Waiting was the hardest part of the job.
He sat across the street from the restaurant in a nondescript grey sedan. He had been there for a while now, and he was beginning to feel it in his lower back.
Reaching into the car’s center console, he grabbed a cigarette and lighted it before taking a sip of his now lukewarm coffee. He wasn’t the most clever or experienced — he knew that — but he had patience, and in this career, patience was everything.
Another hour passed, and there was no sign of his mark. They must be on to dessert by now, he thought. As he took another drag of his cigarette, he let his mind wander. Was this the life his mother had envisioned for him when she sent him off to the military academy? Would she be proud? She always encouraged him to pursue a career with some prestige, like a lawyer, or a soldier, or a politician…
Suddenly, he noticed the valet boys starting to stir. One ran around back and quickly pulled a silver Lexus around to the front of the restaurant.
Finally, he whispered to himself. With his head lowered, he crept out onto the sidewalk and hurried across the street towards a narrow alley that ran perpendicular to the front wall of the restaurant. He got into position and waited.
The mayor emerged from the restaurant, walking side-by-side with his mistress. As they reached the car, he sprung out from around the corner and began to shoot. The woman screamed. The mayor tried to cover her but to no success.
“Damn paparazzi!” he yelled. “You’re scum! Why don’t you get a job with some integrity?”
But by that time the photographer was out of ear shot, already a few hundred yards away.