“Pull the god damn trigger! Do it now!” I blinked and watched my target, my finger shaky on the trigger.

“Why do you want her dead?” A question never asked before. I was given assignments. I eliminated targets. I never asked any questions. I always did as I was told. And yet this girl seemed different. She was so much younger than the others.

“Do not ask questions. I said shoot!” I gave her a final glance, closed my eyes and pulled the trigger. I shot up, taking a second to glance at her lying on the floor, body guards surrounding her. There was no time to stick around. I zipped up my black hoodie and made a run for it, the sound of the suitcase with my rifle in it, explosions echoing in my ears.

I set my watch. I had two minutes to get to the getaway car. Strict orders, the driver would not wait for me. I ran as fast as I could and couldn’t help thinking about her. I wondered why someone would want her dead.

Huffing and puffing, I finally made it to the rendezvous point. However, there was no car waiting. I swore loudly and checked my watch. I had 15 seconds to spare.

I heard the sound of sirens coming closer and closer. I ducked behind an alley way. They left me behind. I couldn’t believe it. I was their best assassin. I was in demand. What the hell went wrong?

I spoke into my mouth piece, “Where’s the driver?”

Silence. Dead silence. They were abandoning me. I couldn’t believe this was happening. My heart was beating fast and hard against my chest. Sweat was dripping down my forehead. I was about to chuck the wire when I heard a voice. It was Aiden’s.

“You missed… You never miss.” I blinked.

“I want to know why you need her dead.”

“That does not concern you Ash – Agent.”

“I just need to know.”

“Agent, your services have been terminated.” And that was that. I knew what it meant. I had 48 hours to run, 48 hours until they’d find me and kill me. I knew too much. No assassin lived after their contract was terminated.

I threw the wire in the closest bin. I noticed my reflection in a shop window. I couldn’t walk the streets like this. I looked like a killer, blood stains on my clothes and all. Some my own, others the stains of the guards I had to eliminate to get on top of the roof. My mind wandered back to that girl, a Miss Spencer Carlin. I wondered if she was okay. At the last minute, I had aimed to a glass sign above her head. A bit of glass slicing into her skin was a million times better than a bullet going through her skull.