These screens added a little peace of mind to the team, knowing that they were now protected from detection directly in front of them, the location they knew the sentries to be in, the mercenaries now pulled automatic weapons up from the slings they wore on their shoulders, as the remaining assassin in the center of the five man grouping continued to swiftly and silently assemble his silenced sniper rifle, the man’s hands moving with cold, dead precision. This was what the man had eaten, slept, and breathed for the past thirteen months. This was the moment every single practice had led up to. As the sniper focused his right eye through the infrared scope atop the deadly long distance firearm, he thought of all of the scenarios they had run through, accounting for every possibility. Out of the 1374 practice runs they had finished, the kill percentage was a reassuring 96%. As the scope focused in on the forehead of the American President, the sniper smiled. The center of the scope was directly over the President’s head, directly over the most important target in the entire world. All it would take is one twitch, one little movement and the President of the United States would go the way of so many others before him. The sniper grinned and barred his teeth.