Morning. Though I cannot see out, I know that morning has come. I
wonder if it is a sunny day. Windows would be nice, but too dangerous.
Besides, I am leaving tonight. I will never see this place again.
There are many places like this in my past: used for a time, then left
behind. Dimly lit rooms and cold, lonely beds proffered by people who
will forget they ever saw my face. A small sacrifice to make for the
Cause.
I move to the bathroom and turn on the shower. I brush my teeth as the
water warms up, using an abrasive toothpaste that leaves a terrible
aftertaste. I test the water; it is still cold. The plumbing must be
left over from when this castle was first built.
Finally, the water is warm. I take off the clothes I have slept in and
leave them in a pile on the floor. Later, after I leave, someone will
take them away and burn them. Leave no trace.
I step into the shower and let the water pour over me, scalding my
flesh. I need the reminder. Mornings are always the hardest time,
especially a morning like this one, with the Fates spinning furiously.
Waking up, knowing what I will be doing in only a few hours. And even
more vitally, wishing I was not alone.
As the aroma of shampoo reaches my nose, I close my eyes and allow my
secret desires to enter my mind. Dreams of a time and a place where I
can look freely at the grass, the trees, the sky without care of who
might be around. And companionship. Someone whose tender kisses and
caresses brush my skin with a feather's touch, reaching the depths of my
soul. Tears cool my face, a familiar feeling. For this, of all my
dreams and fantasies, is the most hopeless- that I might find someone to
love me.
It is impossible. Love is a thing I can never risk. It would almost
certainly mean my death. This does not rule out late nights in bars,
one night stands- these are things I indulge in occasionally. But love
is never there.
The tears cease as silently as they began. I turn the water off and
all is quiet again. The foolish fantasies disappear and I am
professional once more. Someone has left a tray on the bed. Toast,
orange juice, and a banana. My hosts know my tastes.
I am not hungry this morning, but I eat the food. Hunger later will be
a distraction, a hindrance to my mission. Nothing can stand in the
way.
Not even fear of death. It is something I came to terms with years
ago. It is a risk, every time I accept a mission, that this may be the
one I do not return from. And I am not afraid. As a Spanish colleague
once said, "Que será, será." What will be, will be. If my mother's
fervent beliefs are true, then one day it will all end and I will burn
forever for my crimes. But I am prepared to accept this.
I look over the information about my target. Security, normal
routine. I have chosen the place. It is a spot he cannot hope to avoid
without breaking every pattern he has ever set. My mission will not
fail.
I open a drawer and take out the weapon I have chosen. It is the
SigSauer 228, a bigger gun than usual, but strong enough to do the job.
I adjust the straps on the holster, trying it on and taking it off to
adjust again. The straps have loosened overnight. I try it on again,
and the fit is perfect.
I look at my reflection in the mirror. Perhaps I am not what one would
call beautiful, but there is a word to describe me. Powerful. I look
closely at the face staring back at me and smile. Yes, powerful. Today
I will exercise that power, ending the life and tyranny of one of the
greatest enemies of the Cause. I control his destiny.
And me? Who controls my destiny? Certainly not the man I am about to
kill. I prefer to think that all is left to chance. I check the clip,
load it, and put the gun in the holster. I close the door behind me,
leaving another room to oblivion, and go out, prepared for whatever the
Fates have woven for me.
