The Hit Man

I almost always flashed back to my time in the desert at times like these. I suppose that it is reasonable given that I am staring through a scope at my target. Only now my target isn't a terrorist, or even a criminal. In fact, in this scenario, it is me who is the criminal.

My target is a balding, sweaty, slightly overweight banker who at this very moment is ploughing the field of one of his underlings from the bank.

Why is he in my sights? Well, that is because I have the contract to end his life. Someone, and I have no idea who, took out a hit on this man. Paid in crypto currency and all organised through the dark web. I will never meet the person who took out the contract, and I have no connection whatsoever with the target or his lover. By the time any law enforcement is alerted I will be long gone, and I am very good at making sure that I don't leave any traces that could point back to me.

I watched through my scope for a while longer. I'm not a voyeur but I need to find my opportunity to shoot. For various reasons I can't shoot while they are 'in flagrante' as they say but normally once the guy finishes - he'll either roll over onto the bed - or stand up. Normally that's my cue.

I panned my scope around a little, taking in what little of the room I could see through the window, there was nobody else other than the copulating couple. I looked at her. She was quite a prize. The contract had specifically said that she must not be harmed, and she wouldn't be. At least not physically. I could not predict what watching her lovers head explode as he walks to the bathroom to piss would do to her psyche.

I took a second to look around me. It does no good to get so fixated on your target that you yourself are in danger. I don't have a spotter or backup. It's just me so I must ensure that my position is secure. And it is. I am on the rooftop of a building across the street from the hotel the cheating couple is using.

Back to the scope and I can tell he is close to finishing. I settle once more, checking that nothing has changed with the conditions and, at the moment he arches his back, shouting out his climax.

He shudders once, twice, three times and holds still. Then he climbs off her. True to expectations he heads for the bathroom. I pull the trigger.

I am moving before she starts to scream, and by the time any law enforcement is around, I am already several miles away.

I store my gear in one of the several storage locations I have around the city, each in a different name and prepaid in cash, before heading home.

During my journey, I once again contemplate how I got here. How is it that I am now a hitman, specialising almost exclusively in taking out cheating spouses.

Well, the shooting part is easy. I was always good with a rifle. From being a young boy and hunting on the farm I have had an affinity with guns, particularly rifles which meant I could make shots that astounded everyone else. It was almost instinctive.

When I signed up to the marines and subsequently in sniper school, they taught us all about trajectories, wind resistance, ballistics and all kinds of other science. I learned it all, I just didn't need it. I could make a shot by eyeball that many snipers couldn't make even with all their calculations and computers. It was just a natural instinctive ability.

There was no doubt that I would have gone on to great things in the marines, but then something happened which changed my life forever, and was the reason why I specialised in cheating spouses.

You guessed it. A cheating spouse.

Gabrielle was a girl of French descent, a petite dark-haired woman we met in a bar in the town when we were taking some R&R. She was lively and engaging and had a body that engendered all kinds of impure thoughts. She with us for the entire evening and I, and my best friend Bobby, took turns in dancing with her.

By closing time, it was obvious that there was something between her and Bobby and with a rueful grin I did the only thing a best friend could do, I wished him luck and returned to the base alone.

After that, every time we went into town, they were inseparable. I would either start the evening as a third wheel, trying to find my own company as the night wore on, or occasionally she would bring a friend to keep me company while her and Bobby amused themselves with each other.

I was surprised though when after only knowing her for three months Bobby came to me to show me the ring, he had bought for her.

"Wow Bobby," I said "that's some rock. Are you sure you are ready for this?"

He grinned at me.

"When you know, you know" he said affecting the pose of an old wise man. "I'm not going to let her get away."

The look in her eye when Bobby got down on one knee in the bar that night gave me pause. I had expected that she would be excited and happy, but there was an instant of calculation on her face before she showed the expected emotion. I didn't say anything to Bobby because I didn't want to spoil his moment, but I did wonder.

