I adjusted the sight on my rifle and shifted my shoulders a bit to push the stiffness out. I took a deep breath through my nose and tried to calm my nerves. Where the hell was he?
The city street below was busy with noon traffic heavier than normal and there were a lot of bystanders making their way from one place or another. This job had gone on for too long. No way I was going to miss him this time. He skipped me in Toronto and then again in Buffalo. This time, I thought, I’d get him.
The sweat from my forehead dripped down to my nose and I quickly whipped it on my shirt.
“Come on, come on, you bastard. Where are you?” I waited a few more moments. I was about to readjust again when the revolving door began to spin. The first out were two men, dressed in black, sunglasses, and earpieces. Exactly what you’d expect in a movie. Stuck out like sore thumbs. Idiots.
Another set of black suits walked out, surveyed the area and then was followed by the target. I tensed up in that moment, then remembered my training, and relaxed. I clicked the scope once to adjust for the wind and put my finger back over the trigger.
The target looked up and down the sidewalk and then put his hand over his eyes to shield from the sun and looked up. He scanned the surroundings and then stopped… on me? The target smiled again, a big toothy grin, and then I noticed something: it was me. He gave me a wink, turned and walked down the sidewalk.
What the…
