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An assasins story

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It was a Sunday, a cold Sunday, something contradistinctive to the usual blooming heat of Australia. As he anxiously sat high up on a rooftop, camouflaged amongst the rough bricks, red rooftop tiles and the gathered crusty orange leaves that had fallen of the naked oak tree that rooted from the derelict fog filled street below, his eyes were focused deeply on one thing, the accommodation across the road, the Prime Minister's office, waiting for him to finish, what seemed like an evening's session of romance accompanied by his unknown guest. He seemed tired, for his face was down and both his red eyes carried a bag of sleep beneath them, the constant yawning added to this, but he knew, that waiting was a part of the job. As he watched a stray dog run across the street below, he suddenly began to reminisce his childhood, images of hunting with his father ignited within his memory. A deer minding his own business, not knowing that he was yards away from a twin barrelled shotgun, camouflaged within the colossal bushes. Then a sudden outburst of bullets that echoed like the howl of a white fox in the arctic desert, throughout the silent forest. Moving towards the deer, the bullet had pierced in through the skull, the deep red blood trickling across the brown earth, like a gentle stream. ...read more.


He reached for his rifle and peered through the scope and looked into the minister's window. He was gone. No one present...'Damn!'....for he knew his daydreaming had given in enough time for the Prime minister to leave his office. He peered again through his scope to double check for the prime ministers presence, and then a shadow on the office floor came into visibility, his heart began to race, for he was not sure whose shadow it was. He waited in deep anxiety and patience to find out who the shadow belonged to, and then a figure walked into sight, its back against him, once again he was not sure whether it was the minister, the anxiety was killing him inside, and his heart was doing sixty miles per hour, for he knew his money was on the line, the figure slowly turned around, it was the prime minister, the anxiety died out and his heart reduced its beating speed. He waited another five minutes to make sure the prime minister's guest was not present. No one else to be seen, the prime minister was alone; it seemed he was now getting ready to leave as he had put his jacket on. Show time. He got up and leaned the rifle barrel on the brickwork, the yellow glow of the high lamp lights glazed into his eyes, but his focus was well trained by now. ...read more.


He turned into a dark alley and waited, waiting for them to follow. Careful not to get caught, he brandished a revolver from his back pocket and anxiously waited for someone to turn into the alley. A tall man with dark hair and a dark suit entered, he was clearly a Police official. "Put the gun down sir!" "No, you put the gun down, I will not surrender", He said confidently. "I repeat, put the gun down sir, I will not ask again!" "For sure you won't" He pulled his trigger and began to fire; the officer went down, conscious he was, griped onto his wound on the left leg, and his hand covered in red. "Aaaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrgggggggggghhhhh, you won't get away with this!" He cried in agony. The sigh on his face resembled what was going through his mind, he thought he'd got away, but it wasn't over, unaware of what was on the other end of the alley, the other officer stood pointing a gun to the back of his head. "Don't move! I'll fire, put your gun down now!", the officer vigorously shouted, he did not want to get shot as well. He had no option but to put the gun down, The officer began to talk through his radio, "Requesting back up immediately, we have one in custody, fellow officer is down, I repeat fellow officer is down, over". ...read more.

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