Saturday, December 12, 2009

Target -- a Blake's Seven story

He lay against the cold stone wall of the building, holding tightly to the energy rifle for the little warmth it afforded. The night grew colder and the rifle wasn't enough to keep him warm on the roof of the building overlooking the street below as he waited for his target to come out of the restaurant.

It wasn't that he wanted to be here, he really had no choice since the Federation was holding his family hostage until the job was finished. He was told that they were all right in a good place, and kept safe until his return. He knew the planet well as he had done a few jobs there during what he called his "other life." Before he met Cora. Then, the two children. An assassin's life wasn;t one that could be shared with a family. First, it was diapers, then baby food, and finally school. He stopped accepting off planet jobs, then quit all together. He held a good job and the house was almost paid for, until the day they weren't home and he saw the message left on the machine. He really had no choice.

He felt the hum of the hover long before its lights tried to invade his hiding place. He lowered himself closer to the concrete roof. The cold bit through his light pants and jacket.

The lights passed overhead, and the hover moved on through the night on its rounds.

He raised up to look over the short wall; cars passed below, and people walked on their way to whatever destenation they had in mind. He looked through the glass door of the restaurant he was watching. the people he was waiting for were moving toward the door, and began to walk out. The first, he didn;t recognize, a curly-haired man who looked rather young to be hanging around that lot, he thought. The second was also curly-haired, quite a bit darker but he wasn't interested in her, right now anyway...

The next to come through the door was blonde. He knew her from his "other life," as she had helped him on some of the early assignments when he needed the help.

The last, ah, the last. HE walked out the door and into the night air and toward the street.

One last check of the rifle; full pack, sight on, everything perfect.

He rested the rifle ont he wall and looked through the sight to his target below. He followed him away from teh door and along the walk till the shot was good. The bolt crossed the space between the rilfe and the intended target. He watched... as the head moved out of the sight just as the bolt was to meet him. It impacted the wall behind the head, shattering the brick into fragments.

He looked long enough to see them pull out the wicked looking sidearms, then he fell behind the barrier. He heard them yelling about him. Then, he heard the whine. He peeked back over the wall, and they were gone. All the was left for him was to leave the area, and hope for the continued welfare of his family.

He deactivated the rifle and stared into the night sky, searching the stars for some sign.

I'll get you, Roj Blake, if I have to chase you across the galaxy to do it, I will hunt you down and kill you.

I swear.


(This story was probably written when I was in high school, and needs a bit of a re-write. I can some palces where the wording is off and the grammar could be better. I'm quite proud of this one though, it's been puliched twice. Once in the late 80's and again in 1994. So, if you have any plans that you can steal it, think again. I hold the copyright and have the 'zine to prove it. No matter, I hope you enjoyed it, and I might just put more up here.)

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