Sometimes you've got to take a little damage... to blow someone's brains out.

Everything was set up as it needed to be. From the senator's usual schedule, to the possible paths that he would be going home. Everything should have been simple up front. A few changes since the last time this came into play. It was as though he had been forgotten about, yet not at all. It wasn't an identical set at all, but he didn't know what to make of it. People here were strange enough, and there had been a few fights to pick, but nothing special. In between everything, as expected. This was his life. This was what he remembered, wasn't it? He had been out of contact with anyone and everywhere here. There was no crew, he didn't need them. But there were people he did recall being set up with. To do something else. He couldn't completely recall what was going on, but there was that absent-minded rub to the back of his neck. Why did he do that? He couldn't even be bothered to dwell too much on this either.
There was more to this, but he had to focus. Focus. Everything settled on this. There was no full realization that he had snapped. That both of these personalities were fighting to be the front runner. Too much confusion, each with their ideas on how to fix things and make them right. Everything becoming more and more convoluted as time passed. Focusing on the job at hand. This was what kept him together. Equipment was together, his own abilities far from being questioned. It was settled, together, it would be fine. He would show him. This would go right and he would get paid. The way he had missed.
A minor detour was made. The man had a mistress. How cliche was that? He couldn't stay away, tonight was the night for this. Floyd was careful, dodging around the area, but keeping a close eye on the target. There was no chance for messing this up. One good shot at all of this and he had to make it right. Fix this wrong that had been made. It was repeating in his own head. The necessity of it all. Face only covered when he was in a place where he could be seen. Places he didn't care if anyone did, for that matter.
This felt insane, he felt insane. But he wasn't allowing that to get in the way outside of the way he felt shaken. It didn't show on the outside, there was no movement as he held the a weapon. But there it was, memories. Old and of a weight he wasn't expecting. But they weren't his, were they? It was so confusing. To sit there and stare down at everything he had created, had set up for himself, but there was a draw back. Why do this? Why was this the right thing to do? Who was paying him? Snapping his fingers, there was no sound from it. Not because he couldn't snap them. It was on purpose. The movement, motion helped him think. It would do him no good to have that kind of sound coming to give his position away. The questions still flooded his mind, but he moved back to focus.
Everything was in place. The senator was inside. That was all he needed. Men were outside, no one cared, no one thought anything was going to happen. They were simply there as per usual. He silently questioned if they didn't hope he would end up dying in there too. The asshole. That was the general thought on all politicians. They meant little in the end. Figureheads for nothing that anyone cared for. People who were supposed to commit change and help those in a specified area. Usually somewhere they had been from. And where had any of this happen? Where was there any real change, except to fill their pockets with money from places and people that were settled into it all. Wanting their interests taken into account with dollar signs.
A route in had been set. Straight from the roof where no one had taken notice of. A blind spot. It had been looked over ahead of time, but not kept watch over. Sure, he could go through the attempt at playing sharpshooter, but given what was going on, that could get messy from the shot advantage. And then there was the whole area of him going from the door to the car. He needed to make sure this was done and done properly before anyone even had a clue that he was there. Walls weren't right. There was something strange about the motion of things, but he just shook his head. Seeing things again. Blinking it away. Much like the thoughts that kept moving into his head.
The moment he stepped into the room, a panicked woman began kicking up to the head of the bed. No words, clinging to the fabric of the blanket to cover herself. The man turning around, but there was something off. A tweak in the program. His head and neck had spasms, but attempting to talk. The walls flickered out again, all around them, as Floyd held his aim with the silenced handgun. The gun on his wrist just needing to go off. But the whole world could or should be able to see them as everything went away, only to flicker back on again.
"What the fuck?" he whispered to himself.
Still taking the shot, he took off before the man could speak. A bullet being shot dead center of his forehead. No sound, only to have fluttered screams, while he made his exit. There were no answers here and this was all wrong. What happened? Where was he really? What had Waller done to him now? He remembered that name? Why? His head hurt so much, but he kept moving. For everything that it was worth, he kept moving.
It was still dark outside, at least until everything changed. The world shifted on its feet as he woke up in a chair. Eyes wide. Not again, damn it. Not fucking again!