Nightime. The city is quiet; only the rumble of a few passing cars break the silence. Major stores are closed for the night, opening up business opportunities for strip joints and late night pharmacies. The normal everyday man is asleep as the seedy and dirty come out to play. Various neon signs light up what regular street lights can't.
It starts to rain. Light showers at first, then it gradually starts to pour. A man exits a strip club with a disgraced look on his face. Judging by his black Armani suit, he's a business man and a high roller. He looks at his equally expensive watch and puts on a black trenchcoat. Flipping his collar up, he finishes what's left of his beer. He takes in a deep sigh, and as he steps forward...BLAM! A bullet enters the left side of his head and exits through the other side.
The man falls to his knees, then onto his stomach. Lying face down on the street, a big puddle of blood begins to surround his head and mixes with rain water collected from the gutter. Fifty yards away, smoke comes out of the barrel of a sniper rifle. The rifle bows down as a head with red hair tied in a ponytail peeks up from underneath a black raincoat. The raincoat gets taken off to reveal a teenage girl, preferably 19 years old. The girl is leather clad; wearing a black leather jacket with a black leather tank top underneath, black skinny jeans, and black leather boots. She takes out a pair of military binoculars and looks through them to confirm her kill. Her red lipstick lips form a smile as she sees a stripper screaming in horror as she exits the club and sees the Armani suited man laying dead on the pavement. Another man on the roof with her, tall, possibly in his late forties, donning a black hoodie underneath a dindgy, faded military jacket with almost the same identical black jeans and boots as the red headed girl, chuckles to himself.
"Why is it that these business types always go to the same strip clubs," he wonders out loud. His voice coarse, with the same tone as Bruce Willis. He puts his hoodie up, holds an umbrella over the girl, and leans over the side of the building him and the girl are postioned at.
"I don't know and I don't care," the red head says back. Her voice is soft, seductive. She starts to disassemble her sniper rifle as the bald man picks up the binoculars beside her. He fiddles with the focus as he looks at the same scene of carnage.
"I thought we'd agree to get him in the parking lot," he asks the girl, "right when he was about to get into his Audi R8 Spyder." He then pauses and shifts his focus to the car, "Son of a bitch doesn't deserve that kind of car. It really is beautiful."
The girl shrugs, "We also agreed to shoot him in the chest, directly in his heart. Just like the contract instructed to do." She puts away what's left of her rifle back into it's case. "Hand me my backpack, will ya?"
The bald man hands her a red jansport backpack. The redhead then opens the bag and takes out a purple hoodie. She then takes off her black leather gloves and leather jacket and stuffs them into her bag. Then she grabs the umbrella from the bald man.
The bald man puts a cigarette in his mouth and takes out his biohazard zippo lighter to light it up. The flame illuminates his blue eyes that hide under his hood. "You talk like you've been in this game for a long time. But it's only been like what, five or six months?"
The girl zips up her purple hoodie and flips the hood up. She then takes off her boots and changes into some old, worn out gray hi-top converse as the bald man holds the unbrella over her. The redhead then puts on the red backpack and takes the umbrella back from the bald man, who opens up the rifle case, tosses in the military binoculars, and closes it back up again.
"Don't you have spanish test on Monday," the bald man asks taking another puff from his cigarette.
"Yeah, but it's Saturday," the girl answers back, "I'll just study on Sunday. And didn't I tell you not to invade my personal life? I know they assigned me to you, and I am grateful for that, but my life is my life and I mean this with no disrespect what so ever, you're not my dad."
The bald man and the redhead proceed to the side of the roof facing the back alley. There, they find stairs that lead to the street. As they head down to the alley, the bald man continues their conversation.
"Okay, I'm sorry for butting into you teenage life," the man apologized. "But you know, I was like you once."
The girl paused for a second. "Wait, so you were once living the life of a 19 year old girl who lives a normal, teenage life by day and by night performs high profile assassinations for an organization that she doesn't really know a lot about and is under the constant supervision of a seasoned, veteran assassin that acts as both her gardian and her teacher..?"
The man looked at her blankly. "Your sarcasm scares me."
The girl smiled and checked her cellphone for any text messages. "Did you get the case?"
The bald man nods.
"Okay," she continued. "I have to get home before my dad does."
"Say hi to your old man for me, will ya kiddo," the bald man jokingly asks.
The girl smiled. "Yeah and blow both our covers and our asses."
"Hey, it would just blow my cover, remember. I'd protect you no matter what." The bald man then went up to a car cover and took it off, only to reveal two motorcycles underneath. One was dark blue, the other dark red.
The girl got on the red one and put on her helmet. The bald man secured the rifle case on the bitch seat of the blue bike, got on, and then put on his helmet.
"Remember the procedure, right? I got proof that says you were at your friend Alice's house studying, just in case."
"And that is why you are awesome."
The two then share a fist bump and part ways. The roar of their motorcycles ripping through the silent night.
Created: Jul 27, 2010Document Media