[ WP ] An assassin is hired to kill a target but ca n't get though the target 's plot armor .

The place reeked of gin and cigar smoke. It was a shit hole, but it was my shit hole. I sat in the back room discussing business with my client. He was a suit. A real stuck up prick who spent more on his hair plugs than most families make in a year. A CEO for some company I did n't give a shit about. 
 `` Look, If you want premium results you got ta pay the premium price. You did n't just come to some street thug jackass. You came to me.'' 
 `` Alright, but I want this done clean and in no way traced back to me'' the fat old man said nervously. `` Half in advance is in the briefcase.'' 
 `` I do n't take money before a job is done.'' And that was how I found myself hired to kill Meechum. In those days he was a new detective working for the FBI. He had seen some things he should n't have during an investigation and I was supposed to take him out. 
 There I am, on the roof of a building overlooking his apartment. The plan was to shoot him as he comes out the door, escape off the firing escape, go to the Winchester, then have a pint and wait for it all to blow over. I sat on that roof on that hot ass July day for two hours before I saw him walking down the street. I picked up my rifle. I lied down, leaning the barrel of the gun against the edge of the building. `` Vos moriar ut possum vivere'' I murmured to myself as I steadied my aim. I took a deep breath. The cross hair was fixed on his head. I pulled back on the trigger. Nothing. I squeezed the trigger frantically. Nothing. I wanted to scream. `` How could it just not work?'' I yelled out. That's when my pistol caught my eye. It was time for plan B. I walked up to his door with a 9mm in the waistband of my three piece suit. I Knocked on his door. It seemed like an eternity before I could hear movement on the other side. Was I losing my game? I was the best around. Troubling thoughts filled my head, but there was no time. I saw the door handle turn and the door begin to open. I quickly drew my pistol and emptied the entire clip onto the thin wooden door. It was riddled with holes and splintered. I took a sigh. `` Its over'' I thought to myself. As I turned around the door swung open and a man wraps me up and tackles me to the ground. He takes off running down the hall. It was him. That bastard Meechum. I got up and ran after him. I chased him down outside his apartment building and to an alley out back. I saw him getting into a car. Thank god I had also parked in that alley. I ran into my car and drove after him. He turned right onto the main avenue. I followed. He turned left onto a back street. I did as well. This bastard was n't getting away. I chased him down a back street when he drove past an intersection of sorts on this back street. From the other side a fruit stand came out in front of me. My car slammed into it and spun out of control, spilling fruit everywhere. `` Who the hell has a fruit stand in NYC?'' I yelled out in anger. He was gone. I did n't know where he had fled to. I was arrested later that day. Finger prints on shell casings. I was the best assassin east of the Mississippi, and yet I could n't kill a novice detective. 
 

