Mercenary at heart - стр. 5

Things are quite different with mercenary salaries. They don't have a steady paycheck. They work from order to order. You work, you get paid. Some are self-employed, some work for organisations that provide this kind of service. And it's not necessarily related to crime. There are orders such as ‘serve, bring’. But on their fulfilment do not earn a lot. If you really want to get good money, then you need to take on the ‘black’ or ‘dirty orders’. They are 100% related to crime and illegal activities, as well as involve violence and cruelty. Such cases are carried out through intermediaries, which are just the mercenaries. For their fulfilment they are already paid very well, but it is extremely difficult to get such orders without the appropriate reputation. Since no one will want to deal with amateurs.

762. A dark-haired young man of twenty-four, dressed in a light jacket and jeans, stands on the edge of the roof of a fifteen-storey building. It offers a great view of the neighbouring outdoor football stadium nearby. The vaults and façade of the sports facility are brightly lit with lanterns. A major annual fight tournament is scheduled to take place, with some of Ounvilshen's top fighters scheduled to participate. On the artificial turf, in the middle of the field, a couple of metres above the ground, a ring has been erected for the future competition. Its flooring was square and dark blue in colour, and the ropes enclosing its perimeter were red. The stands were still half-empty, as the fans had only recently started to be launched. The guy was carefully watching what was happening in the stadium through his binoculars. With one hand he was occasionally tweaking a couple of wheels on it, responsible for adjusting the clarity and range of the image. On the roof, not far from him, was a large black bag with the necessary equipment for his mission.

Finally, the boy lowered the hand holding the binoculars and walked along the roof to the other end and looked down. He was no longer afraid of heights, as he had successfully overcome this phobia after a series of tests. Below was a small street with cars parked on the pavement and the edge of the metal roof over the entrance to the building. Pedestrians were darting along the pavement, going wherever they were going: home, from work, from school, to the shop, to the stadium, for a walk. The phone rang. The guy took it out of his jeans pocket and put it to his ear.

The voice in the receiver, ‘Michael, I'm here. How's it going in there? Are you ready?’