He looked at her knowing full well that he shouldn't. It was forbidden for so many reasons; their past, her standing in society, his future, the lives of those around them. His eyes tried desperately to catch hers. They flirted with her cheeks, her mouth, and returned quickly to her eyes. At that moment in time, there was nothing more he wanted but for her to see him… again.
The procession made its way through the filthy downtown street. Flanked by gunmen of various size, strength, and scars, the collection of VIP's walked cautiously towards the hotel. Any pedestrian ignorant enough to approach was met with a violent suggestion to redirect their path. The child beggars, the Untouchables, were thrown to the ground even before they could meekly offer their handcrafted goods.
A gunman smashed a child's glass flower under his foot. A single act of brutality that destroyed a two credit trinket, but also crushed the spirit of a child. In the shadows, the angst grew. You could smell it.
She looked into the crowd. She felt him. Their eyes met for a brief second, during which she blinked. A blink that represented a greeting, a touch, a discussion, intimacy, and familiarity; inspirations. It had been many years since they last shared any moment, but their memories were as fresh as the rain that now poured on them both.
He smiled. No one could have seen it under the scarf that shrouded his face. His eyes told a million tales. Another tale was to be written within the following seconds. Twenty other pairs of eyes glanced at him from the crowd. They waited for the sign. A simple gesture that would unlock and open up the buckling gates of a decade of suffering.
The rain permeated clothing and now began to creep onto the cold steel that was hidden underneath the urban urchins' rags. The combination of water and steel provided a very distinct smell in the air. A smell that the gunmen should have recognized from the Kanton years. They failed to notice the scent and it was to be their undoing.
"Please don't," she thought to him. "There are children here. It won't turn out the way you wish it to be." She called to him without uttering a sound, hoping that he would hear her; that he would reconsider. She begged him not to bring Hell down on that street.
"I love you. I miss you. Please don't."
His blood was speeding through his veins as he focused on his target.
"Silus, you've got the three on the left," he whispered. Silus chirped his understanding. "Gold, you guys have the doormen. Be quick." A tone was heard in his ear piece acknowledging the command. "I've got their lead. Everyone else, put it on them as soon as I shoot."
The group of VIP's began to ascend the stairs to the hotel slowly as the rain forced itself upon the thoroughfare. He aimed just above her left ear, a path that would take his round to the back of her "caretaker's" ear.
He thought, "Forgive me. If there's anything I could ask for from you, from now until the moment I expire, is that you forgive what I'm going to do. If you were to never love me again… just tell me this is okay."
"I love you. I miss you. Please don't."
He took in a breath and held it. Exhale. The routine had begun as he took a second breath and held it. Breath control is key to a sharpshooter's accuracy… inhale… hold… fire. His heart rate was slowing and he was in the final throws of assassin's euphoria as he applied pressure to his weapon's grip at his side. He began to raise the weapon slowly as not to alert the gunmen or those around him.
The rifle's muzzle slowly rose from his ankles. He was ready. View to a kill. The rifle continued it's ascent when it's progression suddenly stopped. An Untouchable, a toddler, had managed an iron grip on the muzzle with her free hand; her other hand firmly in the loving hand of her mother.
The rifle was made useless.
"Flower. Flower," she repeated.
No comments:
Post a Comment