The assassin chose his position with great care. He needed maximum cover, a crowd to lend the element of confusion, decoys to throw off all pursuit, and a clear line of fire.
The target had been living for weeks with a heightened sense of danger. Rumors had been traced to dead ends, indistinct warnings had sounded on his perimeters. He was being stalked – he knew it, he could feel it, but the assassin covered his tracks, leaving ghostly evidence. The target would not live in fear or go into hiding, so the ghastly shadow dance continued day into day, week into week.
The assassin was a patient man, moving beneath the radar. Killing was easy. Getting away clean presented the greater challenge. He chose his weapon with great care. Lying in a shooter’s prone position, he slowed his breathing as his target came into view. It really came down to a question of timing. The target stepped into the crosshairs. The shooter let out a long controlled breath, squeezed the trigger, and quietly walked away.
Another perfect hit; another clean escape; another day in the life of a highly-skilled gossip. The target never knew what hit him; shot through the heart; another hapless victim of the character assassin.
Reposted with permission from onehope.net.