"Don't leave witnesses ..."

My name is Georgie Gill, and I've been a software engineer in the Seattle area for 30 years - plus or minus. Of course, I've never programmed a computer, other than a few lines of code here and there. I've never deployed software or fixed bugs. My privately owned software consulting company, "Sea-Gill, LLC", has been in business since the late 1980's - it's a cover, a sham, a pretense, and it allows me to easily (and I mean EASILY) launder money, my money, cash, that I earn, for killing people ... cuz ... you know ... I'm a hit man.

Sea-Gill specializes in IT security software for large firms and organizations. It's perfect! Nobody, especially in Seattle, suspects the rates these days - the consulting firms charge $100-$400 per hour, easy ... My typical (average) job would invoice in the range of 200-300 hours (made up labor) and bring in about $100K. You don't need to do more than one job like this, every few months, to earn some real money - best part is, I still conduct fake meetings, I have some slides prepared by a friend of mine, that I talk through. There are still "artifacts" of the work - but nothing too difficult to reproduce. Simply put - to the outside world, it all looks legit. In reality, I am being paid a lot of money to murder people.

Which brings me to my latest job - a simple "take out."

A CEO of a major biotech firm was going on the record with the FDA regarding a new drug - a viral treatment that was causing severe brain damage. I'm one of those "I need a summary as to why" hit men - of course, the client can lie ... and ... I've taken those jobs as well, jobs where the client gives me one summary reason for the "contract" and there were actually other motives for the hit. But this guy seemed like a jerk, talk'y, on local stations already and preparing to testify at a House of Representatives select committee ... and this wouldn't do ... not at all.

This CEO, Jim Easton, he's a jogger, a runner ... runs every morning near his home in Queen Anne (a neighborhood of Seattle). Jim would wake up, every day he was in town, and run 3 miles - rain or shine. His path took him near a small grove of trees, part of a church's plot, overgrown with high grass. This is where I hid, with an air pistol firing dissolving salt pellets, each one containing enough poison to cause a heart attack in 4 average sized adults. The killing distance was 10 meters, I intended to hit him in the leg, as he passed.

My location had good concealment, and alright cover - I was able to set up my sniper position behind two boulders, surrounded by 5 fir trees and some very tall grass. I staked out the location 2 nights - each time observing Jim running by. I wanted to make sure, as sure as I could, that nobody else would observe me. It was ok if they saw Jim having a heart attack - but no one could see me ... very explicit instructions from the client - "don't leave witnesses ..."

So no witnesses - none.

The morning of the hit I was in position by 5:00 AM, Jim would be running by me at 5:20 AM (approximately). Everything was perfect - no dogs barking, very quiet.

Jim passed my location ... I gently squeezed the trigger of my air rifle, hitting Jim on the back of his left thigh. He grabbed for it, probably thinking the "sting" was from some insect. Nope. He had been stung by a poison developed by the KGB for inducing heart attacks - Jim grabbed his chest, and I moved out of my location, quietly, stealthily ... or so I thought ...

An old lady ...

Must have been in her 80's or some such shit ...

She saw me, she was 20 feet away and had just stepped outside her duplex to smoke a joint ...

It was bad luck, and she was itchy paranoid from the weed ...

"Hey ... hey you ... you stay away from me!", she uttered.

I rushed her, pulled her back around the corner and slit her throat.

It was done, all done ... the killing for today ... then ... shit ...

"BUDDY! WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING!", a thirty-something millennial yelled from his UBER as he had stopped to pick someone up. I pulled my GLOCK-19, with silencer, and shot the UBER driver in the head ... he was gone.

"Mr ... Mr. Man ... why did you just shoot that guy ...", a young child, on her roller blades, had swooped in from who the fuck knows where or why her parents left her to play in the street before 6 AM ... fuck ...

I moved in on the little girl ... crap ... I had to ... I had to break her neck ... I took her around the back of another house, and broke that sweet girl's neck ... Jesus ...

"Hey, are you here to fix my cable internet?"

"Yeah, we could really use it back ... badly ..."

The gay couple, two forty-something men ... well dressed ... probably in good physical shape as well.

I took out the "twink" with a Shuriken throwing star, cut his throat. The other gay dude, the "power bottom", I had to strangle that guy ... very personal kill ... damn ...

"Ruff ... Ruff ruff ruff ...", they had an Akita dog ... that dog saw me too ... I tossed a grenade at that dog.

This went on, like this, for a few hours ...

Hundreds dead ...

Up and down the back streets of Queen Anne, Seattle.

(all because my client didn't want any witnesses)