[ WP ] you are a retired special ops soldier bored with civilian life , you decide to hire hitmen off of the dark web to kill you as a form of entertainment .

It's been 48 hrs since I placed that `` amazon order''. Funny that they had delivery options. I chose `` 2 day shipping'' and now I'm wondering how good the delivery service will really be. 
 
 20 years ago I hung it all up. It had been a full life of one offs in the Soviet Union and a few unmentionables in Libya. Unmentionables that left my life unrecognizable. When she walked out I saw it coming. When the kids stopped calling I saw that too. In the field they called me `` Fortune'' because of my ability to know what's going to happen next. Hell, I even knew when enough was going to be enough. I just wished enough had n't come in the loss of two of my finest on what was soon to be my last mission. No one blamed me but myself. I saw it coming and ignored the signs. Age had crept up on my six and I pretended he was n't there. That's not something I could admit to those men's widows. 
 
 Now here I am. Wearing out my chair, smoking the same rolled up tobacco I used as a kid and watching the forest behind my house. The wits fade, the muscles and joints stiffen but there's one thing that wo n't go. The fire. The burning sensation that keeps me awake at night and reminds me in the morning: I have one more left in me. And I as I exhale that rolled smoke and watch it dance against the back drop of those distant evergreens I know that `` one more'' is watching me. 
 
 I should have known sooner but we all get rusty. I pretend to drop my bag of tobacco and stand up to brush it off. I bend over to pick it up while I grasp the.45 taped under the chair. The forest must have better eyes than I thought. I hear the pop and a second later the wood from my chair splinters all over me. A warning shot for sure but I do n't wait for another. I crash through my back door and rush to the kitchen. I pull out my steel and put on the silencer. I push myself up against the wall and wait. I have n't felt like this in years. I have to slow my breathing to calm the jitters of excitement. 
 
 I hear foot steps coming up the porch. Sloppy. I should n't hear him at all. I put my gun down and grab the carving knife. Two shots tear through my west wall and lodge themselves into the kitchen vent. The on order assassin slowly takes a step in the room. Before he takes a second the knife slides into his jugular. I look at him expiring on the floor. The fire is still burning. His warranty is still good and I know the policy will send another. I'm just glad it did n't cost me a fortune.
