Shang Mu; a political rally is about to start. Hanna and Rob are perched on a six-storey building a quarter mile away.
"There he is" Hanna confirms through her binoculars. "Our target."
Rob checks the mechanism of his home-made shuriken launcher; the action is smooth and precise.
"How's the wind?" he asks, making a minor adjustment to the sights.
"Slight breeze from left to right," Hanna answers. "Correct by one degree."
"Noted."
Rob settles himself, centring his target in the sights. He doesn't yet have a clear shot; his target is surrounded by a retinue of companions. Watching their discussion through the scope, Rob waits for his opportunity, keeping his breathing shallow.
"He's taking his sweet time," Hanna complains.
"Shush; be patient," Rob whispers.
"I hate all this waiting."
"And that's why I'm the sniper and you're the spotter."
Hanna sighs impatiently, fiddling with her scarf. A moment later, she sees the target moving towards the stage. "He's moving; get ready."
"I see it," Rob assures. "Now shut up and let me do my thing."
Hanna pulls back from her binoculars to cast a brief aggressive sidelong glance at Rob. Rob squirms slightly to ensure his position is as solid as possible.
The target approaches the podium in the centre of the stage. Rob breathes in, holds for a moment, slowly breathes out, and squeezes the trigger. The mechanism clicks; the shuriken is propelled from the rail at high speed, hissing quietly through the air, tracking directly on target.
A green blast of energy deflects the shuriken; it embeds itself harmlessly in the floor of the stage.
Rob slumps in disappointment, head buried in his arm, the other limply sliding from the trigger.
"What on Avalice was that?" Hanna growls, barely able to keep the volume low.
"Our bounty going down the drain," Rob murmurs, raising his head. "We'd better get out of here; they'll be looking for the shooter."