3 The Target

Jack was poring over the files with everything he had. The clients had really gone overboard this time. The amount of information they had provided bordered on the absurd. He had spent a couple hours already and he still felt that he'd barely scratched the surface.

While giving his eyes a break, Jack started to feel a little peckish. He opted to order a light Continental style breakfast consisting of a vegetable omelet, toast and some fruits from the hotel's menu. After ordering, he went back to his work. Half an hour later, he heard a knock. "Room service!", a man called from behind the door. Jack took his pistol from the arm of the sofa and set it down next to him, covering it with a small pillow. He closed any sensitive files he had open and opened a tab that was displaying his email. He presented the look of a business professional reading and answering emails from his room. He removed a ten-euro bill from his wallet, folded it and kept it in his left hand that was supporting his laptop.

"Come in!", Jack spoke while projecting his voice towards the door. This was another reason he hated working in hotels. He always had to be on guard from everything and everyone. When it came to fancy hotels, the amount of staff necessary to keep them clean and properly receive guests was massive. Service professionals like receptionists, bellhops and room service attendants especially were numerous and very easy to impersonate. With all the manpower that hotels of this caliber hires, a lot of the staff wouldn't know each other, making it simple to slip in and out undetected. None of the guests threw you a second glance and you just became another person in a uniform. In fact, Jack had used this same method on a couple of jobs that involved working inside hotels to great success. With that experience in mind, he always made them enter the room first. Once they entered, he kept an eye on them at all times and always kept a loaded weapon nearby.

He heard a thunk as the locks disengaged and the knob turned. The first thing to enter was a cart that held a couple of covered dishes. The cart was being pushed by a man who seemed to be of German descent. With light blonde hair, piercing blue eyes and a pale complexion he stood at about five feet ten inches and spoke English with a slight German accent. "Here is your order sir. One vegetable omelet, toast and a fresh fruit medley", he rattled off the order as he took off the covers one by one.

"Thank you very much", Jack spoke in a sincere yet somewhat cautious tone as he eyed the room service attendant. The way he moved, he didn't appear to be trained and his professionalism made him seem to be an experienced member of the hotel. No matter the signs, Jack still kept his guard up. He had seen enough experienced people in his world who could seemingly become completely different with a little practice and makeup. They would seem vulnerable and untrained at a superficial glance and they would use this to their advantage when facing others with similar training. While he couldn't emulate them at that level, he still had a basic understanding of how to cover up his training and take on a persona. Jack took the money he had prepared and handed it to the attendant, making sure to never let go of his pistol throughout the entire exchange.

The attendant accepted the note and thanked Jack. "Is there anything else that you require sir?"

"No, thank you". Nodding, the attendant promptly turned around and exited the room, closing the door behind him.

Jack patiently waited for a couple minutes, listening for any activity in the hallway outside his room. Hearing none, he removed the pillow on top of his pistol and transferred his pistol to his left side as he was using the provided utensils with his right. Jack had trained shooting with his non-dominant hand as part of his Army training and felt confident that he could engage hostiles with his left hand almost as well as his right. He focused purely on eating, making sure to finish quickly and not distract himself.

After finishing his breakfast, he went back to reviewing the files and started to compile the main points into a single dossier. It was a skill that he had developed slowly throughout the years and had proved handy when it came to the jobs he took. Sometimes, the clients expected him to do the necessary reconnaissance on the target and he would of course charge them an arm and a leg for the service. Most of the time, the clients provided the intel as they needed a job done in a certain fashion. The variety of methods that he was allowed was rather limited and when providing the intelligence, the clients felt it within their purview to tell him exactly how to do his job. Despite the annoying requirements placed on him, Jack never once complained. Since they were paying him, they had the right to request a job be done however they wanted it to be done. This job was one of the unique ones in the fact that the clients had given him complete control of planning and method of execution.

This laissez-faire approach taken by the clients was something that Jack really appreciated. While he never once complained about how controlling his clients were, inwardly, he never approved the loss of control. It was really refreshing being given the opportunity to formulate a solid and efficient plan that didn't entail satisfying some inane requirement that absolutely needed to be achieved. It was the first time in years that he had this opportunity and Jack was savoring the situation. At the same time, he was finding it a bit frustrating.

