The Assassin by Laurence

He rubbed his gloved hand backwards over his shaven head, down his jaw line towards his chin where there was the start of a misshapen scar.  His gloved hand followed the scar up over his face towards his eyes.  Cold and as dark as night, his piercing eyes stared back at him as he looked in the rear view mirror.  The scar on his face could tell many stories.  He looked quickly around at the snow covered suburban landscape checking no one was watching before reaching across the passenger seat and calmly opened the glove compartment to reveal a silenced USP tactical pistol. He briefly slid the gleaming pistol into its holster beneath his furry brown bearskin jacket and stepped out of the car.
His feet landed with a gentle crunch on the tightly packed snow underneath. The cold air seeped into his lungs and chilled him though to the bone as he took a first long icy breath. He took another long breath and watched it turn to vapour and rise away. An icy snow flake landed on the back of his neck as he looked at the crystal sky, making him momentarily shiver before he pulled up his furry hood and walked off towards a set of large grey concrete buildings in the arctic white distance, illuminated by the pale moon overhead.
He walked swiftly with his hooded head down to avoid attention, looking up only to check he was going in the right direction. He passed rows and rows of small, shabby snow covered houses and burnt out cars before reaching a large set of stainless steel gates with an intercom attached. Behind them were the large grey concrete buildings, and the target. His problem now was how to get past the gates. He thought about climbing the walls surrounding the compound, but the idea was wiped from his thoughts as he noticed the guard towers behind them, and more importantly the fact that the guards in them had M14 automatic rifles cradled in their arms. A miniature private army. As he stood there thinking about what to do, he noticed a nearby parked delivery van. He had found a way in.
He casually strolled over to the van. It looked empty. He peered though the window. It was empty. Result! He had a quick look around, before sharply hitting the door handle with his elbow. Moments later he was rewarded with a satisfying click. He yanked the door open and climbed in. Acting quickly he ducked underneath the steering wheel and within seconds had the car hotwired. The engine growled into life. He slowly drove up to steel gates. He rolled down the window and pressed the frozen intercom button. A sleepy Russian voice erupted from the intercom and seemed to split the air.
“Yes?”
“Delivery for Mister Klein,” he answered back in impeccable Russian.
There was a grunt at the other end of the intercom and the gates creaked open. He drove through quickly and headed straight for the widest and most secure concrete building in the centre. It reminded him of a nuclear bunker. He parked the van round the back of it and was relieved not to find a welcome party waiting for him. He exited the van quickly and found a back door to the ‘bunker’. He put his ear against it to check that nobody was waiting on the other side. Once he was satisfied he opened it swiftly and slid inside. He hugged the walls as he moved through the complex, looking for a set of stairs leading down to an underground level. He froze as he heard a set of heavy boots and a pair of deep Russian voices advancing down the corridor towards him. He had to think fast. Soon they would turn the corner ahead of him and he would be spotted. He saw a cupboard ahead on the left. A possible lifeline. He ran for it and dived inside. He listened closely to the footsteps coming nearer and nearer. They eventually stopped, right outside the cupboard. Then, to his relief they turned and started to walk away. He didn’t want to have to kill anybody just yet. He waited five minutes before exiting the cupboard and continuing down the corridor as normal.
Eventually he found the set of stairs he had been looking for and continued down them. A high tech reinforced door stood in his way at the bottom of the stairs. Unfazed he reached into his pocket and removed a basic screwdriver, the best hacking gear in the world, provided you knew what to do. As he started to work on the key pad he got a pleasant surprise, when the door clicked and hissed and started to open.  His joy was short lived as he heard a single pair of feet on the other side. There was no time to pull his gun out. The guard stepped through the door and stopped before grunting and silently collapsing forwards, revealing a screwdriver lodged in the back of his head. The door started to close, so he quickly stepped out of the shadows behind the guard and moved the limp body into the gap, before stepping over it, through the door, and down into the lower levels.
He quickly found the room simply entitled ‘Mr. Klein’ and knocked on the door. A sleepy looking man answered.  The assassin had found his prey. He shoved the now startled Mr. Klein, whose eyes were wide with terror, back into his room.
“What do you want?” choked Mr Klein in coarse Russian.
“America says hello,” the assassin replied in a taunting, cruel voice.
Before he could react Mr. Klein felt a gun invade his mouth. He looked at his killer wondering how he had moved so fast, his face contorted with terror. Without fuss, the assassin pulled the trigger. Blood and brains exploded from the back of the man’s head, staining the wall behind a sickly red. No sound was made due to the silencer, except the gentle thud as Mr Klein’s body hit the floor. The assassin was pleased with his work ... so far. He then placed the pistol in Mr. Klein’s heavy hand, coiling his fingers round the trigger, before removing the other dead body from the reinforced door back along the corridor  and lying it down next to Mr. Klein. He dislodged the screwdriver from the man’s head and pocketed it. The other man dying had not been planned but this was a murder scene that was sure to baffle the Russians for years. He moved swiftly out of the room, closing the door behind him. Retracing his steps he soon found his way back to the van, it was exactly where he left it. He once more started up the engine and drove away. No alarms sounded until he was passed the main gates and out of the compound. He was safe. Job done.