[@LeeRoy]

[i]-The power was cut. The train was slowing down, dimly lit. Alternating blocks of light and shadow cast a carousel's roundabout throughout the train car as the outside illumination passed by. Like an apparition, Donny seemed to appear in the middle of the car as one last wave of darkness was chased away. The train eased to a stop. The hitman's hands were deep in his pockets and he was standing as still as a corpse in his predatorial slouch. He didn't have the element of surprise anymore. He didn't have all of his weapons either. His girlfriend had taken them whilst he was passed out from the sleeping pills she'd drugged his nightly baking soda water with. Fucking indigestion. She'd wanted him to take a day off, refused to tell him where his shit was. Women.
It figured that the one person he'd rather not kill had compromised his profession. He'd let her off the hook, accepting that he was going to take the day off. Yet here he was, sharing this train with someone on his hit list. He'd have to make do.-[/i]