Settled into the mud and brush, Cooper MacBride watches as the shadows twist in the jungle...his eyes easily adjusted to the night...scope slowly tracking. The guards couldn't tell she was approaching. Good. NSA superspys better be able to get past this pack of rent-a-cops.

"Okay..." His voice was barely a whisper, not carrying past his rifle's stock. "First layer penetrated...nice moves.." She couldn't hear him, but the commentary helped him keep some focus. Carefully scanning the estate as she slipped into the porch, he sees one of the guards turn, and his senses sharpen...sighting in, locking up...ready....pausing...the guard shakes his head...turns away...walks back away from the porch. Relaxing very slightly, he waits.

He'd been here for over a week while she performed her insertion. He waited paitently, getting schedules. He had to admit, she looked like a million bucks when she came in that dress for the party. Shame it was wasted on the slimeball. He knew she almost certainly wasn't doing anything with the mark, but still. He'd not mind a chance to sample the goods...his minds eye could just about...

Pain welled as he bit the inside of his cheek, and coppery blood washed over his tongue. Back on task.

A flicked glance to the old military watch on his wrist...5 past zero. She should be inside and on the target...a little too long. Going for something cute. Shit. One way or another, not good.

Guards congregating at the bedroom window.

"Fuck."

Sighting in, he aims...ready to fire if needed. They're on the exit route. Talking...smoking...looks relaxed...stay dumb, assholes...finally, they left without an alarm....seeing their girl slip out and through, another shadow amongst shadows...seeing her evacuate the area and out the planned route. "Must be nice to work for 20 minutes and take the month off..."

After she was on the route, he kept scoped...alarms went off a few minutes later. Someone noticed the boss was dead. Fanning out, two headed on the extraction route. Too bad. Closing in, he sights to the heart on the leader of the searchers - bang. A brush of steel over a brush as the silenced rifle fired, and target down. "Item down."

The second whipped around, looking, but not calling to a radio yet. Good. Another shot - no chest angle....head shot. Eyeball shot - Bang. Crumbling, good shot.

"Item down. Threat clear."

2 shots left in the clip, and out in the pre-dawn haze. No more shots expended and a clear op as he slid back into the bush and to his own extraction aboard a Night Hawk bound for extraction and debrief once he landed at a friendly staging area in Chile to his CO.

"Good clean op, Seargeant. Very clean shots - and the NSA sends their thanks for assisting."

"Not a problem sir." The tall, leanly muscled, fair-skinned, blond sniper replied in a quiet, slightly raspy bass, no accent colouring his speech. Mirrored sunglasses shielded his eyes from view and from the too bright lights of the room..

"Any other conclusions?" The Colonel asked as he checked over paperwork.

"If they'd been willing, I think we could have eliminated him from a distance, but that's it."

The Colonel smirked as he signed off the paperwork. "You always say that, MacBride...getting jealous of our silver haired friend?"

Frowning briefly, he covered. "Sure I don't know what you mean, sir. Just pointing out it's a bit less complicated."

A soft chuckle followed with a packet of orders. "Well, maybe you can convince them on the next one. Shower up and then get ready for another plane trip back to the states."