Hey. I swear that I did not forget about this. Life just got really, really, really crazy, and I'm really sorry. But I've got a long-ish chapter for tonight, and hopefully more this week (though after last time, I will make no promises about updates anymore.) I do, however, promise to try much, much harder to get updates up! I hope my entire base didn't give up on my in my absence :( Anyways, please enjoy! Love (even though I kind of abandoned you guys), Tickgrey

The next morning I woke up naturally. I yawned and stretched before remembering exactly where I was. I looked down at my watch which read seven o'clock. Slowly, I pulled myself out of bed and to the bathroom to take a quick shower. Not long after pulling on fresh set of clothes, there was a brisk knock on the door. I opened it to see Catherine once again. "You ready?" she asked looking freshened up as well.

I nodded and followed her out the door and to a small room near the stairs. It was some sort of planning room. Maps lined the walls, and there were a few computer stations along the wall. In the center was a long wooden table with documents scattered across it.

Catherine sat down and motioned for me to do so as well which I did hesitantly. She flipped through a stack of papers in front of her before tossing the fifth one towards me. I skimmed through it before looking up. She cleared her throat and began, "Alright, our first target is Robert Franks, an American who now lives here in Moscow. He is the primary source of funding for the Circle. He's hired them for a variety of illegal dealings including drug running and assassinations throughout Russia. Currently, he spends his time mostly at his club. We'll take him out at his house, however."

I nodded. She continued, "It shouldn't be difficult. The man is careful, but he is vane. His home is an apartment with far too many glass windows."

She tossed me a blue print which I surveyed quickly. "So where are we getting in?"

She shook her head, "We're not. You'll be here," she pointed on a map of the neighborhood to a building across the street. She then moved her finger to another building on the other side of the block. "I'll be here. We'll both be in perfect position to snipe him depending on which room has the best shot."

"Snipe him?" I gulped.

"Unless you have some sort of objection?" she mocked. "I thought you were willing to do whatever it would take?"

I shook my head, "Nope. I'm game. I just don't have much experience with that kind of stuff."

"We'll get you ready," she said with far too eager of a smile.

I spent most of the next week in the shooting range that I had notice on my way into the compound. It kind of sickened me, but I was really good at this. My instructor was a short, rounded man who was simply addressed by 'Pierre,' but he wasn't French, so the name seemed like a little bit of a misnomer.

As I lay on the ground with the rifle pressed up against my body, I let my mind focus in just as I had been taught. My target had been calibrated to be almost the exact conditions we were expecting for the op. I was shooting through one layer of glass and almost fifty meters across the street. The weather was showing relatively calm conditions for the night, but I had been practicing with varying amounts of wind.

My finger adjusted my scope and then flickered to adjust the rifle itself. I breathed in slowly and allowed myself to become one with the gun. I wondered if this is the sort of thing that Zach had learnt at Blackthorne. No. I commanded myself. I couldn't let my mind wander. I took five more calming breaths just to be sure that I was completely refocused.

I closed my eyes and moved my finger down to the trigger. The cold metal was bliss against my finger. Breathe in. And with the exhale, I let my finger glide just barely pressing the trigger towards my body as I felt the cool air from my nose come out against my arm. I didn't even need to look at the target to know that the shot was perfect.

And suddenly, I snapped back to reality. There was clapping behind me. I set the rifle down and looked behind me to see Catherine clapping. I began to stand up as she said, "Excellent."

I followed her out the door. Her pace was unusually brisk today; most days we were in no hurry at all to head down to the shooting range, but today something was different. She headed back to the same planning room we had used a week ago.

We sat down once again, and she handed me a thin fine, "Those are the final details of the op tonight."

"Tonight?" I stuttered. She nodded. "Are you sure I'm ready?"

She shrugged, "You don't have to be perfect yet. You just have to be proficient enough in case I screw up."

"Oh," I responded. I suppose that was a little comforting. "So, how are we getting in?"

She pointed on the map, "You're ending through the back. The building is a store, but it's for lease, so it'll be very easy to break in. Your perch is on the top floor, but not the roof. You'll know where you're meant to be when you get there."

I nodded. "When are we leaving?"

"Five hours," she said after glancing at her watch. I nodded and headed back to my room to get some sleep before the op. It was going to be a long night.

Later that night, I found myself sitting in a black car with Catherine at the wheel. She'd given me even more detailed instructions about the building which I took in gratefully, but I really just wanted to get this over with. She pulled up in a sketchy alley and motioned for me to get out. Before I closed the door, I heard her call, "Good luck, kid!"

I slammed the door and proceeded through the dim alleyway. There was only a single source of light which was a battered bulb hanging from just its cord. It flickered ominously but managed to remain lit. The ground was worn asphalt coated in muck and grime. There were too many pot holes and puddles to count, but I did my very best to avoid as many as possible.

Finally, I got to a familiar building. It was the same plain, ordinary building that I had been studying, but it felt comforting to see it now. I dug through my pocket for my picks (a high quality set which had been provided by the splinter group) and got to work on the lock. It wasn't hard to pick, but few people try to break into a rundown place like this. Why on Earth would such a wealthy man reside in a dodgy neighborhood like this? I pushed this thought out of my mind. Just the facts and the gun, I reminded myself.

I reached my perch at last. It looked warm and homey amidst the dark, drafty room. I made my way to the spot and pulled my rifle out of my backpack. I allowed the pieces to roll through my fingers as I assembled my gun. My watch informed me that I had plenty of time to make sure everything was perfect.

After the gun was absolutely perfect, I got down into my position on the ground and let my finger play with the trigger. The gun wasn't loaded yet, but that was just about to change. I decided to check my scope and get into position first.

Well, that was odd. I peered through the scope at where the window should have been, but there was none. I got up from the ground carefully and looked out the window above me. The building across from me was nothing like Catherine described it. But surely there was a reason? Maybe I entered the wrong building? But everything about this building was spot on.

I looked around and crouched back down again to try to get a handle on the situation. Suddenly, there were distant shots. That must be Catherine! She was in the right spot! I was just wrong. Everything was going to be fine.

But it wasn't.

Suddenly, the room lit up. There were shouts and flashes and stomps and noises. "Get on the ground!" "Drop the weapon!" "Hands on your head!"

I complied, but everything was hazy now. I thought I saw a familiar face, but before I could say anything, a black bag was pulled over my head, and I was dragged out of the building.