"Viktor, you and I both know it's the only way."

"No, Juhani, there-"

"Damnit, Viktor! The czar is giving the speech in three hours. Even with a brilliant new plan, there's no way we could prepare."

"Juhani, at least let me."

"I can't operate a sniper with one hand. There's no adjusting this."

"SPORE you, Juhani." Juhani got out of the truck, which was parked in a parking garage. Viktor leaned back into the seat and began to cry.

----

An hour and a half later, Juhani picked up the submachine gun. He loaded it, putting three or four extra magazines in his pouches. He secured the the gun to his chest, tearing the shoe strings out of his shoes to do so. He fumbled with the knot for a moment; tying things with one hand was difficult.

"Viktor."

There was no reply.

"Viktor!" Juhani walked around to the front of the truck, looking in the window. "Viktor?"

Viktor was sitting, resting his head in his hands. "....Good luck." he said. Juhani nodded, and turned and left, walking out of the parking garage in the direction of the gathering crowd.

Viktor took a few minutes, sitting almost motionlessly. He opened up the door: it'd been the first time he'd walked around in several hours, and his legs were stiff. He jogged for a few minutes, getting the blood flowing, and then walked slowly, to slow down his heart race. He went to the back of the car and made sure the SVD was secure, so it wouldn't be shaken around, and took a quick inventory of everything he had left.

He made his way back to the front of the car and drove up to the roof of the parking garage, where almost all of the parking spots had been taken. They had been taking turns waiting near the parking space to deter anyone else from staying there. Viktor finally pulled the truck up, parking it as close to the curb at the edge as he could. He sat for a moment, looking around. Suddenly he felt very exposed, very quickly. Surely there were snipers all around him right now...

He glanced down. In the floorboard where Juhani usually sat, Juhani's pistol was laying, still in the holster.

He ducked down, so he wouldn't be able to be seen through the windshield. He grabbed Juhani's pistol and slipped it discreetly to the inside of his belt. He pulled his shirt down, to cover up the clip, and got out of the truck. He walked around to the back, glancing up at the sun. Noon. It would be setting in their direction...

He scanned for a few minutes, making sure that no one else was on the roof. A stupid couple with their stupid children, lollygagging for five minutes. Once they were gone, he pulled a few trash cans (again, making sure to not be able to be seen by a potential sniper) to block the way. Hopefully someone would get the message. He walked back, staying directly behind the car. He pulled out the SVD, putting the magazine in. Viktor took a few deep breaths.

He pulled the Dragunov out and placed it underneath the truck (they'd been sure to inflate the tires as much as possible), keeping it underneath the shadow of the truck. No scope glare (of course, the sun being on the opposite side probably helped).

He crawled underneath the car, out onto the rough concrete. He crawled back out, grabbing a few jackets and shirts, laying them to make it a bit more bearable. It was much better now, and he moved up close to the rifle, looking down the scope. He pulled the pistol out of his holster and laid it down next to the rifle. Partially for safety, but partially...

Thirty minutes to the start of the speech. Then twenty. Then ten. Then five. Then three, two, one...

The czar came out to tumultuous applause. Viktor looked through the scope, seeing Juhani's face. Juhani turned, scanning all the rooftops, finally coming to the parking garage. He stared at where he knew Viktor was, and kept his gaze there for a few seconds, before moving. Wouldn't want to draw suspicion.

The speech began. Bull that Viktor didn't care about. He felt searing hate for the man speaking, his voice magnified with half a dozen microphones, but pushed it away. Had to keep his heart rate steady. The shot wasn't very far. A few hundred yards at best.

It was nine minutes, eighteen seconds into the speech. The time they'd agreed on. Viktor watched Juhani rustle inside of his coat with one arm , and saw two shoelaces, tied together, drop down to his feet.

From there, Viktor stopped looking down the scope at him. This was another part of the plan. He turned his gaze back to where the czar was rambling about prosperity and-

His speech was interrupted with gunfire, a spray of bullets being shot out at the czar as Juhani ran towards the side of the stage. It was all of the three seconds before he dropped the gun, plunged his hand into his coat, grasped the C4 detonator he'd received from the city hall, and blew himself to smithereens.

Viktor didn't have time to mourn. Last member of Vallankumous. Security guards were already coming out to secure the czar, and the snipers, who would all have turned to the explosion, had to be blinded by the magnified light. At least for a few seconds; he knew they'd be ready to fire very quickly.

Viktor took a deep breath, slowly exhaled, and lined the crosshairs on the czar's forehead. The wind had stopped; the flags behind him had ceased to move. The Coriolis effect wouldn't matter at a distance this short.

He pulled the trigger, and there was a deafening bang. After the recoil settled, Viktor looked through the scope: the bullet had gone straight through the czars' head. It was a miracle, and Viktor laughed to himself. He took a moment to feel sorry for Juhani; but then he knew it was time to go.

Within five minutes the czar's forces would be swarming the parking garage-he doubted the shadow of the truck had concealed the flash as well as he'd hoped. He crawled back, moving as slowly and stealthily as he could, and got the AK-47 from the back of the truck. He crawled back under his shelter, taking a brief moment to scan for any snipers.

Viktor smiled-this had been televised. He turned around, making sure his feet weren't poking out, and got the AK-47 ready to fire. Juhani's pistol was right beside it, for when the AK ran out.