The hero.

“Take him down No.1, take him down,” the chiefs voice repeated into No.1’s ear piece.

“Target neutralised,” he shouted back, as he gestured for the target to kneel with his hands on his head. Looking through his sight no.1 could see the old mans hard facial features. A face carved out of dispensing misery to thousands during his life. How much joy he could bring wiping out this excuse for a human.

The red dot resting right between the targets eyes should have made pulling the trigger easy, he had been taught to act quickly and decisively. Today however the crimson overspill of the red dot was painting the facial features of a helpless old man making him hesitate.

A quick movement brought him back to the present, as the targets hand reached for something. Acting on instinct No.1 pulled trigger, too late, fleeing he could see the white reflection of the initial blast ahead of him. Then he was flying, the noise in his ear piece getting softer as the blast over took him destroying everything in its path.

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