That's All It Takes


St. Petersburg, Russia:

The asset was in place. On the tower, opposite Stalin's Square, facing the East. He had a clear view of the bridge on the canal.

His instructions had been clear. Leave no mark of a murder. Make it clean, make it simple. 

The target had been marked by a spotter on the opposite side of the canal. There was another sniper adjacent to the spotter, just incase the target changed course. This target, in a white car, reached the junction, paused for a moment and then took the bridge.

Ok, so it's gona be me then, thought the sniper as he loaded his .45 Zlasknikoff and took his position.

Just as the car reached the centre, the shot was taken, with clear precision, not a moment of hesitation, and one shot was all it took, for the car leaped out of control, rolled over the bridge and fell into the ice cold water below.

He quickly put the gun back in the case, took one last look at the target and disappeared as though he was never there.


The End

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