted, dressed in jeans and a Guns n' Roses t-shirt, with a black coat and Reeboks on. He was about 6"0, well built, slightly scarred face. Other than that, he was a completely average Joe.
"When the prey drops its guard," responded the man. Harry sat down at the bar, and began speaking with the man.
"You're Wolf, aren't you?" asked the chief. "Depends on who's asking," he responded.
"Chief Danes, NYPD police chief. I called you here for a job."
"That you did, so let's hear it. Who is it, where are they usually, and how much am I getting paid for this are the three main questions. We'll deal with other stuff afterwards." said Wolf.
"Grendel Cain, a mob boss down in the village. He runs out of an old music school off Christopher Street. As for your pay, I've arranged for $10,000 to be brought to you anonymously after the mission is done, cash. All this is under the table and under the law, of course. If it got out that I planned this, I'd lose my job."
" Chief,,why come to a hitman for this? Why not just storm the place and shoot the guy?"
"He has too much power, too much influence in the city. He can't be touched by us."
"Fair enough. I'll get back to you within a week, but for now, go give out some speeding tickets or something."
With that, the chief left the bar, and Wolf left soon after that.
He went back to his apartment, a one room office apartment he leased on the Upper East Side of Manhattan, and slept the night off. The next morning, he got out of bed, went over to his closet, and pulled some stuff out of it. Namely, a briefcase, with his mission gear in it. In it was an M40A5 sniper rifle he received from an old friend he made in the US military. Beside that was his regular handgun, a Desert Eagle pistol with a silencer attached, and a few ammo clips for each of them. Wolf hid the sniper rifle in a guitar case along with the clips, and concealed the pistol in his belt as it's the most easily concealed and used under pressure.
He walked around the corner to Starbucks, and got some coffee. He took his coffee, went back outside, and walked down to 72nd street, just a couple blocks away, to grab a bus to the Upper West Side. From there he took a train down to the Village and through a back alley, climbed up a fire escape and went up on the rooftops of one of the buildings. The buildings there are only about 5 or 6 stories high, so it was very low compared to usual sniper heights, but he'd make do. He hopped from building to building from to building until he found a good viewpoint into the music school, exactly where Grendel sat along with a couple of his cronies. He began setting up the sniper rifle, and began making calculations; wind, distance, others in the room. He made all calculations, and aimed. One of the cronies saw the red laser sight and tackled his boss down. The other saw where Wolf was, as he ran to storm into the building and try plan B.
"Guys, come quickly! We've got an assassin!" shouted the mobster. Soon enough several others started pouring out, searching for Wolf, who had hidden in a closet on the first floor. He managed to slip in while the mobster called for others. He opened the door slightly and saw that there was only one man there. He choked him until he was unconscious, dragged him into the closet, and started walking up the three story building. The first floor stairs were covered by two of Grendel's men, he needed to get past them.
Wolf stood in the closet for a minute, and decided to sneak out and try fighting the men by the stairs. He walked over as quietly as he could, snuck up behind them, and struck each of their necks, knocking them both out. they collapsed and he walked up. He managed to avoid the men on the second floor, and made his way to the top floor, to see two rather burly mobsters guarding the door to Grendel's room. He knew he wouldn't be able to knock these two out, so he pulled out his pistol and shot the two men, hauling them to the side.
He stepped inside to see a man with a similar build to his, but wearing an expensive-looking suit and hat.
"I assume you were sent by the police?" Grendel asked.
"Who else would send me here? The mayor?"
"Ha! That weakling? He wouldn't even try to lay a finger on me. I've had him under me for a little while now."
"Figures. Do you have any last words?"
"Yeah.", Grendel stood up from his chair slowly. "Tough luck." Wolf tried shooting him in the chest a, only to see Grendel standing there with a smug grin on his face, unfazed. He tried shooting him a few more times in anger, to know avail.
"This suit is lined with Kevlar, buddy. No pistol is going to pierce this." Grendel reached to his side for his Glock, but wasn't quick enough. Wolf dropped the gun, and he charged at the mob boss and punched him in the face a couple of times. This threw the boss off guard for long enough for Wolf to throw him out of the window, into the street, just as a cab was going down the road, and with a thump Grendel hit the cab on its hood. Wolf hopped onto the windowsill and climbed the building just in time for the rest of the mobsters to notice their boss, dead in the streets.