Just FYI: I'm kinda preoccupied with finals right now, but in about
a week, I'll be able to work on this some more. If you're interested,
that is.
October 21, 2016, 9:18pm – I could see the dark clouds were rolling in on that windy Friday night.I observed the attendees speaking to one another. I noted the band playing to the crowd. I could see the audience's applause. I could see a man tap his spoon to his glass, calling attention to the crowd. I could see the crowd grow silent with anticipation.
Yet, I heard nothing.
Nothing but my own thoughts. As I sat there constructing my rifle, my weapon, my "tool of the trade" as it were, I did nothing but think of my mark. This was sort of a ritual for me, to help me through the job. It wasn't easy being me.
Dr. Jacob Heyman. Age: 47. Renowned for research of biological cures for sicknesses and diseases at Rolenox Research and Development in Seattle, I thought to myself. Objective: Terminate mark at Rolenox biannual press conference. The mark was one of the company's senior researchers, as well as one of their most valued assets. He took part in finding cures for AIDS, HIV, the common cold, as well as a few others I can't remember off the top of my head. As I finished screwing the silencer onto the barrel of the rifle, I felt that something was off. Something was not right. I couldn't put my finger on it at the time, but it felt as if something were afoot. Quickly, I glanced around the roof. Nothing was there. I shrugged it off, and went back to work.
As I lay prone on the adjacent building, looking at Heyman approaching the podium, I stopped. The feeling came back again. I looked around, again trying to figure out what was amiss. Everything seemed to be in order, so I pushed the feeling back again. I looked through the scope to where my target was. Pushing all thoughts aside, I only concentrated on my breathing. All I heard was breathing. In. Out. Repeat.
One shot.
That's all that I had. After that, anything goes. Unfortunately, more can go wrong then it can right. A miss could cancel a contract, but an unintentional hit would mean the end of my career. And that's just for starters. There would be no telling what would happen if there was a witness, or if the authorities got involved. I couldn't miss. I wouldn't miss. I never miss. No pressure.
One shot. No pressure.
Heyman was in my sights. I let my rifle rest on the edge of the building for support, the same way I always do. He seemed to have a proud look on his face, the crowd rippling with . But why? Then it hit me. He had brought his speech to a close, along with my window of opportunity. As I caught on, everything seemed to slow down. I was sweating bullets, while at the same time, trying to direct one towards my mark. I hesitantly picked up my weapon. I was going to have to make this shot unsupported. He was crossing the courtyard, on his way to the parking lot, and out of range.
I had 10 seconds. Story of my life.
I tried to pull the trigger, but something stopped me.
7 seconds. I tried again. Nothing.
5 seconds. The safety was on.
3 seconds. Switching the safety off, I tried again. Nothing.
1 second. I pulled the trigger with all of my might.Then it was all over.
I know it's short, but it's only chapter 1. I've already got part of chapter 2 done, so stay tuned! (If you're interested...)