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He stands in line for his coffee, acutely aware of his target standing in line behind him. He has her face memorized, has the sound of her voice and cadence of her speech drilled into his brain, he has his weapons concealed on his person, and the Ghost is awake and in his veins.
But when he half-turns as they wait together, his mouth makes a friendly smile. What he wants to say it to run. To get her coffee and get into an Uber and drive as far away from here as she can. "You a regular, miss?" his voice asks, mild and amiable, no sign of stress or fear or dark intent.
It's too late, anyway. She's here, he's here, and the Ghost always gets what it's sent for.
But when he half-turns as they wait together, his mouth makes a friendly smile. What he wants to say it to run. To get her coffee and get into an Uber and drive as far away from here as she can. "You a regular, miss?" his voice asks, mild and amiable, no sign of stress or fear or dark intent.
It's too late, anyway. She's here, he's here, and the Ghost always gets what it's sent for.