《The Assassin's Shadow》 Chapter 1 Chapter 1 It was a cold morning in Berlin with the wind whipping the coats of those walking down the crowded street. People tightly hugged their collars with many letting their hands seek refuge in the warmth of their coat packets. From the depths of a dark alley, a solitary figure walked out and seamlessly blended in with the crowd. At first look, the man seemed ordinary enough. A black peacoat buttoned up with a dark grey scarf wrapped around his neck. A sky blue dress shirt and a black tie in a half windsor knot poked out from underneath. With a pair of fitted black trousers and a pair of polished, straight-laced oxfords he seemed like a normal business professional. In his left hand, he was carrying a slightly bulky black briefcase that fit in with the rest of his ensemble. Nothing about him set him apart from anyone else walking down the street. However, if one looked closer, the man moved with purpose, his back ramrod straight and his posture exuding a sense of confidence that was hard to fake. He walked for exactly three blocks before he exited the bustling crowd as quickly as he had joined it. Opening the door of a swanky hotel, he walked toward the concierge desk. He flashed a smile at the attractive receptionist and approached her station. Noticing the handsome man the moment he walked in, the receptionist was all smiles and greeted him with enthusiasm. ¡°Welcome to the Ritz Berlin sir. How may I help you today?¡±. ¡°Hello, I''d like to check in. Reservation for Jack Devereaux¡±, the man spoke with a charismatic and warm voice as he handed her his passport. A brief, almost unoticeable glint shone in the receptionist''s eyes as she smiled and said ¡°Just wait one moment while I pull up your reservation¡±. Saying so, she started tapping the keyboard in front of her while taking glances at the information on the passport. ¡°Of course¡±, Jack replied as he turned around to survey the lobby. His eyes started from the corners by the entrance, scanning the ceiling for cameras. Having found two aimed at the entrance, he turned his gaze towards the middle of the ceiling. Finding no cameras there, his eyes made their way to right above the concierge desk and what greeted him were three cameras covering the line, the entrance to the elevators and everyone who approached the desk. Noting the positions in his head, his attention went down, looking at all the people who were milling around. He never liked working in hotels. There were always too many people to keep track of, too many cameras for his liking and all it took was one nosy housekeeping staff member to blow the entire operation. As he was observing the people seated by the bar, he heard the receptionist calling his name. ¡°Mr. Devereaux, you are checked in and your room will be suite number 9 on the 28th floor. Here are your keys to the room, simply insert the card into the slot above the knob and the door will open.¡± Taking the envelope with the key cards from her hand, Jack flashed her another smile and thanked her. ¡°Would you like me to send your bag up to your room?¡±, she questioned, eyeing his briefcase. ¡°No thank you, I''ll take it up myself¡±. ¡°Have a pleasant evening and I hope you enjoy your stay with us¡±. Thanking her again, Jack made his way towards the elevators. He waited for a short while and soon a door opened up with a ding. Stepping inside, he noticed the card reader under the buttons. Taking out a keycard from the envelope, he swiped it and pressed 28 on the panel. The door closed and the elevator proceeded upwards. Reaching the 28th floor, he exited and followed the numerous signs down the long hallway to where his suite was. Inserting the card as he was instructed, the door gave a small beep as the locks thunked, allowing Jack to enter. Once inside, he set his case down on the bed and gave a tired sigh as he slumped into the armchair by the window.Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon. The jet lag from his trip to the United States a couple days back was starting to affect him. However, he didn''t let his tiredness affect his vigilance, as he knew that it was at these times where he could easily be caught. Him catching one small detail could potentially be the difference between life or death and his training didn''t let him down. Getting up, he went over to the bed and opened up his briefcase. Removing a small black device that looked like a slim wand, he started sweeping it from one corner of the room to the opposite end. He focused particularly on the ceiling, electrical outlets and any electronic appliances such as the lamp and the phone. Seemingly satisfied, he made his way out of the room and went through the same procedure for the living room and finally the bathroom. Having heard no reaction from the device, he switched it off and made his way back into the bedroom. Removing his jacket and scarf, he put them on a hangar and hung them inside the closet. Opening his case, his fingers skirted the top edge and he quickly located the hidden recess. The padding on the inside smoothly slid out, revealing a foam cutout storing a Heckler&Koch HK45 Compact Tactical with an Inforce APL weapon light mounted on the underside rail. Taking the padding out further revealed a cutout that stored 4 loaded magazines and a SilencerCo Omega 45K suppressor nestled alongside each other. Retrieving the pistol and suppressor, Jack started to slowly twist the suppressor onto the barrel. After screwing it on, he removed a magazine and inserted it into the gun. Rapidly racking the slide, he brought the pistol up to eye level and aimed at the wall, making sure his sights were visible. Bringing it down to his chest, he brought it back up again, repeating the motion until he was satisfied. Placing the pistol on top of the night stand with the grip facing him, he sat down on the bed. Unlacing his shoes and taking them off, he placed them right next to his bedside, positioning them shoulder-width apart with the tongues stretched upwards, ready to slip into quickly if required. As he sank into the plush mattress, gazing up at the ceiling, he reviewed the mission briefing in his head. There really wasn''t much to review though. As far as he was concerned, his employers had told him to get to this hotel and wait for a package to be delivered. Initially, he had raised an eyebrow at the lengths they went to to ensure secrecy. The obscene amount of money they were going to pay him was the only thing that made him turn a blind eye to their antics. Albeit, he still had some reservations about this mission. Nobody paid that kind of money without there being a catch. In his line of work, excessive greed often lead to a bullet in the head. With a mix of cautiousness and anticipation for tomorrow, he allowed himself to drift off into a light sleep.
