Previous Challenge Entry (Level 3 - Advanced)
Topic: Patience (08/21/08)
TITLE: Broken Hour Glass
By Ruth Neilson
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The Ruling Council had to be stopped.
Robert blinked as he carefully pulled his slim frame forward. He knew that patience was the key in this situation. There was no need to rush into his death--the fact he was here now was enough to sign his death warrant. Too many of his friends and family had decided to sign their own death warrant by declaring that they believed in an ancient religion. Robert had enough.
Carefully, he took a deep breath and waited for the next breeze. The voice of one of his missing friends echoed through his mind.
<i>"I realized something today," Sue muttered, wrapping her slim fingers around her coffee mug.
"What's that?" He asked, narrowing his dark eyes as he gazed at his co-worker.
"I can't pretend to be who I'm not any longer. I've registered with the religious council."</i>
The wind picked up again and Robert held his breath as he slowly itched forward. Only after he had settled again did he allow himself to release his breath. Sweat trickled down his face until it dripped off his nose.
His source said that the Ruling Council would sit down to their evening meal at 1800 hours.
Carefully, he glanced at his watch and nodded once. 1630. Plenty of time still to make it within sniping range. Robert knew that the field was less an acre long, and with the wind blowing at its current pace, it was just a matter of not being in a hurry.
<i>"Sue, that means that..."
"I know, I'll be arrested, interrogated, possibly used as slave labor, and eventually killed, but that's okay." </i>
Robert edged himself closer to the warm but imposing building. He could now see into the formal dinning room. It was just a matter of time; Robert looked at his watch again and nodded.
1745. Robert had fifteen minutes to spare...only fifteen minutes to calm his heart and breathing down and to be prepared.
There was no time for errors here.
With carefully practiced movements, Robert set up, making sure that the silencer was in place. The carefully selected ammunition was in the cartridge, locked and loaded.
It was now truly a waiting game.
A familiar form stepped in front of the window and Robert felt his concentration slip for a moment. It was Sue.
Here...he could free her...if Robert went now...
NO! Patience! Everything must go according to the plan. A man struck Sue's face and Robert flinched, as if he felt the impact himself. It was a matter of time.
He rested his finger against the trigger, watching and waiting. His watch slowly clicked closer to the chosen hour. Robert took several deep breaths, gazing through his scope.
The targets were entering the room. It had to be precise. Robert knew that as soon as the first target fell, he would have few precious seconds to finish his task.
The watch face clicked from 1759 to 1800 and on cue, the first target entered into his line of sight. Robert inhaled and carefully squeezed the trigger, breathing a prayer to whatever God existed that it found its mark.
He smiled grimly as the bullet found its mark and chaos erupted in the room. He found his next target and rapidly squeezed the trigger. So much was riding on this moment in history.
He spotted his final target, focused for one last time, before squeezing the trigger. He heard an unfamiliar click as he felt the cold metal of a barrel against his neck, but smiled. His patience had paid off as the final target slumped to the floor.
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