Born For The Trigger: Inheriting Shadows

~CHAPTER 2~

~The Assignment~

Today was a new day, a day Sam hoped to be different, a day that was going to change how Sam viewed the world.

Sam was working on some new fighting stances when his uncle called him to his private dojo. Sam was the only person allowed inside. Any other person who was allowed in either came out with a few broken bones or mysteriously vanished – it was like a one-way trip.

"What do you want?" Sam spoke as he stepped inside the dojo.

His uncle was completely unfazed by the bluntness. In their line of work there was no need for formalities, so every conversation was always straight to the point. Even though he spoke so coldly, his uncle knew what he meant. Words were merely a means for communication and efficiency was everything to an assassin.

"Sam, I need you to go undercover and make sure an old friend has a good place in hell." The entire time his uncle spoke, his face remained calm with no way of Sam reading what was going on in his head.

Again, with the same cold tone, Sam spoke, "Where am I going and when?"

It was like all the lessons he had been taught on how to respect the elderly were completely neglected, almost as if he had forgotten that he was talking to his uncle.

The answer came swiftly. Too swift it almost felt like a sucker punch to the gut. It triggered something in Sam's mind—something that was important to him. "Germany. Berlin, to be exact."

Then suddenly, as if a flood had washed over him, he remembered that Germany was the place where he lived. A place where life was normal. A place where everything was right with the world. But it was also the place where his parents died. Sam was at a loss for words. In that moment it felt like the air had been sucked out of his lungs. As if his uncle could sense what he was feeling, he spoke again to break the silence that was starting to fill the room.

"You leave this evening. I suggest you get packing. You have two hours, then you leave for the airport." Just like that, the conversation was over, and Sam left.

Later that evening, after he had packed, his uncle sent him a car that would take him to the airport. The academy was hidden in a remote location, so it took some time for them to even reach one of the main roads. They arrived at the airport, and as Sam was getting out of the car, the driver handed him a black manila folder with 'CONFIDENTIAL' printed in block letters across the front.

"The information on your target." Nothing more was said. Nothing more needed to be said. Sam promptly got out of the car and started walking so he could board the plane.

When Sam finally found his seat and settled down he got out the manila folder and opened it up. The folder only consisted of a singular sheet of paper, which had brief but terse information on his target.

TARGET:

First name: Connor

Last name: Unknown

Age: 18 years old

Family: Deceased

Occupation: In school at Macendric High School (Senior), but works part-time at 'Its O'clock Café'

Physical appearance:

Brown hair. Hazel eyes. 6'2. Muscular build.

It was odd how his uncle's people managed to hack into a school system of a different country and forge new identities but still couldn't find the last name of his target. That didn't sit right with Sam. Either this Connor guy wasn't who he seemed or his uncle was keeping something from him. But why? Regardless of the information, or lack of, Sam still had a job to do,

Somewhere between the cheap peanuts and the boring movies, he fell asleep and before he knew it, he was in Germany. Although he was very tired, he managed to gather the strength to get to his apartment, but only barely. The apartment was a not-too-shabby but it wasn't anything he'd have picked for himself. It was the 'perfect' home. The living room had a very distinct stain on the carpet that looked like a coffee spill, but just in case it wasn't, Sam made a mental note not to go near the thing. The bedroom wasn't half as bad as the living room, but it still wasn't somewhere he would willingly choose to stay. All Sam wanted right now was a good night's sleep in hopes that the jetlag wouldn't hit him as hard.

Sam woke to the sound of his annoying alarm blaring. 02:00, the clock displayed. Sam had always woken up at the same time for the past four years. It was to sharpen his skills he told himself, but deep down, Sam knew it was because of the ghosts of all the people he'd killed that haunted him and prevented him from getting a good night's sleep.

His uncle already had someone hack into the school's system so that he was in all the same classes as his target. It's funny how they were able to hack into a random school's computer system but couldn't find out the target's last name. Maybe his uncle did know his target's last name and just didn't want to tell him, but Sam wasn't going to ponder the possible reasons why, so he dismissed it and focused on his mission.

Everything was set. A cover story was secured and as far as he was concerned, he was just another regular student. Mick Grayson.

One of his many aliases but one that he never liked. Mick? He thought to himself. What kind of name is that? The best part of being an assassin was when he got to use his favourite toy. The gun that always helped him in times of trouble—his Beretta 92. One of his most valued possessions. He was so attached to the gun that if the gun were human, he'd marry it.

After preparing himself for school, he headed off to the place he secretly hoped could give him even the slightest taste of a normalcy. Sam knew that hope was a dangerous thing, so he extirpated the thought. Normal wasn't meant for people like him. It was something he used to crave. But now it was nothing but a foreign concept. He hadn't normal for the past four years of his life. Why would that change now?

There was only one thing that made sense to be his 'normal':

To kill or not to kill?

Scratch that—to definitely kill.