Author''s Note: Hello dear readers! As you might have surmised from my username I am a bit of a fanatic when it comes to fiction writing. I''ve been trawling the site for a while now and have always been content to read the works of others. This will be the first time I write a story from scratch. In the near future, I will be taking a course on fiction writing to satisfy a writing course requirement for my degree. The teacher has said that all students must be prepared to write at least 30 pages worth of a story for the final paper. He has given us free reign creatively and I decided to start early and have a polished product instead of haphazardly throwing something together. If the story is well received, I might just continue it further. English is my third language, but I speak it fluently. I have written numerous short papers before, but never anything of this scale and am not confident of how solid my writing is. If you find any typos or have any criticism, don''t be afraid to leave a comment and I will do my best to reply to them. Thank you very much for reading this far and I can''t wait for you to join me on this literary journey. Till next time. FanFicFanatic Chapter 2 Chapter 2 A few hours later, Jack woke up refreshed. After brushing his teeth, he promptly folded his bed. It was a habit that he just couldn''t kick, despite all the years that had passed. The bed was folded neat and tight, tucked in with properly squared corners. After finishing, he absentmindedly stared at his work for a couple seconds. He could still hear the screams in his head, the Army Drill Sergeant chewing him out in front of his entire platoon for subpar folds. He had been a naive teenager who thought he had it all figured out. At the tender age of eighteen, the cusp of legal adulthood, he had given a blank check to his government like so many other brave Americans. His thought process at the time was to graduate boot camp and go to the School of Infantry. He had daydreamed about all the exotic locales he would travel to, all the ass he would kick with his brothers-in-arms. He hoped to become a well-read, well-traveled man who would have some stories to tell his grandchildren about what an amazing and fulfilling life he had lead. His dreams and hopes for the future were the only things fueling his motivation at the time and he soon came to realize, that they weren''t enough. The Army School of Infantry was one of the toughest challenges he had faced in his life. He struggled daily with the physical requirements and barely passed by the end of his training. If it wasn''t for the motivation of his squad, he would never have gotten through. They came to be his closest family, the only real family he had ever known. However, there wasn''t anything happening in the world that required deployment, so his squad was lucky enough to be assigned to a base in the country. It was a relatively cushy job that he had enjoyed a lot. The work was repetitive but simple and the fact that his buddies were pretty goofy helped alleviate the crushing boredom that he would face when they were assigned a ton of bitch-work. The numerous weekends they had spent going around town and having fun had been the best couple years of his life. The crude jokes, laughter and jovial attitude they had was something he fondly remembered. All of that changed one quiet Tuesday morning in September. He had been taking a quick break before his shift started in the supply room. All he had to do was check boxes on a form as he walked around and inspected the armory, making sure that shit was where it was supposed to be. It was his best friend Tommy who had yelled for him the moment he entered the room. He had seemed out of breath and Jack had gotten a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach. Something terrible had happened. They ran to the nearest television in the barracks, finding a large crowd of serviceman had gathered and were watching with disbelieving expressions. The cameras zoomed in and followed a plane as it crashed into the second tower. He didn''t know what to think, and he had hoped that it was all a cruel joke. His eyes glued to the television, he watched as the people in the tower jumped to their deaths. The reporters on the ground were frantically running away as the tower collapsed. Jack had seen enough. After a couple hours of silently watching, he went back to his bunk and sat down, trying to process what he had just seen. At first, he had simply been in shock, not able to understand why such a terrible thing had happened. The anger came next, as he started to think about what kind of animals would carry out such a brutal attack. His thoughts then turned to his fellow soldiers, many of whom had started desperately calling their families, trying to make sure they were okay. Others simply broke down, having already gotten calls informing them about their relatives dying in the attack. Jack felt isolated as he watched his brothers and sisters grieve. While he could always sympathize with their plight, he felt it would be fake. He had never known his own family and he didn''t want to. From as long as he could remember, he had been in a house with many other boys and girls. As the youngest, he had been frequently bullied and abused by his siblings and ¡°parents¡±. After growing up, he realized that he had been nothing but an extra paycheck to them. Despite their harsh and uncaring treatment, Jack still felt some twisted sense of gratitude for their actions. He had grown up faster, learning the rules of life a lot earlier than those who were privileged enough to have caring parents. The minute he legally turned eighteen, he soundlessly crept out of the house in the middle of the night. No goodbye hugs were given and no tears were shed. He chose to disappear from their lives, almost like he had never existed. His measly belongings in the world, a green toy soldier, a blanket and the clothes on his back were all he had taken. He made his way towards the recruitment center and slept right outside. When the first recruiter arrived, he was surprised to find Jack sleeping outside. Waking him up, he invited him in for some coffee. While the coffee pot was heating up, he heard the recruiter ask him ¡°What''s your name, son?¡±. Slightly nervous, Jack responded ¡°My name is Jack, sir¡±. ¡°Nice to meet you Jack, my name''s Scott¡±, the recruiter replied as he handed him a cup of coffee. As he imbibed the steaming, bitter concoction, Jack felt warmth spread around his body. ¡°You hungry?¡±, Scott asked. Jack nodded and saw a bright yellow streak in the corner of his eye. He swiveled his body towards the object and caught it with one hand. Staring down at it, he found he was grasping a ripe banana. ¡°Good reflexes¡± Scott remarked as he watched how Jack had caught the banana. ¡°You play any sports, son?¡± he questioned as he started to peel a banana of his own. Jack replied in a respectful manner ¡°No, sir. I never had the time¡±. ¡°What did you do with all your free time then?¡±.¡°I washed the dishes, cleaned the toilet, wiped the floors and other household stuff¡±. Curious, Scott asked ¡°Your parents made you do all those things? Did they at least let you go out to play after you finished?