He was a wise one, a quick one, with a gun so powerful and a hand so fast a person could be dead within a millisecond. It all started at the park one day, I was sitting on a bench, a stolen laptop on my lap, glasses in place, searching the web for news as a cover up for my real purpose. My target was just a few feet away playing chess, white male, 6'1, 135 pounds. His name was Watson, William Watson. His target was the man who sat just across from Watson, Brett Jefferson. I played it cool seeing the amount of security safely guarding the two. My friend on the other hand, took the direct approach. He was always doing that, he always succeeded though, and he never got caught. That was why he was the best, he was the reason why I was number two. Luckily that didn't bother me, I wasn't a greedy man trying to make sure I was number one. That was the reason why he had never thought to kill me. Ha, lucky me. Anyway, back to the two targets. I new exactly what my friend was going to do. The scene was already playing out in my head. He was going to casually walk over, pull out his gun, take out his target then go for the guards. After that he would look at me, by then I would be by his side with my gun pointed at my target, who would lay dead on the ground. We would glance at each other then go our separate ways. There would be no witnesses, no one that would report the crime or call the police. Thats how it was going to go down. All I had to do now was wait.