Previous Story: From the Water's Womb
“Pa,” said Hosh, “I’m submitting a story called 'Assassin', for my College magazine again this year."
"Can you read and check it please, before you go to Office?”
“Sure,” said Rosh, as he walked down the steps and took the printed sheet.
Hosh hugged him and together they sat down on the sofa and read…
Not a sound was heard as she crept up the steps to the tenth floor of the dilapidated building. The sky was clear, but the sun was dying.
She set up her telescopic rifle on the sturdy tripod in the bare room by the broken window.
Her casual attire hugged her smooth and elegant body as she peered through the cross hairs and concentrated. She attached the silencer and adjusted the aim to account for the divergence caused by the silencer.
She clipped the transmitter to the mechanical hand that would press the trigger and control the rifle’s zoom and lateral movements. She tested it again. Satisfied, she descended the steps, and stepped into the deserted street.
Keeping her head low, and never looking up, she walked the two blocks to the Theatre basement garage where her car was parked. She got in, peeled off her face mask and disguise, and put it in the acid canister that sat below the passenger seat in her car.
Changing quickly into a dark business suit, she shredded off her casuals into pieces before feeding them also to the voracious canister. Out of the car in less than two minutes after having climbed in, she drained the acid in the storm water drain and disposed of the canister in the basement junkyard.
Then she climbed back in her car, signed into her iPad and ran her garage script one final time. It instantaneously hacked into the garage CCTV server, paused its unmanned recording, deleted the last three minutes of footage and created an i-movie by repeating the screenshot before the edit-out.
It then restarted the recordings, logged out and deleted its footprint from the registry of the CCTV server and her own iPad. She deleted the script from her iPad and drove out to the Xucorp Complex.
The meeting would be starting in one hour. As she rode the elevator alone in the gleaming Xucorp Main building, she checked her facial expressions in the little vanity mirror she always carried in her purse.
'Everything on schedule?' she spoke to herself in the mirror. She sounded her usual confident self.
Committed now, she waited for the elevator to come to a stop on the tenth floor.
“Everything on schedule?” she asked smilingly, as she walked past her secretary towards the Boardroom.
“Yes ma’am,” her secretary replied.
She nodded pleasantly at Mark, the C.E.O, as she took her seat on his left. She opened her laptop and typed in her Deputy C.E.O. authorization codes. Information about the billion-dollar project began dancing on her screen.
She opened another program on her screen and watched with satisfaction as Mark’s head filled up the little window. It would be perfect. Technology would ensure that, despite the distance and other difficulties. One shot. Clean kill.
They were soon joined by the rest of the project team and the client. It was time. Everyone exchanged greetings and took their seats around the conference table. Lights were turned down. Her presentation began.
Her laptop projected charts and pictures on to the projector screen as she spoke. She cascaded the project window on her screen and activated the little window. No adjustment was needed. She pressed Enter.
A bullet journeyed to its destination. There was no sound, but blood appeared in the little window. She pressed Delete. The window closed instantly and the program self-destructed.
Far away in the dilapidated room, acid exploded from the tripod base, damaging everything along with the rifle. In the Boardroom where she sat, Mark’s lifeless head hit the table with a dull thud. Then, there was chaos.
On cue, she shuddered for the benefit of Boardroom CCTV cameras, looking as shocked at the sight of actual blood, as the others. She knew the camera footage would be viewed and analyzed thousands of times in NYPD and Interpol offices across multiple countries.
Forensic programs, trained animals and specialized detectives would be intensively scanning and extensively sniffing from Earth and Sky over the next month. Mark's exit would stir up the hornet's nest, as the company stock plunged and the greatest manhunt in the history of New York began.
Detectives arrived soon and the investigations began. She sagged, knowing it was going to be a long night.
“A bloody mess!” muttered the chairman as he was leaving.
He looked at her and asked, “Have we lost the project now?”
“Not as long as I live,” she replied tiredly.
“The Board will confirm you as C.E.O. tomorrow. Call the Press Conference before New York Stock Exchange opens. I've got Legal working on Media Releases already."
He walked out to go home and get a couple of hours of shut-eye. A new day had begun.
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