¡±. ¡°I don''t know who my parents are sir, I just lived in a house with a couple of guardians and some other kids¡±. ¡°Foster care?¡± Scott asked. ¡°Yes, sir. For as long as I can remember¡±.¡°Well that brings me to my main question. Why are you here, son?¡± Jack perked up and mustered as much enthusiasm as he could and said ¡°I want to join the Army, sir!¡±. ¡°Well that much is obvious seeing as you slept outside in the cold waiting for me to get here. What I''m asking you is why you want join¡±.You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story. The question threw Jack for a loop. Why did he want to join? It was something that he had never really questioned. He had seen a couple of Army recruiters at his school and had stood nearby when they were presenting to a group of people. They had spoken of adventure, camaraderie and the honor of serving your country. These things had simply appealed to him at the time and after a cursory review of a brochure from their table, he had been convinced that this is what he wanted to do. Slightly unsure, Jack mumbled ¡°I want to serve my country, sir¡±. The recruiter simply stared at him. Meeting his eyes, Jack''s head slumped slightly, his eyes shifting away the moment they had made eye contact. ¡°Really? Why don''t you tell me the real reason?¡±. Surprised by this reaction, Jack forced himself to make eye contact and asked ¡°Why don''t you believe me? I really do want to serve my country, sir¡±. Laughing, Scott said ¡°How long do you think I''ve been doing this, son? I''ve seen all sorts of men and women walk through here, each with their own reasons for joining. All of those who told me that they wanted to serve their country had a certain look in their eyes. A sort of determination and fierceness that was there for all to see. You my friend, don''t have that look about you. So I''m going to ask you again, why do you want to join?¡± Jack was facing quite the conundrum. He badly wanted to join the Army, but the last thing he wanted to do was lie to Scott. Providing he even could lie to him, which Jack highly doubted after their previous exchange, he started to question his motivations. His mind racing, he was trying to come up with a decent answer when he got a feeling. It was a gut feeling that he often relied on to avoid the anger of his siblings and guardians growing up. ¡°Family, sir. I want to be part of a family¡±. He looked up and saw Scott''s smiling face. ¡°Don''t worry Jack, you''re going to be part of the Army family from now on. What branch are you looking to join?¡±. ¡°Infantry, sir. I want to be an infantryman¡±. ¡°Well then, lets get to work on making that happen¡±. Scott stretched out his hand as he spoke and Jack reached out and took it. It was a firm, strong shake that would signify the beginning of his Army career. Three sharp raps on his door jolted Jack out his trip down memory lane. Leaping into action, he slid directly into his shoes, grabbed his pistol and angled it towards the door. Slowly walking forward, he rolled on the balls of his feet to minimize the sound of his steps. The door had a built in peephole, but Jack wouldn''t ever use it. Anyone who used a peephole in his line of work was either untrained, or had a death wish. All it took was someone from outside to see the peephole darkening and a single shot would end the life of the person on the other side. Making sure to avoid the peephole, Jack made his way to the right side of the door and crouched down. He transferred his pistol to his left hand and reached towards the knob with his right. Stabilizing himself using his knee, he prepared to open the door. He took this low angle approach as most people would shoot where they thought his chest and abdominal area would be. At least thats the approach he would take. Bulletproof vest or not, it would hurt the target enough to incapacitate them for a few seconds. While this approach would only cause a mere second of delay to a highly trained professional, that precious second could allow Jack to shoot back. Controlling his breathing, Jack twisted the knob and opened the door in one smooth motion. Seeing no one in the immediate vicinity, he got up and leaned around the corner with his finger on the trigger and looked out into the long hallway. There was no sign of anyone, but there was a small cardboard box placed on the side. Hiding the pistol behind his back, he bent down, picked up the box and quickly retreated back into the room. The box opened without any effort and two things were inside. A USB drive and a small piece of paper with the words ¡°Good Luck¡± written in a beautiful, cursive style font. Jack went over to his case and unbuckled his laptop from the velcro harness inside. Powering it up he inserted the USB and as he tried to open it, he found a prompt on the screen asking for the password. He typed in ¡°Good Luck¡± into the box and the prompt went away, being replaced with what looked like a directory of files. Starting with the first folder, he perused the contents. This is going to be a long day, he thought to himself as began his research on the target. Chapter 3 Chapter 3 Jack was poring over the files with everything he had. The clients had really gone overboard this time. The amount of information they had provided bordered on the absurd. He had spent a couple hours already and he still felt that he¡¯d barely scratched the surface. While giving his eyes a break, Jack started to feel a little peckish. He opted to order a light Continental style breakfast consisting of a vegetable omelet, toast and some fruits from the hotel¡¯s menu. After ordering he went back to his work. Half an hour later, he heard a knock. ¡°Room service!¡±, a man called from behind the door. Jack took his pistol from the arm of the sofa and set it down next to him, covering it with a small pillow. He closed any sensitive files he had open and opened a tab that was displaying his email. He presented the look of a business professional reading and answering emails from his room. He removed a ten-euro bill from his wallet, folded it and kept it in his left hand that was supporting his laptop. ¡°Come in!