• She crouches behind a graffitied beam; gun in hand, like a front-line soldier. She shows no emotion-not a single glimmer of fear; the atmosphere is tight.

    Just then, the dealer slouches through the back of the miserable warehouse-with a customer. It’s show time. She freezes. Not a breath, not a heartbeat, not an ounce of emotion. She patiently waits for her kill, ignoring the undeniable stench of excrement and cheap liquor. She keeps reminding herself to stay in control, not to be put off her assignment, no matter what mental state she’s in. Sweat trickles down her forehead and sends deep shivers down her spine, but still, she can’t shiver, she doesn’t want to jeopardise the whole mission by one simple reaction. She carries on waiting for that perfect moment.

    Finally the customer exits with His scummy goods and she prepares herself. She loads her gun while the dealer is busy counting notes and now, for the first time, a spark of anxiety is evident within her eyes. She’s just about to pull on the trigger when it slips out of her clammy hands and clatters to the floor, the noise echoes throughout the empty warehouse.

    The man swivels around strides over to investigate, her gut clenches. The atmosphere around them vastly changes and this assassination isn’t turning out to be so easy after all. But to her relief his superstitions withdraw and he returns to counting bundles of money. She picks up her gun and, without thinking, she pulls on the trigger and closes her eyes.

    When She Opens them again the dealers lay there, in a swamp of blood, She glances over to the side and much to her demise, the dealers customer is lingering by the door, amazed at had just happened. She knew she had no choice; she has to rid of him too. He attempts a getaway, her plan has gone haywire in her head she scolds herself, making such thoughtless decisions like that. Her only option now is to track him down.

    He scuttles towards the overflowing field of urban terrain, with a faint hope that he’ll be free from this somewhat nightmare in his eyes. She has a trick up her sleeve, his fate has been fixed.

    He Finds Himself lost deep within the undergrowth, he feels safety and security once more. A slight sigh just managed to escape his lips, and as his deep crimson cheeks had faded back to his ghost-like complexion the tension in his joints start to loosen. He lost her; well, that’s what he thought. Peaceful silence fills the air and he slouches in the opposite direction…BANG! There she is standing over his corpse with a sickening grin plastered to her face, almost triumphant in a way.

    She hastily makes her way through the wasteland back to the warehouse when she can faintly hear the sound of sirens in the distance. There coming for her. At this point she decides to sprint back to the warehouse to collect a few things, one of those things being uncountable amounts of money and the other a bag full of beautifully designed Muslim robes. She throws the robes over her face; she’s transformed into a totally different person. She calmly puts her feet onto the pavement and carries on like it was another ordinary day. Her plan was a success after all. Guess what? She gets away with it.