Little Blue

Sometimes when life goes too fast you just have to go to wind down somewhere. For Frank Tempelton, that somewhere was the New York Zoo. He stared at the penguins, thinking how good the water must feel. Frank was a professional hitman. The night before he had murdered an FBI investigator down by the docks. One bullet to the back of the neck, and he crumpled in a heap on the peir. Frank had called the man as an anonymous source. Frank tied two fifty pound weights to the man's ankles and pushed him over the end. Knowledge is a dangerous thing.

What Frank didn't know was that police had tailed him from his apartment to the zoo. Turns out a fisherman had seen the killing go down at the docks the night before, and had recorded Henrik's liscence plate number. At that very moment, two snipers had guns pointed at his head. They waited for the command "Team Bravo we are good for strike." Hopefully they wouldn't have to hear that. Hopefully. The S.W.A.T. team didn't want to have to kill Frank with children around.

Frank was a large man, to say the least. He towered over most people at 6'3". He weighed 220 lbs. They say you can't judge a book by it's cover. In Frank's case, that was true. Sure, he murdered people for a living, but on the inside he was just an innocent man. He just didn't happen to see anything wrong with killing people. Frank had moved on to another exhibit. This creature, the sign told him, is the only red bear in existence. It is a naturally occuring mutation that gives it it's distinctive bright red color. The bear was captured by park rangers in 1997. This information fascinated Frank. He looked up and saw the bear staring at him through the bars of the cage.

The S.W.A.T. team had orders to shoot. After last night it was revealed to them that Frank was, in fact, Frankie Twin Heat, a hitman beleived to be responsible for the deaths of over one hundred and sixty people. They had been tracking him for months. Now they had his identity. That was why they were willing to shoot him in a public place. He was asumed heavily armed and extremely dangerous. He had to be stopped at all costs.

Frank heard the unmistakable sound of a gun cocking behind him. He pulled out his guns and unloaded two half clips in the direction the noise came from. One of the bullets hit the sniper's left shoulder, ripping through bone and cartilidge. The sniper screamed. Frank ran. He ran past the amphibian house, past the world's last spotted leopard, and past the startled pandas. He ran to the front gates, but the police were waiting for him. They raised their rifles as Frank turned around. He heard the report of the guns, then felt the pain surge through his body. Pain from all over. Then, nothing. He collapsed to the ground. The blood began to pool around his body. Frank Tempelton lie dead, shot in the back eighteen times.