15 for 15 Contest --- Closed

The last time Endgame cried was when he became Endgame. His tears fell for his mentor as he lay dying from his protégé’s bullet. The man’s final words never left him, no matter the mission.

“An assassin can’t afford tears. Blurry shots are misses. Missing means failure. You only get one chance to fail in this line of work.” The man chuckled. “My failure is my greatest success.”

That was ten years ago—a lifetime. Today he was returning home from a success in Bolivia. A drug lord’s wife wanted control of the business. She was a most distasteful woman. She had double-crossed him. He managed to escape the authorities and her husband’s private army—her soldiers, now. He didn’t expect her to last. An informative call to her husband’s business partners would see to that. They would assure his payment.

After checking the grounds, he went into the house.

Luger didn’t run to meet him. The Mastiff’s giant paws didn’t knock him back. The communications from his neighbor were true. Luger was dying.

He found his friend lying next to the back door, unmoving. His sad eyes looked up at Endgame in a silent plea. Endgame knelt down and hugged the dog.

“My old friend, thank you for hanging on. I couldn’t bear you dying alone in some vet’s office. Forgive me for making you wait.”
The dog’s head dropped to Endgame’s lap and he let out a small whimper of pain. Cancer, Bertha told him. Not the warrior’s death Endgame wanted for his twelve year old companion.

Sliding his arms beneath the dog, Endgame stood up. He held the dog’s body close to his own; it was cold.

“Let’s go boy.”

He maneuvered the door open and walked out into the cool night air. His throat burned as he fought back the growing lump. An assassin can’t afford tears.

Endgame made it to the back of his yard and the thick line of trees. He found a stone marker and placed Luger next to it. He looked at the flat rock that was slowly disappearing under the growth of grass. Lines scarred it, carved by the assassin's own hand—Genesis, his mentor.

He un-holstered the automatic weapon from beneath his coat and aimed it at Luger.

“I will miss you old friend.”

His vision blurred.