¡±, Jack spoke while projecting his voice towards the door. This was another reason he hated working in hotels. He always had to be on guard from everything and everyone. When it came to fancy hotels, the amount of staff necessary to keep them clean and properly receive guests was massive. Service professionals like receptionists, bellhops and room service attendants especially were numerous and very easy to impersonate. With all the manpower that hotels of this caliber hires, a lot of the staff wouldn¡¯t know each other, making it simple to slip in and out undetected. None of the guests threw you a second glance and you just became another person in a uniform. In fact, Jack had used this same method on a couple of jobs that involved working inside hotels to great success. With that experience in mind, he always made them enter the room first. Once they entered, he kept an eye on them at all times and always kept a loaded weapon nearby. He heard a thunk as the locks disengaged and the knob turned. The first thing to enter was a cart that held a couple of covered dishes. The cart was being pushed by a man who seemed to be of German descent. With light blonde hair, piercing blue eyes and a pale complexion he stood at about five feet ten inches and spoke English with a slight German accent. ¡°Here is your order sir. One vegetable omelet, toast and a fresh fruit medley¡±, he rattled off the order as he took off the covers one by one. ¡°Thank you very much¡±, Jack spoke in a sincere yet somewhat cautious tone as he eyed the room service attendant. The way he moved, he didn¡¯t appear to be trained and his professionalism made him seem to be an experienced member of the hotel. No matter the signs, Jack still kept his guard up. He had seen enough experienced people in his world who could seemingly become completely different with a little practice and makeup. They would seem vulnerable and untrained at a superficial level and they would use this to their advantage when facing others with similar training. While he couldn¡¯t emulate them at that level, he still had a basic understanding of how to cover up his training and take on a persona. Jack took the money he had prepared and handed it to the attendant, making sure to never let go of his pistol throughout the entire exchange. The attendant accepted the note and thanked Jack. ¡°Is there anything else that you require sir?¡± ¡°No, thank you¡±. Nodding, the attendant promptly turned around and exited the room, closing the door behind him. Jack patiently waited for a couple minutes, listening for any activity in the hallway outside his room. Hearing none, he removed the pillow on top of his pistol and transferred his pistol to his left side as he was using the provided utensils with his right. Jack had trained shooting with his non-dominant hand as part of his Army training and felt confident that he could engage hostiles with his left hand almost as well as his right. He focused purely on eating, making sure to finish quickly and not distract himself. After finishing his breakfast, he went back to reviewing the files and started to compile the main points into a single document. It was a skill that he had developed slowly throughout the years and had proved handy when it came to the jobs he took. Sometimes, the clients expected him to do the necessary reconnaissance on the target and he would of course charge them an arm and a leg for the service. Most of the time, the clients provided the intel as they needed a job done in a certain fashion. The variety of methods that he was allowed was rather limited and when providing the intelligence, the clients felt it within their purview to tell him exactly how to do his job. Despite the annoying requirements placed on him, Jack never once complained. Since they were paying him, they had the right to request a job be done however they wanted it to be done. This job was one of the unique ones in the fact that the clients had given him complete control of planning and method of execution. This laissez-faire approach taken by the clients was something that Jack really appreciated. While he never once complained about how controlling his clients were, inwardly, he never approved the loss of control. It was really refreshing being given the opportunity to formulate a solid and efficient plan that didn¡¯t entail satisfying some inane requirement that absolutely needed to be achieved. It was the first time in years that he had this opportunity and Jack was savoring the situation. At the same time, he was finding it a bit frustrating. After years of being a yes-man, he finally had the option to do whatever he liked, but it was irking him. The intel provided was thorough and painstakingly compiled together, yet so much of it was useless to him. There were certain parts in multiple reports talking about what the target wears and his favorite color and other unnecessary bits of information.If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. The compilation of the main points took a few hours and the clock had struck five before he knew it. It was already evening and he had skipped lunch in an effort to finish going over the intel. He had narrowed almost 200 intelligence reports down to a mere 10 pages of information that read much like a biography. His target¡¯s name was Abdul al Qatani. A world-renowned asshole with a penchant for trafficking in illegal goods. He had his fingers in every pie from drugs to guns and human trafficking. He was one of the central hubs of the black-market trafficking industry with nearly 20% of all illegal goods going through his numerous import/export businesses across the world. According to his biography, he had risen to power along with Saddam Hussein, helping him move personnel and materiel across borders to engage in the constant wars that Saddam waged against other nations. As Saddam took on more hardline stances against his people and their freedoms, Abdul was starting to get nervous. He knew that the American CIA definitely had information on him as he had never tried to stay anonymous. With the numerous atrocities that Saddam started committing against the people, al Qatani saw the writing on the wall and chose to run. A wise decision as it turned out. After the United States went in and cleaned house, the fledgling government that was put into power was starting to grow and desperately needed help. It was at that time that Abdul al Qatani so graciously crawled out of the woodwork to offer his services. Delighted, the government made many deals with him, usually asking for items such as food, water, generators and arms. In no time at all, al Qatani became the go-to guy for the Iraqi government, allowing him to succeed and expand even further than before. After being stabilized, the government started to ask less and less, depending on their own infrastructure instead of making use of Abdul¡¯s. As business slowly dried up, Abdul was desperate to find new sources of income. It was at this time that he found out the high profitability of the drug trade. He started with small quantities and made sure to be extremely cautious with his dealings. Due to his latent fears of the CIA coming for him, he started to take his anonymity more seriously when it came to his dealings. He started to appear less and less in public, choosing to use middlemen to keep himself as clean as possible. He used the profits from his drug trafficking to expand into weapons, providing arms to war torn nations and dictatorial regimes. From guns, he expanded to sex trafficking and prostitution. He lured many beautiful women from all around the world with fake modeling gigs and flew them out to exotic destinations. There he drugged and kidnapped them, often selling them for hundreds of thousands on online auctions. Interestingly, Jack