Typed

Agent 3142 reporting, 31 March 1989, target killed, mission accomplished. I typed nonchalantly into the typewriter, as I did for the past decade, reporting to duty every week. My job was an assassin, blatantly speaking, I killed for no reason, I was born to kill which was why the organisation was in favour of me […]

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Double Agent

Hanging in the skies by the suspending ladder of the chopper, he was beneath the city to infiltrate the system from below, me above. The shotgun was in my hand, fitted with a scope, I took out several soldiers in a shot, the rounds split into tens of fires, invoking some unwarranted attention to me. […]

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