Alex Mason closed his eye and lowered his rifle. Dang Numbers. He thought. Mason just laid there, the numbers running through his head. His trance was broken at the sound of a Carcano rifle discharge. He moved back in position and looked down the scope of his M14. Mason kept his sights on the High Value Individual in the convoy. A second shot rang out. This time however, it didn’t miss. It hit the HVI, traveled through him, and struck the man in front of him. But the shot wasn’t fatal. Why’d they choose him for this mission? Mason thought.
Mason had enough. The target was moving slowly, and after two misses, Mason didn’t know if the other man would make the shot. He led the target and pulled the trigger right as the other assassin fired.
Thank god for suppressors, thought Mason.
His round slammed into the back of the target’s head. Instead of sticking around, Mason slung the L96 over his shoulders and took off running. The Numbers came back into his head. Mason ducked into the nearest alleyway and screamed. He couldn’t shake the numbers…
Mason woke up. He was pinned down to a table. He screamed and tried to escape, but the bonds were too strong. He looked around. He was back in the operating room. Mason looked around franticly, looking for Dragovich or Kravchenko.
“Where are you!? Dragovich! Kravchenko! Answer me!” A light directly above Mason turned on. He closed his eyes, but the light was too bright, and he could still see it through it eyelids.
“Mason. Listen to us” Said Dragovich. “You need to listen. There’s only one thing we’re asking you to do Mason. One thing! Two sleeper agents will go through with the plan, and we need you to help Mason. We need your help Mason. We need you to assist Oswald to taking out your president.”
“Never! I will not!”
“Mason. Listen to us. We need…”
“…you to help Oswald in taking out Kennedy. Mason! You need to kill your president!”
“NO! Never! No!”
“Put him under again. We’ll try again tomorrow.”
` Mason woke up in a cold sweat. He was in a cheap motel somewhere in Dallas. There was a knock at the door. Mason rolled out of bed. He realized he was still in his clothes from the other day. Or was it the same day? He didn’t know how long he had slept for. He walked up to the door and opened it. It was Jack Ruby.
“Ruby,” noted Mason. “Glad to see you made it out.”
Ruby nodded. Mason noticed something was off. “What’s wrong?”
Ruby looked at Mason. “Oswald’s been compromised.”
“Oswald’s been compromised. Not surprising.” Replied Mason.
“What are you going to do?” asked Ruby. Mason walked over to his dresser, and picked up the .357 Magnum that was laying there.
“Don’t worry Ruby.” Replied Mason with an evil grin. “I’ll make sure he doesn’t talk.”
Ruby nodded and walked out of the room, closing the door behind him. Mason set the .357 down on the dresser and locked the door. He got in the shower, got dressed in a jeans, a white T-Shirt and a large black jacket. He took the .357 and tucked it into his belt, then pulled the jacket over it. He walked over to the TV and turned it on. The news was talking about the assassination, so he listened. Nothing he needed to know was said, so he turned it off. He turned on his stolen police radio, and walked over to the corner of the room with the lamp. He picked up the duffle bag, and unzipped it. The L96A1 was still in it. He zipped it back up. Mason walked over to the police radio. “Suspect spotted!” “Where?” “At a movie theater! Different one. The address is…” Mason listened intently. Oswald, thought Mason. He slung the duffle bag over his shoulder and walked out of the room. He walked down the hall, paid the owner, got into his car, and drove off.
It took him 20 minutes to arrive at the theater, and Oswald was just being “escorted” out. Mason stood on the side walk and watched the police escort him to a squad car. Mason smiled and evil smile and ran up behind the cop in the rear.
“Sir! Sir!” he yelled “There’s a mugging going on!”
The cop looked at Mason and said, “Where?”
Mason pointed at the alley and followed the cop into it. Before he knew what was going on, Mason had a knife plunged into the back of the cop’s neck. Mason clasped his hand over the cop’s mouth. He lowered the cop to the ground and dragged the corpse behind a dumpster.
A minute or two later, he stood up, dressed as a cop. He threw the cop’s body into the dumpster and walked out of the alley. He walked back to his car. Mason opened the door and grabbed the duffle bag. He looked through it and found what he needed-C4 and the detonator. He armed the C4 and shut the car door. He then walked back across the street into the doughnut shop. He sat down and ordered something to eat and drink. A few minutes later, a tow truck appeared-it was attempting to tow Mason’s car. He smiled and detonated the C4, destroying the car, the tow truck, and some bystanders. Mason stood up and walked out of the shop.
