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Seth sat up on the roof with her, arms around her as their feet dangled over the edge. He wasn't quite sure how it would help if they happened to fall over, but it still made him feel safer. She was just tall enough now for him to rest his chin against the top of her head as they people-watched, the only thing Seth found he could do with the child for any extended period of time. She was smart. It was interesting to hear what she had to say.
"If you take her out, though, you'd have to watch for the guy next to her."
He wasn't an expert on children, and figured sharing what he'd learned in his time as an assassin wouldn't be too harmful.
"Who, him?"
She pointed and Seth quickly lowered her hand.
"No pointing. If you point, they'll know you're talking about them and they might get someone else's attention. Use your words, describe him."
"Um..."
She looked back at the man, taking a moment to get a description.
"Blue shirt, yellow pants--"
"Beige."
"Huh?"
"Beige pants."
"Oh, yeah. Um..."
"How old do you think he is?"
"Like...really old?"
"Older than me?"
"Yeah."
"Alright. Look out for him, if you take out the woman next to him he'll likely notice first."
She turned her head a little, as much as she could in their position.
"How d'you know that?"
"He's been watching her this whole time. He probably likes her, but she doesn't like him very much."
"Really?"
Sure enough, just as Annette went back to watching them, the man stood, making an attempt at looking suave as he made his way over to their initial "target". The woman put on a fake smile, attempting to brush off his affections and get back to her routine. Persistent, the man leaned on to her table. A few of the patrons also sitting outside the cafe took notice.
"Looks like he might start a scene."
"Should we leave?"
"No. If they start something and we get a clear shot, that's the best time to take it."
"What if we hit someone else?"
"We'll have to try not to. Worst case scenario, someone else is hit, but the target is dead. Unless the contractor wanted no one else injured, we're fine--just a little rough."
"When can we shoot?"
Seth watched as things escalated. The woman made it painfully clear that she didn't want any company, and she was on the verge of yelling. A few others were turned around in their chairs, performing the usual routine of "don't help unless it looks really bad". Some of the crowd was on their phones, calling either the authorities or a friend to update them on the situation. Finally, a waiter came out of the cafe to push the man away, likely telling him to leave before they had to call the police.
"Now. She's clear."
"Would it hit anyone else?"
"If the waiter moves, he'll get a nasty hit, but she's the only one that would die."
"Oh."
Still furious as the harasser left, the woman thanked the waiter and continued about her business.
"What if we can't hit anyone else? Then what?"
"Now would be good. If anyone calls the police, they'll probably say that other man was the one who shot her."
"That's good for us."
"Yeah."
"Do you get upset when you hit other people?"
"Not really. It's just better to keep things as simple as possible."
"Did my dad feel bad about it?"
A pause. She always picked the most unexpected time to ask those sort of questions. Seth held on to Annette tighter, taking a moment to watch as the woman below them finished her food and hurried off, calling someone.
"He did what he had to. He always tried to keep things easy, but when he messed up...He was upset with himself, I guess."
He turned his head to rest his cheek on Annette's head. Her hair was soft. It needed to be combed through.
"Because he messed up?"
"Yeah."
"Oh."
With a sigh, Seth leaned back to get them safely onto the roof. Annette stood, picking up one of the tiny rocks that were scattered across the roof's surface. Seth watched as she threw it over the edge, hitting the woman's table dead on.
"Nice shot."
Annette smiled up at him and, hell, she looked just like James.
"C'mon, let's go get something to eat."
"Okay."