Singing Robin (Part 2)

Epilogue

                                                                                          ~

10:50 pm,

    "I didn't know how to end the flight. I mean, fight," Arno whispers, and I sigh, understanding him a little better.

    "We have to call off the hit," I tell him, and he nods.

    "Where, and for who?" He asks, and I blink at him.

    "This is all very badass, but I was genuinely here for gambling. Lottie said I could. I wasn't sneaking out, I swear. Then my phone was pinged with your names, and my car rerouted here. All led me to you. And then my phone self-destructed...cuz Ciro is a dick." Arno admits, and I sigh.

    "We are looking for Ruwin, he is radio silence for this hit. But he is on top of that building. If you see him first, say the code word first, or he will shoot you with zero hesitation." I tell him, and then a small smile pulls at my lips when he quickly nods, and we run across the road. He takes the doors, and I go for the fire escape.

    I climb faster, knowing that though he is a patient hunter, he has a precise aim. I climb until I find an open door to the floor and race down the hall, nearly bowing people over.

    "Coming through," I yell, trying to pinpoint the best sniper's perch through the windows in the open suites. I hit the elevator, but when it didn't come I throw open the door to the stairs and began booking it to the fifteenth floor.

    Ruwin taught me that everyone has a tell, and knowing yours can be a weakness or a strength. Ruwin's tell is a personal one. I pound on room number twenty, and the door opens.

    "How the fuck did you get here first?" I ask Arno, and he shrugs.

    "He needed a shield, a dark room to hide his form, and a height high enough to confuse a crowd of witnesses. Floor fifteen, but room nineteen just wasn't dark enough... It was a gamble. Did I mention I'm quite good at gambling? The elevator was fast though... Did you run?" He babbles, and I pick him up and move him out of my way to get to Ruwin, who has not moved from the window. The sniper rifle is still in its perch, and he is still looking through the scope.

    "Ruwin, we need to go," I tell him, and he nods.

    "Arno said the code was sent over an hour ago," I say, my chest tightening, and Ruwin ignores me and instead turns the eye patch over his eye. I think he is removing the gun when his hand flexes, but then a thin shot goes through the air, and a pot-belly businessman hits the ground, blood slowly coating his chest, and people on the street scream. My mouth parts, and Ruwin looks at me.

    "Finished," Ruwin coldly says, and I nod. Ruwin then begins taking the gun apart piece by piece but quickly begins sliding pieces of the Elite Race sniper rifle into different hidden compartments on his suitcase.

    "Let us go before the coroners show up," Ruwin says, and Arno's mouth is parted in shock. I shoot him a look, and he looks down.

    "Ciro chartered a jet for you," Arno whispers at the floor, and we frown.

    "We have a jet," I say, and Ruwin frowns as it is his jet Arno overlooked.

    "Not with clearance to take you where you need to go. Or get you there fast enough." Arno corrects, looking at us, and we frown harder.

    "Where is that?" I say, and Arno winces.

    "The Max," Arno says, naming a high-security prison in Central American waters.