American variety show: Sniper Elite

Chapter 3 Mission Completed
The following day, the shocking assassination attempt continued to unfold in Britain and America.

The Foreign Ministry spokesperson skillfully deflected the issue with diplomatic language such as "We are closely monitoring the situation" and "We do not rule out taking necessary measures," subtly passing the hot potato to Scotland Yard.

Faced with overwhelming public pressure, Scotland Yard had no choice but to shoulder the blame alone.

At the impromptu press conference in front of 10 Downing Street, the Chief Superintendent sweated profusely, his tie knot tighter than usual under the flashing lights.

“This is an extremely serious incident…” His voice sounded slightly hoarse on the BBC live broadcast: “We have established a special investigation team…”

Meanwhile, outside Buckingham Palace, protesters held up signs that read "Britain is no longer safe," while a CNN reporter stood outside the police cordon and conducted a live broadcast to the cameras.

Beta lay on the rooftop, her phone playing a live news broadcast.

The wind howled across the rooftop, whipping the waterproof tarp covering him. The fabric rustled in the wind like a restless flag.

Even with the scope set to 15x, at maximum magnification, the chief superintendent in the crosshair is only the size of a soybean, while the surrounding crowd looks like beans crammed together in a can, their faces blurred and indistinguishable.

Beta kept his left eye fixed on the scope, while his right eye glanced at the live stream on his phone.

As the Chief Superintendent finished speaking and his deputy stepped onto the stage to disclose details of the case, Beta's breathing gradually slowed, the rise and fall of his chest became smaller, and his heart rate stabilized.

The familiar diamond-shaped aiming reticle reappeared in the field of view, and the aiming ring began to shrink toward the target at an extremely slow speed.

The aiming frame was initially only the size of a fingernail, but under Beta's precise control, it gradually shrank to the size of a soybean, and then continued to tighten inward at a near-perfect, uniform speed.

On the rooftop of the 60th floor, a cold current from high above freely traverses between the buildings.

The howling wind lashed against the ventilation ducts and antenna supports, emitting a mournful wail and relentlessly assaulting the sniper position with its biting chill. The tarpaulin trembled violently in the wind, making a snapping sound like a trapped wild beast struggling.

The outline of the aiming reticle narrowed continuously in the field of vision, eventually settling on a pinhead-sized area, perfectly locking onto the target's head.

Beta's breathing became extremely light and slow, each breath precisely controlled in rhythm. His index finger rested lightly on the trigger, awaiting that perfect moment, between two breaths, in that fleeting instant of stillness.

As the screen switched to a female reporter standing under a flashing light, microphone in hand, broadcasting live against the backdrop of a chaotic press conference, Beta pulled the trigger.

The recoil gently pushed Beta's shoulders as he lay prone.

The gun was still equipped with a silencer, and a muffled "thud" echoed on the empty rooftop before being swallowed up by the howling wind.

The .0.338 Magnum bullet burst from the barrel, a wisp of smoke rose from the muzzle, and the bullet disappeared from sight in an instant.

Beta maintained his firing posture, gently pulling back the bolt. A smoking shell casing clattered to the ground.

Accelerated by the 610mm barrel, the bullet, with a muzzle velocity of 936 m/s, traces a parabola as it spins towards the target.

1 second. 2 seconds. 3 seconds.
Beta counted silently in his mind, the crosshairs of the scope remaining steadily locked on the target.

4 seconds --
"Whoosh!"

Suddenly, a short, sharp whistling sound of a bullet piercing the air came from the live broadcast. The female reporter, Jasmine, who was passionately providing commentary, jerked her head back and fell heavily to the ground with a thud.

The screen shook violently, and panicked cries came from the background: "Jasmine! What's wrong, Jasmine!"

The camera captured Jasmine's supine body, her eyes wide open, a conspicuous blood hole between her eyebrows, and a pool of blood rapidly spreading behind her head.

After a heart-wrenching cry of "Jasmine!", the scene abruptly shifted to the news studio. The two anchors tried to remain calm, but couldn't hide the panic on their faces.

Beta slowly relaxed his tense muscles and exhaled a long breath.

He deftly packed the ejected cartridge cases into a sealed bag, stuffed them into his pocket along with his phone, and quickly folded the L115A3 sniper rifle and put it into the bag.

It’s still a familiar process.

Unscrew the cap of the hydrogen peroxide plastic container and pour the corrosive liquid onto the gun and gun holster. The magazine was removed, and the remaining bullets clattered into the hydrogen peroxide container.

After completing all this, he walked towards the fire escape without looking back, pushed open the iron gate, and quickly disappeared into the dimly lit stairwell. Only the chemically corroded equipment remained on the rooftop, waiting in the cold wind for the police who might find it.

With an initial velocity of 936 meters per second and a flight time of 4 seconds, this was an ultra-long-range sniping operation at a distance of 3800 meters. Beta didn't care whether Scotland Yard could lock onto the sniping position; the mission was accomplished, and that was enough.

As for the L115A3, it wasn't that he didn't want to take it with him, but he simply couldn't get it through the strict gun inspection by customs, so he had no choice but to leave it in this high-rise building.

Beta's target this time was neither a tycoon nor a high-ranking official at Scotland Yard, but a female journalist named Molly. With her striking beauty and cunning, Molly had successfully ingratiated herself with several political figures, extracting a wealth of top-secret information from their bedside.

Unfortunately, this woman didn't know when to stop, nor did she understand the rules of the game at the top of the pyramid. Not only did she not restrain herself, she also started a column on television, recklessly exposing insider scandals.

This reckless tongue of his ultimately angered some people who should never be trifled with.

Rather than simply sinking the female journalist into the sea as is the conventional approach, the employer clearly had a deeper consideration. What they needed was not just the disappearance of a person, but a shocking public execution.

Jasmine must die in the spotlight, under the gaze of millions of viewers, so that her death becomes the loudest warning.

What could be more shocking than being shot in the head in front of a national audience while broadcasting a major diplomatic event live? This bullet from 3800 meters away not only ended a life, but also etched a deep fear into the hearts of some.

Beta calmly left the building, his spare phone vibrating slightly in his pocket.

He didn't check immediately, but instead strolled along the Thames like any other tourist. It wasn't until he stood on the London Bridge observation deck that he discreetly took out his phone under the guise of taking a picture.

The screen only displayed the short phrase: "Good job."

Beta removed the SIM card and tossed it and the phone into different spots in the Thames. The metal and plastic traced two silver parabolas in the sunlight before being swallowed by the murky water.

The mission was successfully completed. Judging from the employer's brief feedback, there will likely be an additional reward this time.

He leaned against the bridge railing, his gaze aimlessly following the distant shimmering water. The sunlight reflecting off the river was so dazzling that he involuntarily squinted. At that moment, he suddenly thought of Ashley.

(End of this chapter)