He had been sitting in the rain for little over four hours when she showed up. Like a ghost, she appeared through the misty rain and took a seat next to him on the park bench, lighting a sodden cigarette.
"You don't smoke." he observed.
She shrugged. "Neither do you. Most days." Here, a wink.
"He got his eye on something again?"
"Two somethings."
"Oh, let me guess. The detective, and...?"
She rolls her eyes. "Irene Adler. You took care of that man for me, Seb?"
"Clean shot, straight through the heart. " the sniper replies.
Cynthia's mobile phone rings.
