I arrive at the casino right on time. As I approach the entrance, I notice the bouncers glaring at me. As soon as I enter, they advance on me and tackle me to the ground. I scream in pain as one of them twists my arm, and Mr Leone walks out of his office. With a simple hand gesture, he calls the bouncers back to their positions and I struggle to my feet.. I follow him into his office, clutching my left arm. A newspaper lies open on the table. One of the articles has been circled in red pen;

"TORENO AND MYSTERY ACCOMPLICE KILLED IN AIRCRAFT CRASH"

After stealing a confidential item from the Easter Basin Army Facility, Mike Toreno, former agent of the CIA died when his helicopter crashed into a building last night. Although no body was found..."

"Yeah, that'll be the day." I mutter.

"Yeah, I know"Salvatore concedes, "Those same articles were all over the papers after that punk from Liberty "assassinated" me. 'Course he never did really finish the job. My philosophy for life - always send out a dummy car first."

"Good advice, sir."

"You hear about this kid here?" He points to an article over the page. "Been here two months and he's already tearing the place up."

Month and a half, I think to myself, and snigger quietly.

"You could learn somethin from him, kid. Watch yerself. This kid might even be anglin for your job."

"What do you want, Mr. Leone?"

"What? Oh, yeah. There's this news journalist, right? Always stickin his nose where it aint wanted. Let's just say he's got some...incriminating evidence regarding the casino and myself. Now he's threatening to take it to court if I don't give him a share in the casino profits."

"So what do you want me to do?" I ask, as if I didn't already know the answer.

"I want you to waste him. But don't get caught, or we'll both have our necks in the noose. I've hidden a firearm at the address here," He hands me a piece of paper. "He passes by here at three every day. Don't screw this up, or it'll be all over the tabloids. And that's the last thing we need."

I leave the casino, and call a cab. This way I can take in some sights and get a ground view of the city. People are going about their business as normal. This is a city that runs on crime, and nobody thinks anything of it. Shop owners pay protection money to the mafia or they get a pair of cement shoes, people keep their mouths shut about everything that goes on, or they sleep with the fishes. Obviously this reporter is new in town.

The cabbie pulls over in front of the building, and I pay him his fare. I step out and gaze at the rooftop. It must be ten stories high. I take the elevator to the roof, where a sniper rifle is waiting with a note attached, in the same familiar scrawled writing;

he waits for a bus at three every day. his bus will be taking an unscheduled detour if all goes to plan. he won't wait around forever though kid so make it quick. and remember, you only get one shot at this, so don't blow it, and don't let him get away.

I check my watch. Two fifty-five. I take a deep breath, and grasp the gun in both hands. I look through the aimer and take a couple of imaginary practice shots. I manoeuvre the gun to the bus stop, in time to see the target arrive. I clench my hands tightly around the gun, take aim, close my eyes, and slowly squeeze the trigger. People scream, and birds flutter. I open my eyes and see the victim remain standing. He appears to be looking at me.

"DAMMIT!"

I throw the gun to the ground and run to the stairs, half sprinting, half falling down them. I run to the front of the building and straight into his view. The woman next to him hands him a set of keys and he runs round the corner. I stagger after him with all my remaining strength and see him get into a sedan, and start the engine. I produce my pistol and point it at a biker. While keeping the gun inches from his head, I hop on the back.

"Chase him!"

Obediently the biker accelerates forward after the speeding car. I take a couple of shots and blow one of his tires, causing him to swerve, but remain in control.

"Go faster! Pull up beside him!"

I steady myself on the back of the bike, wind blowing in my face, and jump to the roof of the journalist's car, hanging on as tight as I can. He swerves from side to side, trying to throw me off, cutting into side alleys and switching lanes constantly. I look forward and see, to my horror, the diverted bus mentioned in the mission briefing careering down the one way street towards us.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!"

I pull myself to a crouched position, and jump, seconds before impact, into a dumpster. A minute later, after recovering, I pick myself up and walk over to the wreckage.

Still breathing.

I load my gun and I close my eyes.

And fire.

There is a groaning sound behind me. I turn around and see the biker crawl out of an alleyway nearby. I aim the gun and him.

"Keep your mouth shut. If you know what's good for you." I just couldn't bring myself to shoot him.

He nods, and drives off on his severely battered bike.

I head to a payphone and call Salvatore. "It's done."

"Great. Did anyone see you?"

"No one." I lie.

"Okay. I'll send someone round to the hotel with your payment."

"Can you make sure they don't come in the middle of the night like last ti- hello? Damn."