It was late, later than he'd anticipated. And he was beginning to feel anxious.
To his dismay, the vehicle he'd been waiting for still hadn't shown. Mishka was contemplating leaving at this point but something nagged at him to stay. The man shuffled where he stood and stuck his hands into his pockets as he impatiently looked around once more. From where he currently stood, strategically located, he lay hidden in the shadows of the city park's trees yet was still able to clearly see down both ends of the street. It was all entirely intentional and something he'd been planning for weeks now. Where the hell is he? he thought irritably. Mishka's target of the evening was Officer Mark Bates, a twelve-year veteran in the city's police force. Spotless record, typical family guy. But a job was a job and it wasn't often the man asked questions when presented with tasks like this. So long as the price was right and the reason was valid, he had no issue taking a life. Mishka had served in the army once; it was expected of every soldier to pull the trigger when an opportunity presented itself so he wasn't new to the whole 'murderer' thing. But it was the cop-killer title he was worried about. In the right places it gave a powerful reputation but if a word of his criminal activities ever so much as uttered a peep to the wrong person, he's be dead before the news could properly cover his story. Everybody knew cops killed cop-killers but no one wanted to admit it. They'd label it a suicide, give him his week of fame, and then the whole world would forget Mishka ever existed.
Mishka perked up when the familiar black-and-white car pulled up to the corner across the street from him. Its siren lights were off but not the search light on the hood of the automobile. Bates was on patrol, and he was alone. Perfect.
According to his sources, the officer came around this way every other Tuesday to this particular drug store. Some rumors claimed he was restocking on his blood pressure meds while others stated that he was friends with one of the pharmacists. Mishka didn't know and frankly he didn't care. Time to move. "Hey!" The officer -who'd just turned off his automobile- snapped his head in Mishka's direction as the male jogged over, his erratic breathing giving the impression that he'd been running or frightened. "Sir please step back from the vehicle. Can I help you?" the older man asked him. Of course he was being cautious. Mishka backpedaled a respectable couple of paces and put up a finger gesture in a wordless request asking the officer to wait as he composed himself. Bates put an arm on the windowsill as he leaned out. "I think I just witnessed a murder." Bates looked genuinely concerned now. "Can you show me where you saw this happen?" He was starting the engine again, preparing to follow Mishka's directions. Mishka looked up and straightened out, breathing suddenly normal again. "Yeah. Here."
It took less than five seconds. Mishka leaned in through the open window and grabbed the officer before huffing out a lungful of flames. Everything was on fire.
There was an awful shriek as the human flailed in panic and pain. Mishka backed up and watched as the blaze engulfed it all. The man soon stopped screaming and Mishka knew then his job was done, he had no need to stick around any longer. It was dark but that didn't mean the neighborhood was sleeping. He was willing to bet that at least someone heard the racket they'd made. Sure enough, people were starting to pour out of nearby buildings. There was a noise and Mishka shielded himself just before the burning metal abruptly blew up. He pulled up his balaclava.