American Assassin Gif Novels & Stories

The silence in the room was thick, like the haze of an impending storm. Dante’s men stood firm, some with arms crossed over their chests, others with a hand resting near the weapon on their belt. The polygraph still blinked on the monitor, recording the final echoes of the interrogation, while the conspirators at the end of the line shifted with growing unease. One of them—the tallest and most heavily built—clenched his jaw and slowly pulled his hand from inside his jacket. His gaze darkened, and before anyone could react, he drew his gun and aimed it straight at Dante.

He bit his bottom lip, lowering his arms to his sides and glancing towards his palms before asking, "What is it? Y-You...you don't like what you see?" Nate had not spoken yet, gulping when he saw Dante's fingers drop the knife beside him and reach for the next button on his dress shirt. When Nate realized what he was doing, he instinctively leaned downwards, his mind completely pushing away the assassin murderous rumours and all the threats Dante had mentioned, instead reaching for his hands and stopping him from continuing down the placket. "What the fuck are you doing?" Nate pushed his hands away, closing the other buttons as well and hiding the chain back into his shirt.

Alex took her gaze off the scope of the rifle she is holding after taking the shot that hit straightly towards the felon’s head. She then stood up and handed the rifle to Damon, who stood guard as she took her shot through the clerestory window at the empty utility deck of the building.

He agreed without asking for anything in return. "Clear," Denver's voice from the other line. What he meant by "clear" was that he had hacked the Grand Hotel's system and I could walk past the CCTVs that were no longer working. "Thanks. I owe you this one," I spoke softly to him. We can talk through my earing. My left earring is a high-tech microphone so I don't even need to hold a cellphone to talk to him. This is a very safe way to contact the other assassins especially when the mission is not a sole mission but a group.

The Elite Assassin Academy was known for it is undying record of cleaning the streets of bad guys, so why would the grim reaper feel any pain while performing her duty. “Captain, are you there?” Mica’s voice spoke through the grim reaper’s earpiece. “I am here Mica, and I can see you. Just stay in position until I say otherwise.” The grim reaper responded as she clicked on her vision glasses to spot if their target was approaching. “Anyone else feeling very hungry today?” O’Brian voiced, earning annoyed grants from everyone in the group. “Aren’t you always hungry O’Brian?” Becca said as she sat behind black barells on the sidewalk in a full black outfit clickly quickly on her laptop.

“Ah, dear niece, so this is what an average day in the life looks like… waltzing with your kill and staring right into their eyes right before you snuff the light out of it… brilliant!” It was obvious he wanted a reaction out of her, and on a very good day, he would have gotten nothing, but today wasn’t exactly going as planned for the plus-sized assassin. Barbara moved with a speed that would have stunned the girl she used to be. In one fluid motion, she was behind him. She didn't bother shedding the server's jacket; she simply reached beneath it. The cold steel of a ceramic knife was pressed firmly against the pulse point of his neck before he could say another word.

He scaled the rocks with the precision of a ghost moving through the shadows like water. I watched from my private satellite feed , the high-resolution images flickering across my laptop like a cursed movie. He entered through the back—exactly as I planned. He was good. Ex-KGB. Disavowed and disillusioned. Just how I liked them. And he had been paid and tipped too because money wasn't the problem and I had gotten the best. Sarian appeared near the window, her silhouette etched against the soft island light. She looked peaceful, vulnerable and fucking . Maybe that was why Don Julio had loved her because he loves his women vulnerable and perfect.The assassin raised his silenced pistol took aim

The Silent One tried to raise his wires, but the electric shock had slowed his reflexes. Jack’s sword flashed. An upward strike. It cut through the assassin's dominant arm, severing the hand holding the wire. The Silent One didn't scream. He just stared at his stump. "Error," the synthesized voice said. "Calculation... flaw." Jack spun and delivered a roundhouse kick to the assassin's helmet. The visor shattered. The figure crumpled to the ground, the camouflage fading completely to reveal a pale, scarred man who looked more machine than human.

Well all the assasins he had in the room at the moment were all psychopaths who takes joy in their trade. The appearance of Freckles at the weapon room where Lightning was about to exist startled the both assassins but it was Lightning who was the first to react and before the scrawny killer with a lot of freckles could react his throw was slit and left to fall to the ground with a fixed shock expression.

He’s shaking so hard I’m surprised he hasn’t pissed himself or passed out. “I never said I wouldn’t shoot.” I snap as I look around the room; it's filled with filing cabinets, and several pictures line the walls, at first glance, they look like different men, but then I realise they’re all the same man, just at different stages of his life. ‘What is this place?’ Gideon asks, but I barely register what he’s said as my eyes land on a picture of Francis. My watcher is staring back at me from behind a small pane of glass, the dark brown frame enhancing the natural tan that graces his skin.