The return of Odysseus

The engine's roar became a purr as she changed down a gear and edged the car over to the exit she needed.  The sun had reached the middle of the sky now and was a burning dot reflected in the lenses of her sunglasses.  She stared dead ahead, her face immobile and her emotions hidden behind the Ray-Bans, her movements economical and smooth as she drew the car into the turn of the slip-road, and dropped its speed down to the limit.

Anytime they ready punahussy start war

She pulled in to the valet parking at the Ithaca hotel and got out of the car.  Two valets, both still boys, stood still in their red and purple uniforms, staring.  She shook her long blonde hair so that it cascaded over the collar and down the back of her black, tight-fitting leather jacket and stretched.  The jacket pulled up slightly, coming up taut across her chest, and she relaxed.  She was 5'10 and her jeans fit her as well as the jacket; they were snug, emphasized her figure, and tucked into brown cowboy boots.

She walked round the car and pulled a sports bag from the back seat.  She made it look like the bag weighed almost nothing; hidden under the leather jacket muscles moved smoothly under tanned skin and hoisted nearly 30kg one-handed.  She was sure that the valets would have loved to have seen her in her sleeveless gym-shirt flexing her biceps.

Mess around and see who get it spread on th' tar

'Park him,' she said to the older looking of the valets, who was probably no more than 19 still.  She threw him the keys, which struck his chest and fell to the floor.  He looked shocked, then blushed crimson to match his uniform, and scrabbled after them.

'I've got to wash these sports bras,' she said to the other valet, and took a secret pleasure in seeing him flush as crimson as his colleague.  Then she was gone, crossing the street and disappearing amongst the crowd.

Ten minutes later, she'd walked into an apartment block and let the concierge talk to her chest while he tried to tell her that the building was private for the residents.  He was so distracted by the way her jacket rhythmically stretched and glid with her breathing that he never saw the roundhouse kick that knocked him unconscious as well as half-way across the lobby.  She took the lift to the top floor, and then the emergency stairs to the roof.

On the roof, she opened the sports bag and pulled out the components of a sniper rifle, the AI Arctic Warfare and expertly assembled it.  Checking the sight, she walked to the edge of the building with a steady pace, and set up on the low parapet that ran round the edge.  Peering through the sight again, she moved the rifle until she found her target.

The cross-hairs of the sight were centred on the man's temple.

My style is the bom-diddi-bom di-dang di-dang diggi-diggi

'This one's for you, Odysseus,' she whispered, and pulled the trigger.

The End

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