When I recall my third killing, I find it somewhat interesting, as the reporters tried very hard to outdo each other when creating their headlines. Seriously now, I really believe that the press has a far darker sense of humor than I. This time my target was Indian; not the red kind—that is, a native American—but a man from India. Again. He was selected by the CIA for more or less the same reasons as my previous hit. However, his case differed slightly, because at its core was religious fanaticism, and somehow he had managed to worm his way into Congress. It was quite by accident that I had witnessed this man beat his wife senseless during an early reconnoiter of his home and the neighboring buildings. Over the following weeks, and prior to the final thumbs-up for the hit, I watched both he and his wife very closely. His wife regularly wore sunglasses, even though there was very little sunshine that time of year, raising my suspicions yet further about his abusive behavior toward her.
