Night Glaze:

Chapter One: First assignment

Running. That's all I seem to do these days is run. Forever chasing a target that is always just out of my reach. I can't explain this feeling that I get, nor can I tell you how it came to pass. My name is Michael Rivers, well to be truthful I couldn't tell you my true last night. Hell I don't even know it, let alone give it away to some one. But then again I suppose that's the safest part of my life, my name. Without one no one can track me, or find out what I hold dearest to me. Not that I have anything to give that title too, my work cut anything about that short straight from the gates. I'm an assassin, how I became one or my training up to the point of this horrific and honorable title I don't remember. For the past two years I've been running blind you can say, picking up targets wherever I can land a hit.

I'm on assignment now as a matter of fact. The contact is a thirty-eight year old Caucasian male, two hundred and thirteen pounds, a smoker, blonde hair and blues eyes and a governor to boot. You know the kind of guy most people hate in an election but as the money and cheesy smile to win at the last second. Normally I don't take these kind of targets, but something about this mission pulled at me I guess you can say. And following these pulls is all that's been keeping me alive these days.

"Come on father! You have to do better then that!" A voice called out in the clearing ahead of me as well as the sounds of soft thuds and yelps of glee. Its late December in the New England woodlands and the surrounding snow is slightly moist and compactable perfect styling for a snowball fight. The target is outside, this makes it a lot less sticky to deal with. I can see my breath coming out in short puffs in the chilled climate, the only sign of my presence and with the slightly flurry of snow coming down even that's barely visible. I come just short of the clearing, and aim my Bush mark. So far this is the only weapon I carry, it's a sturdy weapon and serves me well enough.

"Come on William, can't you take it easy on your old man." The target barked out as he unleashed another snowball at the lanky looking teenager. The son isn't my target, but if he gets in the way of my shot, he'll be dealt with just as easy. A woman dips her head up from behind a snow mound, and launches a snowball with cutting accuracy at the boy and downs him. Not a bad shot for a thirty six year old woman of two kids. The daughter is out and about too, teaming up with the father mother to take down the males not really fair seeing how they were having their own war. But that's not my problem, I only have one thing to take care of and that's the old man. There was no working phone in the old Victorian house behind the family, it was a newly brought residence and wasn't properly furnished so the only means of getting help was the nearest neighbor that was exactly two point five miles away. Not the smartest idea a person could have, but I guess he wanted that kind of escape from the modern world. Shaking my head clear of the unneeded d thoughts I point at the target, he is ducking behind the minivan trying to hide from the onslaught of his family the perfect shot. Closing one eye to get rid of the second vision I ease back on the trigger.

There's a sound to my right and it draws my attention from the target. Snapping my gun in that direction I hold my breath to see if anyone as spotted me or is coming up from behind. Fear floods my mind as I wait for another movement, with narrowed hawk eyes. Its now or never I guess, as I turn back around and lock my target again I guess I only have one shot at this. Without a second thought I squeeze the trigger in two rapid shots.

Hey there

This is my first orginal story work. This is part of a sister story done by a friend of mine in another perspective. So if you are reading this make sure to read Night Gloss by Zander Williams (502054)