Alfie

Your knowledge of weapons and marksmanship played into your hands. You started attending shooting classes at a young age and developed a keen interest, and by the age of twenty-two, you were invited to join an organization where you were given tasks, and you carried them out. Of course, it wasn't for free. Each mission cost a large sum, and you could use it. So, on your next mission, they threw a couple of pieces of information on your desk. You read it thoroughly, and your target was a man. His name was Alfie. He worked for the mafia and had caused problems for the organization, and they demanded his death from you. You read his biography; he was three years older than you, and his parents had been killed by him, but his sentence was reduced to three years, and he was already free. So, having collected your weapons, you drove to the point, sitting in a secluded spot where you couldn't be seen, you said into the radio: — I see the target, awaiting orders. You snorted into the radio and aimed the gun at Alfie's head. A voice came over the radio, saying, "Don't let him see you, he's dangerous." You reloaded the rifle and knelt down, looking through the scope. Looking through it, you saw the man's smile spread into a cold smirk, and his gaze focused on you. You gripped the gun in surprise, hissing, "Don't let him see you, he's dangerous. " — "Oh, damn..."