A Rogue Assassin: Rogue Assassin, #1

By Justin Ferlow

Agent Spectre operates on an active contract set forth by the secretive organization, The Agency. Things start to backfire when he takes the shot ending the targets life...

• Language: English
• Publisher: Insane Insanity
• Release date: Apr 2, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215011812

Justin Ferlow

Howdy! I have been interested in writing stories to share with the world since I was in highschool. Granted- I did write a few in school, but they were absolutely terrible. Now as an older fella, I've decided to go ahead with writing a book I love and cherish. Have a wonderful day, and stay awesome! 

Book preview

Credits:

Writer: Justin Ferlow

Cover Art: Micheal D.

Editor: Allyssa M.

Prologue:

The rain fell on a rather busy night. A very polluted and acidic rain. It falls almost every night, as though the entire planet itself was crying after a long day of stress. The year is 2052, a year of celebration, the celebration of peace that has lasted for over 13 years. But what the hundreds of people crowded in front of the stage don't understand is that the Agency is why the peace has lasted for so long. The Agency is a group hidden from the populace, also known under a different name, ‘The Peace Bown’. Their belief is, You can’t have a war if anyone who wants to start one were to suddenly disappear. This is where the agents, me, come into play.

I was set up on a balcony, waiting for hours. Sixteen, I believe, by now. I tend to not pay attention to the time when on a contract. They gave me an old apartment building, abandoned for a long time, and bought it for construction purposes. They gave me the key, told me which floors and rooms had the best views, and I went just to see which one I felt most comfortable in.

I found one of the rooms with the best view of all the choices. Room 304W. You could tell that the people who used to live here were, shall we say, rather tasteful? Silk red curtains waved in front of all the windows. A bed, king-sized, still remained made up as if they left one day and just never came back. The floors though currently dusty, you could tell were kept spotless. The walls were lined with old bookshelves, books still in place. One was missing, which I could see on the nightstand next to the bed. A rather interesting room, I had thought to myself; I might’ve moved my wife there if it weren’t abandoned... Focus.

Chapter 1

The Sudden Headache

William Downdree

Mcgregger decided he needed to concentrate on the contract instead of admiring the room he was in. After all, his job entailed ruining things of value, not admiring them. So he knelt on the ground, sat down his briefcase, laid it on its back, and opened it. The briefcase, though old, opened smoothly thanks to the maintenance he had made sure to keep up with. Resting inside the briefcase was what would seem to be a random assortment of metal parts. But what it really was would be Mcgregger’s O.C.D at work. Every part was a piece of his beloved Rifle; from the stock to the trigger and pins, which he would repeatedly use to disassemble his rifle when bored. Every piece was shining from his hours of cleaning and oiling. He truly admired his weapon, as it was nothing without him, and he was nothing without it. He started the process he loved most of all in any contract; the assembly of his rifle. He slid the chamber into the grip, locking it into place. Everything about this process would annoy most people into just keeping the weapon assembled. But not Mcgregger. Every click, every lock, every double check on the placement of parts was an art to him. When he finished putting his paint and brush together, it would be time for him to make streaks of crimson on the isle. Or, that is how he imagined it.

Now, with his rifle assembled and cleaned one last time, he calmly walked to the balcony door and opened it. He would take a moment as the dust in the old abandoned room would be disturbed by the sudden entrance of fresh air. He then stepped outside and looked down over the celebration. Almost regretting that he will be ruining this celebration, he kneels with one leg and folds his other, then pulls it close to his chest to make a platform for the rifle to rest on when aiming. And now, Mcgregger waits patiently for his target to peer his head out for the scope to see.

Alright, Mcgregger quietly mutters to himself as he adjusts the scope on his long-range Magnetic rifle to find his target. Gah, this thing is nice, but I would love it more if the lens would stop fogging up for once.

Mcgregger scans through the crowd with his clouded scope, moving the crosshair from person to person. As he grows increasingly frustrated for not finding his target, he suddenly sees him, but just barely. The target, William Downdree, was hosting the celebration this year. What would seem to be a humble take on his feelings for peace, it turns out that he was actually caught by the Agency sending mixed messages between two nations. Essentially he was trying to start a full-scale, fourth world war. He had to be eliminated immediately. This is why Mcgregger was there in the first place. He was hired to eliminate this target, mostly because of his expertise in long range assassinations. He very rarely missed.

Heh, Mcgregger chuckles menacingly to himself, almost as if someone were there to watch his performance. I see you, William. Oh, if only you knew you were about as good as dead.

Mcgregger loaded his rifle with his favorite rounds, 7.62mm Caliber Bullets dipped in Lightweight magnetic steel. Since the rounds were dipped in a magnetic metal composite, it allowed each bullet to polarize itself out of the chamber once the trigger was pulled, making it expel from the chamber twice as fast, for twice the range of that round's typical drop-off distance. Meaning that his rifle hit targets faster and at longer ranges with a lot more force. The only downside Mcgregger could find with his get-up would be the cost. Each bullet was roughly 38 credits, with a box being just under 3200 Credits. He regularly finds himself wishing he would be satisfied with the normal rounds, but it just wouldn’t be the same as he usually concludes.

Now that it’s loaded, time to get ready, William Mcgregger exhales with a slight sign of excitement in his voice, followed by a one-sided grin, Gotcha, three, two, one....

Mcgregger pulled the