December 20th, 2026.
"Looks like I will have to make contact with him directly," Ghost muttered under his breath. He was sitting in one of the alfresco dining rooms on the High Street avenue with a clear view of the PSE tower in front of him.
There, at the skyscraper, is where Michael's office was located, and where he is currently at. This time, he wouldn't have to set up in a skyscraper with a clear vantage point of the building. He didn't want to repeat the mistake that still haunted him from the last failed attempt. Instead, his new plan required a more direct approach.
Ghost checked his watch, timing the routines he had observed over the past few days. Michael's habits had become predictable after he watched the CEO's movements, thanks to a mix of physical surveillance and digital tracking. The key was the timing; Michael often stepped out for a mid-afternoon coffee at a nearby café, accompanied only by a small security detail that Ghost knew how to evade.
With a calm that belied his intense focus, Ghost reviewed the items discreetly concealed within his jacket: a silenced pistol, a backup knife, and a change of clothes for a quick disappearance post-action.
He knew the streets would be bustling with holiday shoppers and tourists, perfect for melting away into the crowd post-incident. His eyes shifted from the tower to the street, noting potential escape routes and calculating movements. It wasn't just about the kill – it was about getting away without a trace.
Thirty minutes later, there he saw Michael stepping out of the main entrance of the building and making his way down to the High Street Avenue. Ghost's heart rate increased slightly—not from nerves, but from the heightened sense of purpose that came with being so close to his target.
He adjusted his jacket, ensuring the pistol was within easy reach, and started to make his way through the crowd, his eyes locked on Michael's back.
Michael, seemingly unaware of the danger, continued his casual stroll towards the café, flanked by two members of his new security detail. They were alert but unobtrusive. Ghost noted their relaxed demeanor, likely confident in their routine, unaware of the new threat approaching.
As he closed the distance, Ghost slipped through the groups of people. He had memorized the layout of this area during his surveillance—every alleyway, every shop entrance, every potential bottleneck where he could execute his plan and escape without drawing immediate attention.
Approaching a narrow side street, Ghost took a deep breath and readied himself. This was the moment—just a few more steps and he would be within striking distance. He watched as Michael paused to greet someone, his security momentarily distracted by a group of street performers nearby.
Seizing the moment, Ghost quickened his pace, his hand inching towards the concealed weapon. He could almost feel the cold metal against his fingers when suddenly something prodded him on his back.
"If I give you the information, how do I know you'll keep your end of the deal?"
"We're professionals," the man responded. "We ensure the safety of our client, not engage in unnecessary killings. Helping us could significantly lower your risks with your current employer because we might go after them if ordered."
Ghost considered his next words carefully. He knew his position was compromised, and his employer's wrath would be far worse than any deal he could make with this operative.
"Alright. The person who hired me goes by the name Wei. He is the CEO of CinkoSolar, a giant photovoltaic company based in Beijing China. He sees Michael Reyes's photovoltaic company as a threat and therefore wants him eliminated."
The man nodded in acknowledgment and seemed to make a mental note of the information provided by Ghost.
"Thank you for your cooperation," he said, but his tone shifted suddenly, becoming colder.
"But here's the thing," the man continued, his expression turning serious as he repositioned the gun, pointing it directly at Ghost.
"I was ordered by Michael Reyes not just to neutralize the threat but to eliminate it entirely."
Ghost's confusion turned to alarm. "Wait, what about the deal?" he stammered, his eyes darting around for any possible escape route.
"Sorry," the man said, his voice devoid of emotion. "It's a harsh lesson, but in this game, it's better not to trust so easily, especially not someone like me so quickly." Without further hesitation, he pulled the trigger.
Ghost barely had time to react. The impact of the bullet sent him staggering back against the alley wall, his vision blurring as he slumped to the ground, the cold reality of his end settling in as his consciousness faded.
The man stood over Ghost for a moment, ensuring there was no sign of life before tucking his weapon away. He glanced around to make sure their interaction had not been observed, then calmly walked back towards the bustling street, disappearing into the crowd as if nothing had happened.