I arranged the Batchelor party since I was best man and even though I say so myself it was epic. There were all the ingredients, The 3 Bs were present. Buddies - half the platoon turned out, Booze, we had to pour Bobby back into his bunk that night and he had little memory of what had gone on and Broads. Of course, there were strippers. It was mandatory. I did however make sure to protect Bobby's virtue and made sure that nothing untoward happened with, or to, him. I had previously spoken with Gabrielle when I was organising the party to ask her for boundaries. If she had said no strippers - there would have been none. I didn't want Bobby divorced before he was even married.

The wedding was a small affair, with her parents and some of her friends, and a few of the guys in our platoon. I was, as I said, best man.

Two months later we were deployed back into the desert on a three-month tour.

I will remember that patrol for the rest of my life. We were tasked with searching a village where we thought there may have been some insurgents. I, with my spotter, had already scouted and found a location where I could provide overwatch for the guys. It wasn't a perfect situation as there were some places I still couldn't see, but it was the best available.

Bobby had seemed out of sorts all day, he seemed overly eager to get out there and was brusque with everyone, even me which was unusual. When I asked him what his problem was, he just grinned at me and said he was just eager to get going.

Bobby never made it back from that patrol.

I didn't see what happened as his position wasn't visible from my observation point, but his team told me that when they had made contact with the enemy, Bobby had just stood up shouted something like "Come on you bastards!!" and rushed towards them firing his M16 from the hip like some kind of James Cagney gangster. He didn't make it 10 feet.

As his best friend I was tasked with packing up his belongings to send back to the US and it was then I found the letter.

Dear Bobby

I'm know this is a coward's way, but I need to tell you that I have been seeing someone else, and we have fallen in love. I am leaving you so that he and I can be together.

I want you to know that I did love you, but our time apart has shown me that I was not really in love with you, and you deserve more so it is better that we part ways, and you can find someone to love you as much as you deserve.

Please don't think too badly of me. John says that you have another month of your tour left so by the time you get back I will have moved out of our house. I am not going to ask for anything from you in the divorce and would love to count you as a friend if you can find it in your heart to forgive me.

Warmest Regards

Gabrielle

"FUCKING BITCH!!" I shouted after I had read the letter. Now I understand Bobby's behaviour and I resolved that there would be payback.

I was detailed to accompany Bobby's body back to the US, cutting my tour short.

We deplaned the coffin and Gabrielle came over, tears streaming down her face. She went to put her hand on the coffin, and I spoke.

"Don't you fucking dare you traitorous cunt." She stepped back stunned and it was then I noticed the officer who had accompanied her.

Colonel John Edwards.

"What the hell?" he began putting his arm around her shoulders. "How dare you..."

"How dare I?" I said. "This traitorous CUNT dropped a 'Dear John' letter on a soldier on active duty just before a patrol. What the FUCK did she think was going to happen. When I find out who the lowlife scum who she..."

"Stand down marine." Colonel Edwards snarled "I didn't know she had sent him a letter. I told her to wait and we..."

"YOU?" I asked incredulously "You stepped out with one of your men's wives?"

"It just..." he began.

My first punch caught him in the throat, bringing him to his knees. My kick to his groin took him all the way to the ground and I had punched him four more time in the face while he was on the ground before the MP's got to me.

My greatest satisfaction was that we were BOTH court martialled. He for conduct unbecoming and me for striking a superior officer. I spent a year in military prison for the assault before being dishonourably discharged and he just got kicked out of the service, losing his pension.

It took me another year to find her, she had moved to Canada and was living with a French-Canadian businessman. I had no idea what had happened to Colonel Edwards, but he had got lost along the way.

I did consider just shooting her from a distance. It would have been so easy. No security, no overwatch, just a woman out in public, like shooting fish in a barrel, but then she would never know what hit her, nor why. I needed this to be more personal, needed her to understand who had killed her and why.

