The Assassin

The green light flashed and he hurried inside the safety of the tower.

“Damn cold out there, isn’t it?”

The voice sliced through the still air like a knife, shattering the silence. The sniper whipped around, his rifle raised.

“That you Johnny?” he tried his best to keep the tremble out of his voice but his hands would not stop shaking. He only hoped that the person did not see it.

He heard somebody laugh, a dark, dry, haunting sound.

That can’t be Johnny.

Before he knew it, the young man was swept off his feet, his head hitting the cold stone floor. He gasped and wheezed for breath, scrambling to find his rifle. His hand clutched empty air.

The muffled shot echoed through the empty hall but not loud enough to raise the alarm. But this blissful ‘silence’ would last for only a few minutes.

Blood pooled from the officer’s head, his hand crunching against the heavy boots as the man stepped over him.

The man smiled, his eyes glowering menacingly.

When the Stranger strikes, he strikes hard.

And before a blink of an eye, he was gone.

~~~

“Fox to Ranger, repeat, Fox to Ranger.”

The sniper pressed his finger against the radio transmitter on his shoulder, the metal slick under his gloved fingers.

“Ranger in, what is it?”

There was static in his ear before he could make out the voice of Fox.

“There seems to be an infiltration. A sniper was recently shot in the east wing. There may have been more. We believe that—”

The voice was cut off by a shout and a series of gunshots before the familiar static took its place.

“Ranger to Fox! Fox, are you in?!”

The static was his only answer.

The sniper gripped his machine gun tighter, his knuckles becoming white.

Suddenly, he felt a brush of air, as if something very quick passed by him.

He whipped around, only to receive an elbow to the chin. The sniper stumbled backwards, holding his broken jaw while his other hand loosely held the grip of his gun. There was a blur and the sound of a muffled gunshot. The sniper’s eyes widened, blood gushing from the hole in his gut. He gasped, clutching his empty stomach and whimpered in pain. Luckily, he was given the gift of mercy and the painful whimpers were no longer heard.

The Stranger stared at the dead guard emotionlessly, the blood on his semi-automatic rifle dripping off of the smooth metal, and slowly tainting the rain.

Only twenty more to go.

Thunder crackled and lightning streaked through the sky, its branches of light illuminating the empty spot where the man once stood.

~~~

“Sir, all the men on the patrol are dead.”

The head of the security division looked up sharply, his voice brisk and clear.

“What?!”

“Sir, t-t-there’s be-en an infiltration,” the officer stuttered, a bit taken aback by his boss’s tone.

“Speak clearly, God dammit!”

The officer straightened and forced his voice to be level. “Sir, there’s been an infiltration in the east wing. Nine officers already dead. We believe that the suspect is already in the building.”

“Then what are you doing here?!” the head of the security division roared. “GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE AND GET THAT MAN!”

The officer bolted for the door, propelled by his duty to serve as well as the fear of facing the wraith of the head of the RSI.

~~~

The Stranger stood in a ring of death, bodies of fallen officers, guards, and snipers at his feet.

That’s everyone in this shithole, he thought.

But before he could disappear in the safety of the shadows, the sirens pierced in the air, its sound blaring through the empty halls.

A guard rounded the corner, falling as the Stranger executed a perfect sweep kick. Within seconds, the man was dead.

Over the next few minutes, men and women fell to the clutches of Death, their moans a plea for mercy. But the Stranger was far from hearing. He was here to find vital information and this he would get done.