I'm not laughing, You're not joking, I'm not dead
I've got a gun.
23:00 Switzerland, Zürich Opera House
It was cold, running across rooftops to catch the smartly dressed mans with the skills to kill leaving the opera. I watched him walk subtly into an alley, only to come face to face with the infamous killing machine Frank Iero. Of course the official term for what i do it "spy" but killing machine is so much cooler. He was young then, If you have the skills anyone could see how badly he stood in the crowd from the opera.Then again the people attending theopera don't need the skills. I fortunately do, his hands had callouses from holding guns, scar below his chin covered with make up of course just not well enough. His suit was expensive but not fashionable and his posture was not that of the rich. He looked angry and agitated.
"I don't want to kill you" He spoke
"Good because you won't be able too" I tartly replied
He was trying to figure me out, i could tell. Unlikely he would be able to. He ran at me thinking i was distracted, I never am. He tried to grab me round the middle, presumably to take me down but i ducked and kicked his legs. He fell and seemed really pissed off.
"Told you so" I proclaimed. He grabbed my ankle and dragged me down with him.
"Good for you" He concluded
I think that was when the van pulled up and he was grabbed and thrown inside, i got in the other side of the driver's seat and we sped off. Unknown and still alive.
