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My story – Natalie chapter three

April 28, 2016

Chapter three

It took several days. My willpower won in the end and the boy was pushed from my mind.

Day after day I watched my target, becoming familiar with her patterns, learning her movements by heart. Soon I would infiltrate her life and I had to know every move she might make before she made it, every word she might say before she said it. I had to know her like I knew myself.

Her artwork was an intrigue. It was not imperative to my mission. I couldn’t help but find myself drawn to it nonetheless. Bright bold colors, focused perspective, light and shade. These images came from inside her, was once a part of her. She was driven to her easel day after day. What was behind her need? To understand her work would be to understand her and vice versa.

Tomorrow I would become her friend. Tomorrow I would stop being myself and would become Bethany Hobbs, Personal Assistant to Ronald Peterson and the woman who could make her career. For today, I was still me. Silent, deadly, unknown.

Thirty minutes earlier I changed out the memory card from the camera and was settled deep within my chair. It was cooler today, the air chilled my skin though I refused to cover up. I could handle a little cold. I could handle a lot of cold. My comfort was not a concern. Why I dropped my binoculars and thus my gaze to the floor below I will never know. Something urged me to look. A need or tickle at the base of my spine demanded that I look. I expected to see the child.

A man stood in the window. He stared across the street. Not at the traffic below, not at the stars above. At me. He was staring directly at me. And he was holding a gun.

Damnit! I threw myself back in my chair as shots exploded into the wall behind me. I hit the ground, rolled into the shadows of the room and sprang up, pistols in both hands.

The man was gone.

I’d been made.

I had to go.



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