found that after many years of keeping to himself, Abdul al Qatani was actually going to be showing up to personally ink a partnership with a former business competitor, Harold Cleft. While Cleft wasn¡¯t nearly as dirty as al Qatani, the Brit definitely had some deep connections in the black market and was known to be an acquisitions specialist. Word on the street was that there was nothing that Cleft couldn¡¯t find, for the right price of course. Jack had read up a bit about him and was disappointed that the client hadn¡¯t asked him to liquidate Cleft alongside al Qatani. It wasn¡¯t every day that these scumbags got together and it was a lovely opportunity to solve two problems with one bullet. Staring at a picture of Cleft, Jack sighed and told himself one day he would put Cleft down, however, today was not the day. According to the report, al Qatani and Cleft were meeting at Tiergarten, a public park in Germany. At nearly 210 hectares in size, Tiergarten is one of the perfect places for such a meeting to occur. With plenty of civilians to provide cover and heavily wooded areas, it was a very difficult to find a proper sniper perch. Let¡¯s go for a walk Jack decided as he got up. He would do some basic recon on possible rendezvous points and grab dinner outside. Moving over to his case, he removed a plain black Polo t-shirt and a pair of dark selvedge jeans. After switching his outfit, he unscrewed the suppressor on his pistol and placed it back into the foam cutout. Grabbing an extra magazine, he took out an appendix holster tucked beneath his clothing and clipped it firmly onto his pants. Closing his case and storing it under the bed, he inserted the pistol and extra mag into the holster. Donning a light jacket, he confirmed that he had his passport and wallet on him. On his way out the suite, he grabbed a toothpick from the coffee table and exited into the hallway. As he closed the door, he inserted the toothpick into the gap between the hinges and broke it off. Making his way downstairs, he left the hotel, stepping into a slightly chilly but pleasant Berlin weather. Dinner? Or recon first? Jack questioned as he made his way down the block. Update Hey Everyone, Just checking in. I apologize for the lack of updates. I started a new job last week and am working 8 hours every day. I come home tired and sore, lacking the energy to write. However, my manager just gave me the rest of the week off for my birthday and I''ll be using this time to put out at least 2 chapters. First chapter will come out tomorrow and the second will come out on Friday. I''m gonna try and experiment a little with flashbacks and the like to tell you more about Jack''s past. Look forward to it. See you tomorrow! The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement. Cheers, FanFicFanatic Chapter 4 Chapter 4 The air was bracing and slightly chilly as Jack made his way down the street. He walked at a moderate pace. Not too slow, not too fast. He blended into the crowd, going at a speed that allowed him to become just another face without standing out. A light smile decorated his face as he thought back to his training from The Company. Those guys were absolutely merciless and expected recruits to be quick on the uptake, or they would be wear them down physically and mentally until they gave up on their own accord. It was a spartan training regimen that helped create smart and effective counter-intelligence agents. The first time he had participated in the exercise had also been one of the first times he and his classmates had gotten out of The Farm. They were training with the instructors on how to properly tail a target, spotting a tail and shaking it off. They had yet to take the requisite defensive driving course, so they had to stick to walking. It had been a cold day in Williamsburg as they were pacing up and down the street trying to spot their target. He had been one of the first ones to spot him and had quickly followed to where the target was supposed to be going. The problem was that he had followed the target with such gusto that he had also been the first one to be spotted. The target had walked into an alley quite naturally and Jack had followed him, convinced that he would win the challenge and prove himself. He entered the alley and smoothly drew his pistol that he had concealed in his waistband. What he saw as he brought it up to his eyes, was emptiness. The target had simply vanished. Confused but vigilant, Jack stepped forward and started making his way through the alley. Trash was strewn across the floor and garbage cans lay rolled over, their contents littering their vicinity, giving off an unbearable stench. He started to slowly and methodically look through the numerous cover options available to try and find the target. He was clearing out the second to last spot when a sudden noise came from the spot in front. Startled, Jack quickly backed up a couple paces and tried to circle around to not be surprised by a weapon. A brown blur darted out between two trashcans opposite almost causing Jack to fire. He quickly realized that the noisemaker had been a brown alley cat. Chuckling, he said to the cat ¡°You scared me there, kitty¡±. Right as he finished, two sharp cracks issued from behind him. Pain overcame his other senses as the Simu-Rounds hit him square in the back. He dropped to the ground and swiveled back to see the target standing with his gun pointing at him. ¡°Tell me where you made your mistakes¡± the old man he was supposed to be tailing asked him. Still in pain, Jack glared at the man square in his eyes and all he could see was an icy, piercing coldness. The ruthless gaze that seemed to tell him about the sheer number of men who had died at the old man¡¯s hands. ¡°What? Cat got your tongue boy?¡± the old man sneered as he spoke. Composing himself and burying his anger, Jack replied ¡°I let myself get distracted¡±. ¡°That¡¯s not all you did boy. Hellen Keller could probably know you were following her with how stupidly you went about it. Remember, this isn¡¯t a job for Boy Scouts. The men you¡¯ll be chasing after and who¡¯ll chase after you will not give you a fair chance. They will do everything to kill you, so you have to be ready to do anything to survive. Life isn¡¯t fair. If you wanted honor, you should¡¯ve stayed in the Army.¡± ¡°Give me another chance, I know I can get it right¡±, Jack spoke with unwavering determination. ¡°Don¡¯t worry boy. You¡¯ll get several chances, but if you don¡¯t improve, I will personally make your life a living hell until you quit. Understand?