The Assassin Essay

The assassin waited patiently at the dirty shattered window of the six storey hotel. She stood at the east facing window of the second floor, her wet black hair casting a shadow across her lifeless face. A bead of sweat rolled lazily down her forehead and dropped down onto the damp stained carpet. Her fingers lingered around the ice cold trigger of her deadly weapon. She broke into the room wearing blue jeans and a deep black polo neck jumper. On top of the polo neck she wore a black puffer jacket, her hair and cloths wet from the rain outside.

In her steady hands, she held a well polished, smooth, long black case holding her partner which would take away the need for revenge for the tragedy that happened to her family. She found a desert eagle on the rickety splintered dressing table and a bullet proof jacket on the cigarette burned bed. On top of the jacket was a police badge which she picked up and put in the back pocket of her sodden blue jeans. She strolled up to the east facing window and placed her case on the circular table which was situated underneath the window. She unlatched the three polished silver clips and gently raised the lid till it clicked into position.

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She unfolded the red silk cloth which revealed her partner. She looked lovingly at her most precious possession, seeing her saddened face in the reflection of the barrel of her rifle. Using both hands she picked the rifle up and placed the barrel over her right shoulder, holding the end of the handle in her right hand, using the left to unlatch the dirty shattered window. She walked to the other side of the room and pulled a chair from under the rotten desk towards the open window and sat down. Her expressionless face stared through the darkness of the night at the restaurant across the road where her victim was shortly due to arrive.

She sat still not moving a muscle. A cockroach crawled over her foot and she didn’t twitch. She knew this hit, this was a big one as it was her old boss. Her last job went wrong and her boss took it personally. Being the nice man that he was he had his right hand man kidnap her husband and two kids. Then her boss brutally murdered them. She had been planning this day for just over a year and not one thing was going to go wrong. A black Subaru Impretza pulled up outside the restaurant, her eyes flared up like an erupting volcano and her finger caressed the trigger of her rifle. A man in his mid forties got out, it wasn’t her victim.

Her fingers released the tension off the trigger and her eyes cooled down. He clambered back into the car and drove off. Barely minutes after the departure of the first car, a shinny silver Porsche 911 turbo rolled up outside the hotel. Again her index finger caressed the trigger. Her eyes gleamed up and a blue flame appeared in her once black pupils. Her boss’s right hand man emerged from the driver’s door and walked around to the passenger door next to the pavement and opened the handle. A man in a white suit stepped out of the car and slammed the door shut. The slammed door was her signal which meant her boss had nowhere to go.

The two men stepped two spaces from the car towards the restaurant entrance, the assassin who was now standing, stood as still as an owl with the barrel of the gun facing out of the window towards the boss’s right hand man. The trigger snapped back and the bullet flew like a bird of prey towards him. It flew through his neck and indented into the pavement behind. Her boss fell from the shock to the ground and stared to where the bullet had come from, the assassin snapped back the reloading lever and an empty smoking cartridge spat to the ground. She looked through her steadied scope at him whimpering on the ground.

It was at that point she unleashed her second bullet. This one dove through the air and drilled through her boss’s chest, splintering his ribcage and piercing his heart. She looked at him fitting on the ground whilst again snapping the reloading lever back home for the third time, spitting the cartridge next to the last one which had stopped smoking. She aimed and fired, this bullet had only one target. It pierced through his skull and wedged into his head. She watched the dark red blood run from the pair of bodies down the sloping pavement before mixing with the rain water then disappear down the gutter.

She hastily packed up her rifle and opened the door. To the sound of ever approaching police cars. She ran down the stairs and out through the main entrance of the hotel. Looking across the road she saw a crowd of people gathered around the bodies. From that crowd emerged two policemen running towards the entrance of the hotel. She took the badge from out of her back pocket of her jeans, held it up and calmly said to the officers “I want this building surrounded”. She left the officers and walked down the uneven road, rifle case in hand. She did not feel relieved but sad for the only true victims, her family.

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