It was a stiffling afternoon. The everyday sounds of a busy residential area enveloped him as he remained hidden in an alcove. Tuning out the noises, he listened intently. The trees stood quiet, the leaves silent. “No wind”, he thought and that suited him fine. As he waited for his target, he reflected on what he was about to do.

Looking at him, one would say he was young, an age when patience was a rarity. He, on the other hand was able to tap into a reserve which helped him immensely on days like today. Turning back to his scope, all he saw was the empty path. “He is late”, he thought. Usually, his target would be on his way by now. He had been in this same location every day for the past week and knew his target’s behavior well. It would take under a minute for him to pass security, though they hardly bothered giving him a second glance anymore. The target’s long strides would cover the next 100 yards quickly and would turn the bend, the place where this would end.

He heard voices in the distance, glancing out, a smile grew on his face. This was it, the moment. Rechecking his weapon, he focussed on the task at hand. The target was near, he pulled the trigger and he had found his mark. “Aaaah!”, came a loud cry and the target dropped the bags he was carrying.

Wiping away the water from his face, all the father could see was the scampering feet of his son, squirt gun in hand.