The locker was neatly laid out with two books stacked on the right. One was “The psychology of crime” which had its black leather and gold trimmed bookmark three quarters of the way through the book. The other was “The History of the Sniper rifle” where her navy blue cardboard bookmark was placed just over a fifth of the way through the book. On her left was a set of papers, mostly letters from home, which she placed the letter in her hand on top of. A photograph of her and her family was firmly stuck with blue tack of the corners in the centre of her locker. She admired the photo and smiled. Her soft skinny finger reached out and touched the face of her father. She was then overcome with a feeling of remorse and sadness, but she did not cry. She only breathed deeply but slowly and shut her locker firmly.
Suddenly, a loud noise, much like a smoke alarm filled the room and roared down the ears or everyone in the room. She looked above her to see the bright scarlet red light gleaming, like the sun, in her eyes. The light rotated at a constant speed. She gawked at the light, mouth wide open and soon realised that this would be her first day on the job.
Everyone moved about a second after hearing the siren. The sudden rush of movement was almost like a Christmas sale, officers were running in all directions. However it was not panic, everybody knew where and when to go, almost like an educated Christmas rush. Everything slowed down, as if in slow motion. Fixed in her position she glanced and watched at the people running to the ammunition room to collect their weapons and gear. She then breathed in deeply again and ran as the others were into the room. She was clearly there later than the rest as most of them were halfway suited up. She picked up her body armour. The words of someone close to her muttered on her conscience.
“At first the gear is always heavy but after a while you get use to it.”
The words “get used to it” seemed to echo in her thought and memory bombarded brain. The actual armour was jet black and padded very carefully. It was soft against her hands. The stitched finish between each pad was impressive. It was hard to believe that this would save her life one day. Then she put on her strap with holders, one for her sidearm and several others. Then she put on her navy blue baggy pants and jacket.
She tried to remember what she needed to take while still trying to bury the memories of her past. She packed her night vision goggles that looked like something out of a Star Wars movie and halted to marvel at the two green round emeralds, which were her goggles. She looked up and saw her colleagues almost ready.
Everything slowed down again and she stopped to ogle at Officer Paul Ceriman. She smiled and then a fantasy of them sitting at a candle lit dinner filled her psyche. The passion that she felt for this man was overwhelming and she almost always had to b pinched to break the unintentional hypnotism of Paul.
Just then, the memory of her father cropped up again and she returned to the world. She swiftly packed all of her equipment like a thief and then proceeded to the armoury. She picked up her sniper rifle. Something did not feel right about the rifle. She started to see bloodstains all over the gone. She shook her head and the stains disappeared. She stared at the gun again. It seemed fine this time, which was a puzzle to her. Time was of the essence, so she just picked up the monster and boarded the van and sat with the other officers.
She looked rifle again. There was a long sniper sight on top of the actual weapon. Underneath was a long barrel with bullets inside and a large brown butt that she would rest on the shoulder. Underneath that was only the trigger and the laser sight, which had a switch to turn it on or off. For some reason, unknown to her at the time, she was almost unfamiliar with the weapon. As if the weapon was once a part of her, but no longer was. It was as if she had never picked up that weapon before. The van suddenly jerked taking her eyes off of the beast in her hand.
The van was now in motion, rocking everyone in the van from side to side with its bouncing. It was like a bouncy castle, except everyone was sitting down and not jumping. Her hand was shaking. She thought that the shaking and her unfamiliarity of the weapon would fade away. A gloved hand then reached over and touched her gloved hand. Instantly she looked into the blue eyes of Officer Paul. Her hand stopped shaking. His hand withdrew and he winked at her.
She blushed red like a rag doll. Then she knew that today might bring happiness. But the mission was still in hand. She needed to concentrate. The officer in charge started speaking about what the scenario was. She thought she would concentrate on that, and it worked. Her mind was now on the mission and its success. Her mentality engaged in flashbacks to the training she took and the awards she received.
Then the officer was silent and the van stopped. This almost woke her up and her heart rate jumped, as if she received an electric shock. She rose off of her seat and everyone ran out of the van. She knew exactly what to do and proceeded to the building adjacent to the target. With her gun on her back she ran up the stairs and on to the fifth level. Her footsteps where so soft and silent that the serenity and peacefulness was maintained in that small part of the building, nothing moved.
She shouldered through the door into the dark room. The walls very painted in a disgusting yellow-brown colour. There were old tabloid newspapers on the rotten wooden floor. There was only a light bulb in the room at the top dangling like a tree branch. The room was filthy and was a mess. Soon her radio started roaring questions at her. She whispered into the radio and proceeded in setting up her rifle on window she broke.
The radio again blabbered at her. He had now fixed her head microphone and no longer needed the radio and put it down on the floor to her right. She placed her right eye on the eyepiece of the sniper rifle and glimpsed at the room where the apparent target was. She saw the target.
He was a middle-aged large man of far eastern features. He wore a cyan and white chequered shirt, black corduroy trousers and black polished shoes. He was armed with a silver double barrel shotgun that was relatively old. He swung it around at the three scared and handcuffed hostages very carelessly as if it were both a weapon and a pointing object.
Then the order came, to neutralise the target. But she sat there, withdrew from the eyepiece, looked up and looked in the eyepiece again. Again, the leading office told her to take the shot. Time slowed down and almost ground to a halt. The river of thoughts and memories crashed and collided with the rocks of feelings that were in her head. Memories of her past, and the feelings from the past came into play. Fantasy and feelings for the possible future left her mesmerised. Adrenaline flowed through the cells in her body. She then returned to normal time and breathed in deeply. There was a sudden inadvertent movement in her right index finger. She had pulled the trigger.
