I caught on quickly that he was planning on turning traitor, as he tended to ask too many questions. Since I was the only member of the unit he never met, I was assigned to keep an eye on him. After tracking his movements for only a couple of days, my suspicions were confirmed. He set up a meeting with an american counterpart to give him the names and information on every member of both his old unit and our unit.
Poor bastard never had the chance. He met with the american at a small quaint rural restaurant. He ordered a coke and sat in the booth closest to the door. Just before he could blurt out the first name to his informant, I gently squeezed the trigger on the crossbow.
The arrow wizzed at lightning speed and nailed the center of his chest with a thud. His chest heaved forward and his head jolted back from the force of the hit. He sat there, bewildered and confused as the arrow shook from the quivering of his heart. He slumped in his seat.
I was able to sneak out the back in the chaos that ensued. Uri, on the other hand, was left as a useless pile of flesh.
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