Title: Clandestine
Warnings: Mild blood, gore, swearing in future chapters. Slightly AU.
AN: So I have writer's block on another fic of mine, and figured maybe if I stepped away from it for a bit and worked on something else that might help. Odd reasoning, I know. But this fic and that one have somewhat similar premises so who knows. Anyway, I had this idea since I realized Gabriel Macht was in The Recruit (which I actually saw before I ever watched an episode of Suits, and is one of my favorite movies), and it was practically begging to be written. It's not a crossover. But, oh you'll see. :D And I know this chapter is short, but it's really more of a prologue than anything. This is also currently unbetaed.
Chapter One - You Never Hear the Shot That Takes You Down
The man smiled pleasantly, silently conveying his thanks to the doorman holding the door, and strode into the building. It was mid-day, so the lobby was busier than it might have been at another time, but that was perfect for him. He'd use that to his advantage. That was part of the plan.
Keeping his head down, he effortlessly glided through the throng of people, just another person in the crowd. He stood in line for the elevators, just like everyone else. When he finally got on, he waited for his floor just like everyone else, except he avoided looking up, even when he moved to get off.
The hallway was silent, unlike the lobby twenty floors below, as he walked down it. His eyes flickered from door to door, searching for the right number. Finally, he saw it, and set down his bag for a moment in order to pat down his pockets for the plastic key card. Gloved hands finally fished it out of his back pocket, and he held it in front of him for a moment, intelligent brown eyes scrutinizing it.
The plastic card was blank, no identifying marks on it whatsoever except for the thin magnetic strip running down one of the sides. It was a 'homemade' card; certainly not one given out to the tenants.
The black leather gloves he wore proved even more protection- his fingerprints or DNA wouldn't be left behind. Nothing could be traced back to him. He was a ghost. A specter, if you will. And that was the way it had to be.
Sighing quietly, he slid the key card through the lock, and a little green light lit up, indicating that it was now open. He shifted his grip on the black duffel bag he was carrying and cast a glance down the hallway, before opening the door and slipping into the room, the door shutting quietly behind him.
His brown eyes flickered over the room. Two double beds were both topped with a rather garish bedspread, a television was hanging from the opposite wall, there were two paintings in the room also hanging on the cream colored walls, and then there was the feature he was most interested in- the large glass window whose view was currently blocked by a deep red curtain. He'd use that to his advantage too. After all, he wanted to go as unseen as possible.
People didn't take kindly to looking out their window and seeing a sniper rifle pointed at them. Or at who they thought was themselves. His targets generally didn't even know he was there.
Until it was too late.
The New York skyline was beautiful. It was also the last thing he would ever properly see. As he stood in front of the large glass window in his apartment, sipping his expensive coffee and marveling at the way the sunlight hit the glass just right, he was killed.
The bullet punched through the glass like a knife through butter, shattering it instantly. It continued it's journey and entered his chest, going straight through his heart and hitting his spine where it ricocheted off a bone, shattering it and severing his spinal cord in the process, then finally exiting out of his left back area to lodge in the carpeted floor. Blood and bits of gore showered the couch behind him, spraying out from the area of impact.
He noiselessly fell backwards, his upper body arching oddly without the support needed from his damaged spine. Hitting the floor with a sickening thud, and as a deep red began to spread across his expensive suit, he took one last shuddering breath, brown eyes fluttering closed.
The conscious last thought he had was how it would probably kill Rene to see a perfectly good suit ruined in such a messy way.