The tattooed man leaned out from the shadows of the alley. He could see where the workers were setting up the podium and stands. The news reported that there would be a record turn out of for the Mayor’s announcement. It was the announcement that was a big secret. The tattooed man had an idea, but he had a job to do.
As the tattooed man blended back into the shadows, he looked at the top of the building he leaned against. “This will be the spot,” he said in a low voice then nodded to no one.
The sound of a struggle grabbed his attention. Diagonally across the street a dark clad youth dragged a business dressed young woman into dark spot between two buildings.
The tattooed man pulled out a large pistol and stepped back. He thumbed a button on the side, viewed the green LED, aimed, then squeezed the trigger. The projectile exited the muzzle, cleared the distance, then connected with the young thug’s forehead. The thug’s head rocked back, smacking into the cement wall of the unmoving building. The dark clad youth lost consciousness and dropped, leaving the young woman to wonder what happened. Gathering her faculties, she ran from the scene.
“Hopefully no cops with that,” the man said and exited his hiding spot. A sideways glance told him the dart he fired dissolved into mist. Concealing his weapon in the flowing folds of his long coat, the tattooed man walked away.
The tattooed man walked several blocks, turned left, crossed the street, then walked several more blocks. He spotted a middle-aged man dashing up to a parked Jaguar, the tattooed man paused in his walk. The middle-aged man smashed the driver’s side window of the high end luxury car and opened the door. The tattooed man let out a long breath and glanced about.
In the blink of an eye his specialized weapon was in his hand. He squeezed the grip, thumbed the button twice, and aimed over the blue LED on the sights. The projectile zipped over to the robber and made a puffing sound. Thick, white foam encased the robber from knees to feet and held him in place on the luxury car door. Caught unaware the robber jerked, but did nothing more than draw attention to himself. Several people pulled cell phones out and took pictures or videos. A few even called the police.
The tattooed man holstered his device and whistled to himself as he continued on his way. By the time he rounded the corner, a policemen had pulled up and were interrogating the robber.
“That will clear up easy enough,” the tattooed man said as he hit shaded area.
The tattooed man stopped at a café and nibbled on a sandwich and sipped his drink. When his plate was cleared, he glanced at his watch and departed. His journey would complete the circuit he had started earlier and bring him back to the first alley.
Several paces into the dark passageway, he scaled up the wall and strolled over the roof. Reaching the low wall around the ledge, he sat with his back against the wall. After a glance at his watch, he closed his eyes and dozed off.
The triple beeping noise from his watch, woke the tattooed man with a jolt. Rubbing his face, he looked around, then shifted to his knees. The sound of applause pulled his head to the crowd surrounding the podium. He saw signs that read Re-Elect Jasper for Mayor. There were even a few for advertisers and contributors.
Smacking his lips, the tattooed man scanned the crowd, then the neighboring rooftops. To his left, two buildings over, he spotted another head poking up over a low wall. Protruding from under the chin was a long thin object. The tattooed man recognized this for what it was. An assassin.
The tattooed man aimed his customized weapon at the assassin, thumbed the side button turning the LED green, and squeezed the trigger. Before his eye could finish blinking, the head disappeared from the wall and the thin object with it.
“He should know better,” the tattooed man muttered.
Redirecting his piercing eyes to the crowd in the stands across the street, the tattooed man zeroed in on the person walking to the podium.
Over the loudspeakers came, “And now, my friend and yours. His Honor Christopher Davis.” The sound of the announcer bounced from wall to wall of the surrounding buildings. A man, passed middle age, stepped up to the stage and approached the podium. He waved, smiled and shook hands. He straightened his jacket and shirt sleeves before grabbing the podium edges.
Leaning in the microphone, Christopher Davis said, “Ladies and gentlemen.”
The tattooed man aimed his weapon. He did not thumb the side button and noted the red LED light below the sights.
Christopher’s amplified voice rang out, “I would like to take this time to announce,” he paused for a breath and to build excitement.
The projectile traveled the distance to the target. Connection was made when Christopher inhaled to complete his sentence. This sentence would never be completed.
The tattooed man muttered as he moved to the backside of the building he shot from, “If they could see what I see, I would be a hero. Instead, I am treated like a villain. So be it.”
A woman in the wings dropped to the floor and several people around her screamed. Christopher looked at the commotion. Several police officers swarmed the podium and moved Christopher through the crowd with their weapons drawn. After several yards, they shoved him into a sedan and sped away.
On the roof, the tattooed man stared at a handheld digital display. An image of a news post flashed across the screen. Remaining population of Earth the 100,000 threshold of survival. The image morphed and became fuzzy. It was replaced with Mars orbital space station fully functioning. The tattooed man thumbed the article and the text was displayed. The smile spread across the tattooed man’s face.
“Who would have thought that an intern working at this level would have sparked an international incident that would destroy the planet.” Placing his digital device back inside his jacket and holstering his specialty weapon, the man tapped a button on his belt buckle. A chime sounded and the man disappeared.