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The Story:
He liked taking the stairs to a job. Elevators would dutifully thrust him to his location, but their haste was insensitive. The stairs allowed him to contemplate, to feel the weight of his task.
Each step made him want to stop, but he never did. He assumed that the day he refused to climb another step would be the day he retired.
At the 38th floor, he exited the stairwell, entering an abandoned floor of the building. From the echo of the stairwell to the quiet of the abandoned floor was like going from a concert hall to a funeral home. It was appropriate.
At the south side windows, he set a metal case on the ground and began working.
Several pieces were snapped together to complete the assembly. Putting what he considered to be his closest friend up to his shoulder, he looked through the massive scope and surveyed an oblivious populous.
In the building to his left, a woman was pacing in an office, dictating to a secretary who was feverishly typing. In another office a man was doing something entirely different with his secretary.
In the building to his right, an older man was walking on a treadmill. On a balcony two floors up from him, a woman was reading a book.
None of the people he saw knew what was pointed at them, and they never would. Anyone who saw him would be viewing his or her final scene.
The two buildings formed a narrow gap between them, and far beyond them was a distant building containing his target. He was one of only four men in the world capable of this shot.
He checked his assignment again: 12th floor, 5th window from left.
He scanned the building to the correct window. The small circle of visibility came to a rest on another sniper rifle with a man behind it. His skin prickled, and he gripped his friend tighter. His cell phone rang, and he used his left hand to answer.
“What?”
“Only four of us, they say. This is a fair warning to you, out of respect. I aim to be the only one. Good luck.”
He saw a muzzle flash, and a bullet pierced the window, grazing his arm. He flinched and looked at his arm. When he looked back through his scope, the man was gone.