Seven days. It had been seven days since the disaster of a mission had taken place. While many of the others had been letting themselves grieve for their lost teammates and friends Patrick couldn't afford the luxury. He knew as soon as he walked away with The Red Jack that their new group would have no funds, and he took it upon himself to start remedying that. He had reached out to his old contacts telling them to put out the word that The Celtic Sniper was accepting contracts again, something he hadn't done during his entire time with the group. It only took a couple of days for two contracts to be brought to his attention. Normally he wouldn't accept more than one contract at a time however he made an exception due to the circumstances.

The first was from the wife of a businessman, or something or another. He didn't really pay attention to the who (though he gathered enough to know it was her husband she wanted dead), all he cared about was the where and when which she also provided. The second interestly enough was from the husband, who had become well aware of the fact that his wife was planning his death. The businessman even agreed to pay up front just in case he ended up dying before she was killed knowing enough about The Celtic Sniper to know he would finish the job. 

Patrick spent the next couple of days finding the perfect location for his nest, he ended up deciding upon a building that had been largely abandoned in the aftermath and was just a block away from the Marriot both groups were staying at, and setting up a banking account for the splinter group which he gave control of over to The Red Jack. Neither contract was all that substantial, but it would be enough to hold them over for a bit. 

He was currently settled into his nest and he took a moment to glance down at his watch. He still had a few minutes before the appointed time. The wife had been very specific, as had Patrick. He had added a stipulation to their contract, since she wanted to be present for the death of her husband she had ten seconds to transfer the funds before she found herself in the same position as her husband. Of course she didn't know that she would be joining him regardless. 

With time to spare Patrick slowly moved his scope away from the window where his targets would be and instead focused on the lounge of the hotel they all were currently housed. Ulysse was the first he saw sitting at the bar, and the sight of the man caused Patrick to frown slightly beneath the dark mask. He harboured no ill will towards his former leader, in fact he highly respected the man as he was just as human as himself. He hoped Ulysse would understand why he left, he had spent his entire life in the shadows and he couldn't afford to be dragged into the light. Before he could search for any others he glanced at his watch again and realized the time was drawing closer. With one last brief glance at the lounge he swiveled his sight back on his target window, where he saw the pair in the midst of a heated arguement. 

Unable to look at his watch Patrick began to count in his head while clicking the safety off. The crosshairs were focused just beneath the man's ear, and just to the side of the back of his jaw. As the countdown crept closer to zero he began to gently apply pressure to the trigger until he fired upon reaching the magic number. Thanks to the silencer Tortoise had made for him there was no sound, but he could see the result as the wall behind where the man had been standing was coated in a pink mist. 

Without missing a beat his scope found itself poised over the wife, who already had her phone in her hand. Just four seconds later he heard his phone make a series of beeps, indicating the proper amount had been disposed. Just as the beeps ended he shot again, watching as another layer of blood painted the wall. While he moved his head away from the scope he thought briefly about how disappointed Tortoise would likely be if he knew what he had just used the gift the old man had made him for. He shook such thoughts away quickly, knowing that they needed to start earning money sooner rather than later and both contracts had been deposited in full into the new groups account. 

Before he could rise he heard Jack's voice through his transmitter, telling them of two current tasks. His contacts had yet to send him any new contracts and knowing Ulysse he would be going after Tinhead just like Jack. If fortune smiled upon him he just might get the chance to explain himself to the fighting prodigy. 

"I doubt that ya will be needin conformation on ma part Jack, but I'll meetcha at ta jet." His Irish accent still clung to him despite his years traveling, though truth be told he had no intention of ever losing it. With practiced ease he began to disassemble his rifle before making his way off of the roof with the airport his destination.