"Another day, another dollar"... or so the saying went. It was more like "Another day, another body" for me. My superiors had finally deployed me out on something more than a simple assassination mission. It was my turn, now, to eliminated a full room, at the top of a building, of enemy leaders. They had said that this mission would mean the difference between winning and losing, between 'Mutually Assured Destruction' and 'I win, you die'. Bullshit, in my opinion. But it was my job to do this, and the military would pay me a fortune if I could pull this off. It would be enough to last me for the rest of my life, and even then some...

I refocused on the task at hand. I was so close. I had entered the country nearly a month ago, and had nearly 'gone native'. I could speak eloquent Russian, and had a job as a teacher here. I was what we call a 'deep-cover' agent, I almost literally became the person I was playing. There were no records of me in my own government's system, except for a single flash-drive located in a place that didn't technically exist. In the Russian database, however, I had a social security number, a birth certificate, a full history, 'known relatives' and everything that a real citizen would have. The only thing different about me was that I wasn't a real citizen.

My teaching job was partially a front and partially not. I actually made money from the job and used that money to pay for necessities. But now, I was in a semi-secret basement, the kind that nobody talks about but everyone has, that the government dislikes but allows. Everybody got one after the war started...

I was a day away from the beginning of the end of my career. I could finally go home...

I drew my hand across the holographic map in front of me. The three-dimensional image grew and twisted, zooming in on the room where the Russian VIP's would be gathering. They would be just two floors from the top of the building and heavily guarded. There was no way I was going to be able to infiltrate the place, even with my active-camouflage. The nearby buildings would also be filled with Russian agents, Secret Service, KGB, and most definitely snipers. I wouldn't be able to do that either.

I was running out of options. I couldn't use artillery of any sort; I didn't have any. Maybe a long-range sniper shot? I'd be able to do it... hopefully... I'll keep that just in case. Perhaps I could blow up the entire building? No, there would be no confirmed kills. What could I possibly do...?

It seemed like long range sniping was going to be it. But that wasn't necessarily a bad thing; I am probably the most accomplished sniper in the world...

---

I was laying on my back on the ledge on the roof of a building, nearly a mile and a half away from the target. My rifle lay beside me, loaded with a special set of rounds. I had ten shots in my clip, and they were made accordingly. Every single one was hand-filled by me. The first was a part armor-piercing, part shatter burst round that would utterly destroy the window it passed through. The next seven were armor-piercing, sharp rounds made completely of iron covered with depleted uranium. The amount of iron in the bullet would ensure the magnets in the rifle pushed it the most it possible could. The last two rounds were a pair of rounds I developed. They were explosive. Highly so. The pair of bullets at the bottom of my clip could tear a hole in the side of the building I was about to shoot into. A little more collateral that I'd have preferred, but there wasn't much I could do about it.

I checked my HUD's timer. I only had a minute to go. I rechecked the magazine that I had hand loaded, and then slid it into my mag-rifle, my augmented reality linking the status of the rounds to my HUD. I rolled over, and slid my rifle to a comfortable position, braced on my shoulder. I calibrated my AR once more, ensuring the correct aim. Wind speed and air pressure appeared on my HUD for a moment, and I mentally calculated my angle adjustments. I lowered the rifle, the barrel pointing slightly above and to the right of my target. The wind speed slowed for a moment, the numbers dropping. I waited.

My timer touched zero. I took a breath. I blinked. All noise seemed to fade as I sighted, my cross-hairs locking on the head of the first target. I shifted my aim, compensating for drop and wind. Then once more for barometric pressure. I released my breath, and in the same motion, pulled the trigger. I felt a slight pulse of electromagnetic force wash over me, and as I adjusted my second shot to the perfect location, I pulled the trigger again. Just as I began my third pull, the window I was looking at shattered. All the occupants seemed to freeze for a moment. I kept pulling the trigger. A flash of red. And then another. And then a third. The lives of men snuffed out my the tiniest twitch of my finger. I didn't miss a single shot.

My clip hit the final two shots. I stopped myself for a moment, took a breath, and quickly pulled off the last two shots. I saw a bright flash of light where the top of the building used to be, and then smoke poured out. My job was done.

I removed the magazine, loaded a fresh one in, and slipped my rifle into a black golf bag. I placed a head cover over the little bit that was protruding over the top. My job was done here. Now just extraction, and I could go and live my life in peace. Finally.

I made my way down the building. People were staring at the target building, pointing and speaking. I kept walking.

I made it to my house, and I slipped my rifle into another bag. I was nearly there. I grabbed a bag off the floor in my living room, and I slapped a sequence of buttons on my stove. It was a self-destruct sequence that also told my superiors I needed extraction, mission accomplished or not. They would know by now anyways. I hopped in my car, and headed off towards a private airfield, owned by my 'uncle', another deep-cover agent, family and all.

I boarded a plane there. It was a private jet, full of everything a person could want. I took a long, hot shower, my mind wandering. I was done. I was finally done. I could finally drop my callsign, Virus, and get my name back. Finally.

I left the shower, feeling clean and refreshed, and headed back to the lounge of the jet. Pouring myself a glass of bourbon whiskey, I sat down on one of the few couches, and I glanced at the news scrolling across the flat screen. Apparently, news of the assassinations were already hitting the world. "Russia in chaos", one read. "No leadership", read another. I smiled to myself and leaned back into the cushions. My job was done.

I fell asleep, a content smile plastered on my face.

---

I woke up. The news channel was blaring out something I couldn't understand. I cleared my eyes, and saw the launch of what could only be a nuclear warhead. What had happened? Did I fail? No. Not my fault. It couldn't be my fault. I watched in horror as nuclear missiles launched from silos all over the world. I had woken up to the end of the world.

Author's Note

It's a filler... but not really. This is the finale of Virus on Earth. Comment, concerns, criticisms, commands, and compliments welcome. Anything not defined by a word that starts with 'C' or 'c' is not. I will definitely release a chapter on the 27th, it's my birthday, and I have a special planned.