In the end she made it so simple for me. She was out dancing with some friends. Obviously she was still cheating as the guy who currently had his tongue down her throat was not her French-Canadian business man. I watched from the bar as he whispered something in her ear, and she nodded and they moved towards the exit.

I took myself out of the front door and walked around the bar. I had an idea of where they were going and wasn't disappointed as I saw then heading toward an SUV in the carpark. I waited by my car to see if they were going to drive away somewhere but when he opened the back door of the SUV I knew it was going to happen here and now.

Checking around for anyone, or any surveillance I moved closer until I could clearly see Gabrielle, or rather Gabrielle's ass poking out of the back door, with the guy pounding at her while he had her bent over the seat of the car.

I didn't want to kill the guy, I had no gripe with him, so a quick chokehold later and he was unconscious on the floor. It took Gabrielle a few seconds to realise that the pounding had stopped and extricated herself from the car and turned to face me, looking down the barrel of my Glock 9.

Her eyes widened as she recognised me, and she opened her mouth to speak. I beat her to it.

"Bobby says hello BITCH!!" I pulled the trigger twice, putting two in her chest and she was thrown back into the car.

I was gone before the sound of the shots brought anyone out of the bar, and back across the border into the US less than four hours later.

Avenging Bobby had given me an idea. Surely there were any number of people who are, at this very minute, being cheated on. Some of them will want to reconcile, others to divorce. But there will be some that want a more permanent solution to a cheating spouse, and I had the skillset to make that happen. And so, I became a hitman, specifically one who targets those that step outside their marriages. It was easy work. Overall, they were ordinary people, had little or no idea they were being targeted and had no personal protection.

I had been plying my trade for about 4 years and made quite a lot of money when I met Julianna.

Julianna was finance manager in a car dealership I had visited when I wanted to buy a new car. She was bright and clever and interesting to talk to. It didn't hurt that she was almost 6 ft tall in her heels with legs that went on for miles, long jet-black hair, and an ass to die for. We hit it off instantly and within half an hour she had accepted a date with me.

I won't bore you with the dance that was the courtship, suffice it to say that 18 months later Julianna and I married in a lavish wedding with over 200 guests, made up of her friends and family, my parents and a number of my old marine buddies who were still speaking to me.

As far as the world, and Julianna were concerned I was a successful money manager, spending a lot of my working time on my computer from home, but having to go on regular business trips around the country as required. This was the perfect cover for my real work.

Life with Julianna was good. She was supportive of my money management work, even when I had to go away on business. She always welcomed me back with bedroom sessions where she was wild and un-inhibited. Even when I was home we had sex at least 4-5 times per week, and sometimes much more. She never went out 'with the girls' although she had a lot of friends, we always went out as a couple. If we went dancing she would accept, with my blessing, dances from other men, but always made sure that their, and her, behaviour passed the husband test. I never once doubted that she loved me, nor I her.

Contracts came in via the dark web, and I was paranoid when taking them. I would never meet in person, dealing only via the web, would require irrefutable proof of infidelity and they would never know when or where the contract would be fulfilled. Money was paid into a virtual escrow account. Once the contract was fulfilled the money could be released by the client. The money could be returned to the client by me if for some reason I could not complete the contract but so far that had never happened. Since I had no connection at all to any of the 'victims' law enforcement never got close to me and because I used virtual currency, even if it could be shown that the person taking out the contract had paid a lump sum out, its destination was completely secure.

I killed far more men than women, roughly on a ratio 10-1 when a woman gets cheated on by a man- she wants him dead. More often than not when a man gets cheated on by a woman - he wants the man that cuckolded him dead, go figure. There were exceptions of course but I had no conscience. It was a job. People were willing to pay me and pay me well for my services and cheaters deserved everything they got.

And so, life rolled on. Julianna and I had our first child after we had been married 3 years, and our second only 18 months later. They had a good stable family life growing up and were now both at college which was all paid for. Julianna was a bit of an empty nester and had gone back to work at the car dealership. I worked from home most days with occasional trips out.

