What?! Two posts in two days?! Yep, I was pretty anxious to share with you guys a new story!
Hope
The man walked briskly up the fire escape to the top floor of the abandoned building. He had a schedule to keep. He slid through an open window into an empty room. He walked over to another window on the opposite wall and crouched down. He sat down a briefcase he was carrying and unlatched it. Inside sat a sniper rifle that was broken down into individual sections. He pulled each piece out carefully and clasped them together. He leaned the large rifle against the wall and pulled out his phone. He pulled up a page with all the information he needed about his mission. Her name was Hope Banks, a CIA agent. He studied her picture closely. He didn’t want to slip up. He set his phone down and pulled out a pair of binoculars. He peered out the window at the scenery. An empty bench sat serenely against the crisp river backdrop. That’s where she would be.
At exactly two PM sharp, the woman appeared and sat down on the bench. The man gripped the sniper rifle with his gloved hands and propped his stubble-covered cheek against the stock. He shoved a magazine up into the rifle. He pulled the bolt back, and then pushed it forward, locking a round in the chamber. He looked down the scope and balanced himself. He gently moved the crosshairs over the woman’s head and held his breath.
Meanwhile, Hope Banks sat on her bench with her legs crossed. She had just picked up a novel from the store, and was anxious to read it. She reached down into her bag, when something caught her eye. Something subtle, yet a familiar sight. She slowly moved back from the bag and sat straight up. She noticed a glint of light, the sun was reflecting off of something. She located the small flare of light and stared right at it. She knew she was in someone’s sights.
The man’s eyes grew wide. She knew what was about to happen. Normally, when the target sees you, you run and the mission is considered as a failure. But all he had to do was pull the trigger…
His finger hovered over the trigger and gently started pulling it back. Right before he reached the firing point, he stopped. He had done this many times before, what stopped him this time? She continued to stare at him and slowly mouthed, “Just do it…” The man pulled his finger away from the trigger. No, he couldn’t do it. He would not go down that road again… He pulled the gun in from the window and let it fall to the ground. The woman relaxed. She reached down and pulled the book out of her bag and started reading.
The man sat against the wall in his sniping position. He felt a mixture of emotions he had never felt before. Guilt, remorse, anger. Amidst his negative feelings, he clung to a feeling that he had never felt before – hope. He packed the gun up and started making his way down to street level. He entered an alley and tossed the briefcase into a dumpster. He kept on walking through the alley. He stopped just short of the entrance. He looked out at the woman named Hope. She sat there peacefully reading despite everything that just happened. He didn’t realize how beautiful she was until then. He stood and watched for what seemed like hours. She eventually put her book away and started making her way towards the alley.
He frantically found a shadowy corner and concealed himself. She entered the alley and started to make her way down. The man peaked around a corner and watched her. He slipped and accidently kicked a tin can. The woman stopped short halfway down the alley.
“You’re him, aren’t you?” the woman said.
The man stayed where he was silently.
“Come out. I know you’re there,” she said in a commanding tone.
The man crept out of his corner until he was in full view. She turned around and looked at him.
“Why didn’t you kill me? You had a perfect shot with a T-12 sniper rifle with a 20x scope. You couldn’t have missed,” she continued.
The man stared blankly at her.
“I know who you are. You’re Geoffrey Mattson, infamous bounty hunter and assassin. You always get your prey,” she spoke up again. “I’m going to ask you again, why didn’t you kill me?”
“You were different,” the man replied feebly.
She was taken aback by this. A cold blooded assassin stood before her, trying to explain why he didn’t kill her. This man was heartless, but she could sense something inside of him that was trying to escape – hope. Hope for a better life.
“And why was I different?” she replied.
“My whole career I never thought about who I was killing. I simply viewed them as a paycheck, and nothing more.”
Hope looked down at the ground thinking. She could analyze the most talented liar, and tell you if they were telling the truth or not, and this man in front of her, wasn’t lying.
“Can- can we start over?” the man’s pleading voice pulled her back to reality.
She looked up at him. Except this time, she didn’t see a killer, she saw a man who wanted to start over.
“Yes, I’d like that,” she replied.
“I’m Geoffrey. Most people call me Geoff,” he said in a stuttering voice.
“I’m Hope,” she said in calm voice.
“So you like to read?” he said, trying to retain what little composure he had left.
“Yes, I do. And you?”
“I do; when I have the time.”
Hope pulled the book she was reading out of her bag and held it up, “The Great Gatsby, have you ever read it?”
“I have, actually. I really enjoyed it.”
She pushed the book back into her bag. A silence filled the next few moments.
“Wou- would you like to go and get a cup of coffee?” Geoff spoke up nervously.
Hope was again taken by surprise.
“Sure. That sounds nice,” she found herself saying.
They escorted each-other out of the alley and spent the evening talking over a cup of coffee. Geoff’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out and looked at it. A text message read, “Is she dead?” He pressed the delete button and put the phone back in his pocket.
“What was that?” Hope said.
“Nothing. Where were we?” he replied with a smile. He knew that things would change. He could change, because of one thing - Hope.
The End
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