¡± Yes, sir¡± Jack replied. He was confident that he would get it right the next time. The brief memory was interrupted by the sound of his stomach grumbling in protest. Slowing down his pace, Jack took out his smartphone and started looking for a restaurant or caf¨¦ near Tiergarten. Searching on Google, he came across a caf¨¦ called Caf¨¦ am Neuen See. It was in the heart of Tiergarten and had some nice seating options by the lake. Convenient Jack thought as he looked up the directions. If it was in the heart of the park, he could stroll around a bit and cover some possible meeting locations before having dinner. He started on his way to Tiergarten and decided to start at the southwestern end and work his way up. The reason he chose to do so was because people like al Qatani and Cleft obsessed about their security and safety. It was to be expected when they worked in such a dangerous and oftentimes lethal career. At the same time, they were also people who reveled in luxury. Al Qatani was particularly known for his fondness of the finer things in life. Whether it was booze, cars, planes, the man splurged on getting the best there was. Given this information, he would never give up such comforts to walk a couple kilometers to the meeting location, no matter how important it was. He would most likely either meet near one of the corners with direct access to the roads for proper transportation, or he would opt for something that allows him to drive to the meeting point and make a quick exit if necessary.The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there. With these points in mind, Jack started to slowly map possible escape routes out on the park directory he was looking at. Taking a quick picture, he started to walk down one of the main footpaths and while doing so, he was using the phone¡¯s stylus to draw his route. Finishing his first route, he made his way back to the entrance using a different route that had direct access to the main road. He repeated this a third time, taking a completely different route that could accommodate cars. Walking back the third time, he decided that it was time for dinner. Following the signs, he made his way towards the caf¨¦ in Tiergarten and arrived in 15 minutes. Looking at the bustling crowd in the restaurant and around the lake, it seemed to be popular with the locals. Entering the restaurant, he headed towards the front desk. Smiling, he asked in fluent, slightly accented German for a table. The lady behind the desk looked at Jack in surprise. She could tell that he was a tourist, by his clothes and overall demeanor, but when he started speaking in German, she started to doubt her first guess. Maybe he was visiting from a different part of Germany? Despite her internal conflict, she gave a polite and courteous smile telling Jack that there was a ten-minute wait. Jack didn¡¯t mind, and told her that he would wait for a table inside. Outside felt too exposed and he never liked being out in the open. It would be all too simple for a good sniper to get him from a distance and avoid any civilian casualties, if he even cared about that. Inside, while requiring him to be a lot quicker to react should something happen, gave him a slight semblance of safety from immediately dying. Shortly afterwards, a waitress called his name and asked him to follow her to the table. He followed her to a little secluded booth in the back. With all the couples around him, Jack guessed that this was probably an area meant to seat couples to have their romantic dinners. The candle lights and slightly dark surroundings made for a pleasant atmosphere that inhibited close conversation. The hushed whispers and clinks of utensils invaded his ears as they went from the raucous front area to this one. The waitress stopped and looked back at Jack, indicating that this was his table. Sitting down, he heard the waitress introducing herself. ¡°My name is Gisella and I will be your server for this evening. Is this your first time here?¡± ¡°How could you tell?¡±, Jack asked her. ¡°The way you looked around when you were walking with me. Drinking in all the sights and sounds. Only first timers would do that.¡± ¡°You got me there, Jack ruefully smiled. His training at The Company had been drilled into his head and there was no changing that. The moment he had walked in, he had started to map his options for egress and on the walk to the couples seating area, he had been on the lookout for possible hostiles. ¡°Would you like anything to drink?¡± Gisella asked him. ¡°Just some orange juice¡± he replied. ¡°One orange juice¡±, she mumbled to herself while writing down his order on her notepad. ¡°I¡¯ll get that for you right now. If you have any questions about the menu, just let me know¡±. ¡°Thank you¡±, Jack said as he smiled at her. He watched as she made her way into the crowd of restaurant goers and entered the kitchen. How to proceed? He mulled over this question while waiting for his orange juice. He had walked 3 routes and would walk a fourth on his way back, but the sheer size of the park made it impossible for him to map out every single route that was possible. He could simply look at a satellite image, but a satellite image couldn¡¯t capture the minute details of the terrain that would be necessary to have when planning his infil and exfil. As he was thinking, he noticed Gisella walking back to him with a glass of orange juice on a tray she held. Looking at her, Jack had an epiphany. Who would know the terrain better than someone who walked through park every day? Making a split-second decision, he collected himself and gave a warm smile in her direction. Time to turn on the charm. Plot Progression and Chapter Update Hey Everyone, It''s been a while since I''ve updated and there are a couple of reasons why. Firstly, I''ve been bogged down at work working for almost 50-60 hours a week and have been coming home and collapsing in bed. Secondly, with school on the horizon, I''ve been doing some studies to get a headstart on my classes so I do well and that''s taking up most of my time on the weekends. Finally, I''ve written almost 12 chapters worth of material each set of 4 containing a different plot of how the assassination goes. I''ve been struggling with fleshing out Jack''s short romance with Gisella as I want it to play some role in the future(little bit of a spoiler). I''ve found out just how hard it is to toe the line between just sexual content and full on 50 Shades of Gray style literary pornography. I pride my story on being chalk full of details that help with reader immersion, but I don''t want sex scenes to seem raunchy if you get what I''m saying. Ultimately, I''ll be making the decision on which plot to move forward with on the coming Monday and I will release all 4 chapters worth of the plot to complete the assassination and most of the fallout before Jack''s eventual reincarnation. I wanted to take some time to flesh out more of his past to give a sense of character that he''ll be going into the new world with. To do this, I will need to spend effort into research and will eventually get to writing everything down. School will be starting on the 21st and my schedule will become more erratic, but I feel that it should be possible to put out a chapter a week for about a month or so before it''ll become one every two weeks. So sorry for the slow updates, but I want to get things right here, so that I don''t mess up later on down