Remaining still for hours on end had been an onerous task initially, but months of vigorous training had made it almost a habit now; agents had to be deadly, efficient and still enough to blend into their background.
“ETA two minutes. Same method and mode of engagement,” the voice in his ear green-lighting the mission.
Instinct drew the target away from his bulletproof car as his mistress was shot, only to end up with a bullet to his brain from a helmet clad assassin standing in a field of orange blossoms.
Written for Sonya’s Three Line Tales #238.
© 2020, Cozy Quiet Corner.