You have trained to have amazing physical abilities, you’re an assassin after all.

You stand in an alley-way waiting for your target to appear outside the bar. A tall and broad man exits the building and you grab him. You press your gun against his head, and suddenly yours eyes widen as you feel the familiar cold metal of a gun pressed up to your temple. The man’s eyes seem emotionless, he was also an assassin. You feel a bead of sweat dripping down your face.

“What’s wrong sweetheart?”