the line. I''m a bit of a perfectionist, so bear with me. As always, thank you for your continued support and I''ll see you all next Monday.The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings. Cheers, FanFicFanatic The Story Must Go On Hello Dear Readers, It has been a long while since I last updated and I apologize for the extended, abrupt hiatus. Lots of things happened irl, mainly to do with me not getting into the major I wanted to in my college. This semester, I''ve completely switched my academic focus to a different field and am struggling to frantically catch up to my peers through an excessive amount of credit hours. The prerequisites are numerous and I''m taking as many of them as possible to make up for lost time. Also, I''m trying to apply for internships with almost no professional skill in the field, so you could probably imagine how that''s going. From the beginning of the semester, I''ve been under a lot of stress and haven''t gotten around to writing new chapters. Even on the weekends, I''ve been taking online courses to make up for my lack of knowledge. I''ve finally reached a comfortable equillibrium of work and study after a month and I''ve decided to set aside some time for the story on the weekends. However, that can only begin this coming Saturday, as I have multiple exams for my classes. After that, I''ll definitely give you guys 2 chapters minimum to make up for lost time. Thank you so much for your patience, and I promise you that those chapters will come out without fail. I''ve decided to make some changes to the plot, so look forward to it.Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation. Sincerely, FanFicFanatic Chapter 5 "Here is your orange juice. Are you ready to order?" Gisella asked him. "I''ve been perusing the menu for a while, but everything looks so delicious and I''m really not sure what I should get. Do you have any recommendations?" Jack asked her. He made sure to initiate and maintain clear eye contact as he asked for her opinion. Surprised, Gisella responded, "For the first timer, I would definitely recommend any of our pizzas along with a tall glass of Franziskaner Hefe-Weissbeer. The pizza''s are big and the beer complements the taste of the pizza sauce very well. "Then I guess that''s what I''ll order." Jack smiled as he spoke. "What kind of pizza would you like? We have a decent variety of toppings that you can choose from." Gisella outlined the main pizzas on the menu, thinking that Jack couldn''t read the German well. Jack smirked at the menu and then turned around and spoke to Gisella in fluent German."Don''t worry. I can read the menu properly" Gisella was even more surprised this time. This customer was definitely interesting. Unknowingly, she had made the same mistake as the hostess in the front. Judging by his clothes, the man in front of her seemed to be a tourist, so she had made an effort to interact with him in English. When he was ordering, she initially thought that he couldn''t decide because of the menu being in German. However, it turned out that he could perfectly read and speak in German, causing her to be a little embarrassed at her mistake. Blushing slightly, she switched to German and remarked "Your German is very good for a tourist Mr...? "Devereaux. Jack Devereaux. It''s my first time in Germany and I''ve been wanting to visit for a long time." "Oh, so that''s how it is. Did you come to do some sightseeing in Berlin? We have some of the best torist attractions in all of Germany." "No. Sadly, I came here for a business trip and I''ll have to go back home once my work here is done." Her curiosity seemingly satisfied. Gisella gave him a refreshing smile and said "Well we are happy that you chose to come to the Cafe am Neuen See during your visit. Have you selected the pizza you will be having?" "Not yet. You know what? Why don''t you decide which pizza to give me?" "Excuse me?", Gisella was confused by his request and looked at him weirdly. "What I mean is, you obviously know the best pizza to go with the beer you recommended. So I''ll defer the judgement to you." "You are asking me to chose which pizza you order?", Gisella seemed to have gotten his request. "Exactly. Are you okay with that?" Jack asked as he looked directly into her eyes, showing concern over whether he was asking too much of her. "Oh, no, I was just a bit surprised that you would ask me to choose. Most customers would never trust me enough to give me the power to make that kind of decision." "Well, I can''t say what it is about you Gisella, but you have the eyes of a good person. You look like someone that is trustworthy and reliable." "Really? You can trust someone just by looking at their eyes?" "It''s a skill I picked up along the years in my line of work. It has helped me succeed many times before." "And what exactly is it that you do, Mr. Devereaux?" Gisella had been sucked into a conversation and what had started as a simple request that surprised her had captured her interest. What was it about this man that was so mysterious? She couldn''t put it into words, but if she had to, she would say it had to be charisma. Some people just had a magnetic personality that made you want to be around them. She had never remembered talking so much with any customer, apart from a greeting and the regular interactions that one would expect. It helped that the man before her was relatively good looking. He had a lean build, but he wasn''t by any means weak looking. While his muscles didn''t bulge beneath his jacket, one could definitely notice that he had them. His jet black hair contrasted well with his wheatish complexion and he had piercing set of icy blue eyes that seemed like they could see right through her. Then there was the way he moved. When she had seen him walking towards the table, he had moved with a confident, athletic grace that she couldn''t fully comprehend. Most tourists shuffled their feet awkwardly as they navigated their way through the bustling atmosphere, but not him. With small controlled movements coupled alongside that confident stride of his, he seemed like he had been here a thousand times before. With that intriguing personality of his and that unorthodox request, she was curious and wanted to know more about him. "I''m in sales." Jack replied while lightly smiling at her. "Sometimes, the best way to realize if a customer is going to buy your product is to look them straight in the eyes and understand their intentions. As the old saying goes, the eyes are the windows to the soul." "Really? And how does my soul look like to you Mr. Devereaux?" Gisella playfully asked him. "You? Well, let me see." He said as he looked in her direction. Jack''s play was to act as his favorite fictional character, James Bond. While unrealistic with his various interactions with women across the different movies, one thing had stayed with Jack for the longest time. It was a lesson that he also learned back in The Company''s "charm school", where he was taught about the