*"So, you can't do it?"

...

Falcon's finger hestitated as it rests on the trigger. One jerk, and someone, is going to die.

Usually, Falcon, a trained assassin, or eraser, as he prefers to be called, would pull the trigger without hestitation, walk off, and take a plane to Dubai to enjoy the sunrise.

But, not this time.

"So, you can't do it?", his evil twin inside him mocked him.

"Thirty hits in a span of five years. Each flawlessly done, each untracable."

"And you are going sedimental on me now, Falcon?"

Falcon peered through his Accuracy International L115A1's scope, or Super Magnum, as they are otherwise known as. Accurate up to a thousand meters, and more, depending on the skill of the sniper, this is Falcon's prefered weapon. While Falcon found it's 5 box ammunitation limit annoying, but in this job, it's one shot, one kill. One shot, no kill will usually mean a failure. Hence, accuracy at a long distance is everything.

In his crosshairs, smoking a Cigarette, talking to some dude dressed in green overalls, is his target.

The commander of the camp.

The one in charge of starting this war.

His younger sister.

Maya.

With both of his parents disappearing when they were young, they were brought up by their grandmother. Of course, that grandmother thinks that it's still the 50s, where everyone lives on their own or dies, and she got her own troubles to think off.

Hence, basically, Falcon and his sister, grew up together, relying on each other to get over their hardship. You lend me a hand, and I'll lend you a foot.

However, Maya, being the brighter of the two, obtained a scholarship and disappeared to a foreign country to pursue her interests. Since then, their communications have became sparse, as they moved on with their own lives, as they had been trained to do so right from the beginning. The last Falcon heard, was that Maya was starting a business in one of the third world countries.

And now, she's the commander of a bunch of rebels which have started this civil war, and, is threatening to crush the finicial and safety interests of the country Falcon is working for.

Damn.

"What? Not good? Dude, this is a job. Get this in your head, a job."

STFU.

Once again, Falcon peered into the scope, his sights deadset on Maya's head.

The wind is just right. There's a clear line of fire for him to turn Maya's head into must.

His finger itches.

Yet.

Yet....

He knows, he can't do it.

All the times he had with his little sister. Him protecting her, and her, getting him out of trouble time and time and time again.

But, what she's doing is wrong. It's his duty, as a brother, to tell her to do what's right.

Leading an army to a revolt isn't right.

And so....

Falcon took a deep breath to steady his senses. He shifted his arms to ensure that he's resting on bone, and not on a vessel.

All ready.

He could almost hear his evil twin roar in victory, as Falcon depressed the trigger ever so slightly.

Click.

He forgot to work the bolt action.

Whoops.

But that sound, jolted him back into his senses, as if the heavens themselves were screaming at him.

Just what the **** was he doing? That's his little sister, for god's sake. You don't kill the girl you protect and shield for as your duty as a brother.

You give her love, and when it's wrong, tell her it's wrong.

You don't kill your little sister.

"**** this, they can take care of their own mess." Falcon muttered, as his evil twin screamed obscenities at him for being a coward and the like.

But Falcon isn't listening.

Because, for all the screaming his evil twin can do...

He is, but an alter ego.*

---

Boredom strikes. Again. >_> <_<