It was as clear a night as any, not a cloud in the sky and the moon as full as it had ever been. The calmest of breezes was rustling the leaves of the nearby trees like feathers on a fowl. Despite the seeming tranquility of the evening, life itself was hanging by a thread. Mr. Kirkland didn’t realize it yet, but the cloaked figure slipping in and out of the shadows behind him was not on a mission of protection.
Michael Morgan is a man of many distinctions; however, even those closest to him would never believe that he was in the business of killing. Growing up in the big city he never imagined this line of work for himself either, but after serving in the army special forces for several tours he realized that he was quite the efficient killing machine. Some might dare say, that after his service he was a different man, but noone could have forseen just how different a man he would become.
It wasn’t simply the fact that he was a highly trained killer that led him to this life. His wife and two children were killed in a horrible car accident nearly seventeen years ago. Shortly after that devastating loss, with no family ties to hold on to, he received his first job offer. The target, Jason Beck, was a low level political aide who was conducting business with known terrorists. Michael used the targets un-patriotic character to justify the job in his own mind, but after a dozen or so jobs he began to realize that all he was doing was making excuses. Unfortunately, once one gets into this line of work it becomes ever more difficult to climb back out and resume what most consider to be a normal life. Eventually, Michael Morgan accepted who he had become and decided to make every effort to be the deadliest assassin money could buy.
Just five more blocks, Michael quietly thought to himself, Five more blocks and I’ll have this job wrapped up. Mr. Kirkland, an otherwise upstanding jewel merchant, had made a few too many bad business connections and had accrued quite a price on his head. “$250,000 closer to retirement after this one, Mike”, Morgan whispered to himself. Had Mr. Kirkland but known of the impending danger keeping pace with his every step, he might have varied from his usual routine this night. Fortunately for Michael though, Mr. Kirkland was completely oblivious to his presence and made his normal stop at the corner store for some coffee and a newspaper. This gave Michael all the time he required to move into position further ahead of the target and wait in the shadows for him to pass by.
As Mr. Kirkland crossed the last street he would ever step foot on, Michael pulled out the needle he was planning to finish the job with. As the target put one foot in the shadow Michael was now crouched in, he pulled back the handle of the syringe filling the tube with air. As Mr. Kirkland completely immersed himself within the darkness, Michael sprung into action. It was over in a matter of seconds, the needle in and out, feeling like nothing more than a late night bug stopping for a bite. Except for the air bubble that was now inside Mr. Kirkland’s vein and racing from his neck to his heart. Moments later he collapsed, spilling his coffee all over the sidewalk, but he was no longer able to worry about such things. He was dead. Michael knew he could leave the body where it was, nobody would think there was any cause of death other than a simple heart attack, but it didn’t matter either way because he was already on his way down the street by the time the body hit the ground.
I started writing this in the hopes of expounding on this piece to eventually make an entire novel on the activities of Michael Morgan.