Crosshairs

I'll start off with something a tad fast paced, maybe befitting a movie. Enjoy!

Crosshairs

I lie, prone, front down, and breathe calmly and deeply. It’s cold, so body stiffness could be a potential problem if I’m waiting for too long. I’ve taken precautions; balaclava, several layers, extra socks. My footwear has to be light, just in case I’m seen. Then again, it’s dark, and I’m wearing all black. Precautions.

“Any movement?” Eliza Stone’s voice in my earpiece asks.

“Negative.”

A pause. Do we continue the conversation, risking loss of concentration, or am I left to my own thoughts again. I wouldn’t mind a conversation with Eliza, even if it was a brief one. Better than ‘talking’ with James Payne, in any respect.

The pause continues, and I’m tempted to check my earpiece.

“How you holding up?”

I smile. “Just toasty, yourself?”

She chuckles; “It’s bloody freezing in this heated apartment. Sit tight, won’t be long now.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Silence. Back to my thoughts. I look again through my scope, straight at the main entrance of the Domus Solis Hotel across the road. No movement.

I sigh, and think ruefully of the warm room Eliza and Payne were sat in, two floors beneath me, the gallons of coffee they were probably necking, the burger wrappers that probably littered the floor. I shiver, and my stomach grumbles. If only I’d won the damn coin toss.

I lie there for roughly another hour, with regular check-ups from Eliza every ten minutes or so. Still nothing happens in front of the hotel. Keeping my patience, I entertain myself by picturing the perfect shot. And the pay out that comes with it.

Then, I see someone walk out of the Domus Solis. He’s tall, wearing a black trench coat over a tailored suit. His hair is jet black. He isn’t our man.

He’s our man’s man.

He takes a pack of cigarettes out of his coat. I can tell he’s nervous; it takes him a few attempts to light the cig; his hands are very shaky. It might’ve been from the cold, except his face was a picture of panic.

“Eliza, look out the window.”

I hear a shuffling, through the earpiece.

“He doesn’t look too happy, does he?”

“Tell Payne to keep an eye on him, you come up here.”

“Alright, give me a second. James, take these.”

I wait for her, and in the mean time I keep a close eye on the tall man with the cigarette. He gets through it quickly, and pulls another one out. I hear footsteps, and turn sharply onto my feet, pulling a blade from my thigh. Precautions.

It’s Eliza. Her long brown hair is tied in a ponytail, and her bright green eyes are sharp and alert. She raises an eyebrow. Then I notice she has a knife in her own right hand. She follows my eyes, shrugs and says; “Precautions, right?”

I nod towards the hotel. The man is still there, on what I presume is his third cigarette.

“If I shot him, I’d probably prevent a whole load of lung cancer, y’know.”

“And scare away the money shot? I doubt his well-being is worth missing our payday.”

“We could try for both?”

“Let’s get the target first, okay? Then you can be a good Samaritan. Look, he’s going back in.”

I get back on my belly and position the scope. Eliza pulls a pair of binoculars out and lies down beside me.

The man’s gone from sight, but I wait with baited breath. I can sense something coming.

I try to gain a better angle, but nothing going. Payne probably has a decent view, being lower down, so I get his attention through the earpiece.

“Payne, try get a view through the hotel door. See anything?”

“I see Cigarette Man’s legs, just about. He’s waiting at the front desk, I think.”

“Tell me if he moves.”

But I don’t need him to say anything; Cigarette Man walks straight back out, followed by a man in a grey blazer and dark blue trousers.

 I smile. Our man. Al Dorston.

I grip my rifle, and wait for the two men to stop moving enough to get a decent shot. I get a good view on Al’s forehead, and I know it won’t last for long. I take a deep breath, and let my heart rate slow down. No point in wasting a perfect opportunity out of basic clumsiness.

My finger is on the trigger, and I empty my mind of everything but Al’s face.

His face, which was now looking straight at me.

I collapse flat on the cold cement of the roof, pulling a swearing Eliza down with me. We both lie perfectly still for minutes, not daring to see the damage. My heart is racing again.

Eventually I poke my head up, and sigh with relief. He’s still talking to Cigarette Man, apparently taking no real notice of Eliza or me. I re-aim the rifle, and speed through the preparation process. Deep breath.

Relax the heart rate.

Focus the cross hairs.

I squeeze the trigger.

He’s dead before he hits the floor.

The misty cloud of blood surrounds Cigarette Man, who is stationary with shock. Everyone else in the vicinity screams and runs, but he just stands there.

Then I have an idea. “Payne, you there? Your turn buddy, you can chase the sonofabitch.”

Eliza turns to me, incredulous. I wink, and she shakes her head. I hear Payne grumbling, but a few seconds later he’s out of the apartment block and sprinting straight to Cigarette Man.

But Cigarette Man regains his senses, sees Payne and runs. I smile; love a good chase.

He’s surprisingly quick for a heavy smoker, but the tobacco catches up with him, and within seconds he’s panting for breath. Payne catches up with ease, tackles him and wrestles him into a nearby alley. A minute later, Payne walks out. Alone.

He sees us on the roof and gives us the finger. I laugh, and Eliza joins in. Everything’s a lot funnier once we’ve won.

Thank you for reading.