47- Flashlight Guard

  Thanks to a piece of very bad luck, the assassin had dropped into the garden only a few feet from the point where one of the guards had stopped to tie a shoelace. And the sentry must have been a very cool customer, because rather than shout for help, he remained silent. So much so that 47 was completely unaware of the fact that he’d been discovered until he heard a faint whisper of fabric, caught a whiff of cheap cologne, and felt the aluminum flashlight slam into his right forearm.

  The pain was excruciating, and his pistol was still in the process of falling when a bony fist came around to connect with the assassin’s head. That sent him reeling backward, which was almost a blessing, as it bought 47 some time. Not much, but enough to draw the DOVO with his left hand and flick it open as his shoulder hit the ground.

  Certain of victory, the guard jumped onto his victim’s chest and brought the flashlight up over his head. But before the smuggler could bring the weapon down, steel flashed in the moonlight.

  Agent 47 saw the spray of black blood before he felt the warm liquid spurting from the cut. The sentry looked surprised. His head wobbled and slumped sideways, and the rest of his limp body followed.

  The assassin rolled right, came to his feet in one smooth motion, and bent to wipe the DOVO clean. His right forearm wasn’t broken, but it hurt like hell, and it would be a while before sensation returned to his hand.

- Hitman: Enemy Within, Chapter 10