different methods to seduce targets. Women ultimately loved mystery, so the best way to quickly build up an image in a women''s heart was to plant the seed of curiosity and string her along by satisfying her questions and assuaging her doubts one by one until you had her undivided attention. Acting as an international man of mystery, while slightly childish, had its merits for a quick and dirty play. It was not suitable for long term interactions where he needed to build a long-lasting relationship of love and trust before he could achieve his objective. This was precisely why he had chosen such a play with Gisella. For someone he was only going to mine short-term intel from, it was okay to exploit such a basic and inconsequential form of attraction. This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report. Feigning deep thought, Jack focused on her face. It was a lovely face, to be honest. Her proportions were not the standard for a German woman, but it undoubtedly fit in with the rest of the populace. Her skin looked smooth and her complexion showed a brightness that looked very attractive to him. Her body was well proportioned and curvy in all the right places. Her arms had definition to them, which would be inline with her profession, seeing as she carried trays with heavy plates on them all day long. All in all, she was a gorgeous woman and this was also part of the reason why Jack had chosen her as a target. Beautiful women often got passes to do and say things that regular women couldn''t. He had seen his fair share of female intelligence operatives who were fully capable of using their good looks to wheedle out intel from unsuspecting targets. They could ask questions and get into places that average looking women not mention men almost certainly couldn''t. "Your soul is very pure and beautiful. You look like someone who works hard and earns respect among your friends and family. No matter the task, you put 100% of your effort and make sure to complete it to the best of your abilities. You are sweet and friendly to others, choosing not engage in gossip. You are very loved by everyone around you, yet something seems to be wrong. You don''t seem satisfied with your life and I feel as if there is a problem that you are trying your best to hide." As he spoke, Gisella''s face had gone from smiling to a more neutral expression, to shocked. Her eyes slowly widening at how accurate the man''s description of her was. In fact, it was so accurate that it was a little scary how much he could tell from just her eyes. Of course Jack wasn''t simply looking at her eyes. He was looking at her face in a way that made her think he was looking only at her eyes. What he was doing was an old trick called cold reading. It was trick he had learned from a Romani Gypsy while operating in Eastern Europe. The old woman had called out to him in a crowded street and he had initially ignored her. To his surprise, she had insisted that he come and sit down before her, for he was in grave danger. He didn''t believe in psychics any more than he believed the United States government was housing aliens in Area 51, but for whatever reason, he was interested in what she had to say. In his line of work, many had their own individual superstitions. While some of them stemmed from universal ones that many adhered to, like not opening an umbrella inside or crossing under a ladder, there were also several cultural superstitions that were also adhered to by operatives of diverse backgrounds. For example, there was a famed British assassin who had been stalking a target for days and was about to take the shot when he saw a black cat cross his path in his rifle scope. Spooked, he had immediately taken his finger of the trigger and tucked away his rifle. He chose to drive away for about a km and then rushed out of his car to touch a tree on the side of the road. His target had gotten away and his employers were furious, but he ended up taking the job again and finishing it on his second attempt. Nonetheless, that slightly exagerrated reaction had proved that despite their line of work, it was true for everyone to follow certain superstitions to improve the chances of success, like lucky items or articles of clothing. Jack had no such reservations, nor did he intend to react in such a manner. The precise timing of the old woman''s words piqued his curiosity. Walking over to her, he chose to take on the guise of a tourist who didn''t know any better. "Were you talking to me, Ms.?" He politely inquired while staring at the lady across the table. "Yes. The spirits warned me as you were walking by that you would be in terrible danger should you continue on your path.", she said in a deep and ominous sounding voice. "The only thing that can help you now is to give an offering to the spirits so I can channel their energy and read your future." Jack looked at the woman with a shocked face. Inwardly, he was snickering at how amateurish she was at drawing him in and making him lower his guard, but he nonetheless went along with her little play. "Oh my God. What do you need Ms. Fortune Teller? Will this much do?" He asked with a shaking voice while holding out some bills in his hand. "Of course, dear child. The spirits will be very pleased with your offering and your sincerity to know your destiny." the old woman smiled at him and quickly snatched the bills from his hand. "Oh thank you so much Ms.! You have no idea how scared I am!" Jack exclaimed while shivering. "Come and take my hands, child. Let us take a peek into what the universe has in store for you." the fortune teller said as she closed her eyes, seemingly in deep concentration Sitting down into the antiquated and slightly uncomfortable wooden chair across from her, Jack reached out with both his hands and took her hand into his. Well this ought to be good, he thought as he waited for the fortune teller''s "prophecy". Im Back! Hello Everyone, I just wanted to apologize for not keeping you updated on how things are going. I was in a very bad position academically and I desperately needed to rescue my GPA to get admittance into my university''s school of business. I''m proud to say that after months of hard work and focus, I was accepted into the program of my choice. To accomplish this task, I had to let everyone of my hobbies from gaming to writing this novel fall to the wayside to completely devote my time and energy to my future. Now that I''ve gotten past this hurdle, it will be much easier for me to update the story. I''m coming at it with a fresh perspective and will try to establish a set release schedule to keep you guys enjoying this story. I personally love writing this novel and I hope that the attention to detail and the plot will keep you engaged throughout this year. Thank you for all your patience and support. I look forward to having a great year together with you. 2018 is going to be an amazing year! If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement. Sincerely, FanFicFanatic