Oscar the Assassin

Oscar the Assassin

Oscar the Assassin
By John Carter
Last Updated: August 22, 2009

The sun crept over the distant mountains, casting a yellowish glow across the morning sky. As the soft sunlight illuminated the rose bushes, the fully bloomed white roses seemed to almost glow, as if they were lite from with in. A gentle breeze drifted slowly up the hillside from the tree lined creek to the south of the mansion causing the roses and other flowers in the immaculately cared for garden to sway silently in the morning haze. The dancing stems of the flora cast hazy shadows against the brightly white painted block wall, a wall that caused Oscar to be silhouetted against it as he made his way up the gently sloped terrain.

Oscar was suddenly concerned. He may have blown his chance to eliminate his target. As a trained and hired assassin, Oscar knew that even the smallest mistakes could result in failing at his task. Worse, yet, he might be caught in the act, which could not only put him at extreme peril but could also greatly increase the likelihood of not completing his mission in the future. The target, if alerted to the threat, would certainly take future steps to protect itself from harm. Oscar could not, would not allow that. His pride, his reputation, his future employment rested on completing each task timely and professionally.

A professionalist at everything from his work to daily grooming, Oscar had no tolerance for mistakes. And today had been mistake ridden. From the time he rolled out of bed to now, it had been one mistake after the next. It started by over sleeping in the first place, but he had been out way to late the night before. A perfectionist certainly, but his one down bringing was he could not resist, as some would crudely say it, “Out cattin’ and chasing tail”. But Oscar did like his ladies and his ladies adored him, especially his hazel-green eyes and his lean, muscular body. Late out of bed, then breakfast was late being served and the list goes on and on. But time was of essence and Oscar had to complete his mission today. Another mission was already being arranged for and this one had already gone on too long.

Ever since accepting this target, Oscar had patiently watched, stalked and monitored the gray haired subject for days. This one was a creature of habit, Oscar thought to himself. Not knowing his real name, Oscar named him Jerry. Oscar preferred to not know the real names of his targets, that kept it impersonal, just a job. Oscar never asked for a name, he not did care. His job was to fix problems. And Jerry was a problem.

Damn, his mind was wondering again. Maybe he was getting too old for this kind of work. But this was the only work he knew. It was instinctive. It was part of his being. It was almost as if he was born just for this line work. He had kin folk, in fact two brothers, who were, in his opinion, useless. They basically just laid around doing nothing, nothing at all. Well except for eating, sleeping and daily bathes, about all they did was stare out the window watching the world go by. They looked down on Oscar’s chosen livelihood with disdain. Well, Oscar looked down on their chosen lack of a livelihood with equal disdain. Although on some mornings casually sleeping until almost noon and waking only long enough to move to a sunny spot by a window and go back to sleep did have a certain amount of appeal. Well, too late now to look back and change the past. He had made his choices and he had to accept them.

There was Jerry. His head covered in short, gray hair, just visible beyond edge of the garden. He was looking straight at Oscar! Oscar plastered himself just a little lower behind a close grouping of plants that released an odor that Oscar found offensive. Why on earth would people spend good money planting and caring for these things? Not his problem, he thought. Jerry looked another direction. The sun was just peaking over the eastern mountains and breaking through the trees. Soon there would be too much light for Oscar to approach Jerry without being noticed. As Jerry continued to look away, Oscar quickly and extremely quietly moved along the wall to another group of plants 4 feet closer to Jerry and now less then 20 feet away. Oscar barely breathed. Not a sound at all could be risked.

Jerry, oblivious to his pending fate, continued to enjoy a small salad like breakfast at the edge of garden. Some more quick steps, Oscar now was almost with in striking distance. Although not a youngster, Oscar knew that Jerry was spry and fast. He could not risk any movement that might give Jerry any advance warning. Oscar was an old fashioned soldier. Trained by his father, Oscar was a “do- it-physically” kind of liquidator. So Oscar had to get closer still, close enough to leap and strike in one move.

Jerry looked around from left to right then left again. He was a creature of habit. He always looked first left, then right then left again. It was this habit that allowed Oscar to slowly, quietly move closer and closer to Jerry on Jerry’s right side. By knowing that he would look left first, Oscar could plan and time his moves so that he would be frozen in place and hidden by the time Jerry pivoted his head back to the right.

Another scamper and Oscar was nearly on top of Jerry. Most importantly he was close enough that with one final lunge, he would be atop of Jerry and Jerry would be removed from his ‘to-do’ list. Wait, wait, wait Oscar thought. Even though he was so close, Jerry could foil his plans if it was not timed perfectly.

The sun was now clearly over the crests of the mountains and that darn white wall was brightly lit. Oscar was certain that he would have to make his move as surely Jerry would look to his right and maybe look just a bit more then normal and see Oscar crouched there.

Jerry looked left – Oscar froze – Jerry swung his head to the right then back to the left, Oscar made his move. Jerry was finished before he knew what happened.

It being time to collect his reward, Oscar return to his employer’s office with proof his completing his mission. “Damn it”, yelled the boss’ wife. “Oscar just brought in another dead mouse. Why can’t you have one of those cats that just lays around cleaning itself all day?”

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