A distorted shadow was cast before him, short and disfigured by the angle of an overhead security light. Smoke drifted from the almost consumed cigarette clenched between his nail-bitten fingers. The cold stung his exposed skin, but he didn’t flinch. Except for the slow moving haze as he exhaled, his silhouette was frozen in place, as if offering him a depiction of his soul.

With unblinking eyes, he monitored the door of the building across the street. An independent gym, whose owner was unaware that for months every aspect of his life was being studied. That his reality was about to be gravely altered.

There was movement. The door to the gym opened outwardly and a man emerged, his hands thrust into his leather jacket. Even from a distance and at night you could tell that he was the kind of guy that could take care of himself.

No matter. While force could never be taken off the table, it would be information that destroyed him.

He watched as the man got into his truck. There was a roar and a puff of exhaust condensed in the night air. The truck reversed, then slipped into gear. When it had disappeared down the street, Frank Thomas emerged from the shadows and slipped around the corner to the back of the vacant building. He walked like a man with nothing but time as he crossed the rear parking lot and entered the woods where the pavement ended. His car was hidden in a clearing amongst the trees.

With a deep drag on his cigarette, he held the smoke in his lungs for an extended beat before exhaling. It would be his last cigarette for the next few months, as his plan moved into the next phase. To be credible in the role he had to play, he couldn’t be a smoker. It was a habit you couldn’t hide, because the smell got into your clothes and clung to your skin. It meant that abstinence was the only path forward.

The payoff would be worth the sacrifice, though. Everything his target owned would be his.

After a final drag, he exhaled and flicked the spent butt into the darkness. He slipped his hands into his pockets. In his right he found the keys to his car. The fingers of his left hand closed around the metal sheath of a military knife.