11.
Name: Percer Wilfred Age: 24 Status: Richest man in France Height: 6'1 Weight: No one knows for sure; estimated at 215 Hair: Brown and neatly trimmed Eyes: Brown Address: 3601 Mansion Ave, France Facial hair: None Car: Viper Business: Automobiles Family: None Estimated worth: $120 million Reason I know who the heck he is: He's my target.
I tailed him to a party and waited in a coffee shop across the street, watching carefully for him to leave. He finally did around 2 am and I followed him home carefully. I could have just simply walked behind him the whole way βin plain view- and he wouldn't have even noticed. He was flat out drunk. But, just because of my training, I was cautious, sticking to shadows and avoiding streetlight as best I could.
Katie thinks that Blackthorne is on a field trip in Washington D.C. I'd rather be on a field trip in Washington D.C. It'd be so much better to visit the Washington Monument and the Lincoln Memorial than to be tailing someone with the intent of killing them.
Who hired me? I don't know; it was anonymous.
How much was I getting paid? $500,000.
Why did someone want Percer dead? I don't know.
I did what I was told to do because that's the way that it had been for so long. No questions; just do it. But I was starting to have serious second thoughts, and a lot of them were because of how much Katie had changed my life. I felt guilty every time I thought about the gun, concealed beneath my black jacket.
Katie would have loved Paris. She would love to see the Eiffel Tower so brilliantly lit up in the night or see the wonderful architecture. She would love the stars and the smell of the bakeries. She would love the coffee and maybe she would even find a Caesar salad that she would like as much as Ray's (though I highly doubted that). She would love the entire atmosphere of the city and she would love how the people talked. I wish she could be with me. And yet, I don't. She can't know that I'm a monster, an assassin. But I do wish she could come with me to Paris some other time, under better circumstances, of course.
Percer's house was huge. But, what would you expect from a very wealthy man? His security system β I found when I hacked into it with my laptop β was state of the art. It took me almost thirty minutes to crack, and that was even with Jonas' help. I probably could have done it by myself, but it would have taken me twice as long and my heart just wasn't totally in it.
Not just the hacking. My heart wasn't in any of it. I felt like I was having an out-of-body-experience. I was watching myself waiting for the right moment. I felt that familiar buzz that I got when I knew I was about to kill, but it didn't excite me as much as it normally did.
Katie.
I wonder what she's doing right now.
Stop.
Is her arm bothering her?
Quit.
Is she lying awake, sleepless because I'm not around?
Now isn't the time.
I miss her.
No, you don't.
I knew that it was dangerous to get attached to someone. It was dangerous for anybody, really, but especially for an assassin. I needed to be totally focused on my mission, not thinking about the girl that I loved. But I just couldn't help it. My thoughts constantly wandered to her, no matter how much I tried to hold them back.
Oh well.
I picked the lock on Percer's house and then hacked through the alarm system in the ten seconds required before it alerted the police. My mind was completely focused now, not wandering at all as I made my way through the dark. The house smelled strongly of flowers and my footsteps didn't make a sound on the floor. Slowly, I made my way up the stairs and down the hall, to where I knew his bedroom was.
I opened the door softly, making sure that it didn't squeak at all. Percer was at a desk, the light from the lamp far too bright. He was squinting, looking down at papers on his desk. Probably reviewing something for work. He had no idea that it was a waste of time. He wouldn't make it to work tomorrow.
I felt a rush, but not the usual kind of rush that I get when I'm on a job. This rush was unpleasant and it washed over me so strongly that I struggled to breathe for a few seconds. Percer turned in his chair and his eyes locked with mine. I the time that it took for his mouth to drop open, I drew my gun and pointed it at him.
His eyes, already widened in shock, grew darker. "Who are you?" he asked in French.
"It doesn't matter," I replied. "I was sent here to kill you."
"Why?"
"I don't know."
This confused him. "You don't even know why you are killing me?"
"I was hired," I replied simply.
"By whom?"
"I don't know," I said. I usually didn't exchange small talk with my targets, but everything felt different about this job. I couldn't quite put my finger on it, but I knew that it wasn't the same. It didn't feel the same. It felt like I was on my first job again, with the jitters and everything.
He said nothing else, so I aimed the gun carefully. It wouldn't do to leave evidence behind. Not that anyone could trace it to me, but just to be safe.
What would Katie think of this?
She would hate me, I knew that.
She doesn't have to know.
With a heavy heart and a shaky hand, I pulled the trigger.
Did I mention I'm an assassin?