After years of being a yes-man, he finally had the option to do whatever he liked, but it was irking him. The intel provided was thorough and painstakingly compiled together, yet so much of it was useless to him. There were certain parts in multiple reports talking about what the target wears and his favorite color and other unnecessary bits of information.

The compilation of the main points took a few hours and the clock had struck five before he knew it. It was already evening and he had skipped lunch in an effort to finish going over the intel. He had narrowed almost 200 intelligence reports down to a mere 10 pages of information that read much like a biography.

His target's name was Abdul al Qatani. A world-renowned asshole with a penchant for trafficking in illegal goods. He had his fingers in every pie from drugs to guns and human trafficking. He was one of the central hubs of the Middle Eastern black-market with nearly 20% of all illegal goods going through his numerous import/export businesses across the world. According to his biography, he had risen to power along with Saddam Hussein, helping him move personnel and materiel across borders to engage in the constant wars that Saddam waged against other nations.

As Saddam took on more hard-line stances against his people and their freedoms, Abdul was starting to get nervous. He knew that the American CIA definitely had information on him as he had never tried to stay anonymous. With the numerous atrocities that Saddam started committing against the people, al Qatani saw the writing on the wall and chose to run. A wise decision as it turned out.

After the United States went in and cleaned house, the fledgling government that was put into power was starting to grow and desperately needed help. It was at that time that Abdul al Qatani so graciously crawled out of the woodwork to offer his services. Delighted, the government made many deals with him, usually asking for items such as food, water, generators, construction equipment and arms. In no time at all, al Qatani became the go-to guy for the Iraqi government, allowing him to succeed and expand even further than before. After being stabilized, the government started to ask less and less, depending on their own infrastructure instead of making use of Abdul's.

As business slowly dried up, Abdul was desperate to find new sources of income. It was at this time that he found out the high profitability of the drug trade. He started with small quantities and made sure to be extremely cautious with his dealings. Due to his latent fears of the CIA coming for him, he started to take his anonymity more seriously when it came to his dealings. He started to appear less in public, choosing to use middlemen to keep himself as clean as possible. He used the profits from his drug trafficking to expand into weapons, providing arms to war torn nations and dictatorial regimes. From guns, he expanded to sex trafficking and prostitution. He lured many beautiful women from all around the world with fake modeling gigs and flew them out to exotic destinations. There, he drugged and kidnapped them, often selling them for hundreds of thousands on online auctions to his exclusive clients around the world.

Interestingly, Jack found that after many years of keeping to himself, Abdul al Qatani was actually going to be showing up to personally ink a partnership with a former business competitor, Harold Cleft. While Cleft wasn't nearly as dirty as al Qatani, the Brit definitely had some deep connections in the black market and was known to be an acquisitions specialist. Word on the street was that there was nothing that Cleft couldn't find, for the right price of course. Jack had read up a bit about him and was disappointed that the client hadn't asked him to liquidate Cleft alongside al Qatani. It wasn't every day that these scumbags got together and it was a lovely opportunity to solve two problems with one bullet. Staring at a picture of Cleft, Jack sighed and told himself one day he would put Cleft down, however, today was not the day.

According to the report, al Qatani and Cleft were meeting at Tiergarten, a public park in Germany. At nearly 210 hectares in size, Tiergarten is one of the perfect places for such a meeting to occur. With plenty of civilians to provide cover and heavily wooded areas, it was a very difficult to find a proper sniper perch.

Let's go for a walk Jack decided as he got up. He would do some basic recon on possible rendezvous points and grab dinner outside. Moving over to his case, he removed a plain black Polo t-shirt and a pair of dark selvedge jeans. After switching his outfit, he unscrewed the suppressor on his pistol and placed it back into the foam cutout. Grabbing an extra magazine, he took out an appendix holster and tucked it beneath his clothing, clipped it firmly onto his belt.

Closing his case and storing it under the bed, he inserted the pistol and extra mag into the holster. Donning a light jacket, he confirmed that he had his passport and wallet on him. On his way out the suite, he grabbed a toothpick from the coffee table and exited into the hallway. As he closed the door, he inserted the toothpick into the gap between the hinges and broke it off. Making his way downstairs, he left the hotel, stepping into a slightly chilly but pleasant Berlin weather. Dinner? Or recon first? Jack questioned as he made his way down the block.