By Royal Design

Napa, California, September HE LAY CAMOUFLAGED AND MOTIONLESS on the ground. His face touched the warm, rich soil. He savored the scent of the succulent grapes above, which were hanging heavily on the symmetrical rows of vines. The sun had just disappeared over the mountains to his left. The man was alone. However, he knew others were nearby. At least two of them; that was standard procedure. He did not know their names or their faces. He wore a dark-green jump suit, the kind paratroopers wore. Underneath he wore an Armani tuxedo and black Gucci shoes. My wedding uniform, he thought with a smile. It was twilight now. He could hear the festive crowd only two hundred yards ahead. He lifted his head. He had an unobstructed view of the stage where the father would give away the bride. He noticed the many guests beginning to take their seats. With hands covered in latex surgeon's gloves, he removed the small patch of grass that covered the hole he had dug earlier. He pulled out the black, airtight plastic case and removed the components to the Savage-Anschutz .223 sniper rifle. Practiced hands assembled it. He removed the Leupold optical infrared sight and fitted it. He stroked the cool metal of the barrel. Always at this time memories of his father came back to him, when he had shown him how to fire a hunting rifle. The same rules applied in this dark trade: one shot, one to kill. He opened the chamber and loaded one bullet. He placed the Savage-Anschutz next to him.