seen from Malaysia
seen from T1
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Going out!
I'll be back to do replies and such later, but I might lurk around and reblog memes and things on mobile. Also, I'm going to tag some people on this post. If you are tagged it means I have our thread in my drafts and will get to it as soon as possible! Sorry its taking so long!
What You Do || sicariusinferni
It wasn't a difficult process, hadn't been for a while. The longer he spent under Moriarty, the easier it got. The more efficient. It was practically clockwork at this point. A file, a name and a picture; everything laid out for him. With the higher profile jobs, too, often a scout was sent ahead to collect information about habits, locations, and so on. Sebastian didn't even have to do that anymore.
It should be better that it was easier, but it wasn't. It was boring.
The latest in a long line was no different. High profile, but low risk. Everything worked out for a perfect execution; all Sebastian had to do was move into place and wait, set up, pull the trigger, pack up, go. You just know things are going wrong when even the allegedly thrilling life of a professional marksman becomes monotonous. Jobs only got interesting now when they didn't go to plan, but if things went wrong, dear old Jimmy wouldn't be happy.
Oh well.
Boredom's usually preferable to the hell Jim can deliver.
As it were, Sebastian was set up in a hide opposite his target's office. Ryan King. It was a contract job, so he couldn't even say what the guy had done to deserve it, but if he started questioning whether people deserved the bullet, he'd be out of a job.
He was held up in an abandoned floor of an office building. Conveniently there'd been a report of severe mold on this level and it had been shut down a day ago to be examined and treated. And that left Sebastian with plenty of cover. Windows backed out with angled mesh to protect him from watchful eyes, while he was still able to see fine. Waiting for King to arrive, exactly where he was supposed to. Stood at the side of the building, every day at one-thirty, for a smoke. The definition of habit.
And there he was, like clockwork. A quick glance at the photo he'd been given to confirm. Aiming. Everything already calculated and adjusted, all he had to do was...
b a n g .
