Dash (English original version)

 Senator Bern has been in the hateful eyes of the public for the last two months. His open association with a presumably terrorist cell financier, billionaire and consul Amir Ziyad, has raised many red flags in his party. 

There have been successful attacks from this organization since he started meeting with Ziyad. Ziyad has evaded international authorities for years now, even though there is no hard proof of him belonging to the terrorists; but the party cannot have that. House elections are closer now and they need to save face in front of the media, and Senator Bern –according to the polls— is dragging the numbers down. 

The party decides to make an awful move, to assassinate senator Bern before he makes his next financial contribution to the campaign. They don’t want the slightest rumour circulating around of having terrorist money in their accounts. Ziyad’s hosting a big party in town and has invited many politicians and ambassadors. That’s when and where Bern’s going to die. They hire the services of a private security contractor that guarantees zero ties.

…

The day comes. The sniper is in place some floors above the penthouse of a 5 building hotel complex. It’s night. Bern is supposed to be standing beside Ziyad and other politicians for the main toast of the event at exactly 10:45. The operation is a go. 

It’s 10:34 and the head of the party receives a visit from the regional director of the Mi6. Not surprised at all finding many party members gathered in the office at this hour, informs them that Senator Bern is working for the agency and has been winning the trust to infiltrate the inner circle of Ziyad. He demands to halt the operation in the instant. 

How did they (Mi6) know about the plan? Anyways, the time is short and they contact the contractor to abort the mission. Contractor answers that they cannot get hold of the sniper. Communications seem to be jammed. 

10:37. The Mi6 director urges with stoic resolve that senator Bern cannot be killed. He threatens to divulge secrets of the party that will surely bury them politically for no less than a decade. 

10:39, the contractor finally can get a message through to an agent in the field dressed as a waiter in the party. He rushes to the next building to tell the sniper in person. 

10:40. Halls, stairs, no elevators, for he cannot wait for them. 

10:42. Ziyad calls for the toast and gathers his most trusted friends to the stage with him. 

10:43, the door to the room where the agent sniper is positioned is locked. The agent has to make a choice and fast on how to approach his fellow agent without getting killed by him, and inform him of the mission’s abort. 

He kicks the door, and the sniper gets alerted. He takes out his 38 and looks for cover. Both are seizing each other in the dark of this office floor, among booths and glass walls. 

10:44, and there is very little noise apart from the crowd coming from the penthouse in front of this building. 

10:45, and the sniper decides to go back to his position. He has the senator in his scope. He breathes in, breathes out, counts backwards and pulls the trigger. 

Nothing happens. There is no magazine and no bullet in the barrel. 

“Freeze agent Dash” he hears just from above him. “Don’t dare go for your gun. I’m from central. Check your coms. Target is a code orange. Operation suspended. Check your coms, slowly.” 

The sniper agent realizes his radio is jammed. 

“Situation assessment?” he asks. 

“Senator Bern is an asset from Mi6” the other answers. “My earpiece was also jammed. I got text message on my emergency cell phone. Here’s your mag, and the bullet.” he throws them to the sniper. 

“That was a good move, agent. I see central has nice tactical training”, he crouches to disassemble his rifle. 

“Yes. We have quality instructors” field agent holsters his gun. “Never seen your code name before, Dash?” 

“Correct. I’m third party. I like to keep my options open. Your agency likes me so, we are in love hate relationship.” 

“Copy that. I trust the guys upstairs” 

“But this will set it on the hate side from now on.” He turns around –still crouching— aiming his 38 –silenced— and shoots the field agent twice. 

10:47 and the crowd is rising their glasses. The sniper lies down into position, inserts the mag, loads, breathes in, breathes out, counts backwards and pulls the trigger. 

The half full glass breaks, spilling the drink on the senator’s night suit. The stain of the champagne is red and spreads down his shirt and to the floor. Senator Bern falls to his own blood puddle.

......Koori