The only movement in the sky was the bats flapping around, furiously flitting back and forth in search of insects to eat. Wind was nonexistent, the sky was clear, and the moon was beating down and illuminating the tops of buildings.

This made Ran's job so much easier for her. It was a piece of cake truly.

She took the stairs two at a time, striding up the staircase with a confident air than only comes with concrete confidence in one's self. The black boots she wore were the only source of noise, a soft padding with every contact they made with the metal floor.

Swinging open the heavy door that said "No Entrance," she stepped out onto the concrete roof, the air was brisk, but it felt crisp as she inhaled deeply, closing her eyes briefly. Getting back on task, she slipped over to the edge, sitting down and resting the large purse she'd been lugging around on her shoulder on the ground next to her criss-crossed legs.

From there, she hauled out a metal suitcase and rested it on top of her now empty bag. As she unlocked the case, putting in her fingerprint, and then the combination, it was an effortless routine, one memorized completely from back to front and back again.

Gazing across the way, she focused in on the commotion across the way. Opposite the gap, a building which stood a few stories shorter was teeming with people, all dressed in suits and cocktail dresses. They were mingling on the rooftop, drinks in hand, and loaded in jewelry to the nines.

It was quite the "little" gathering they had going on there, Ran thought, thinking that she wouldn't mind attending a similar one herself. The building had its own lush garden on the roof, the grass a vibrant green, and manicured religiously. A few tables were set-up here and there, teeming with appetizers to wet everyone's appetite. Even a few staff were drifting around, holding platters of champagne flutes and desserts expertly on one hand.

Ran's tongue ran across her lower lip, mind wandering off to the sweets she had at home waiting for her.

Returning to the task at hand, the suitcase was opened with a manicured hand, and the contents were lifted from the molded compartments. With a click, two pieces were connected, then a third slid on, the scope locked on, and then the silencer screwed to the tip of the barrel.

The dark-haired woman rose to perch on one knee, and rest herself comfortably so she wouldn't have to shift for long periods of time if need be. She lined herself up, rested her cheek against the gun, and then stared down through the scope, regarding her newly magnified target with only cold calculation.

It didn't take her long to set her sights on who she was looking for. The stout, Armenian man was in a two piece suit, with plain dress shoes, a gold watch, and a tacky, patterened pocket square. He was completely engrossed with a woman whose hair was a vibrant, orange and fit snugly into a slinky, red dress that clung to every part of her.

Ran snorted; that dress was from last year, and so out of season by now. Her lipstick wasn't even the right shade to go with that kind of firetruck-red, either.

She squinted, and tailed the man as he escorted the woman to an elegant table with wine, and poured her a generous glass, before giving himself a much lesser amount. They then swayed off to a more crowded area, and joined a group of other people who were seemingly enjoying the night as well.

It had been much too late to feel any sort of regret or remorse, she was too far in for that, and with no hesitation, Ran inserted the magazine into the underside of the sniper rifle, held her breath to better still her body, and trained the crosshairs onto the oblivious man's temple.

Within a second he was on the ground, and gone. Within a minute, the steely woman was packed up and leaving. Within three minutes she was far from the general vicinity of the area in which the crime was committed.

Police had secured the scene and were beginning to pick out people for interviewing purposes by the time she was dropped off a block from her building, bidding goodbye to the taxi driver that had been her second mode of transportation from the skyscraper she had staked out on. She waked the last bit of the way, and entered a ritzy apartment building, the security guard on duty immediately buzzing her in.

She smiled at him, which he returned, putting his hand up to rest in his hair shyly. He was the usual night-shift slave, and was no stranger to her, as they'd both practically taken up residence/work there at the same time.

The elevator carried her up, and she unlocked her door as quietly as possible, so she wouldn't rouse her dog into barking so late and disturbing her unfortunate neighbors.