WHAT. WHAT. e____e Fine, Anon, I’ll bite.
Conndi; White House:
President Connor’s eyes creak open at the sound of something creaking next to his window. He turns over in his bed, eyes focusing in the dark of midnight. He remains silent, scrutinizing the space for any signs of disturbance. Seconds pass. His imagination, he thinks, and nothing more. No one could get past his Secret Service.
He turns over and goes back to sleep.
Behind the curtain, the assassin smirks. She raises her revolver, aims, and fires.
The shot can be heard around the world.
Di dumps the evidence in the river, after a thorough wiping of the gun. She deftly removes the leather gloves and places them into her back pocket. Hands freed, she flips open the cellphone and presses the speed dial for one.
“It’s been done,” she informs her employer as soon as the ringing stops.
“Well done, Di,” replies Anonymous. "Did he see it coming?“
”‘Fraid not, sir. I’m afraid no one saw it coming,“ she says primly.
A smile is heard through the phone.
"And my payment?” she insists.
“Will be wired to you shortly, Agent."
She flips the phone closed and walks across the bridge, never once turning back.