Chapter 2: Anything for Tony…
She loosened the straps with ease and carefully laid the rifles components down. As she did she made a mental checklist of the pieces: the two main body parts of the rifle itself, cleaned just yesterday by herself, a bipod attached, a magazine in which she loaded two, .270 calibre rounds with hollow-points so the round would deal the most damage on impact, a suppressor, and finally an mil-dot scope for when the client was far away, when wind and bullet drop will dramatically reduce accuracy.
She estimated the distance from the roof to the building the target would be going to; a lick over three hundred yards, she already zeroed the scope before she left so it was only a matter of the wind effecting the round now, and with little to no wind she was virtually set to shoot. Mathilda assembled the rifle at an inhuman speed, her hands sleek and trained and the movements natural and unrushed like breathing, working over the parts.
(Flashback)
The target is some big time drug dealer who Tony wanted taking out. Light work, but apparently if he six feet under it would make the streets a lot cleaner. He said that he would probably have a few guards, estimated at around six to ten of them. Mathilda studied the picture and memorized the face. When she saw the picture the man instantly reminded her of her father; black hair, round face and dull eyes that burned into her memory like a hot branding iron.
"Makes him all the easier to kill" her thoughts told her through imaginary gritted teeth. She hated her father and wished that Stansfield hadn't wasted him in that hallway so that she could have done it. She hated him with every sense of the word and all of her being. He would hit her, ridicule her and treat her like something he scraped off the bottom of his shoe. Stansfield had killed her father because of a drug complication as well as the rest of her patched together family, her little four year old brother, the only one who really appreciated her and gave her a hug every day included in the unforgiving slaughter.
"He always checks into the same fancy hotel every Tuesday… tomorrow" Tony said "sorry to leave it this late but are you free on Tuesday?" he questioned
"You bet" she replied with a warm smile. "Anything for you Tony…"