Streles, Qusmos, Modern District, 3/18/18
Joseph Kalina. Aerospace engineer. Lived with a partner in the Modern District. Brown eyes, brown hair. Politically ambivalent, a lack of votes on record. Anti-government transparency. Worked on the STREAM engine project. Knew Sonia Fairburn, worked with her. Pro-military expansion.
He was nearly halfway home, and the street was very busy. Hundreds of people on the street, all walking in different directions, to different places. Footsteps lost in a field of others, indistinct and nigh inaudible. As busy as ever on the street, not much different from every other night. The cries of animals sounded from hundreds of locations and all sorts of creatures, from robins to bluebirds to mice. And yet, all of it drowned out by the din of footsteps and discourse. It was normal by now.
The man in a black trenchcoat walking a few paces behind him wasn't. From his trenchcoat, he drew a diminutive handgun among the crowd and pointed it towards the sidewalk. With his other hand, he pushed a button on a small remote, and a metal canister hit the cobblestones below.
In a blur, he pointed the gun at Kalina and pulled the trigger. Diminutive as the gun was, it did its job. With a loud crack, nearby eardrums shattered. Nearly simultaneously, a pop sounded and a dense smoke began to fill the area. People scattered, but the job was done. Two holes in Joseph Kalina’s head, one larger than the other on the opposite side, but not as clean as it would seem.
By the time the smoke cleared, the man was gone, leaving a corpse and a horrified, scattered crowd.
