Quietly waiting, the air blows down the yard of the White House. The president is mingling, so is his double just incase something were to happen. But there are just too many people here to keep them all away from the president. The secret service litter the lawn with automatic weapon brave as can be waiting for anything out of the ordinary but so far everything looks clear. The pardoned Thanks giving Turkey gobbles from his little platform as the children from the local elementary school take pictures of it with their disposable cameras.
Someone inside the White House has made it clear that President Julius L. Smith is to be assassinated. A senator blaming the Vice President for putting the bounty up. But he was written off as delusional and was locked away in a board room being guarded by the secret service until after the party when he would be taken for further questioning. Ching, ching, ching! The president rose to speak and after careful watch this was not the double, this was the actual guy. Leader of the biggest super power alive, president of the United States of America.
Sniper on a bipod, close to a mile out sat Bad Dog on a local roof top. It had taken hours of planning but the money was worth it, all of it $2.5 Million dollars in all! He had already revived $1.5 of it but he was about to pull the trigger for the other million. A small torpedo shaped piece of metal shattered the glass in the presidents hand and he looked at the crowd with dead eyes. A glass had been raised in a toast to peace but now a bullet sat between his eyes.
The man fell, the 47th president of the United States was dead. November, 29 2032 was the thanksgiving no one for the next couple centuries would forget. Who did this? Who hired someone to do this?? Why, now that was the biggest question of all... Why??? Bad Dog folder up his bipod and slung his Sniper up putting it neatly piece by piece back into his saxophone case. "Contract Complete..." He said to himself before leaving the roof top.
Someone inside the White House has made it clear that President Julius L. Smith is to be assassinated. A senator blaming the Vice President for putting the bounty up. But he was written off as delusional and was locked away in a board room being guarded by the secret service until after the party when he would be taken for further questioning. Ching, ching, ching! The president rose to speak and after careful watch this was not the double, this was the actual guy. Leader of the biggest super power alive, president of the United States of America.
Sniper on a bipod, close to a mile out sat Bad Dog on a local roof top. It had taken hours of planning but the money was worth it, all of it $2.5 Million dollars in all! He had already revived $1.5 of it but he was about to pull the trigger for the other million. A small torpedo shaped piece of metal shattered the glass in the presidents hand and he looked at the crowd with dead eyes. A glass had been raised in a toast to peace but now a bullet sat between his eyes.
The man fell, the 47th president of the United States was dead. November, 29 2032 was the thanksgiving no one for the next couple centuries would forget. Who did this? Who hired someone to do this?? Why, now that was the biggest question of all... Why??? Bad Dog folder up his bipod and slung his Sniper up putting it neatly piece by piece back into his saxophone case. "Contract Complete..." He said to himself before leaving the roof top.
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