Kaspar parallel parked the black SUV in front of the small one bedroom home. He looked down at the sheet of paper. George Mason…he would be the first. Kaspar folded the paper back up and placed it in the glove compartment. His entire day had been spent on planning out his revenge. The excitement of finally getting his vengeance was suddenly replaced by anxiety and, most of all, fear. He had more to lose now than he did several weeks ago. Krys would be waiting for him when he got finished. If he was able to pull this off without getting killed first. He didn’t want to disappoint her. For a brief moment, he wished that he didn’t have feelings for her, because that would have made this easier by a mile.
The greatest risk he took the whole day was when he paid a visit to the precinct where the three Agents worked. He felt anger when he saw Mason and Wilcox walk out of the station for the day. It took every ounce of reason in his mind to prevent him from ending it then. They seemed to not have a care in the world. He noticed that Wilcox even had a look of joy when conversing with his partner. That joy would end soon. It did feel strange to Kaspar, though, when he didn’t see Sullivan enter or leave the station the entire day. That gut feeling that he was being set up was reinforced, but there would be no going back now.
The engine was shut off with the turn of the key. When he opened the door, a clap of thunder from above startled him. Soon after, a light rain started to fall. The droplets of water splashed against the top of his mask. He walked over to the passenger side door, opened it, and then reached in for the two thigh holsters with the Glocks fastened inside. After he tightened the holsters around, he looked to the Mason residence. He hesitated for a moment, unsure if he should get back in the vehicle and go meet up with Krys.
Now or never.
Kaspar began to move his legs forward. Mason’s home was a modest one story house in nice, quiet neighborhood. The yellow paint and green shutters had a fresh look to it, as if the bastard had just remodeled the place. When he approached the sidewalk, Kaspar kept looking from left to right, ensuring that nobody approached. He reached the front gate, unlatched it, then left it open behind him. The overhang over the porch provided relief from the rain that started to increase in intensity. Another clap of thunder caught him by surprise once more.
After he pulled out a Glock with his right hand, he moved his left to the door handle. Out of curiosity, he turned the knob. As expected, it was locked, and Kaspar suddenly realized with all his planning he failed to think of a way to break into a locked house. He went for the window to the right. He peered inside the darkness of the house. No lights and no movement from inside. With a sharp blow from his left elbow the glass cracked. He waited for someone inside to come out at the sound. Nothing. Kaspar looked around to see if anyone might have been out and about saw or heard anything. Again, nothing. He exhaled and then, as quietly as possible, punched away at the glass. He reached in and unlocked the window.
Kaspar pulled the window up and moved inside, left leg first. When he made it in he aimed his pistol forward. A terrible creaking sound from the wooden floors accompanied his first step. He froze and kept his pistol aimed. He took another, more careful step, and moved towards the back of the house. The silence and darkness of the house creped him out some. The street lamps outside did little justice to the blackness. He had this uneasy feeling that this was indeed a trap. Or, maybe, Mason was not at home right now. Both options were unattractive. If it were a trap, he’d have no shot at vengeance. If Mason was late getting home, he would no longer have the element of surprise. Either way, it was out of his hands. He just needed to keep moving forward.
Once through the living room he made it to the kitchen. He looked left. The green numbers from the oven illuminated the counters somewhat. In front was the hallway that led to the bedrooms. As he entered the hallway, the adrenaline that flowed through his blood stream heightened his awareness. At the bottom of the door to the left came a little light from underneath. When he got closer to the door he could hear a woman’s voice. He must have been watching the news. Mason would be in there, Kaspar was sure of it.
He reached for the door with his left hand. With the pistol gripped in his right. He tried to slow his breathing. All of a sudden he heard the giggling sound from a woman. Kaspar paused, his hand still gripped on the handle. Did he get the wrong house? There was only one way to find out. He breathed one more time. The woman, judging by the direction of the sound, would be on the left. If Mason was in there, he would be on the right.
The grip on the handle was so tight that Kaspar felt like he would rip it right out of the door. He continued his slow, steady breaths. He was calm. His mission would be over in a matter of seconds. There was a hope that the innocent woman inside wouldn’t get caught in the cross fire. It was a chance Kaspar was willing to take.
The door flew open with hard push. The woman screamed. The television set inside created a small, bluish light. Mason sat upright on the right side of the bed, as predicted. His woman threw her body on top of his. With a hard shove, Mason pushed her off of him. Through the tinted eye holes, Kaspar felt a sense of disappointment that there was no fear in the man’s eyes. No matter, pretty soon, he wouldn’t have any facial expressions at all. His target started to reach for something…
“Don’t even think about it.” Kaspar ordered.
“Who the fuck are you?” Mason demanded.
Without an answer, Kaspar pulled the trigger two times. The bullets tore through Mason’s bare chest. Mason started to gasp for air as his eyes went wide. The woman’s screams were muted in Kaspar’s ears. He allowed the target to try and breathe for a few moments. Satisfied, he ended it with one shot between the eyes. The woman rolled off the bed. Her screams grew louder as she cried for help.
Kaspar stood and stared down Mason’s motionless body. He then turned his attention to Mason’s woman. He pointed the gun at her and hoped that she wouldn’t make him have to kill her, too.
“What are you going to do?” the woman cried. “Shoot me now?”
He said nothing and moved backwards. He kept the Glock pointed at the woman until she was out of view. He then turned and ran for the door. As he pulled the door open only one thing could be heard.