Title: Sniper's Song

Author: Sarah

E-mail: sydney453@yahoo.com

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters.

Summary: A gunman is terrorizing the people of Miami—and leaving Horatio clues to his next move.

AN: Sorry for the lack of updates. Finals. Thanks so much for the reviews!

Chapter four

Miami International Airport

10:50AM

Larry Wright hefted his clunky black suitcase out of the trunk and dropped it to the ground with a loud thump. The last thing that he wanted to do was get on that plane and fly up to Charlotte.

"Again," he growled, slamming the trunk closed with unnecessary force. His soon to be ex-wife has found a new hobby. Instead of sleeping with his business partners and running up huge credit card debt, she's now taken to creating unnecessary lawsuits that required his presence in court on a biweekly basis.

He let out a put-upon sigh and made his way towards the entrance. "This is the last time," he vowed.

Parker studied the crowd of people going into and out of the airport's main entrance. "Who should I pick?" he cooed in a sing-song voice. He eyed the commuters with a gleam in his eye that rivaled that of a gleeful child's in a pet store. Parker grinned broadly, narrowing his eyes in search of the perfect candidate.

He watched as a tall blonde woman angrily grabbed the hands of a pair of chubby toddlers. She knelt down so she was at eye level with them and reprimanded them. Parker pulled his sunglasses off and leaned forward, watching the woman yell at her kids. "She's not very nice," he declared. But she wasn't the one. Parker would know the one when he saw him or her. Yes the blonde woman deserved punishment, that much was obvious to Parker. But he hadn't felt that strong magnetic pull that he had felt when he'd seen Heather for the first time.

"Hmm," he sighed happily, thinking about the lovely bride. He hadn't set out intending to kill her, but when he saw her coming through the church doors in that pretty white dress, he knew that she was it. The way she'd glowed with happiness, her smile had called out to him. Parker would always remember they way he'd snuffed out that radiance in a blink of an eye.

Parker kept watch, knowing that his victim would appear soon. An elderly woman and a porter struggled mightily with her myriad bags. Parker caught a glimpse of a harassed looking man in an expensive suit as he stalked past his stolen SUV. A small family excitedly fought their way out of the building, pulling a luggage cart with them.

Time seemed to freeze for Parker as he studied his next victim. "Yes, perfect. You are it," he happily declared as he pulled out his weapon. Humming to himself, Parker took aim.

"Come on Mom," Annie Sanderson enthusiastically yelled, "let's go to our hotel! Dad! Stop playing with your camera!" This was her first trip to Florida and even the airport seemed to shine brightly with a happy vivacity.

"Stop bouncing around like that Annie," her father cheerfully ordered, lining up a shot of Annie in front of the vast parking lot. "How about a wave?"

Annie sighed heavily, rolling her eyes at her father in mock exasperation. "How's this?" she asked, grinning broadly and flapping her hand vigorously at her father's camera.

"Perfect!" he exclaimed. "Now just one more with your mom." As Dave Sanderson clicked the button on his camera he heard the loud, unmistakable sound of a gun firing. Dave instinctively dropped his camera and threw himself in front of his wife and daughter.

All around him people were yelling and saying soft, urgent prayers. "What's happening, Daddy?" Annie whispered, terror shining in her eyes.

"I don't know, sweetie," he said as he lifted up his head and looked around. "It'll be okay," he said soothingly.

David didn't know what to expect, was there an army of terrorists maybe or a single crazed gunman running towards his family? Everything was calm now, a shocked silence had descended upon the busy airport. People who had thrown themselves to the ground were slowly picking themselves up, each of them glancing around in confusion. Some people were running away from the building, others were running towards it. Every movement buzzed with the urgency of self-preservation.

David didn't know what to do. Which way was safe? And then everybody seemed to see it all at once. There was a man lying on the ground, eerily still and motionless. David turned to his wife Jean, who was staring at the man with tears in her eyes. He grabbed her by her shoulders.

"Are you alright?" he urgently questioned.

"F.. fine," she mumbled, never taking her eyes off of the man. David could tell that his sensitive wife was stunned, on the verge of shock. He gently tilted her head so that Jean was looking into his eyes. "I think you should take Annie back into the building, okay? I'll be right there."

Jean seemed to snap out of her stupor. "Right... right. In the building," she repeated. "It's better inside... be careful."

"Don't worry," David said.

David watched as his wife and daughter dazedly wandered into the building.

Then he braced himself as best he could and made his way over to where a small crowd had formed. David winced just looking at the poor man. From where he stood, it looked as if he had just toppled over. David couldn't see anything physically wrong with him until he pushed his way through the ring of people that had formed around him and got a good look at the man's upper body. There was a large, messy bullet hole through the back of his head. He lie in a puddle of blood, it shone brightly in the harsh sunlight. His face and the shoulders of his beige suit were soaked. There was no use testing for a pulse, David thought. He could see brain matter and bone even from where he stood.

David took a breath, trying to shake off the feeling of cold horror that came to him every time he witnessed a scene like this. He had to be a professional now. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his badge, holding it high for the entire crowd to see.

"FBI. I need everybody to back away from the victim," David ordered. "This is a crime scene now."

He nodded at the security guards and National Guardsmen helping him secure the scene. "You find anything?" he asked. Every guard had the same response. No shooter could be found. It was like whoever had done this had disappeared into thin air.

There was nothing else David could do now. It was all up to the evidence.

That's all until after Christmas. Have a great holiday!

And now I shall go wrap presents (with the "help" of three cats). Fun!