The lights are on
Veteran Member - Level 13
The main hall of the banquet
was spectacular. Red silk rugs lined the authentic, polished wooden floors of
the building. Chandeliers lines the ceiling periodically, giving off a warm,
golden glow to the hall. It had a marvelous way of peeling the features of age
off of the anonymous attendants - making Ben's job just that much harder.
With each glance from person to
person, his temper rose slightly. Annoyance came quickly to him, and all he was
thinking was, "Where is the target?".
He should have spotted him by now.
However, that's exactly what
the target wanted.
Through the faint green hue of
his goggles' vision lenses, he tagged Ben with a light square. The killer set
up camp, rustling the large rifle out of his pack and hoisting up into its
stationary position. In no more than ten seconds, he was ready. He took a deep
Frustration broiling, Bond
discreetly stomped over to the window. He needed some fresh air.
"All of these spoiled bourgeoisie
are getting on my nerves", he muttered.
"Would you like some wine, sir?"
asked a young man.
"Sure, why not", he grumbled. He
reached out to the roaming waiter and smoothly grabbed one of the wine glasses
sitting atop the offered tray. "Now leave me be".
Ben took a sip, and could
already feel his nerves slipping away, into the abyss of his mind. "I guess there are some perks to this job,
after all". The sharp-dressed man took another gulp of wine, draining it
halfway, and watched the rest of the world from one of the hall's many windows.
A quiet, yet sharp noise
cracked from outside of the glass pane. Bond could feel the pain already, seeping
from his right shoulder and stemming to his torso. Wine, interlaced with blood,
coughed itself out of his mouth. His vision began to blur, then fade, until
finally tunneling into darkness.
He died without a sound,
without a single giveaway that could have alerted the rest of the rich and
oblivious. His body leaned on the window sill, his hand loosely hoisted above
his wine glass.
Noting a job well done, the
silhouette slid his sniper out of position, packing it back into the back-bag. He
marked the next target's location on his goggle's built-in GPs unit, and calmly
left off to the next location. "Boss is
gonna' get a kick outta this one". On the spot of his set-up, he left a
calling card, emblazoned with a man's hood and labeled, 'STRANGER'.
It wouldn't be until the party
ended - the morning - for Benjamin Bond's
body to be discovered, with his heart still.