The Facilitator

He parked the car in the residential street down the hill and worked his way up the greenbelt to the shrubs next to the stop sign just as he had planned.  He had loaded the Beretta and attached the silencer, and had placed both items in a paper sack, along with the ski mask and bottle of liquor.  He had put on the gloves when he left the Las Palmas house, and he had been careful to wipe all items with a cloth back at his apartment.

He took his position in the shrubs and begin what he hoped would not be a very long wait.  During the next half-hour, two cars stopped at the stop sign.  He could look through the shrubs as the cars approached and tell from a distance what type of car it was.  One car continued straight and the other turned left.  He could see the lights of downtown Hollywood in the distance.  He wondered why fate had brought him to this location so far from the peacefulness of the Mesilla Valley to complete this insane act on a person he had only met twice.  He was beginning to enjoy the stalking of a victim and for a time considered re-enlisting in the service. But this time he would only do so if he got a guarantee in writing that he would be sent to sniper school, and then back to Vietnam to practice his trade.

As these thoughts were crossing his mind, he saw the approaching headlights of another car working its way up the hill.  He put on his ski mask and readied his weapon.  He took a couple of deep breaths and waited, as the headlights got closer.  As the headlights approached, he noticed another set of headlights appear further down the hill.  He estimated that the trailing car was about one-quarter mile behind the car closest to him.  At about thirty feet away, he recognized the maroon Mercedes and could tell that it contained just a single occupant.  There was no turning back now.  He quickly made the decision to proceed with his ambush.  He took another deep breath and waited for the car to make its stop, while he kept his eyes focused on its driver.  As it slowed and the driver glanced briefly to his left, he jumped up from his hiding place and took a few short steps toward the car, so that he was now almost outside the passenger side window.  Johnny never got a chance to get a good look at the shadowy figure that had now pointed the gun at his head and fired two quick shots through the glass.  His body slammed to the left against the door and his hands let go of the wheel.  His foot was still pressed on the accelerator, and the car started accelerating toward the right as Anthony managed to get another shot off at Johnny’s head.  The car went into the greenbelt area and came to a halt as it slammed into a tree with a large thud.

He didn’t stop to see if he had made a clean kill of his victim.  He didn’t even glance back toward the stop sign to see where the other car was.  In less than a minute he had removed the gloves and ski mask, and had put everything back in the paper sack and had reached the bottom of the green belt.  His heart was racing as he tried to remain calm. He managed to walk briskly the remaining few feet to his car.  He drove off, looking around to see if any of the lights of the surrounding houses had come on.  He noticed at least two lighted houses that he didn’t think were lighted when he arrived earlier.  There was nothing he could do about it now except to quickly get out of the neighborhood.  He felt the sweat on his forehead and rolled down the car window in order to refresh himself.  He encountered one other car on his way down to Cahuenga Boulevard.  He turned his face away from the other car as it passed, and glanced in his rear view mirror to see if the car had slowed down for any reason.  It hadn’t.