The empty building felt like her empty soul, reminding her that something was missing in her life. Her body was like the empty building with a lot of space to be filled. Being as an empty shell and emotionless being wasn't easy. Walking toward the glass sliding doors leading outside to a balcony and opening the doors, a gust of cool wind blew against her body. Feeling a sense of calm as always when doing her job, she settled on her knees in front of a painter's toolbox.
She pulled out black pieces of metal, assembling it into a 50 calibre sniper rifle. Setting the weapon on a tri-pod, she settled down on the floor in the leopard crawl position on the balcony. Looking through the scope she adjusted the sight settings to the distance of her target and the wind tempo. Taking deep breaths in and releasing them, she slowed down her breathing and pulled the trigger as her target sat down at the conference table.
A successful business man, Andre Vivier, was in a conference room in his skyscraper on the eighteenth floor with his company's lawyers and board members. The man looked angry and disappointed pointing at an empty seat next to his chair screaming and shouting. Suddenly Andre collapsed forward over the table. Blood spattered over the table and some of the members. Some members stormed out the room screaming while a few stayed looking in horror at the lifeless bloody body as another called the police and an ambulance. All knew that he was definitely dead judging by the massive whole in the back of his head.
The second after pulling the trigger; the killer was on her feet packing up as quickly as she could. Grabbing the toolbox, she headed out the door and down the stairs to a painters company van unnoticed. She left the vehicle a few blocks away from the scene in an alley after stripping from the painters overalls and set it a light. Once in her own vehicle, she returned to her hotel. In the safety of her hotel room, she logged onto her laptop engaging her self made message encryption program to confirm her delivery.
SpanishKitty:
-The package is delivered.
Papa Bear:
-Payment will be made shortly.
-Can you make another delivery?
SpanishKitty:
-Yes I can.
Papa Bear:
-Can I leave the information at the same place as the last?
SpanishKitty:
-No.
-Leave it at the F1 Hotel's front desk for a Mrs Maggie Li.
Papa Bear:
-No problem.
She never met her clients face to face. She always used false names when booking into hotels and disguises helped a lot to hide her true identity. 'Why would a client want to take out two people? This was starting to look dodgy. She needed to find out who this client was.' The woman thought to herself, picking up the phone.
"Yes this is Mrs Maggie Li from room 102. I would like to order room service please. A BLT served with chicken salad and a glass of dry red wine. I am also expecting a package from someone, if you could please deliver everything together. Thank you." She put the phone down grabbing her laptop from across the small dinning table.
She checked her bank records online. True to the client's word, he paid what they had agreed upon. Logging off of the laptop she switched the television onto the news. Her handy work from today was all over the news. The hit was indeed a confirmed kill. The woman's train of thought travelled back to how she had started out as a professional killer for an unknown organisation. They found her on the streets at the age of fifteen and trained her to be a fearless and heartless assassin. It was a horrible job but it paid very well. Five years earlier after fifteen years of service, the organisation put a hit out on her. She took out the whole organisation on her own. Now she worked freelance for people who could afford her.
"Good evening, room service!" A man called from the other side of the door after knocking. Grabbing her silenced nine millimetre pistol, the woman headed for the door. She looked through the peep-hole hiding the pistol behind her back in her waist band. She opened the door stepping aside to let the guy in with the trolley. He pushed it inside and left after getting a tip.
The woman found a manila envelope on a plate underneath a stainless steal lid on the trolley. Grabbing her laptop, she strolled over to the bed settling against the headboard. Opening the envelope, she pulled out a photo and a sheet of paper with information of the target on it. On the top of the sheet of paper was a hand written note; 'make it look like an accident'.
She sat there staring at the photograph of a woman with long thick curly red hair, hazel eyes and lightly freckled fair skin. According to the information on the paper; the woman was born in America after her parent's relocated here from Ireland in the early eighties. Her name was Jessica Bailey; she got married a year ago but kept her maiden name. She was a psychologist at a private clinic. The woman was twenty five years of age and was born on the sixth of April.
'Who would this man want to kill a psychologist? No mention of kids either. She is beautiful though.' The killer thought to herself. Among the killer's many skills were hacking computers and programs.