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VENICE, ITALY

Tourists and locals alike filled the bustling Venetian streets, giving Deckard Shaw the perfect cover to stalk his unsuspecting target.

Carlos Delvine appeared to be a normal guy - apart from the fact that he was a weapons dealer who had a habit of selling faulty products. Delvine had clearly pissed off the wrong person, otherwise there wouldn't be a $300,000 hit on him.

Despite knowing he should be entirely focused on the job at hand, the Shaw's mind couldn't help but be consumed by his wife. His heart felt like it could burst from his chest at the thoughts of Natalie, the love of his life, running around after Owen in London, and getting into all sorts of danger.

He knew, deep down, that she was more than capable of handling herself (and taking care of his brother), but that didn't stop the ever-growing pit in his stomach from consuming him. It was like his organs were made of lead, and they just weighed him down with worry.

And as hard as he tried to push it away, there was this small voice in the back of his head, telling him that something wasn't right, and that something was going to happen to Natalie, or even Owen. It felt like some sort of twisted impending doom that hung over his family.

Forcing himself to focus, Deckard kept a close eye on Delvine, and watched as he stopped to admire something in the window of a small, rustic-looking shop. It forced the mercenary to do something similar, except with a small cart that held dozens of gorgeous flower bouquets.

He gently toyed with one of the white oriental lillies, the soft petals reminding him of the fact that they were his wife's favourite flowers. Natalie loved them so much that her wedding bouquet was made up nearly entirely of the white flowers, with the exception of some baby's breath for a little variation.

Despite wanting nothing more than to reminisce about the happiest day of his life, Deckard had to move on, as Carlos Delvine had begun to shuffle his way towards a narrow alley just to the right of the shop.

The mercenary wasted no time in carefully closing in on his target, taking the right that led him down the very same alley.

What Deckard wasn't expecting was the feeling of cold, hard metal pressed against the back of his head. He clenched his jaw in annoyance.

"Turn around." Delvine demanded, "Slowly."

Deckard slowly raised his hands and turned to find a smug looking Delvine pointing a pistol at his head. The man reeked of arrogance, and that self-confidence was entirely misplaced, considering he hadn't even managed to click the gun's safety off.

"I thought you were supposed to be a weapons dealer, Carlos." Deckard taunted, clicking his tongue as he tilted his head mockingly.

The man didn't even have time to formulate a response before the mercenary snatched the pistol from Delvine's hand and smacked him on the head with the handle.