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“I’m his cousin, remember.”
I shook my head. “No.”
“Why not?”
“A big part of this is getting out alive. Trying to kill the most heavily guarded man during an event when they’re preparing for trouble – the odds are terrible.”
“They do it in the movies,” the younger guy sneered.
“This isn’t the fucking movies,” I snapped.
The younger guy fixed me with a hateful stare but said nothing back.
“What about infiltrating the house?” my host suggested.
I pointed at the map. “See all this open area around the mansion? That’s a kill zone. They’ll see me coming a mile away, and I’ll be a sitting duck. Infiltration is the last thing I want to do – which leaves a sniper shot.”
“Then assume you’ll need to make the shot through a window.”
“Is the glass bulletproof?”
“I’ve heard some chatter about it being replaced recently. You should assume it is.”
“Any idea what level of protection it is?”
“Assume the very highest.”
“So what you’re telling me is, assume the worst in all situations.”
The older man smiled wryly. “More or less.”
Great.
“So… can it be done?” he asked.
I looked down at the map.
I’d gone into worse situations than this before, killed my target, and come out alive.
“…yes,” I replied. “It can be done.”
“Wonderful!”
“There are no guarantees, though,” I cautioned. “There’s a high likelihood something will go wrong.”
“Understood.”
“Alright. We – ”
“One more thing,” the client interrupted.
“What?”
“There’s one other tiny little fly in the ointment.”
“Which is…?”
“Our time window is limited, so I’ll need you to be ready at a moment’s notice.”
