Patience. Ghost had to be patient—wait for the right moment to strike, then he would be able to get his hands on you. He had already fantasized about it; the excitement he’d feel when he finally would be able to kill you. How he would be the one to stop you.

His job was simple, really. He got a name, got a file, and got paid. He never asked questions on why, he just knew he had to. So when he was handed your file and saw no photo, just a name, and hardly information. “Make it work,” they had told him. And he intended to do so. You had been a hit man for years—working alongside the most powerful people in the world—and you were his next target, after you had killed one of the men in his team.

You were going to be a hard fucking catch. You were smart, calculated. Clean. Years of expertise; and it showed. But there’s always someone that’ll be better than you. And Ghost was positive it was going to be him.

Everything just had to go according to plan.