The plan is complicated but thorough. I sit at the coffee shop window, sipping an espresso, waiting for the signal. There it is… a mohawk-sporting woman carrying a placard for gun control. Showtime.
I cross the street and join the crowd entering the subway. Descending the stairs, I avoid looking around; nothing is more suspicious than someone who appears to be looking for something. A doctor exiting the train bumps into me; a weight is added to my pocket. Feels like a 45.
Protection target acquired. Casual attitude adopted. Can I discriminate between innocent bystander and her potential assassin?
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