It was a simple mission, but, it seemed simple was not always the answer. Why? Because there always seemed to be a payoff for disobeying a direct order.
That is, what the feline thought for a few.
He was doing a contract, and he had been instructed to execute the juror in a timely and orderly fashion. This was supposed to be one a stealth, precision, and accuracy. He had his 50. Caliber BMG Tungsten tipped ammunition Barrett positioned under his arm, secure in the suitcase. He was at the vantage point of the distance required for the sniper's nest angle. He had sat there for a few hours, making sure the tedious tailing was nothing, and that nobody
had followed him to this discreet location. FBI sure seem to snoop around in a cat's business. At least now he had the high ground. In this sense, he wasn't joking. The building he was on was at least 1,100 feet from the ground, and judging from where he stood, he had to execute this perfectly. one missed shot, especially with the suppressor screwed on tight, could spell the end for him. At this distance, he had made sure that there could be no interference with the
commoner's eye. He caught whiff of his target leaving the hotel, and that is when he set into action. The cat quickly sprung to his feet, stretching out, then grabbed the long suitcase carrying his weapon of precise aim and lethal precision. He took the weapon out of the casing, feeling along the smooth, black surface of one of the most powerful rifles of human, and non-human, history. Quickly, yet accurately, he assembled the rifle, making sure that he had all the
intricate details lined up. he got down, flat on his belly, the put his finger in his maw, lifting it to the air as to feel the wind pressure. Since it was a warm day today, and the wind speed was under 10 MPH, he had good wind for this accurate shot. Of course, he'd have to consider all of the other technicalities. There was also the distance he had to worry about, which was well over 1100 miles from his target. Screwing the suppressor on quickly, the cat narrowed his emerald
eyes, fixated on the target in front of him. A man, daunting in feature, made sure he was known as a limo pulled up. "Great," he whispered to himself, making sure his aim was above the target's head, slightly tilted to the right. Aim directly at him, and he would miss a critical shot. He made sure his aim was on point, waiting as the man got in close enough. He stood still, the exact moment the cat had been waiting for. He took off the suppressor, in the heat of
the moment, directly going against the order of his captain who ordered silence in this, aiming, his finger on the trigger. He inhaled, a bead of sweat trickling down his face. Tensing, he took the shot. BANG! The shot echoed all around, seemingly shaking the place where he rested. People screamed in a panic as the man dropped quickly, so fast like a sack of limp potatoes. Guards quickly saw the flash, and the feline could see them talking into the receiver they had.
He knew they saw him, so he hurried and got out of there. Now to face the angry music.
"WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?!? TAKING YOUR SUPPRESSOR OFF IN ONE OF THE BIGGEST CROWDS EVER?!?," his captain furiously roared, making the feline step back.
"I tried to tell you sir, it would throw off my shot."
"I don't care! You risked it all you fool! DA will be on us for weeks!"
"Not really. They didn't see my face. It looked like another assassination."
"Wait....you weren't seen?"
"Nope."
"Well then....I guess that does make it better....heck of a shot though...."
"1100 meters out is child's play sir. Gimme something better next time."
With that, he walked out. DA would be on them, yes, but it actually paid off. Failing that shot from a suppressor would've ended more than his career......