The Billionaires Deadly Sniper

Chapter 4

Second Day, Santiago, Chile

Zoe Claire, who was once known as Zara from the Harts family, was the culprit behind the Onyx Holdings attack. Last night, of course anyone who had known her before would say she’d vanished with no traces, no prints, no clues at all. She slid down the building on a thick climbing rope, dropped a smoke bomb into the rushing crowd and let people scramble.

The tear gas was a cover; while everyone coughed and pushed, she climbed away. By the time the police shut everything down, she was already gone.

Her real aim now was Victor Alaric Kanea, a candidate from the Kane’s family. The Kane’s family had been known for their reputation and dominance in the global city of Berlin and a little across New York. But not as wealthy as the Thompson's family who was the sole pioneer of Onyx Holdings and Co.

The Kane family wanted Onyx’s presidency. They wanted control. That made them dangerous.

Of course a lot of families wanted to get close and do business deals with them so that their name can be heard. But the kane's family had trespass this time. Not only they want to do business. They planned to bring down the Thompson's family fame through the only election that happens once in ten years. The challenge is open to every other family who could prove their worth but only The Kane’s family was next on record who could do such a thing. Due to their level of wealth and fame.

This decision made Victor a target.The plan was simple in design: wound Sebastian Kane, draw Victor out, make him vulnerable. Victor never moved without layers of protection, always surrounded by men and armored cars.

But the attack on Sebastian Kane at Onyx changed the rules. The streets were hot with protests; The Thompson's family supporters shouted for Victor Alaric to step down while others feared the Kane’s family takeover.

Sebastian Kane was softer and more known for his peaceable public face, being hit had stirred the city. Victor sat in a car built to glide and keep him safe, but nothing could stop the moment when a man looked up after hearing the wrong thing.

Victor rode to the hospital in his Bentley, convoy cutting through the traffic. Reporters surrounded him even inside the car — the world wanted his face, and knew his reaction. The radio murmured the morning feed.

“The frontrunner to be the next Onyx Holdings president, Victor Alaric Kane from the Kane family, is expected to visit his brother Sebastian Kane in the hospital this morning. Sebastian was the subject of an assassination attempt last night, which commentators are linking to the Kane family’s contest for the presidency of Onyx Holdings, the most rated company in New York.”

Victor cut the radio off with a sharp motion. “Turn that stereo off,” he said to his driver; the driver obeyed. Silence filled the leather cabin like a held breath.

Linda Kate, the reporter, leaned forward with her device. Her hand trembled a little… The kind of hands that always trembled when a line might break into a headline. “The first call was pretty positive this morning, sir. The surgeon called… they need to operate again on Sebastian’s leg, but they’re optimistic.”

Victor crossed his legs, felt the cool air from the A/C slide across him. His face stayed calm; his voice was low and flat, the kind of resignation that sounds like command. “Okay. Let them do it,” he said. He kept his eyes on the road through the tinted glass, thinking his own thoughts.

“We’ll get there before they prep him, sir,” Linda said, pressing for reassurance.

“Okay, Linda. Understood.”

High above the city, on the twenty-ninth floor of a fifty-story building, Zoe moved slowly and cleanly. A small suitcase sat on the bed. Clothes folded inside. Her lingerie, suits, shirts and everything she needed was neatly folded. People would look at the case and think it was merely a travel bag. It was more than that.

She stepped onto the glass balcony and removed a panel that would have blocked her line of sight.

Below, the hospital entrance showed itself in the morning light: a strip of driveway, a cluster of cars, people moving like small figures. She set the camera on its tripod and tested the zoom, checking sightlines, wind, distance. Three thousand two hundred and fifty meters. The shot she had trained for… for years. A one-shot kill at that distance required steadiness and certainty.

Back inside she opened the suitcase and began assembling. The sniper was built into the case—compact, precise, it was made to travel like luggage. Parts clicked together the way muscle memory finds its hold. In five minutes she had the long rifle ready, its scope clear, the bipod steady.

Four bullets sat in a row on the desk. She checked the trigger; it clicked smoothly and sure. She lay down on the balcony, cheek to stock, her eye to the scope, while she waited.

Down in the car Linda Kate pressed the recorder forward again, quiet now and careful. “Do you want a reaction to the latest story from the Thompson's family, Onyx Holdings and Co. media?” she asked, voice just above the hum of the engine.

Victor looked at her blankly like she’d asked the weather. His jaw tightened. He chose his words slow and controlled.

He wanted to be heard and also to hit back with weight he cleared his throat. “The Onyx and Co, well…” he began, then pushed the sentence out like a verdict. “ This man named Jack Thompson is an attention seeking fraudster. Every time he have a new software to sell, he promises he will save the world, all he wants to do is to destroy it. The Thomson's family are traitors to the Onyx Holding Company. And it's value….”

Zoe watched his car through a lens that made them small and clear in a moving scene. She felt the distance, measured the wind again, checked the alignment of the scope. Outside, the city moved and shifted; inside, the convoy kept its pace toward a hospital where his brother Sebastian Kane lay wounded. Victor Kane spoke and the recorder captured every flat and dangerous line.

She breathed slowly. Her hands didn’t tremble. The sight held steady. The bullets sat ready beside her. She would wait until the moment he was most vulnerable, until protection slipped and a man showed himself raw. The plan was already in place. Her finger hovered near the trigger, patience wound tight like a drawn rope.

Below, Linda kept talking, the reporter’s voice filling small spaces, she asked, prod and recorded everything Victor Kane says.

She was cut shut by the driver.

Linda Kate pressed further: “So what will you do if you. emerge as the new president…”

Victor answered with the same low steel he’d used all morning. The car moved through the city toward the hospital, toward rooms and surgeons and the smell of antiseptic. Zoe watched through glass and optic, a distance between them that felt like the quiet before a storm.

Just then the driver halted, to the convoy at the back: “ETA in three minutes.”

"Copy that”

The Bentley hummed, the city slid past, and Zoe watched through at long-range observation that made him a small, clear target.