The Hit

“You won’t get your opportunity until his force field drops.” The audio comes through as a crackling whisper in the near-invisible earpiece. “He’s a true believer. Won’t wipe his nose without permission.”

“Everyone’s force field drops at some point; it doesn’t take much. The problem’s gonna be regen.”

“For petty crime, force field regeneration completes two seconds after redress. Window’s small, so be quick. The guy's a powerful symbol for the Corporation. The client wants visual confirmation.”

“Understood. Target in sight and closing. Confirmation upon completion.”

Overtaking the target takes moments. “Good evening, sir.”

“Good evening to you, sir. Fine night we’re having, yes?”

“Bit humid, but the mist looks nice, swirling through the light, don’t you agree? Dear me, I do apologize for interrupting your meal.”

“No, no, you’re not interrupting anything. I’ve finished and good conversation is always welcome.”

“Thank you. It looks like your meal was quite good. But...sorry...but there appears to be a rather large bug on that napkin in your hand.”

“What? What? Oh, dear!” The target dances about a bit as he throws the napkin to the ground. A brief flare of shimmery light and a faint chime announce the loss of his force field.

“How clumsy of me. I’d better put that in the bin. Littering is against the law, you know.” The target stoops, leans forward, and reaches to pick up the discarded napkin.

The assassin’s palm covers the back of the target’s neck. The presser syringe sends the toxin into the bloodstream to complete its deadly mission.

A quick snapshot of the slumped body captured via the wrist unit and the confirmation is on its way to the client. Nothing left but the gasps of shock and cries for help as the assassin disappears in a swirl of mist and light.