The Rooftop.
Forty minutes later, Hunter pushed open the heavy steel door to the roof.
He was twenty stories up, the wind whipping at his jacket. He walked to the edge and scanned the perimeter.
"Good spot," he muttered.
The Continental's logistics team knew their business. This apartment complex was the tallest structure in the district, offering an unobstructed line of sight to the private airfield several kilometers away.
He set the heavy case down and flipped the latches.
Click. Click.
He assembled the McMillan TAC-50 with practiced ease. The barrel locked into place. The bolt slid home. He mounted the massive 16x scope.
Within minutes, the anti-materiel rifle was resting on its bipod, pointed toward the highway.
"Hunter," a voice crackled in his earpiece. "Are you in position?"
"In position," Hunter replied, peering through his laser rangefinder. He pinged several landmarks on the highway to confirm distances.
"Copy that. You have one shot. The convoy will reach the kill box in seven to ten minutes. We can only stall them for about 120 seconds."
"Understood."
Hunter settled in behind the rifle, tuning out the chatter on the comms.
While he waited, he reviewed the mission brief.
A Continental client—a wealthy businessman—had been scammed out of tens of millions by a rival. Furious, the client paid $2 million for a contract.
A local assassin took the job. He infiltrated the target's villa last night but underestimated the target's paranoia. The villa was a fortress of traps and armed guards. The assassin triggered a trap, got cornered, and was killed.
Standard occupational hazard.
But then things got messy.
The target, a cunning and ruthless operator, realized the hit came from his former partner. He called the client, confirmed it, and issued a death threat.
Now the client was panicking, demanding protection. Cole, needing to maintain the hotel's reputation, promised to fix it.
Intel revealed the target was fleeing to the airport to fly out and kill the client personally.
Cole needed a long-range solution. His usual snipers were out of town or unavailable.
Enter Hunter.
With his new Lv3 Firearm Mastery skill (gained from handling the DEA armory loot), Hunter had quickly familiarized himself with the TAC-50's mechanics.
"Hunter. Convoy is visual. Approaching the kill box."
"Target is in the third vehicle. Black SUV. License plate [REDACTED]."
Hunter pressed the comms. "Copy."
He adjusted his scope.
Through the optics, he saw the four-car convoy speeding down the highway.
Ahead of them, a large semi-truck pulled out from a side road and blocked the lanes.
Continental logistics, Hunter noted. Subtle.
The convoy screeched to a halt about a hundred meters from the truck. A guard from the lead car got out to yell at the truck driver.
Hunter ignored him.
"Range: 1,250 meters," he calculated.
He focused on the third vehicle.
Through the high-powered glass, he couldn't see the face of the target clearly due to the angle, but he knew the seating protocol. VIP in the rear right seat.
He adjusted for windage. He accounted for the Coriolis effect.
He exhaled slowly.
His finger tightened on the trigger.
BOOM!
The TAC-50 roared like a cannon. The recoil kicked hard against his shoulder.
A .50 BMG round screamed through the air, covering over a kilometer in less than two seconds.
Thud.
Through the scope, Hunter saw the roof of the black SUV punch inward. The round punched through the metal, through the seat, and into the target.
Chaos erupted on the highway. Guards scrambled from the other cars, swarming the third vehicle.
Hunter kept his eye on the scope, finger ready for a follow-up shot.
Seconds later, a voice buzzed in his ear.
"Target down. Chest cavity destroyed. Confirmed KIA."
"Nice work, Hunter. Exfiltrate immediately."
Hunter disassembled the rifle in record time, packing it back into the case.
He walked to the stairwell door.
One shot. One kill.
Even after the hotel's cut, he'd cleared over a million dollars in an hour. Plus double Contribution Points and two Gold Coins. And he'd done a massive favor for Cole.
"Not bad for a rookie," Hunter smirked.
He took the elevator down to the waiting extraction car.
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