Male 15 Australian :) There was a slight chill running up the back of Arch, he couldn't react though. First rule of a true marksman, once you have you're spot and target, nothing shall persuade you to even breath differently. Laying on his stomach eye through the scope of his trusty Bird's Eye sniper rifle, he saw his jobs location. 500 meters, elevation, 300 meters. Wind, 3 kms. Mark. Situated on a tall building over looking a small cafe in a very menacing ally way. Three recorded murders, but the employer said 8. Comes in everyday at 1400 hours to collect his "protection" money and then leaves through the side entrance which leads into this ally way. His "protection group" killed the owners husband and kid. Sick bastard. Beep. The sound came from his watch. It was now time.
Arch surveyed the people going into the shop when he saw a gentleman in a white suit and a black cane. The canes handle was a fist holding a plasmid. This is the guy. Just as he was told the man left through the side entrance, he stopped to light a cigar and leaned against the wall counting his "protection" money. Mark. Arch let out a final gust of air and pulled the trigger lightly. The gun jolted back and the bullet traveled through the air cutting the wind apart. The bullet hit its target and it's target was his head. Sliding down the wall, blood smeared all over it and on the pavement, Arch's job was now complete. Sigh. Another job down. I just hope that i am really helping people.. Arch got up from his laying down position, packed the gun away into a buissness case and made his way to a street nearby. I used a silencer, surveying that street for a week, no one could see the ally from the main street, and only one couple leave the side entrance. 3 days and his body'll be found. Arch continued wondering the streets until he saw a poster saying "The Songbird flies where the soldiers fight. Join him in protecting Columbia." I guess it's that time. Arch turned directions and started whistling a calming tune.
Just smaller to fir the age :)