Winter Hunt II

It's been a while since the last post. Hopefully you guys haven't forgotten what happens in the Winter Hunt. Go back and have a read. The second instalment takes us back in time to our hit-woman's past. Hopefully shedding some light on how she ended up trying to kill someone she believed to be dead. On a side note - thank you to everyone who's back to read another story. I appreciate all the support and I just love writing so thanks again. I hope you guys enjoy it.

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December 2017

As the gun mimicked her arm slacken, her mind wandered back to a life she thought she had forgotten. A happier time.

September 2010

She sat perched on a rooftop scoping the area through her binoculars. Her long auburn hair tied up to not get in the way. Her partner lay on his front beside her, peering through his sniper rifle trying to get comfortable. She continued to scout the area as he shifted uncomfortably finding the perfect position to take the shot. Their preparation was finally complete. It had been completed a month ago, but they spent the last uneventful month accounting for any unexpected scenarios. Their reputation preceded them but that also meant the job was expected to go off without a hitch. Her partner sat up and began his routine to slow his heart rate. Starting with deep, regular breaths followed by meditation. The shot to be taken was a difficult one but he was more than capable.

It was cold, but the breeze was steady so wrapping up warm had been enough. Christmas was soon approaching, but the weather hadn’t quite turned bitter yet. The pair of assassins remained quiet and focused. Despite working together on all their jobs since they had started, both had their own ways of preparing for a hit. These small preparations were unique to them and both knew not to interrupt the other whilst they were happening. As he meditated beside her, she identified a potential issue but waited for him to finish his routine. As soon as he finished, she blurted with impatience, “Scenario four”. Her partner cracked a smile, “How long you been waiting to say that red?”, sarcastic as ever. She hated when he called her that. “Scenario four, c’mon”, she repeated dismissing the snide remark.

“Wait, four?”, he questioned. It had been a surprise for her too.

“I know, it’s unexpected, but we prepared for this”, she said with confidence. Her partner turned to her as she kept the binoculars over her eyes. A glint of admiration appeared in his eye before he positioned himself back in front of his sniper rifle. She never questioned their ability. It always filled him with confidence, but he never mentioned it to her. He fidgeted back in front of the scope once again. The target would be there soon. Scenario four meant there was a possible security detail which also meant that once the kill had been confirmed, there would be an immediate attempt to find and capture them since there was a small chance the police may also be involved.

A picture of the target rested beside his gun. Couldn’t risk a case of mistaken identity right at the end. It was strange that the customer had not informed them of this, but they were more thorough than they had been paid for. It was why they were considered so reliable, which of course resulted in a much higher salary. However, they did have one policy which often angered their customers. Once the target arrived at the location, they expected the money to be in their bank account. Once they received confirmation of this, only then would they complete the job.

This job was no different. ‘Red’ double checked their escape route. Their vehicle was standing by. Her partner checked his gun for the tenth time. Locked and loaded, ready to fire. His index and middle finger rested upon his neck to check his heart rate. Nice and low. He was relaxed and ready. ‘Red’ returned from inside the building back to the roof. It was clear and no-one was in a significant radius of them. The chance of any civilian suffering as collateral was minimalistic. The location was good. The customer had chosen well.

They kept their eyes on the door of the bank. He was about to leave soon. Her partner kept his aim on the door. ‘Red’ had her phone out waiting for the money to enter their account. He flexed his finger over the trigger. The glass revolving door rotated revealing two men in suits. They scanned their surroundings and deemed it safe for their detail to exit the building. A smile creeped onto her partner’s face as his shoulders tensed ready to take the shot. He turned to ‘Red’ waiting for the go. She stared intently into her phone screen waiting for the number to increase by seven figures. It was strange that the money had not arrived. They had had many last-minute transactions but even this was cutting it close. Surprisingly, this was the worst part of the job. Waiting. Most of their victims were criminals which helped clear their consciences of murder.

They had a small window to complete the hit. The coach was about to pull up. There was a large group of tourists who would flood the square soon. He had to take the shot in the next 30 second window. The crowd was to be their centrepiece for distraction as the sounds of gunfire would ring through the air. However, if they waited too long, the target would get lost in the crowd and they would lose their chance.

His surroundings blurred out of focus. Sounds, smells, the cold, all became distant. All he waited for now was the all clear to take the shot. Out of all the work and preparation, this was always the most difficult part but also his favourite. He felt at peace, away from the world. There was no emotion behind his finger squeezing the trigger. An unbiased action. He heard his partner say ‘take the shot’ somewhere in his peripheral. The gunshot always stunned him out of his trance quite abruptly; reality flooding his senses once again. ‘Red’ was already waiting at the doorway to exit the roof.

“C’mon, let’s go”, she said impatiently to him. The hit was over, they’d been paid, she wanted to get out of town.

“Hold on, just confirming kill”, he replied still peering through his scope for a second.

“We both know he’s dead, you got him, c’mon. We don’t have a lot of time”, she became stern very quickly. Their escapes had always been clean and efficient. It bothered her greatly that they were still on that rooftop. Her partner reluctantly dismantled the gun and they began their escape route.

Despite winter’s grip threatening to take hold, the sun glimmered in the skylight and the drive away from the city had turned quite pleasant. Neither had said much since they hit the road and while ‘red’ enjoyed the quiet for once, it put her on edge. She had to break the silence. “What?”, she questioned him.

He looked surprised, “I didn’t say anything?”

“I know. That’s the problem. No sarcastic remark, no snide comments about my hair. "

"What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, something? I don’t know…”

“You’re just being paranoid. It was a great shot you took; the escape went perfect. The suns out, relax”. He agreed with her. There was no need to feel so anxious. He stared out into the fields surrounding the highway they drove down. It was a beautiful day worth enjoying. He pushed the nagging concerns to the back of his mind. Everything had gone just the way they planned.

Epilogue I - November 2010

3 months after the hit

She grabbed the sniper to get a view of him. She steadied her trembling hands. They had him. She kept the cross hairs focused on him. A tear rolled down her face. She steadied herself again. We were supposed to meet here. How could you not make it? The voice in her head angry but unsure who it was directed at, him or herself. They had a pact she had to stand by. He saw her look towards her direction and wink with the same stupid smile on his face. Even in the face of death he held a smile on his face. She wiped the singular tear from her face, prepared herself. The crosshairs hovering over him still. Within the next ten seconds, the bullet pierced her partner’s chest and there was no trace left on the rooftop that she had ever been there.

Epilogue II - December 2017

Fast forward back to the present

Her memories caught up with her like a freight train. The pistol trembled in her hands just as the sniper rifle had on the rooftop. “It can’t be”, she gasped.

“Just do it!”, he shouted defiantly. The pistol by her side, no longer pointed at him. This must have been a set-up. She was not going to kill him. She could not do it again. “Who are you? Why are you doing this?” he continued to yell. His speech never registering in her mind. Someone had engineered this moment anticipating that she would kill him. She knew it wasn’t supposed to end well for either of them. They both had to disappear.