Chapter 47: In the Crosshairs

As Ezra sipped his coffee, lost in thought, a voice broke through the din of the cafe.

"Lovely day, isn't it?" The voice belonged to an elderly man who was standing beside him, his weathered face creased with age. Ezra turned to regard him, offering a small nod in response.

"Indeed it is," Ezra replied, surprised by the sudden intrusion.

"Mind if I join you?" the old man asked, gesturing to the empty stool beside Ezra. Without waiting for a response, he settled himself onto the seat, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Name's Albert," he said, extending a hand in greeting.

"Ezra," Ezra replied, shaking the old man's hand with a sense of cautious curiosity.

"You know, young man," Albert said, his voice gentle, "no matter how bad it is, things will get better."

"What?" Ezra raised a brow in confusion.

"Life is like a river. Ever flowing, ever changing. We may not always know where it will take us, but we must trust in its currents and embrace the journey with open arms."

"Err.... okay." Ezra nodded, his confusion increasing. What's going on?

The man nodded sagely like he had just passed on an incredible nugget of wisdom. He patted Ezra on the back. "Don't give up, son."

What part of me looked like it wanted to give up? He glanced down at himself. Is the man alright? seaʀᴄh thё NôᴠeFire.ηet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

The man turned back to order his own meal and Ezra sat trying to figure out if he had been unconsciously emitting an Aura because he didn't understand what was going on. He shrugged and turned back to people watching.

As the morning wore on and the cafe began to fill with the lunchtime rush, Ezra realized that it was time for him to leave. It was almost time for Olivia's morning routine of phone calls.

He bid farewell to Albert, his day out giving him the peace he had been searching for, and made his way back to his hovercar.

As he drove through the bustling streets of the city, Ezra couldn't shake the feeling that he was missing something and it wasn't his glasses this time. It was like he had an itch on his fourth arm. He wanted to scratch it but didn't have a fourth arm. It was an unsettling feeling.

As Ezra parked his hovercar outside his apartment building and stepped out onto the sidewalk, he felt a tingle and ducked, not knowing why. He heard something whizz silently above his head and looked around in confusion. What was that?

********

The sniper perched high above the city, his gaze fixed through the scope of his rifle. His target had been lucky earlier, slipping away from his deadly aim just as he had been about to take the shot.

He sat there, watching the penthouse for any movement. "You won't be so lucky this time," he muttered to himself, adjusting his grip on the rifle.

From his vantage point, the sniper watched as his target slipped past the window, too fast for him to take aim. The target looked Ike he was dressed up for a day out.

He watched the window for any sign of the target before his instincts made him watch the entrance of the apartment building. He caught sight of the target on the street, clad in sunglasses and a dark coat.

He cursed under his breath as the man slipped into his car, an old yet functioning vehicle that blended into the city's traffic.

The sniper's eyes narrowed. "Let's see where you go," he whispered, packing up his gear quickly, his movements precise and efficient.

He knew needed to stay close, to find another opportunity to strike. Moving swiftly, he descended from the rooftop, slipping into his own car. He had been careful to attach a tracker to the target's hovercar earlier, ensuring he would not lose his target. "Got you covered," he muttered, glancing at the tracker screen as he pulled out into traffic.

Keeping a careful distance, the sniper's eyes never strayed from the map displaying the car. The city thrummed with life around him. Cars honked, pedestrians walked, and the chatter of countless conversations created a constant hum. The sniper tuned it all out, his focus solely on his target.

He followed as the target parked in front of a small café. He watched him enter, taking a seat at the counter.

The sniper parked nearby and positioned himself across the street, taking up a spot where he could observe without being noticed. Through the large windows, he watched the target order a coffee and sit, seemingly lost in thought.

"For a dead man, you sure are calm," he murmured, considering the angle. For a brief moment, the sniper thought about taking the shot then and there, but the angle was wrong, and too many civilians were nearby. He couldn't risk collateral damage. "Not now," he sighed, watching as the target chatted with an old man, the conversation appearing light-hearted and innocent.

As the target finished his coffee and got back into his car, the sniper resumed his pursuit. He followed as they took a familiar route until he realized that target was heading back home.

"Time to set up," he said, accelerating to get ahead. He sped to a nearby high-rise and climbed it quickly. He set up his position, waiting for his paycheck to appear.

The target soon appeared and parked on the sidewalk. Just as he stepped out and paused, the sniper took his shot. "Goodbye, motherfucker," he muttered, squeezing the trigger.

And at that moment, the target stumbled, and the bullet missed him. The sniper wasted a second in shock. "What the hell?" he growled, targeting him again. Before he could shoot, the slipped inside the building.

Determined not to let his target escape again, the sniper focused on the open windows of the target's penthouse apartment, his mind racing with plans and contingencies. "I'll get you, no matter what," he vowed, adjusting his scope.

This was not the end of the world. He would find another chance, another moment when the target would be vulnerable.

He knew one thing for certain. He would not rest until his mission was complete, until the target was no longer a cheque he couldn't cash, but a name crossed off his list. "You can't hide forever," he whispered, his gaze never wavering from the penthouse.

The hunt would continue.