Your life wasn't easy. It wasn't peaceful or happy. You spied and killed people. You didn't hate your life, because at the moment, you were in Italy, disguised as a normal civilian, with no contact from family or friends, all alone, and it was thrilling. You attended funerals where you didn't know who the mourners were.

Today wasn't any different. You discovered your target had been killed. You told your team, and they asked you to go, so you prepared and went. You didn't know who did it, so you were going to observe and try to guess who did it, and if they were even at the funeral.

It was 3 p.m., and it was raining. It was cloudy, so depressing, so perfect for a funeral. You got out of your black Maserati, your heels clanking on the pavement as you stepped out. You took your purse and umbrella and then closed and locked the car door. You opened your umbrella as you walked into the cemetery. Several other cars were parked nearby. You walked over to the ceremony and observed, listening as you looked at everyone. People were dressed in all black, which raised your suspicions. You knew this was normal, and so were you, wearing black, but the way they just stood there, not seeming to show any remorse, raised your suspicions. One man in particular, standing with a group of people but at the front, caught your attention. If you looked closely, you could notice a slight bulge at the hem of his pants, and when he shifted, a bit of shiny metal was visible under his vest.