As he walked down the street, a squad car pulled up next to him.
“Hey man, what are you doing? The explosion was the other direction!” said the driver. Mason continued on walking. “Hey!” Mason broke out in a run. After running about 10 feet, Mason pulled the M1911 out of the holster and spun around. He let off two quick shots at the driver, both of the rounds slamming into his chest. Before the passenger could react, Mason lined up the sights and let off a shot. It impacted his head and killed him instantly. The third police man in the car grabbed the shotgun that was on the dash board and got out of the car. A bullet slammed into his throat. As he was dying, a second squad car pulled up behind Mason. All four cops in the second car got out. Mason shot at the driver, and struck him the shoulder. He fired another round, striking the passenger in the chest. He let off his last two remaining rounds and ran across the street into the alley. Mason pulled up the sewer grate and climbed down. He pulled the grate over his head and slid down the ladder.
Mason threw the M1911 into the sewage and ran along the elevated platform until he found the next sewage grate. He climbed up the ladder, pushed the grate up and climbed out. He looked around. He was near a clothing store. Mason walked in, grabbed a T-Shirt and jeans and changed in a changing stall. He walked out. He walked down to the nearest motel and checked in. When he got to his room, he walk strait to his bed and fell asleep.
Mason woke up a 6:30 the next day. He climbed out of bed. Mason walked out of the room and paid the owner of the motel. He walked almost all the way across town. He walked up the steps of a run-down apartment and knocked on the door. Dogs started barking, followed by screaming. Ruby opened the door.
“He’s not dead Mason,” said Ruby
“I know,” said Mason. “You’re going to kill him.”
Mason explained to Ruby how Oswald was in the middle of being arrested and was surrounded by cops when Mason saw him, and how he had a police uniform and was going to be part of Oswald’s escort out of the prison, and would help protect Ruby from the police. Ruby reluctantly agreed to Mason’s plan.
Hours later, the afternoon sun was beating down. It was warm for November, Mason noted. He was standing guard outside the prison gates, and it was only minutes away until Oswald was released. More and more reporters where showing up. Minutes passed like seconds, and Oswald was walking out of the gate. Cameras flashed, reporters yelled and Ruby reached for his pistol. He fired off a quick shot-striking Oswald in the stomach. Everyone scattered. Mason pulled the .357 out of the holster and pointed it at Ruby. He squeezed off a shot and hit Ruby in the head, dropping him instantly.
Mason turned and looked at the cops behind him. One of them looked up. “IT’S HIM! It’s the guy who killed some of us yesterday!”
Mason pulled out his .357 and shot the cop. He then bolted across the street as bullets whizzed by his head. He ran into a shop and threw opened the maintenance door. Ran up the stairs and didn’t stop until he got to the roof. He ran to the side closest to the prison and fired a shot at the cops running across the street. He missed, but stalled them. He ran across the roof and made a leap of faith. He landed on the next roof, but just barely. He scrambled onto the roof and aimed his revolver at the door of the roof he just left. The first cop opened it and Mason fired off a round. The cop fell backward. Mason ran across the roof and leapt to the next roof. He fired at the police when he saw them. He knew his shot hit when blood spewed in the air and he cop fell back. He ran and jumped to the next roof. Mason did this across three more buildings before he stopped. A spotlight found him. Mason turned around and looked at the helicopter that was hovering over him. Mason fired two rounds at the helicopter. It pulled back and flew away. A cop threw open the door. Mason spun around and shot him. He ran up and grabbed the gun he was holding-an M16A1. A second helicopter flew up, and Mason let off a burst of fire at the helicopter, causing it to fly away. He leapt to the next building and looked back. Two more helicopters were heading his way. He jumped from building to building, each jump dropping farther and farther down. The first helicopter caught up to him. Mason held down the trigger and fired off the rest of his 20 round magazines at the helicopter. He struck the fuel, which ignited and blew up. He jumped to the next building. When he landed, bullets landed all around him. The second helicopter caught up to him. With no ammo, he ran across the roof and dove off. He threw the M16 away and put his hands together over his head. He landed in a canal, and swam with the current.
“Is that all that happened?” the investigator asked the reporter. It was 40 years later
“Well, after he shot Ruby, the police rounded us up,” replied the reporter
“A bald guy with sunglasses told us to never speak about Ruby’s death again. He then took all of our photos and film and destroyed the ones with Ruby getting shot.”
“Do you know his name?”
“Interesting,” replied the investigator. “Thank you for your time. You are helping us get one step closer to finding out who really killed Kennedy.”