Read CL Hart -From A Distance for Free Online

itself, she liked to dress up rather than down.
    Her target was located in a small apartment building crowded within the bowels of Guadalajara. With a dense population of five million, there were few places one could observe unnoticed. A vacant lot situated across the street from the four-floor apartment house would have made a good place to lie in wait, but a quick examination of the area told her there was little coverage for a sniper shot. Kenzie repositioned the heavy canvas bag on her shoulder as she decided to see where Cori Evans lived before she found a spot to watch Cori Evans die.
    Mexican and American music blared loudly outside and inside the apartments as Kenzie made her way down the narrow hallway. Doors opened and doors closed, but no one paid her any mind when she stopped in front of apartment 307- She knocked quietly then tried the knob. It was locked. No surprise. A quick glance left and right and Kenzie had the cheap lock picked and was quickly inside. A wave of warm air engulfed her as she closed the door behind her and looked about the room. It was basic and plain with simple furniture. There was a hint of jasmine in the air and she wondered for a brief moment if it was the woman's perfume.
    Kenzie looked around the apartment. In some ways, it reminded her of her own house. It was neat and tidy, but didn't have a lived-in feel. There was no real warmth, no feeling of home. The kitchen was clean, the tables were spotless, and the door to the bedroom was open. The smell of jasmine grew even stronger as she glanced inside at the made bed. A quick, but thorough search of the room revealed little about the woman in the photograph in her pocket.
    The woman's passport was taped to the underside of a dresser drawer - a predictable hiding spot. Kenzie flipped through the blank pages. Not a traveler. She looked at the lone photograph on the dresser next to a set of keys in a basket. Kenzie picked up the photograph and looked at the picture of Cori with her arms draped around an older woman. Her mother, Kenzie guessed. Who are you and what are you into? Kenzie looked at the smiling, fresh face of the young woman. A terrorist threat? No, not likely, she answered her own thought. Then what? She doesn't look like the type to be starting a revolution. Maybe she's sleeping with a terrorist. Maybe she is the terrorist. Whatever... That's someone else's problem, not mine. I'm just here to fix it. Just do your job, soldier.
    Kenzie was careful to leave the apartment just as she'd found it. She paused on the front stoop of the apartment building and looked around for her best position, somewhere high and out of sight. She scanned her options and then made her way across the street and onto the rooftop, unseen. Within minutes, her rifle was together, sighted, and ready, then she made herself as comfortable as possible. Hours passed in the heat and she felt the fatigue of the last week grow heavy on her eyelids. The Middle East and back, and now Mexico - a lot of miles and a lot of thinking. The heat radiated off the brick ledge and she did her best to ignore it, but she couldn't ignore the memories replaying in her mind. Kenzie shook her head, more to eradicate the thoughts swirling in her head than a weak attempt to stay awake. Stay focused - stay on target.
    Wiping the sweat from her face, she watched and waited, but there was no sign of Cori Evans. She checked her weapon, tweaked the sights slightly and then peered through the scope. The rim of metal rubbed against the fresh stitches on her cheek. It didn't hurt but it did remind her of what had happened on her last assignment. Repressing the memories, she pulled the picture from her pocket and then looked over the smattering of pedestrians in the area. Cori Evans, what are you doing in Mexico? Why does someone want you dead? The thought furrowed her brow as her fingers traced back and forth along the raised ridges of the skin on her cheek.
    She reached for her bottle of