Author note:
This is my first entry to fanfiction so I hope you enjoy. I would love and pointers on how to improve my work.

Death's bullet

Part 1:

The night was the utmost, stunning. Silver stars speckled an ebony sky beside a moon, the slender silver crescent casting its glow on the thick evergreen forest, a deep trench, high walls and on an ancient Chinese styled home. In the freshly mowed green lawn the family played, laughed. Yes indeed, the So Young's had a magnificent home that reminded him of a dojo that he had once seen in a book from school. The house was done in tasteful colors of crème with a chocolaty roof. Once again Bryan turned his attention back to the antics of the family. A family of three. One was his target, one a wife and a homemaker, the last a sweet faced cherub.

Bryan's target was Swon So Young. A man of great military importance and an even greater influence to his family. Swon was a slender man, in his growing age his black dress pants and silk raven shirt hung loosely on him creating the appeal of elegance instead of a too stressed environment, with salt and pepper close cropped hair. Definitely his heritage belonged to China.

The wife of the family was clearly English. Her name was Ginger or Nutmeg, something spice related. That was unimportant; he had no reason to know her name. A sweet spring breeze scented with fresh roses and lilies from the small pond in their yard blew her layered bangs against an intricate bun on the back of her head. Large liquid caramel eyes shone warmth he couldn't recall seeing in years, if that is he ever witnessed at all. It radiated from her creamy porcelain skin. She reminded him of a memory his employers wouldn't allow him to have. A faint laughter from the family reached ears that were trained to be as sharp as a Papillon's. (Little French lap dog with large bat like ears.)

Swon's little angel was a hybrid, a mixture of Chinese and English looks. The face structure was definitely Chinese but with honey colored eyes and golden highlighted brown hair the color of bittersweet chocolate gave the English appearance from behind. The skin was clearly inherited from her mother, a creamy porcelain color. Bryan couldn't be positive but the name of the daughter, from his memory, seemed to be Angel. How ironic.

Ice blues pinpointed Swon's head through the scope on his sniper, one shot that's all he needed. As his adrenaline picked up, he could feel the minor electric shock from the chip traveling up his spinal column to his brain, telling the brain the send direction to the index finger resting on the trigger to pull it. The so called superiors would be greatly displeasured to learn the knowledge that he was fully aware of the chip located above his vertebra at the nape of his neck.

The chip was a new advance in medical knowledge for mental patients. What is was, was a microchip the size of a dime that was inserted next to the spinal column leading to the brain and it hooked up to a central computer monitoring the patients emotions, thoughts, movements. Yet, it also could be used to create the perfect assassin by blocking memory of their pervious life along with other things. This at the moment happened to be him.

Even now the shocks were increasing. When whoever had the chip resisted the shocks would increase until the person went into convulsions and thus getting what the master at the computer wanted. Now it would to be to pull the trigger. If he resisted, eventfully the convulsions would cause his hands to clench and the sniper fired, then he would go into shock and pick up for the unconscious Bryan would be called. Staring at the father intently, the sniper was aimed for the man's head. No pain if Bryan hit his mark, just an instant death. His were clamped shut.

'I can do this.' He mentally repeated as if those words were a mantra. Laughter floated up to him on his perch from the large evergreen. Muscles tensed and pressure was directed on the trigger from his index finger. So close, all he had to do was pull, let it loose.

Somehow, in the back of his mind, he knew that he just couldn't do it. There was something about this happy family that his mind refuses to let the death of the father taint. Bryan had a sense of a relationship between a distant memory that was taken from him and this loving family. Maybe at one point in time he had a family like that. A sigh escaped his lush lips, no use thinking about a past that he would never see again. Swiftly the gun was lowered and taken apart in a matter of seconds. One last glance at the elated, wonderful family was all he allowed.

Slinging the black duffel bag over his shoulder, he strides with a step of arrogance and confidence rolled into one away from the joyful festivities. Tonight was going to be a long night.