I sat in the car, watching my target. He seemed so oblivious, so unaware of his surroundings. I would never understand why people didn’t pay more attention to what goes on around them. It’s amazing how many times during a day you are watched, photographed, video taped or spied on. And as with so many, this guy failed to realize that this day would change his life, all because he wasn’t paying attention.

His name was Mike: Mid-30’s, heavy smoker, two girlfriends that didn’t know about each other, preferred bananas with his peanut butter, had a bowl of cereal every morning and had followed the same pattern every day for at least a week now. It was amazing how much I had learned about him from going through his trash, making phone calls to everyone he dealt with, hacking into his computer and slipping a few bucks to the bartender where he regularly nurses a gin and tonic followed by a Dr. Pepper. The guy had his share of problems. I didn’t want to know what kinds of things he bought from those special order catalogs. Some guys deserve what’s coming to them.

I glanced up and down the street. Other then Mike, there was only one person on the street - a business-attired gentlemen who was climbing into his car. The timing was absolutely perfect. Almost everyone was at work or school. Mothers who were still at home were busy inside doing laundry, washing dishes or taking care of their smaller kids, and between the sound of the children’s T.V. shows and the screaming little hellions, not a sound would be heard from the street. The mailman doesn’t come until the afternoon. The average response time by the police is seven minutes to this neighborhood. The setting couldn’t have been more ideal.

Three minutes later, I started my engine and followed Mike as he climbed back into his car and pulled down the road. The perfect opportunity had come and gone, and it wouldn’t come around again. I couldn’t believe this guy was still walking. Why wasn’t he dead yet? Once a contract has been assigned, it should be delivered to the fullest and in the most efficient of ways.

Mike drove slow and steady. He followed every traffic law precisely, used his turn signals and seemed to be watching around him much more than he had previously. But when it came time to let people in or yield to other traffic, he cut people off and tried to stay in the lead. His car was very easy to spot and even easier to follow. I drove like a jerk sometimes, lazily passing through traffic, sometimes letting others cut in front of me, but always keeping Mike in sight. He had no clue that I was anywhere around.

Finally we pulled up to a small office parking lot. Mike cautiously pulled in and looked around frantically before spotting an open spot and steering into it, going heavy on the brake. I parked on the street and watched Mike climb out of his car and look around the parking lot. He then walked over to another car where the same smartly-dressed man from the neighborhood was removing his briefcase from his trunk. Mike walked up behind him, put a gun to the back of his head, and after a loud bang, shoved the body into the trunk and jogged back to his own car.

As Mike climbed back in, he realized someone else had already climbed into the passenger’s seat. Me. I looked at Mike and let out a little sigh.

“You contacted me to train you as a hit man.” Mike’s face perked up as he realized that I was the one with whom he had been communicating so secretively and yet we had never met. The fact that I was there in his car now after he had completed his first hit gave him hope that he was really going to learn from a true professional. I was going to have to dash those hopes.

“I’ve watched as you set up the kill I assigned to you. And while your patience and determination showed great promise…” His eyes started to glow at the praise. “Unfortunately, you have no natural skill and not enough common sense to learn the proper techniques.” A small hole appeared in my jacket pocket with a soft “pop” as Mike slumped across his steering wheel.

As I slowly walked back to my car, I began to question the past few weeks. This will have been the third new guy that I've had to remove due to leaving myself too exposed. When will these guys learn to be more observant of their surroundings and more focused on quality work? Good help is so hard to find.

“Fifteen years working as a hitman and they send a novice to kill me?” Said Charles drawing a cigarette from his pocket and lightened it. “Anyone can easily see that you’re nervous, man!” He said as he stared at the frightened middle-aged man who carried a shotgun. They were on a bridge next to the road. There were only the moon light and a single street lamp illuminating them.

“Shut up!” Said the man, “I am here to kill you!”

“I know!” Said Charles ironically, “Why else would you be pointing this shotgun to me?” He laughed. “Calm down, novice!”

“I am not a novice!” Said the man. He trembled as he spoke.

“Oh, you’re not? Than why are you holding the shotgun by the wrong side?” The man looked at his gun nervously. Charles laughed at him. “I kid! You are holding it by the right side.” He winked to him.

Charles walked towards the man slowly with the cigarette on his mouth; He drew the cigarette and blew the smoke next to the man’s face.

“I know who sent you…” Charles said coldly. The man trembled harder.

“You know?” He said astonished. Charles giggled.

“Lesson number one:” Charles said, “A hitman has no boss. No one has ever sent you to kill me.” He winked at the man.

“But I was hired…” He stammered.

“No you were not.” Charles smiled, “You don’t know anything, and no one has ever hired you to kill anyone.”

“What do you mean?” said the man.

“Anonymity.” Said Charles calmly, “The anonymity of the client is vital. If someone ever catches you, you don’t know who ordered ‘your services’.” Charles winked at him and stared walking away. At that point his killer was calmer but still confused.

“Where are you going to?” Said him surprised.

“Come with me,” Charles said while throwing his cigarette away, “you have a lot to learn.” The man was lost; as he didn’t know what to do he simply decided to listen to his unexpected teacher. Now the shotgun that once pointed at Charles’ direction now pointed to ground and both men moved towards a black coupe.
Charles stopped and said:

“Lesson number two: Do never enter a strain’s car; specially when this said person is your future victim.” Charles smiled warmly to the man. “By the way, what’s your name? I don’t want to call you novice all the time!” He gave the man a pat on the shoulder.

“Samuel.” He answered.

“Mind if I call you Sam?” Charles said; the man consented.

“So, Sam. I guess you know my name?” He said; Sam nodded, “So, let’s go!”

Samuel was confused, but he couldn’t avoid doing anything Charles told him to. They entered the coupe; Sam sat on the driver’s seat, Charles sat besides him.

“I was going to be your first, right?” Charles said; Sam nodded, “So… Who did you say that sent you to kill me?”

“Jonathan Wood… But I thought you knew it!” Samuel said.

“Lesson number three: Do never trust everything people tell you…” He said.

“Especially when this said person is your future Victim…” Samuel completed feeling guilty for not realizing Charles’ intentions.

“Oh! Don’t worry,” the other said, “You are still learning, this is a forgivable mistake. Now take us to Jonathan.” Samuel turned the car on and drove to Jonathan’s house. It was a mansion with three guards on the gate.

“Do you have an extra gun?” Charles asked.

“No.” Samuel replied.

“So we’ll have to use this… Mind if I use yours?”

Samuel gave his gun to Charles, who got out of the car.

“Follow me. It’s time of the action.” Charles said; Samuel followed him. “The secret to a perfect murder is to make that the victim doesn’t know where you are. Do you have silencer?” Charles asked; Samuel gave it him and he placed it on the shotgun. Charles quickly shot the three guards down. Samuel looked at him astonished.
“It’s the practice!” Charles said. “Let’s get in.” They made their way into the house and found Jonathan reading a book next to the fireplace.

“Hello, Jonathan! Long time no see!” Charles said; Jonathan was frightened to see Charles next to him.

“You should be dead by now!” He said.

“I should, but you called a novice to shot me down. It seems you didn’t like my service, uh?” Charles said and passed the shotgun to Samuel. “Your turn.” He said. Samuel shot Jonathan down.

As both man went out of the house Samuel said:

“Hey, thank you for the tips, buddy!”

“I am not your buddy, you have never seen me!” Charles smiled and walked away.