(4) Never miss.

Jim had hired a new sniper specifically for the trip to Russia. It wasn't that he was replacing Sebastian, on the contrary, he hoped that he would help Sebastian. Jim was a busy man, and by default that made Sebastian a very busy man

But Sebastian didn't like him. First of all, his name was Pencey. He sounded like something out of a goddamn children's book. He was just different from Sebastian. He didn't have the hardened life that a sniper should. He grew up in a good home in some very rural state in America. He worked on a farm with his father and hunted a lot.

What really bothered Sebastian was that Pencey had hunted for sport. They had enough food, they had farm animals which they slaughtered. Pencey told stories, which he thought were fantastic recounts of brutal murder, which spoke nothing good about his character. Sebastian had poached for money, Pencey killed ducks and bears for sport and left them in the woods to rot. The contrast was, in Sebastian's opinion, fantastically relevant to their situation.

And he never stopped talking. Jim had allowed them to go on the first job in Russia, an easy one, alone. He had hoped it would instigate some kind of bonding between the two snipers. That they would come back from the job like Christians coming back from a retreat, happy and closer.

Sebastian had let Pencey take the reins on this one, but he was talking so much that he couldn't even concentrate. He was distracting himself.

"Jim's a cool guy." Pencey was saying, not looking at the street were his target was supposed to be passing any minute. he was instead looking down at his gun.

Which was in his lap, not actually pointed at anything.

"Cool." Sebastian answered dryly. Sebastian had heard the word cool too many times to count in the last two days. And that damn American accent made it harder to stand.

"Yeah, yeah." Pencey said quietly. Sebastian felt sick to his stomach at just how meek this man actually was. And cool wasn't the word he'd ever use to describe Jim.

Cool in the way that he would no doubt inject ice cold water in to your veins if you did something wrong. But that would make you cool, and him hot with pride and happiness.

"You watching the street, mate?" Sebastian asked. They were on the first floor of some worn out warehouse building, crouching behind the broken glass window.

"Yeahyeah." Pencey said, angling his gun out the window.

Both Sebastian and Pencey had a mental image of the man they were looking for, but the images were very different. Sebastian's was clear, concise and accurate. Pencey's was distorted, and he couldn't really make it out for himself.

"That's him." Sebastian muttered, spotting the dark Russian they were looking for.

Pencey shuffled around hurriedly with his gun, adrenaline pumping. Something snapped inside of him and suddenly it was like he couldn't hold a gun. He didn't know how to shoot.

He haphazardly pointed the gun out the window and shot a bit at random.

Sebastian closed his eyes and turned away. God this can't be happening. This isn't real life. When Sebastian opened his eyes again Pencey was turned away from the window. His face was flushed red with embarrassment.

"You fucking missed, mate." Sebastian sneered. "One job. First job. You missed. Then you turned away. Do you even know where the man was going? How can we get him, now, eh?"

"I don't…I'm sorry." Pencey sputtered. "I don't know…what…can I do?"

"Well, nothing now." Sebastian shrugged, picking up his bag. "We're going to go back to the hotel. Jim is going to be there. He's going to know, he always knows. I'm going to tell him it was my fault."

"But it wasn't." Pencey said, closer to tears. "It was my fault. You can't…I won't let you…"

"He'll kill you," Sebastian said, "I have a chance."

The ride back to the hotel was blaringly silent. Too silent. Pencey was close to crying, still, and Sebastian was still thinking of reasons he hated the man. He was all talk. He hunted, yeah, yeah. Hunting farm animals and hunting people is a bit different.

Sebastian walked into the room first. Jim had seat himself in the hotel desk. He looked small in it, like he was drowning in the thick oak. Nevertheless, he still looked really goddamn dangerous and important.

"Sir?" Sebastian heard Pencey close the door behind them.

"Yes, Sebastian?" Jim said, without looking up. Sebastian knew that Jim had an idea of what happened. A very good idea. And he knew exactly what was going to come out of Sebastian's mouth next. There was no tricking Jim. No getting around him.

"I missed, sir."

Sebastian hated Pencey more in that moment than he had all day. He would lose his job for this. If Jim was in a bad mood, he would die for this.

"You're lying." Jim said lazily, finally looking up at them and leaning back. He folded his arms across his stomach and raised his eyebrows. "He missed." He nodded towards Pencey carelessly. "Very noble of you, Sebastian. I commend you."

He stood and walked around the desk, then leaning on the front of it.

"But you." he said to Pencey. "You were hired for a reason. Can you explain why you let Sebastian take the fall for you? You had to know I would have saw right through it. Sebastian is the best sniper I've ever had. He never misses, unless it's on purpose."

"I don't…he said…" Pencey's face was becoming red.

"But Jim," Jim made his voice higher, mocking. "Sebastian said it would work out. He'd take the fall. I don't want to die." He paused for a second, a smirk gracing his lips. "Dying!" He shouted. "Dying, Pencey, isn't as bad as you might think it is."

Sebastian stood there, hands clasped easily behind his back. he watched the exchange between Jim and Pencey with a little bit of relief. Sebastian knew his boss wouldn't allow him to jump in front of the bus at the cost of some not-so-decent American.

"Get out." Jim said, waving Pencey away. "Don't come back."

Pencey didn't need to be told twice. Just as he had his hand on the doorknob Jim called his name. He froze, hand in mid-air.

"I don't want to hear," Jim said, "that you've been telling stories. I'm not afraid to have you killed. And I'm sure Sebastian would be happy to do it."

"Yessir." Pencey said, before hightailing it out of there before he was eaten alive.

"Fucking Americans." Jim swore. "Looks like it's all you, Sebastian." He made his way back to his desk chair. "I tried." He sighed heavily and sat down. "Sebastian?"

"Yes, boss?"

"I know I don't have to tell you this," he said, picking up some papers and shuffling them around. "But never fucking miss."

AN: New title format! I think I like this one a lot better. Also, I apologize for typos in the first couple of chapter. There are pretty blatant issues with continuity and whatnot. I've fixed them in the word document and I'm going to replace the chapters with the "updated" versions when I get around to it. I don't know, just know that I'm aware of them but I'm too lazy to fix them because they're small and not super relevant to the story lines.