1
MAN DOWN
SYDNEY
Sydney Austin loved spending time in Italy, but she wasn’t there to take in its rich history or appreciate an authentic Italian meal. She was there on business, so she stayed focused on her mark as he drove out of Bergamo. To her surprise, he was alone. No security team, no chauffeur driving him to his next—and final—destination.
Just after midnight, and the city was bustling with people. That worked in her favor. She’d spent the evening blending into the crowded bars and outdoor cafes but, as her target drove north, the traffic thinned, the noise quieted.
He turned off the main road, wove his way around the peaceful street, then motored into an upscale neighborhood. Though the chilly October air kept her cool, her fingers were overheating inside her black, leather gloves. If that was her biggest problem, she had nothing to complain about.
The lone male parked on the street, made his way toward a stunning villa. After disappearing inside, he didn’t flip on any outside lights.
Nice.
For the next several minutes, darkness was her closest ally.
Sydney drove two blocks past the home, parking in front of another upscale villa she knew stood vacant. This wasn’t an ideal spot for a hit, but she didn’t get to choose the target or the location. She had to work with what she had.
In order to insure a smooth operation, she’d been in the city for three days watching and waiting for the right time to strike.
That time was now.
And she was ready.
Days earlier, she replaced the license plate of her rental car with a counterfeit. Since then, she hadn’t driven a single kilometer over the speed limit, and she behaved like a model citizen in a foreign land. She needed to go unnoticed, and she’d achieved that flawlessly.
After pulling a ski mask over her short, dark blond wig, she grabbed the silencer from the overnight bag on the passenger floor and slipped silently out of the car. While there were security cams on a lot of the homes, she wasn’t concerned. She was fast, she was exact, and she was used to working in the shadows.
As she walked down the dark street—using the trees and bushes to keep her well hidden—she reached under her jacket and stroked her Glock 19, then pulled out her SIG Sauer P226 and screwed on the suppressor. Her third weapon, a compact SIG Sauer P365-380, was strapped to her calf, concealed by her pants.
Guns made most people nervous. Not Sydney. For her, they had the opposite effect. Like a baby with a soothing binky, gripping the hard metal in her gloved hand calmed her.
A few of the upscale homes were lit up, but most stood dark against the night sky. The crescent moon shone like a beacon directing her toward her destination while the mountainsloomed like boogeymen in the distance. After cutting between two villas, she ducked into the backyard of one and made her way toward the house.
And that’s when she heard him. He was sitting on the second-floor balcony staring at his phone.
“Oh, yeah,” he groaned. “So good, baby.”
A shudder flitted through her. She didn’t want to take him out while he was yanking his junk, but she wasn’t about to wait until he’d finished. She had mere minutes to get in, eliminate him, then vanish like smoke into the night.
As he moaned through his orgasm, she slipped inside through the unlocked back door. In seconds, her eyes adjusted to the dark, and she bolted toward the stairs. Up she flew, two at a time, the adrenaline pumping through her at a quickening pace.
She both hated and loved that she was going to end this monster’s life. The conflicting emotions haunted her dreams, but she shoved out the feelings as she hurried toward the back bedroom. The French doors stood wide open, her mark sitting in a chair on the balcony, his back to her.
Here we go.
Though she wanted to tell him what she thought of him, she wasn’t there for a late-night chat. Her opinion of this monster was irrelevant. She gripped her SIG Sauer with both hands.
He pushed out of the chair, his bare white ass a stark contrast to his jet-black sweater. After pulling up his pants, he made his way into the darkened bedroom. She aimed her weapon, placing the laser’s red dot on the small space between his eyes, and she squeezed the trigger.
POP!
The bullet pierced him between the eyes and he dropped to the floor. She strode over, opened fire thrice more—POP! POP!POP!—piercing his heart. Then, she pulled out her phone and snapped three pics.
One down, two to go.
She tucked the suppressor into her pocket and fitted the firearm into its holster. Then, she hurried downstairs and out the back door, closing it behind her. Out front, she made her way toward her vehicle, ducking behind trees as she went. At the corner, she spotted a man and a woman with their small dog, so she crouched behind a hedgerow and waited.
