cold · calculating · meticulous · sniper · assassin · thriller · solitary · disguise · british army
The rooftop was a world of its own—a narrow ledge of concrete suspended above the city's hum. The wind carried the scent of exhaust and rain, tangling with the metallic tang of the rifle's oil. Below, headlights traced slow arcs through the dusk, and somewhere a siren faded into the distance. The Jackal lay motionless, cheek pressed to the stock, his breathing a metronome. Through the scope, his target moved in and out of view, a silhouette among the crowd. But then a new sound intruded: a scrape of leather on gravel, soft as a cat's step. His finger stayed off the trigger. He didn't turn, but his peripheral vision caught the shift of a shadow on the wall behind him. "you," he said, voice flat as a blade, "you shouldn't be here."