[ WP ] The world 's best hitman prepares to kill the world 's luckiest man .

Agent 74 was sitting on a bench in a public park. He was in civvies, to his eternal regret, as opposed to his usual suit and tie. In this case however, it was a necessary evil. 74 could almost feel the cheap tracksuit material staining his pale skin. Thank god he did n't have any friends to see him in such a get up. 
 
 The degrading navy blue and white striped jacket he had on his a silenced pistol in it's spacious pockets; In his left sleeve hid a hypodermic needle with a suspicious green liquid inside. 
 
 Any moment now his target, he did n't care why or who they were, would walk through the north entrance, get a hot dog from the central stand, sit under a nearby tree and then read his newspaper while listening to the bird song. If 74 was anyone else, he'd probably enjoy that. In the next life maybe. That was enough distraction though. He looked at his gaudy watch and sighed through his nose. Two minutes left. He leaned back on the cold wooden bench and waited. Seriously, these clothes offered no warmth at all! 
 
 One minutes and fifty two seconds later a smart-casual dressed man came in through the north entrance. While the normally suited assassin was n't normally allowing things like fashion to register on his mind, this man elicited a response. The way his outfit seamlessly complemented itself was pretty impressive. Lucky even. Must be. 
 
 The target's messy but styled hair was brushed out of his eyes with a defined hand as he ordered his hot dog. 74 eavesdropped on the conversation. 
 
'The regular please Joe' the target stated. His voice had a carefree but organised lilt to it, both capable of soothing a toddler as well as dominating a boardroom meeting, potentially at once. It was almost hypnotic.. in a way. 
 
'Sure thing buddy. Hey, how'd that bet go for you' The vendor diced onions as he asked. 
 
'Ah well it was 200-1 but I had a gut feeling so I bet $ 500 on the slowest horse and still won! Crazy lucky' 
 
 The vendor hummed in response as he fried vegetables. 
 
'So $ 500 at 200-1 made me a pretty good payout. $ 100,000 all mind.' 
 
'Damn buddy! That's mad. What are you doing with it?' The chef asked as he cut open a bread roll. 
 
'Oh you know, do some safe investments. Money makes money as they say.' 
 
'Yeah well.. good luck with that. Here's hoping you do n't decide to get your own hot dogs hand made every day...' A awkward moment was diffused by the targets angelic laugh. 
 
'I'll always get them here Joe, do n't worry.' 
 
'Will do. Here's your order' The target grabbed the perfect hot dog and paid with a $ 50 note.'Keep the change Joe'. Joe kept the change, happily kept it. 
 
 The target walked confidently to the sitting tree. Before he sat down, he pulled a newspaper from his jacket inner pocket. It was this mornings edition, probably still warm off the presses. The target pulled the elastic band he had used to keep it together and stuffed it in the smooth pocket of his suit. Newspaper in one hand and hot dog in the other he sat under his tree. The slightest glimmer of light broke through the clouds giving him a spotlight. The tree, one of the largest in the park, had kept its leaves despite the changing of the seasons. How sad it must be, to see all of its peers start to die while it remains strong. Everything around him dying, but he was still alive... 
 
 74 felt a little nervous for some reason. This was possibly the easiest mark he'd ever make and yet something was just *off*. Annoyed, he pushed down the feelings into a small compartment to be opened later. He was on a job and distraction could mean failure. 
 
 The target was whistling! Whistling! On a cold morning like this where the sun barely reared its head. The whistling was picked up by the birds and it soon spread over the park like a wave of serenity. 74 did n't even know birds could do that. Was n't that in a movie or something? Does n't matter. 
 
 The hit man was going to wait two minutes and thirty seconds before putting his plan, Plan A, into action. His teeth chattered as he counted down the seconds in his head. Damn cold. 
 
 Three... Two... One! The assassin dressed like a bum got up and started shuffling towards the man who was now engrossed in his newspaper. The disguise was good enough to be convincing but he had to act the part. It was at this moment he remembered lamenting the compulsory acting lessons he had taken in the Academy, they were pretty useful after all. Mumbling something incomprehensible he edged towards the reading man. He put on his best'Homeless voice'. He slipped the small needle 
 
'Scuse me mate, have you got any spare change? It's just that it's getting closer to winter now and...' 74 let the implication hang in the air. Leave a sentence unfinished and people were all the more likely to finish it for you. That way, they were invested in the conversation. That means they were distracted. That meant they'd be dead. That's what the Academy said. It had worked so far. 
 
