Taking My Leave

A man in a well lit room, whistling an upbeat tune. He looks pleased with himself, like he did something he’s been waiting to do for a long time. He’s cleaning a knife. He puts away the knife, and starts walking out of the room.
“Another successful mission,” he said to himself.
He stopped, nudged a dead body out of his way with his foot, then continued walking out. He stopped in front of the door, pulled out a pistol, brought it across his body like he was checking his heart with it, and then opened the door.
A guard is standing just outside the door. He’s keeping watch of everyone that walks past, looking for any of them that could be a threat to his client. The door starts to open, and the guard prepared to escort his client out of the building.

*BANG*

The man walked out, his pistol smoking. The guard, like a stone, dropped to the floor. The man looked at the guard, then looked at his own blood stained attire.
“A change of clothes does a man good.”
The man, wearing the guard's clothes, checked the hall. There was no one else. He holstered the pistol, and checked the pockets of his new outfit. He ate the last of the gum, and emptied the money out of the wallet before returning it to the body.
“They need some way of identifying you,”
The man left the building, walking past people as if nothing had happened