I'mma just leave this here...

Kierston perched on the sill of an abandoned office building window. Thousands of people lined the square, chattering excitedly at the chance to meet the universe's greatest heroes, the Paladins of Voltron. Kierston leered at them; their brightly colored costumes could easily mark their location to anyone who wanted them dead. It seemed as though they had no common sense. What was a hero who didn't consider the smallest enemies? She rolled her eyes. Best stay focused.

Kierston's trained eyes wandered the square. Children flew kites, couples held hands, women chatted, and some men were indulging themselves in a saké-drinking contest. Her frustration grew as her gaze darted around the square. Her fist clenched. "He lied to me," she growled.

Wait. Her focus fell on a shady figure swiftly moving toward the Paladins of Voltron. His raven hair was slicked back and tied at the nape of his head. A small brand peeked out from under his bomber jacket. Mirrored aviator sunglasses hid his eyes, rather a silly notion since the sky was already dark with storm clouds.

Kierston smirked. "Gotcha." She grabbed the black precision rifle from the corner she left it in. After adjusting the scope and attaching the silencer, Kierston hefted it to her shoulder, her cheek lightly touching the stock. She scanned the square again, easily spotting her target hurrying toward the stage. She'd have a few seconds to get away before anyone could place the origin of the bullet. 

Two other men from his gang readily charged through the crowds on the opposing sides of the square. 'Great,' Kierston thought. 'More bodies.' Her brow furrowed. And more time spent to neutralize the threat. Wait a second. "They aren't seriously…"

The men vaulted onto the back of the stage.

Kierston's breath hitched. "Idiots." It felt like time was slowing around her, the only thing stopping her her fear. Kierston sucked in a breath.

Steady…

Aim…

Breathe…

Kierston squeezed the trigger.

The bullet flew waverlessly toward its target, nailing the man in the chest. He went down instantly.

The next victim fell just as quickly. Only the main mark left. 

Before Kierston could fire her next round, the gang leader snatched a nearby child from his mother. Pointing his handgun at the boy's temple, he barked out a command to the Paladins. Kierston sat there for a moment. What in the living hell was going on here?

The Paladins slowly put their hands up in surrender, realizing that if they made any sudden moves to rescue the boy, they might end up killing him. Kierston seethed. Even though she knew what they were doing was the right way to handle the situation, she was rather annoyed that they didn't even bother to try to save the boy.

The target's jacket was bullet-proof, even to the strongest ammunition. However, he tended to leave a bit of the top part of the zipper unzipped, leaving a bit of his chest exposed. If Kierston did it right (which she usually did), she could hit him in that small weak spot just over the aorta. It would be bloody, but it would resolve both problems at hand.

Kierston once again lifted the rifle to her cheek, sighting very carefully as not to shoot the boy. Finally. One shot and this'll all be over. She focused once again on her victim. 

"See you in hell, Nobusuke."

SNAP!

Whew, okay. Also, school is a pain in the you-know-where.