 The mark lowered the newspaper. 74 got the sense that if he had glasses, he'd probably be raising them up on his nose at this point.'Change...? Why would you need change?' 74 expected this. People just did n't like homeless. What harsh times we live in. 
 
'Well.. you know what it gets like in winter.. We do n't have food, or clothes, or anything. I'll die if I do n't scrape up enough to get a room. Terrible room sir, terrible room. Worst place in the city, but it's better than dying in a cold alley...' He'd rambled on just enough to be desperate. He was begging. A lot of people begged when he was around, in a different way. 
 
'Well then. That sucks to be you. Now can you leave please?' The man lifted his newspaper up and tried to ignore the man. 
 
'But sir!' The man did n't even move a fraction of his eyes at 74.'Sir!' 
 
'What? What do you want from me? Is it my fault you're like this. No. Now please *leave me alone*' The man was furious now. The sides of the newspaper were now scrunched up from the clenching of the man's hands.'If you talk to me again, I will call the police. 
 
 `` Wow'' 74 thought to himself. `` He really hates homeless people. Rich bastard.'' Guess he'll have to just kill him the simple way.'Okay then sir.. I'll go' 74 choked the last part out. He walked away dejectedly and went north. When he got halfway he started moving east. Plan Ab was to loop back round and stab him from behind. Carefully, he moved through the trees. The autumn meant that the leaves were dry and plentiful. If he stood on one and the target heard he might have to resort to Plan B; Shotgun diplomacy. 
 
 He stalked through the trees with precised movements. The target had calmed down now after angrily eating his hot dog. The napkin lay at his side, crumpled and thrown away. He was reaching the end of the newspaper, he would be leaving soon! 74 kept the same steady pace. His plan was to sneak up and inject the man. If that failed, he would tackle him and then inject him. If that failed, he would use his silenced pistol instead. 74 was now under ten feet from the sitting man and was about to pounce. Out of nowhere a bird flew onto the targets shoulder and chirped loudly prompting the man to turn around. Immediately he got up and started shouting at the agent. 
 
'I told you to **GO AWAY**! What are you trying to do? Mug me? I'll cut your damn head off if you try and get any closer you.. you waste of energy' His face had gone red from the rant. Hunched over to regain his breath, 74 ran forward and stabbed the needle into the man. He pressed down on the plunger and.. 
 
 Nothing came out. By a stroke of unimaginable luck the needle had developed a defect and could n't push out any of the sedative mix. That is embarrassing. Thinking that he simply did n't get a good enough grip on the plunger 74 tackled the target to the ground and slammed his hand onto the syringe. A little too hard actually, as the force exerted on the glass actually caused the needle to explode onto 74's hand cutting it open. Some of the contents leaked into the fresh cuts. 
 
 `` Great, now this'' 74 thought absently. A light sedative was nothing to worry about, the fact he *still* had n't eliminated the mark was starting to become a liability. One, because he was going to draw attention. Two, because if anyone found out he'd be a laughing stock in the Academy. Resorting to Plan B - Pump target with bullets. The assassin reached for his weapon and pulled it out to aim at the angry and unharmed man in front of him to find.. 
 
 Nothing. In all the mayhem it had fallen out of the ridiculously loose pockets! Looking around he spotted the matte black pistol within the brown and green leaves. He moved closer to reach for it but a unseen rock tripped him up. `` Seriously?'' Was all he thought. That was all there was to it, really. 
 
 As he got to his feet so did the target. He opened his mouth and shouted.'Help! Help! This man is trying to kill me!' and turned to run away. 
 
 74 could n't have him live, especially after trying so much. Screw it, as long as it's done it's done. He lifted the gun up and aimed between the shoulder blades of the moving target. He barely paused, barely flinched as he pressed the trigger. The bullet seemed to move in slo-mo, or maybe that was the sedative. It seemed that right before it hit the running man the bird from earlier flew in front and took the bullet for him. 
 
 `` Fuck it! I'm coming back next week and I'm bringing a shotgun!'' 74 said, utterly defeated and frustrated. Running into the trees he thought about the ways he could get rid of the birds. Those damn birds. That man was the luckiest man in the world... 
 
 -- - 
 
 Finally finished this over the day, check out my sub /r/Daily_Creation!
