Eliminating the CEO

“What were the latest numbers? No, tell him no deal!” One of the world’s most powerful CEOs was ranting over his Bluetooth earpiece as he locked the door to his penthouse behind him. He had made himself a lot of enemies over the years. Tonight, he would finally reap what he has sowed.

I smirk from my hiding place behind the couch as I firmly grasp my knife. As my target enters the kitchen he continues ranting. I slowly rise from my spot and quickly crouch walk towards him. My heart nearly stopped as he abruptly turned around. I would’ve been caught if by some stroke of luck I hadn’t already been near a desk which I was able to rapidly yet silently dash under to hide.

After my nerves settled and my target was busy prepping himself his last drink, I begin creeping towards him once more. This is too easy, especially considering the price on his head.

As my target pours his scotch, I crouch out of sight behind the wall to the kitchen. I’m now within 25 feet of my target. My next move is to creep a few more feet then to quickly rise, rush him, and simultaneously cover his mouth so he can’t scream while plunging my knife into his back. He’ll be dead in seconds.

My target is busy putting the scotch bottle back in the cupboard when I decide it’s time. As I creep the last few feet before my ultimate strike, my target, with his hand still in the cupboard, calmly speaks to the caller, “Hey John, one second.” I sense something is wrong so I begin to sprint forward with my knife raised, poised to attack. Alas, my would be victim pulls his hand from the cupboard and with unbelievable speed pivots to face me. In one fluid move, he falls to one knee whilst also leveling the silenced pistol he pulled from its hiding place in the cupboard at my chest and squeezes off three shots. They all hit me square in the middle of my chest. I drop my knife and fall to the ground, soon to perish. Evidently I had missed something when I had swept the apartment for weapons.

I was breathing my last breathes trying to figure out where I, a highly trained and skilled assassin, went wrong, while my assailant resumed his call. “John, I’m back. Yes, another assassin. Third one this month. The joys of being a CEO who also runs a group of assassins, but the Wolf lives on.”

I smiled as I took my final breathes. I can’t believe Alexander Sarnov was the Wolf! I wish my client had told me that, if he even knew. He may not have known, after all Sarnov is hated as a CEO just as much as the Wolf is hated as a crime boss. Both are wanted dead, and I guess this is how Sarnov managed to survive despite his many enemies.

I let out a small chuckle as I drew my last gasp of air. This startled the hardened killer before me who stopped ignoring me and stared down upon me as I passed, happy in the knowledge that if I had to die at least it was at the hands of a worthy foe.

I previously published a version of this fictional story on Quora and Medium.