The man let out a grunt as teh bullet hit him, fallgin back several feet against the wall in teh room, right beneath teh window, blood pourign from teh perfect shoudler shot. but his hand didn't let go of the manilla folder. His holsters on hsi hips rattled as he lay there, silent and still.
Somewhere int eh distance a menacign wind was picking up. a swirl of smoke froa rooftop int heir vision foresaw the littel gust of wind that broke the silence int he room. The man held up his gun and fired a shot from teh high calibur revolver, it seared through the air, one shot missing esperanza barely, one shot grazing against Talea's cheek,a nd another hittibg masa in leg. the bullet ripped throguh, clean as a whistle, no shrapnel, no breakage, leaving a painful perfect hole through the meat of her leg that lodged in the floor.
Specialized round. who WAS this creep? no shoutign or yellign, no stupid moves from beign shot so hard.. somethgin was wrong. terribly wrong!