Unused to having someone there to point out every possibility, Merci looks at her watch and makes a rash decision. Or what would appear to be one, on the outside.

"We're taking him out when he gets home, then getting the fuck out of here," she says, collecting her things in preparation and scrambling through the house, making it look as close to untouched as possible. 

"We've got 45 minutes. I don't blame you if you want to back out. But I need to know now, so I can prep the shot for my own vision," she says, looking at Kathryn for direction. She wants her to do this, for her own sake. Having your hand forced during a job, and still completing the job and getting away...there was nothing like that heady rush and she needed Kathryn to feel it, understand it. 

As Merci scrambles through the house, Kathryn quietly slips back into her previous, practical jeans and tank top. She was breathing deeply, thinking.

"No, I'm in. Here's what I'm thinking. Cops would have hit us by now. If they knew who you were, why even let us get to this point? I think it's got to be private security: went around to the neighbors, told everyone to keep their heads down for some bullshit reason. I see two options:

1) Your client is trying to set you up. Do you trust whoever hired you? That they wouldn't try to cross you off as a loose end?

2) The target hired a guy, or a team, who are really good at what they do- and they've either made us or are just generally suspicious.

She shrugged.

"But you know more than me. If they're just suspicious, they don't know anything for sure. If you got set up- well, you're not supposed to take the shot until tomorrow morning, so they wouldn't expect anything this afternoon... and your target needs to be back to keep you from bolting."

"Anyways, that's all your business. I'll take the shot. Just watch my back in case someone's expecting us?"

"I'm a fresh contact, not a recurring asset," she says, thinking it through as she speaks. "I'll wager private security, because the Feds would have had him safehoused. And as you say, even if I'm off on this...they're expecting a 7:15 hit. 

"You can do this.," she says, looking at Kathryn directly, and firmly, in the eye. "I'm sure you've surmised as much, but your man Jack...I had to promise him. I can't put you in any situation where the odds are shit. This is doable. You are perfectly capable," she adds, stepping closer and placing a hand on her arm. Show me what's inside you. I know it's there...

Kathryn exhaled.

"Okay. So it's the same job, just with some private security interference. I take the shot on the target- and anyone else I see holding a gun- then we move."

For weeks, Merci had never seen Kathryn lose her cool... and she still hadn't lost it: there was a calmness there, but there was pressure too. Not panic, but extreme focus. For the first time in hours, Kathryn moved without thinking how she'd look to Merci as she took up her position on the bed, slowly raising the window enough for the barrel to have a clean field of fire. She lay on her stomach, out of sight, legs tucked behind her, with the rifle ready to go if she heard a car engine. 

Merci watches as Kathryn tries to push her hair out of the way before settling into position. 

"Stop, let me do it," she says, and in a totally unprofessional and thoughtless move, she straddles Kathryn's ass and works her fingers through her silken hair. Fashioning it into a self-made knot, she climbs off and readies her secondary firearm.

"Focus on your target. Secondary was never part of the deal, I'll take care of that," she murmurs, patting Kathryn's leg. 

Several minutes later, the target arrives. Both women crouch a bit lower instinctively as their breathing patterns change. The target leaves his vehicle, and on his walk to the front door, Merci watches as Kathryn makes a minute adjustment, inhales, exhales, and squeezes the trigger. It's a clean head shot, the mark drops like a sack of very dead potatoes, but there's no time for celebration. His security detail exits the house, looking everywhere. The poor fool never sees a thing as both Merci and Kathryn aim and shoot...Kathryn makes another perfect head shot, Merci hits him in the heart.

"GOOD! GO!!" Merci calls out as she pulls her earplugs and vaults upward, breaking the rifle down just enough to fit it in the go bag. Kathryn hauls her own over her shoulder and they're down the stairs and out the side door within a minute's time. Fast-walking through the backyard and that of the adjoining neighbor's, they're at the car in 90 seconds.

Merci is grinning like a fool as she settles in behind the wheel. 

Kathryn, for the first time since the night of the funeral, had let her guard down. The shield of cold rational thought was nonexistent, although no one could see it. Thank God she was facing away from Merci.

Yes, she admitted that a small, quiet part of her was horrified about what she was doing.

But mostly, her blood was boiling in her veins and she felt... electric. She was holding a rifle. Merci was on top of her, stroking her hair. This was power. This was... lust. It was a horrible thing to admit, moments from taking a man's life. But she felt alive, forceful, and... aroused. The heavy breathing would hopefully be construed as nerves by Merci... and there was the car.

Immediately, everything turned cold again. There was just the rifle and the target, like she'd done a thousand times before. The rifle and then the target. The man... and then not a man. He was gone. Then the security guard was gone too.

The next few moments were always tenuous in her mind- her next real memory was bring next to Merci as they barrelled down the freeway- the wind from her lowered window blasting a smile on Kathryn's face. She could feel Merci's eyes on her as well. Concern? Pride?

Due to the change in time, heading back toward the city to catch a plane meant they'd get stuck in traffic. Instead, Merci had just sped out and now they were headed south and west. Perhaps they'd catch a plane from Chicago back to Vegas. For once, Kathryn stopped planning. Merci was flying on the highway, but she didn't even blink as Kathryn leaned over and murmured into her ear, over the road of the engine and the wind. Feeling a little reckless, Kathryn even let her lip accidentally trail along Merci's earlobe for a halting second.

"That was amazing. Thank you."

With that, Kathryn reclined back in her seat, content to simply listen to the car and the wind. Merci just smiled.