I had decided that I was going to retire. One or two more contracts would complete the retirement fund I had been building and to be honest was getting tired of the game. I looked at the bulletin board that I used to pick up work and saw there were two contracts available. One in the neighbouring state and one right across the country. I decided that the pay for the local contract would enable me to call it quits and clicked on the job to start the process for taking the contract.

The target was a man by the name of Peter Miller. A picture was enclosed. There was a file listing that he was a group insurance salesman that covered three states, including ours, and that he travelled extensively throughout his area. He was married to Janine, and had three young children Paul, Mary and Siobhan. I had PI reports showing his liaisons with four different women.

He was currently on the road and his itinerary brought him to within 50 miles of where I lived. He would be staying in a hotel for a week. There was no information about him having a woman this close, but it was expected that he had one and that they would be meeting up during his stay. The contract was to watch his hotel, and if he showed up with a woman who was not his wife, to check him out, permanently.

Attached to the contract were pictures of the man himself, his wife, and the three kids. I always wondered why they bothered including the pictures of the kids, but they always did.

Whoever had compiled the dossier had done their homework. They knew not only what hotel he was staying in, but what room.

I googled the hotel and found that the room he had booked was on the 5^th floor on the east side. A quick look at Google Earth showed me that there was a construction site not on the block opposite but one block over. If I could get onto a high enough floor of that unfinished building, I should have an unimpeded view of the east side of the hotel since the buildings directly opposite the hotel were only three stories high.

"I have to go on a trip next week" I told Julianna on the Friday Evening. I'll be leaving Monday morning and back Thursday, possibly Friday.

She looked up over the book she was reading.

"I thought you were finished with those?" she said. Not complaining just asking.

"This may be the last one, depending how things go. There may be another if this one doesn't live up to expectations.

She nodded, then grinned.

"That means we have all weekend together." She said.

We didn't spend all weekend in bed. After an amazing Friday night, we went out on Saturday, did some mundane stuff and then ate at our favourite restaurant. Saturday night and most of Sunday was spent in bed.

I left the house Monday morning and took my car to the airport.

Once parked I walked about a mile to a storage unit I had nearby and climbed into a nondescript car that I kept there for this purpose. It was a grey Toyota sedan, instantly forgettable. It was registered to a fake ID, which was strong enough to pass LEO inspection but would not stand up to deep scrutiny.

I was in position on the 7^th floor of the construction site, with my spotting scope pointing at his window when the target entered the room. He pottered around for a few minutes and then picked up his phone which had apparently rung. After a brief conversation he left his room. It was just after 12 mid-day.

I didn't bother to follow him; I knew he would be back, so I settled in to wait. The construction site was currently closed for some reason or other, so I had no fear of discovery.

It was after 6pm when he returned to his room.

In an obvious hurry went into the bathroom to shower. I observed him as he returned to the bedroom, he was nothing special. The shower water must have been cold because there was nothing much to see hanging between his legs and his body while lean wasn't particularly inspiring. I often wondered what attracted women to men like this and I decided he must have a good line in chat because it certainly wasn't his physical attributes.

After another 30 minutes he was dressed and then he headed out.

I ate some food and settled down to wait for his return. I was certain he would be back, and probably with some woman. I would take pictures to prove his infidelity then put a bullet through his skull. There was nothing in the contract about killing or sparing the woman so I wouldn't kill her. While not averse to killing cheating whores, I didn't know this woman was a cheating whore. She might just be some single girl falling for this sleazeballs line. I would have no information and so she would live.

It was after midnight when the light finally came on in the room again and I looked again through my scope. I saw my target enter the room with a tall dark-haired woman. As soon as they were through the door the woman pushed him up against the door and dropped to her knees in front of him. I couldn't see what exactly was going on since she had her back to me, I could see him from the torso down due to my position a couple of stories above theirs, but I wasn't worried. They would move further into the room eventually.