Flannagan wandered around Cornwall, walking along the beaches. It was strange of him to be wandering the coastline at such an hour, but he could not sleep. There was far too much to think about. He had his bounty set, his target was some fella who had made just too many enemies and too much power had gotten to their head.
The man needed to be taken out.
The waves swarmed the shore, white foam almost reaching his shoes, which were already sandy from his walk down. Hertz looked out to the horizon, hands tucked in his pockets, letting out a long sigh before pulling out a small silver flask. It was topped up with MacCallan Whisky. Hertz took a long sip, listening to the lulling sound of the sea.
Cornwall was a lovely place but he would not stay here for long. There were still his fair share of enemies that wanted his head on a silver platter.
A metal cylinder was pressed up against the small of his neck, Flannagan froze.
Talking of enemies.
The attacker was silent, turning Flannagan around by the shoulder and staring him in the face. Moonlight only lit up parts of their face, mouth and eyes. The rest was dark blue.
"What d'ye want, mate?"
A fist connected with the side of his face, Hertz stumbled towards the ocean, slightly dazed. He watched as the attacker came closer, he reached into his jacket, pulling out double pistols, pulling the trigger several times.
The attacker dropped in the sand. Flannagan stood for a moment before holstering his pistols and kneeling over the attacker.
"You're not good news." He muttered. His attacker was wearing official identification, some type of government. Were his government onto him? How?
"Look forwards into life, not backwards...otherwise you may find your face planted into the back of a lamp-post." -Flannagan