KILL SHOT

1. Ten.

Today is shit.
Like most of my days. Or nights.
It's fair to say my entire life sucks.
The only fun I get is when I shoot a hit.
Beside Alexei. He was so boring to kill. He's always been boring, dead or alive. A real pain in my ass.
He deserved to die, he fucked up his mission, and mine in the same time.
Fucker. Bungling, half assed fucker.

I'm wondering if I would have to shoot down Linsky as well one day or another. Alexei and Linsky are the worst henchmen I ever met. Fucking Russian brothers. Their mother should be so ashamed to have brought those cheapest motherfuckers into the world.

I'm lucky the Zec didn't get me killed for hiring that little son of a bitch but I'm so pissed off he chose Vlad as his right-hand man for this trip in the back streets of Chicago.
Vlad the Butcher, that asshole barely speaking our language, babbling with that strong East European accent, Belarussian or Albanian I don't know. Vlad the perfect Butcher, who never failed nor flinched when slaughtering thugs, assholes, women or children.

I'm a killer, a fucking good sniper, I could shoot a running target at 400 yards in full speed wind. I can, I already did it. That's way more respectable and neat than stabbing then chopping a corpse in pieces, leaving a disgusting bloody murder scene behind, still echoing with the screams and begs of the victim.

I'm a good soldier, I take my orders, study the file, stalk the target's habits, home, car, family and choose the best conditions to eradicate it: location, time and weapon. I'm very creative when it's about getting rid of it.

Yeah it, not them. They're not human beings to me, just pieces of shit that even don't deserve either the bullet they get in the head, or the time I spend working of their cases.

I'd be the happiest man on the planet if I could kill everyone, my boss included. The world can't afford for so much assholes anyway, mankind would be better without all those cockroaches. I would be better without those dicks around me.

Me, myself and I would be perfect. My guns and a beer.
I check my watch. 9 a.m. Too soon for booze. Shit.

Maybe my routine would help to cheer me up. Cleaning up my babies and working out on my boxing bag always clear my head but not today.
I keep on brooding shits, I hate being benched. Nobody puts me to the side, I'm not the one to be ignored.
The last one who belittled me rests in peace at the bottom of the Allengheny River. The little prick thought he could teach me my job and contradicted me in front of a client. I killed them both, good riddance.

Though I can't kill the Zec, he's a big fish. Zec means prisoner, he spent most of his life in a Soviet gulag; If forty years of freezing his ass with only his fingers to eat hasn't kill him, nobody can.
We have that big Plan, something huge, something brilliant and he specifically chose me because I was the best for this mission.
His own words: "Ain't someone in the State able to shoot from that distance but you. I see something big for you, boy, make it a success and you'll be my right arm."

Ha, ha, Vlad you're fucked. How would that stupid butcher manage to kill 5 or 6 people from the other side of the Allengheny river? With a fucking bow and arrow? Or could he throw his knives from 400 yards range successfully?
No I'm the only one for this job. Simply the best.

This little conversation with myself has lightened up my mood. Just sit down for a while and take a look to that smart plan of yours:
The woman's appointment at her banker is scheduled in 5 days. The Zec gave me carte blanche, all I have to do is to pave the way for the cops. A path planted with evidences that lead straight to Barr. Subtle but not that much, cops are the worst pieces of shit, bunch of armed imbeciles, blind most of the time, even when bright clues shine under their noses.

I've gone to the shooting range in Ohio regularly for weeks, my cap before my eyes. Even like this I hit the bullseye each time.
The van is ready, the bullets are ready, the location is clear, I went 3 times reconnoitering the site. I even have a plan B and a plan C. I'm ready as fuck.

5 days. If only I could kill time as easy as I kill people.

I need a smoke.
I have a few rules, unbreakable. No mercy. No weakness. Not smoking inside my flat. That's what terraces are made for.

I grab my pack, open the French doors and step outside of the apartment.
Fresh air is exactly what I need. The view is quite interesting, clear shot on a beautiful landscape. Well, if you're a fucking poet.

Not a living soul in the neighbourhood, I sigh, that's one of the reasons that made me pick up this place. 9 to 5 stupid sheep, gone from 8 to 6, no school, no play ground, no kids in the vicinity.
Only busy dickheads, focused on working their asses off to earn enough money and move out of this rat hole, buying a big house, a big car, a big ass to spawn little brats with and ruining their lives to feed everybody.

They even have no time nor decency to say hi, or worse, knock at my door to ask for a corkscrew or a power drill.

How lucky am I.

I light a cigarette, ready to enjoy the burn in my lungs and the shot of nicotine in my veins. I force myself to stay healthy and sporty, but I like having this little addiction. It makes me a little more human.

"Morning!"
A shiny call comes from nowhere.

My eyes search for what mouse squeaked and land on a girl, waving at me, with an unsettling enthusiasm.

Beside the inappropriate gesticulation, the girl is absolutely stunning. Big boobs stuck in a short top, belly button and flat belly visible, long thighs, right curves in the right places. Who the fuck is this goddess and what does she wants?

Something flinches in my heart, it must be a mistake, I don't have one. A cold stone in my better days.
Let's say something happened in my chest, not like a stroke, more like a warm... thing.
Fuck I'm rambling like an old lady.

She's just hot and I'm horny, that's all.
It's been an eternity since the last time I fucked. Tiffany, Leslie, Kenzie or whatever this little cunt was called. She was gorgeous but nowhere near that fucking mermaid.

I'm just curious as to why my chest twisted first, not my cock.

The effect she has on me is annoying. No, disturbing. She has an effect on me. What the fuck?!

The girl is staring at me, the arm that waved at me loosely resting over her head. Her fucking blue stare staring at me.
Christ, I'm confounded.

That smart ass came to the conclusion I'm dumb or disabled, and crouches down to grab a box laying there.

She walks confidently towards the building entrance, not bothered by me and my stunned self, not minding me at all.
I told you I'm not the one to be ignored. I have to figure out what I could say, so I get the last word.

OK, I haven't opened my mouth yet.

The girl walks underneath me, back and forth few more times, carrying her boxes, humming whatever song she has in mind.

"Need help?" I try at one point, while she's back to the building. The tone is not the one I wanted. Shit, it almost sounded nice.

She stops and lifts her face to me, her fists hooked on her waist, studying me.

"Yeah, wanna join me?" She asks without hesitation. That smile lightening her face. Fuck! I advert my eyes, I'm starting to feel... weird. Uncomfortable and good. Interested.

Troubles, troubles right ahead.

"Nope." I state. I force myself to stay cool, focus on smoking, like it requires a diploma.

"Nice. Thanks for asking then." She grumbles.

I smirk. I never smirk. But ironically.
That situation is not ironic. It's funny.
Since when do I give a shit to funny thing?

Since her. 5 minutes ago.
Fuck.