proxy

She layed on her stomach, her forehead beating with sweat. However, it was from the heat, not nervousness, Proxy was too confident in her job, and wasn't nervous in these sorts of situations.

She watched like a hawk, her gun rested under her chest.

She had already shot all the cameras, so they couldn't see her. Not like they could see her anyway, her face hidden behind a mask, fashioned like a dog muzzle, and the rest of it a hardened plastic, goggled eyepieces to protect her eyes. Her clothing was simple, black, and nothing noticeable that they could trace down to.

All she had to do was wait.

She watched a man walk out of the building in front of the one she perched on.

Senator Perch. She knew that the gun would have to wait, so she pulled a tranquilizer from her pocket, and shot it perfectly into his neck. He twitched violently and fell on the floor. She tucked it away and continued waiting, unstrapping her gloves so she could wipe her hands on her pants.

Then, crowding around the ticket to the prize, her prize, she thought murderously, the rest of the guards came out and immediately began circling the building. Fools.

She scowled. Change of plans.

She put her gun, gloves, mask, and emergency daggers in a bag, hidden under clothing.

She walked down the ladder and emerged from the room into a busy shopping mall. She made a beeline to the bathroom, but a man stopped her, his breath reeking of whiskey. She saw the bar right next to the bathroom.

She narrowed her eyes as he touched her backpack. She kicked his legs out from under him, and he played on the floor, stunned. She kicked his chest, aiming for the lungs, hopefully killing him in thirty minutes. What was she supposed to do? She was an assassin, it's what was in her blood.

Or her victims', she thought, looking at her shoes from her last job.

She walked briskly to the bathroom and changed into a white buttoned-up shirt, black jeans, and a black-tie. The most inconspicuous outfit she could possibly think of.

She tied her hair in a bun, and walked out again, adding fake glasses for good measure. She looked like a student or an accountant.

She walked out, stopping to steal a soda from a guy, and walked out, sipping it in distaste. What idiot drank diet?

She walked into the building, showing her ID, a fake one her little sister made, she thought proudly, and was able to sneak away, the pandemonium of the now-dead senator. Oops, she thought lazily, must have been the killer darts. She sprinted up the stairs and barreled straight into a security guard. She was stopped.

" I'm sorry Ma'am, but no one's allowed up here due to-" her dagger whistled out of her pocket to his neck, stopping all attempts to scream for help. She wiped the dagger on her pants and continued up the stairs.

Now that the senator was gone, she thought with a smirk, she was back, and she was getting what she wanted.