I wanted a cigarette. Seems like a simple thing but as I lay in the wet grass waiting, it wasn't dry clothes or a warm cup of coffee that kept nagging at me. It was that damn cigarette. For the billionth time I told myself it would be over soon and I could have all the cigarettes I wanted. The alarm vibrated on my phone, in my breast pocket, and I flipped up the lens caps on my scope. The mark was right on time. He bobbed into my scope almost as if he knew what was coming. He wore a bright orange jogging suit and pink running shoes, probably to raise breast cancer awareness or something. I took a deep breath and let it out slowly, lined up the cross hairs with the mark's head and gently squeezed the trigger. I was rewarded with a burst of red gore before I flipped the lens caps down and started to dismantle the rifle. The parts fit nicely in my coat pockets, the long barrel going inside a slit in the lining. It wouldn't look odd unless I had to bend over. I crawled back down the small hill and took my time standing up. My legs tingled, letting me know they protested such an action. I walked the two blocks to my car without incident. The rifle hid easily in the little compartments I had placed in the thing for just this purpose. The car turned on and glided near silently away on it's little electric motor. It was only a half hour drive to the warehouse across town, one of many I own throughout this section of town. I parked the tiny car inside and pressed the fancy button that closed the huge warehouse doors. I took the rifle back out of it's hiding spot and carried it deeper into the building. Against the far wall was a simple metal shop. A fire was already blazing in the small foundry I had set up there. A young man was bent over the fire, adjusting it now and then. I coughed to get his attention.
"Welcome back sir. The fire's ready, sir." The young man looked up with excitement in his eyes. He was around eighteen years of age. He wore only a pair of brown leather pants, heavily stained, and heavy leather boots. His chest and arms rippled with muscle. His head was shaved perfectly bald but I knew he had once worn his hair long, blonde, and curly. His eyes shone a light green in the reflected firelight. He would have been handsome if he wasn't covered from head to toe in soot and dirt.
"Thank you Justin." I reached into my pocket and pulled out a small roll of cash, which I tossed to him. "Large coffee and a carton of ciggs." He sprang up instantly and turned for the door.
"What brand?" He called back.
"Whatever. Just make sure it has filters. And put a fucking shirt on so they don't throw you out." I heard his sigh even over the roar of the foundry. When I heard the door shut I started feeding the rifle into the crucible. I added the stock to the fire and watched it burn quickly. The rest of the rifle took a long time to melt but it was liquid when I heard the door open. Justin walked over and handed me the large cup of coffee and a carton of some off brand filter cigarettes. I walked over and sat the coffee down on the workbench. I tore the carton open and ripped at a pack till I finally got a cigg out and lit. The thing tasted horrible. I let the smoke linger in my lungs and took my time letting it out. I reached for the coffee but Justin stopped me by dumping a double handful of sugar packets on the workbench. I nodded and started tearing open packs and adding it to the black drink. Justin took a drink out of a huge insulated cup. He then pulled his t-shirt off in disgust and tossed it on the workbench.
"You know. You are going to have to take a shower sometime. I'm pretty sure I can smell you from outside." I took a drink of the coffee. It was still too bitter so I opened another five packs of sugar and dumped into it.
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