Death WarrantMature


I rested calmly on the hotel rooftop as the sun scalded my skin. 5 hours, I had lay watching through my rifle's scope. Whoever said being an assassin was easy could bite a bullet. I sighed adjusting my scope for increasing windage. Ghost was resting atop a Minaret. He had been there for three hours just staring through a pair of binoculars. The building he was watching was Fishner's 'safe house'. I chuckled at the idea, no place in this world was truly safe. Children hurried through the streets as life continued on. Donkeys with carts pushed through throngs of people while merchants shouted to passers-by. Finally the Theatre's doors opened allowing a large group of men to step forth. Six men surrounded Fishner, all of them checking their corners and watching the rooftops.  

"If your taking your shot from there, you'd better have good aim." I breathed, scanning the streets as Fishner and his goons started away. Shifting my gaze back to Ghost, I watched as he left his high ground and disappeared into an alleyway. Be smart Ghost, Fishner turned in the assassin's direction and his guards opened fire.

"Shit," I quickly stood removing my rifle's scope and jumped over the rooftop guard, landing on the fire escape. I slid down the rusted metal landing on the streets. Gunfire echoed louder, increasing in tempo. Way to fuck up Ghost, now I have two people to kill. Oh well more money for me. Sprinting through alleyways and streets I headed towards the conflict. Women and children were running through the streets screaming, while the men and boys grabbed their AK's. 

"MOVE," I shouted in Russian  pushing through the shifting crowd. Finally the throngs of people parted and allowed me to see ahead. Four guards collapsed in a spray of blood as Ghost landed on the ground and dove into a house. He was hot on Fishner's tail. Instead of following directly after them I hurried up a nearby staircase and onto the buildings roof. The steady bark of AK fire slinging bullets past my head. A flash of movement caught my eye, causing me to slid against the roof's cover. Glancing over I watched Fishner jump through the buildings window and into the streets. He was sweating heavily and high on adrenaline. 

"My children, shoot everyone behind me! Soldiers, help me!" Groups of children sprung from their chairs brandishing rifles. I raised my rifle as a smoke grenade smashed into the stall. In a sharp BANG, a white cloud obstructed my view. A body moved through the smoke and paused, it was Ghost. 

"Got you now, you clumsy fucker." I raised my rifle and took aim. Pulling the trigger, I loosed several rounds into the fleeing group that surrounded Ghost. Heads exploded, blood splattered, and bodies slumped yet none of the bullets made their way through my target. He quickly took off forcing me to move from roof to roof, dogging his every move. In a sudden move, he shifted left into an alley. Way to corner yourself like a rat. Jumping to an adjacent rooftop, I watched as Ghost cornered Fishner in the dead end alleyway. He slowly approached as Fishner tried in vain to climb his way out. With machine like efficiency, Ghost shot a single round into the man's throat. Blood sprayed against the wall as the body collapsed. Another man entered the alley, silently. Before Ghost could even turn around he caught a quick rifle butt in his face. I relaxed slightly, smiling as a small group of Somali's dragged Ghost's unconscious body away. With all witnesses gone, I dropped down into the alley to examine Fishner's body. 

My smile grew wider as I checked the body over. This man wasn't Fishner, there was no scar and his eye color was wrong. Ghost had seriously fucked up and now Fishner would be onto him. This changed the situation entirely, I slung my rifle and headed back to the hotel. Thomas would not be pleased. 


"HE WHAT?!" It took all my composure to hold back my laughter as Thomas exploded over the phone. I leaned against the hotel's wall as a fan blew humid air around me. 

"As I said Thomas, he took off after Fishner, basically lighting up the streets with gunfire. I pursued the chase over the entire market district. When Ghost finally eliminated Fishner he got clocked and taken by a group of Somali's. When I checked the body, I discovered it was just a decoy. The man Ghost killed was not Fishner. Meaning he royally fucked up." The other end of the line was silent for a moment before Thomas replied. His voice was strained and full of anger. 

"I'll get in touch with the higher ups and gain clearance for a sterilization op. If it clears, your mission is as I previously briefed you. Take out both Fishner and Ghost. I'll give you a call when it all clears, Got it Reaper?"

"Thank you, Thomas." I said with a hint of sarcasm. "Oh and Thomas," I said before the NATO rep hung up. "I told you so." The line went dead, I laughed to myself. This whole op had been screwed from it's outset. If only they had hired a real assassin. Looking to my phone I dialed up the CIA spook. The line rung once...twice...and a third time before he picked up. 

"Roberts," the voice said dully. 

"This is Reaper, I need some information." As I spoke I walked to the hotel doors threshold. Some papers rustled and a few hushed voices clattered before Roberts came back on the line. 

"Go Ahead." 

"I need the location of all local prisons near the market district." I demanded, staring outside.

"Alright, we'll send them to your phone. Reaper, there's something you may want to know. One of our contacts at the airport says that a female American reporter landed not too long ago. That mean anything to you?" I snarled kicking the wall hard, why the hell is she here? 

"Did your contact tail her?" I demanded my voice growing louder, some Russian words bleeding through my English. 

"He did, she stopped at a..." he paused "...the local Sheytan prison. Is she working for you?" 

"No." I replied sharply, ending the call. Turning to the receptionist I laid some money on the counter. Her eyes widened at the large sum. 

"Sheytan prison, where?" I growled. 


It took me an hour to move to the Sheytan prison on the opposite side of the market district. As I stepped inside  I wrapped the Keffiyeh around my face. Three guards sat around a small table, lazily playing cards. One looked up and narrowed his eyes at me. 

"What do you want?" he shouted, angered at my appearance.

"Where's the American girl?" I barked back. One of the men pointed his thumb towards the back. I rested my hand on my rifle as I made my way through the primitive prison and towards the cells. Ghost was going to die in this shit hole along with his reporter friend. Then all I'd have to do is take care of Fishner. Screw Thomas, I'll deal with this anyway. Ghost is a disgrace to assassin's around the world. He deserved a bullet to the head. There was no escape for the American's!   

The End

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