Over My Dead Body

I slowly turned the knob on my scope, focusing the red crosshair into the middle of my sight. I slowly rotated my sniper rifle, scanning the five-star restaurant fifteen hundred meters away. My breathing steadied as I laid my eyes upon my target. Francesco De Luca, and he was aligned perfectly within my sight. He was an unpleasant-looking man, to say the least. Overweight, silver hair, the kind of smile that makes your skin crawl. No surprise he was surrounded by escorts half his age. But what else can you expect from a De Luca?

Now the question of the day: Headshot? Or heart shot?

That was always my biggest dilemma during my missions. I contemplated my options as I tapped my finger against the trigger lightly while pursing my lips. I waited for a few moments before I sighed and settled for the head. I held my breath to focus the shot, and quickly pulled the trigger.

His head practically exploded, sending blood flying all over the women he was with as his lifeless body plopped to the floor. His security detail rushed over to him, frantically trying to grasp what just happened as a chorus of screams filled the air.

"Gotcha." I chuckled as my lips curved into a grin.

I grabbed my sniper rifle, my trusty McMillan Tac-50, and quickly began to pack it up. I dismantled my weapon in record time and dusted myself off before reaching into my pants pocket, pulling out a pack of cigarettes. I hit the bottom of the box three times, before opening it and sliding one out. I lifted it to my mouth as I hummed Fly Me to The Moon by Frank Sinatra. A fucking classic. I slid the box back into my pocket, grabbed my rifle, and made my way downstairs.

The vantage point I picked was an abandoned warehouse about a mile away from the restaurant. Still humming, I quickly descended 5 flights of stairs while I puffed on my cigarette. Sirens screamed in the distance, and I smiled knowing that they were cleaning up the mess I made.

The vibrations of my phone snapped me back to reality. Biting my cigarette, I dug through my bag trying to find that annoying device.

"What?" I mumbled, still holding the cigarette between my teeth.

"Is he taken care of?" The cold voice asked.

"Yup." I stated, popping the p obnoxiously. I knew how much he hated that.

"Good job. We'll see you at the safehouse." My father spoke out quickly.

"Alright, see you soon." I stated before I hung up.

*ACE DE LUCA POV*

I would have killed her right then and there, but as my father always preached, "timing is everything." And with what seemed to be half of New York's police department outside, timing wasn't on my side.

I quickly walked towards the side of the building back to the small door I originally entered from. I slowly opened the door before I walked out and around the side of the building. I pressed my back against the warehouse's wall before I peeked my head out to evaluate the situation. I watched as the cops slammed an all-black battering ram through the north door, nearly shattering it before storming into the warehouse.