One
Daniel took a breath as he opened the case. He smiled, looking at the tools of his trade. He slowly, meticulously, began assembling the sniper rifle he would use to kill his major rival.
Number one my ass, he thought as he fixed on a scope that could zoom into a target more than a thousand yards away. When he had finished, he polished his toy, set it up on the ground, went flat on his stomach and put his eye to the scope.
He took his time lining up the gun. After all, he knew the train wouldn’t arrive for another three hours, but once it did, he would be lucky if he had more than 30 seconds. He was perched on a hill overlooking the train. It was a simple shot — minimum air resistance, a beautiful, bright day, and a clear area, making it easy to zone in on the target. Under these conditions, Daniel thought he could shoot the leaf out of an ant’s claws a hundred yards away.
He finished lining up his sights and began the hours-long wait.
He couldn’t believe the “number 1” would make it this easy. But then, he knew the man was slipping. Daniel had always hated him. From the moment he joined the organisation and took over his number-one spot, Daniel resented him and aired out his grievances to anyone who bothered to listen. He was elated when number one had defected, and the resident number two was sent to kill him. I knew he was scum, Daniel said when he heard the news.
The task was simple. They had intel that number one was going to be on this particular train. All Daniel had to do was kill him, and he would get his spot back as number one.
An hour had passed.
Daniel wondered why a man would even try to leave the organisation in the first place. Every Number knew that the only way to leave was by death. And yet, the man ran away. He hissed in disgust. If “number one” suddenly grew a conscience, it was too little, too late.
The second hour passed. Daniel was alert.
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He would kill the man and gain the glory. He hesitated, remembering what the boss said. “If you can’t do it, well, we’ve got 109 other Numbers that would love to try… at both of you.”
Daniel heard the rumbling of the train. This was it — his time to shine. He cleared his mind and then focused on the scope just as the train was coming into view. He scanned everybody on the train as it roared past. He held his breath when he saw him. He was in the third car. It was mostly empty apart from a handful of travellers and a train attendant sitting stiffly in the corner of the car. His target was right in the centre, in a perfect line of fire.
Almost too perfect, Daniel thought, but he quickly reassured himself. Number one wasn’t that good. He was simply a man who was slipping.
He’s oblivious to what’s about to happen.
He breathed. He counted. Three, two, one. He squeezed the trigger.
The bullet tore through the glass window. It made contact with its target, embedding itself in the neck before flying out through the other end. Blood exploded from the exit wound. The body rocked from the impact and fell to the floor.
The passengers reacted first. Daniel watched as they began screaming and trying to take cover under the chairs. He wasn’t going to shoot anyone else. His task had been accomplished. He watched as the train attendant got up and walked to the body just as the car left his line of sight.
The train attendant hovered over the body and examined his handiwork. The doll was a spitting image of him — enough to fool the sniper the organisation sent. He almost laughed, thinking about who it was — probably that number two, thinking he finally got me.
He took off the hat that came with the uniform he stole and used it to cover the doll’s face. It took some time to calm the travellers down. He assured them they would get rid of it by the next stop.
Number one finally took his seat again, removed a picture from his inner coat and smiled. For better or worse, he would finally meet his daughter.
