A cool breeze flew past 29 year old John Goodman, it caressed his cheek as it passed the bench he was currently sitting on. Taking one last puff of his cigarette before putting it out, he stood up. Looking around John seemed as if he were searching for someone. Before long he spotted someone and slowly made his way towards them.
'Shit my target this time had backup.'
Looking towards a 6ft blond man scenarios were running through his head. John was a hitman a pretty good one at that but, he had a rule never take on big jobs. That’s how you end up dead.
Seems like this time he had no one to blame, cursing himself for not going over the target's background before coming out here.
'There's only 2 of them, might as well go for it. In and out lets make
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Slowly they made their way towards the inner part of the park, thankfully a birthday party seemed to be going on.
Slowly he made his way closer and closer to the target hoping to find the right time to fire a shot. Usually John used poison as it was easier to get away once it was administered.
The situation currently however, doesn’t allow for that, his only choice was the glock he always carried.
The target made his way into a crowd of party goers, quickly John rushed forward getting right behind the man. Boom, before the 2 guards could even react John had gotten pointblank and let off a shot into his targets skull.
John was getting ready to run before he heard the sound of weapons being cocked. Turning around what he saw left him speechless, both guards had fucking machine guns.
'These assholes fuck, I guess that’s checkmate for me huh.'
That was the last thought of the hitman John Goodman, he had no family no friends. The last 2 people in this world that would know he even existed were the 2 guards that had killed him. He wasn't upset though, he knew this was coming someday you can't kill for a living and not expect that death will coming for your number at some