Bullets and cigars X4: The raven

A raven--the sign of death--flew down from out of the north. It rode a thermal of hot air that rose up from the hot desert below it. It circled for awhile and then dipped down closer to the ground, moving in on whatever animal or insect it had spotted with its powerful eyes. The raven moved fast. Dropping from five hundred feet to only fifty feet in a matter of seconds. It glided with perfection over the flat ground in front of it. It’s wings beat once, pushing its body faster. The claws, like the wheels of an airplane, dropped down from its body, preparing to strike. The eyes, narrowing, locked onto it’s prey. It was only 10 feet off of the ground now. A scorpion, crawling along the glistening sand, had only a second to react before it was snatched up and carried away to its death. The raven let out a piercing shriek and soared off into the clear blue sky. It’s prize in hand. Rock blasted down the dirt road on the back of the Harley. A cloud of dust pouring out from behind him. The cerei and agave’s flew past him in a blur. To the left, the sun was dropping down behind the mountains. The giants, casting a long shadow across the desert landscape. It would be dark soon. Rock flipped on his headlight and took a quick look down at the speedometer: 105MPH, not bad. He should be where he needed to be by midnight. With the hot desert wind blowing over his grizzled face, he thought to himself about how this operation would go down. He knew his target well, from the information he had been given. Donny Robucco, being the dumb shit that he was, at least knew his victims well. Rock gathered that this guy, Anthony Carapelli, was being released from Pelican Bay State prison today after a seven year stint. Carapelli would meet with one of his associates, most likely his brother Stephen, as soon as he was out. It was up to Rock to take out the target before he was able to retreat into any kind of safehouse. Among the many items that Mr. Robucco had supplied Rock with, one of them was a rolodex of all the places Anthony had done business, as well as a list of the people he did it with. Most of them were the shit of society type; ciminals, thugs, brainless drug dealers. All assholes. Some were relatives and friends that Anthony had grown up with. Or inmates who he associated with in prison. Rock had scanned through all of these names but wasn’t convinced that Anthony would go to any of them. Maybe sometime down the road, but not today. He would be meeting with his brother Stephen, Rock was sure of it. The location, on the other hand, would be a little harder to find. But he knew, with confidence, that he would be able to find it. Rock knew, with some regret, that he would have to ditch his Harley as soon as he rode into town for something a little more stealthy. In order to tail the target to the intended destination, Rock would have to be as silent as possible. The Harley, sounding like the beast that it is, just wouldn’t do in that sort of situation. With that in mind, Rock throttled the engine and raced even faster down the road. The sun was almost beyond the mountains now, a bright flash of light could be seen shining out from between two peaks. The sky was ablaze with oranges and reds casting a crimson glow over everything. It was the twilight hour. Rock grinned widely, leaning further into the handlebars. It was a hell of a night for ride.