The echo of the sniper shot still lingered in the air, mixing with the distant city sirens.
Ochieng remained crouched behind the overturned couch, his heart steady.
He wasn't afraid.
If anything… he was thrilled.
Whoever sent this assassin had underestimated him.
Big mistake.
He glanced at the lifeless body slumped against the wall, blood pooling beneath it.
The sniper had been precise. A single kill shot.
Ochieng had dodged just in time, but the assassin?
Expendable.
"Cleaning up their own mess…" he muttered.
He grabbed his phone, dialing a number he hadn't called in a long time.
It rang twice before a lazy voice answered.
"Ochieng… I was wondering when you'd call."
"Get me the sniper's location. Now."
The voice on the other end chuckled.
"You're really getting back into this, huh?"
Ochieng's eyes darkened.
"I never left."
---
Within minutes, Ochieng was on the move.
His contact had traced the sniper's location to an abandoned construction site on the west side of the city.
By the time Ochieng arrived, the scent of gunpowder still lingered in the air.
But the sniper?
Gone.
Ochieng crouched low, scanning the area.
A single shell casing lay on the rooftop edge.
.338 Lapua Magnum.
High precision. Military-grade.
This wasn't the work of some low-level hitman.
This was professional. Personal.
Ochieng smirked.
"So, you wanted to test me too, huh?"
Then he noticed it—
A faint red dot on his chest.
Another sniper. Watching. Waiting.
Ochieng barely had time to react before—
BANG!
---
He rolled to the side, the bullet missing him by inches.
Glass shattered behind him as the shot hit a nearby crane.
Ochieng didn't hesitate.
He grabbed a metal rod from the ground and hurled it toward the direction of the shot.
It wasn't meant to hit—just distract.
And it worked.
A slight movement. A flicker in the shadows.
Ochieng sprinted forward.
The sniper fired again—but he was already gone.
By the time the shooter adjusted their aim, Ochieng was behind them.
Silent. Deadly.
A quick strike to the back of the head.
The sniper collapsed, gun clattering to the ground.
Ochieng grabbed the man by the collar, flipping him over.
A woman.
Sharp eyes. Raven-black hair. A scar running across her cheek.
She smirked, even as she bled.
"You're fast," she admitted.
"And you're sloppy," Ochieng countered. "Who sent you?"
She chuckled, coughing up blood.
"You think it matters?"
Ochieng's grip tightened.
"It always matters."
She leaned in, voice barely a whisper.
"They're already coming for you."
Then, with a final breath, she bit down—
A hidden cyanide pill.
Ochieng cursed, watching as the life drained from her eyes.
Another loose end tied up.
Whoever was pulling the strings…
They weren't just ruthless.
They were careful.
---
Ochieng stood on the rooftop, watching the city below.
This was bigger than he thought.
Whoever was after him had resources.
Assassins. Snipers. An entire network.
And they weren't just trying to kill him.
They were testing him.
He exhaled slowly, gripping the sniper's rifle.
"Fine," he murmured. "Let's play."
His eyes locked onto a distant skyscraper—one of the underworld's strongholds.
If they wanted a war…
He'd bring it to their doorstep.
---