Creatures of Habit
Eight blocks away was a nondescript building where Richard Summers was most likely working late into the night, as was his routine. Ali thought about how many of the people on his list were creatures of habit. They lived very busy lives and yet, somehow, they still managed to follow the same predictable routines day after day, week after week, for months at a time. This made Ali’s job easier; it took out a lot of the guesswork and uncertainly while planning their elimination. He, on the other hand, had counted on his lack of predictability to survive both during the war and now.
Ali’s intel was accurate; Richard Summers was hard at work in the conference room of his firm’s office. Despite the fact that he was the owner of the business and had by far the biggest office in the suite, he preferred to work at the big table in the conference room. He could spread out all his paperwork in neat stacks. He would sit at the far end of the table, with his laptop open in front of him and his dinner—usually Thai delivery or some Italian baked pasta dish accompanied by a bottle of wine—set off to the side. He also tended to leave every light in the office on, even if he was the only person there, and he sat facing the entrance to the conference room. Those last two habits were going to make it more difficult for Ali to take his prey by surprise. Still, Ali was confident that he would succeed in his task.
When Ali saw the building, he crossed the street and slowly approached the front door. Just as expected, Ali could see that every light inside was on even though it was far past the end of the business day and there was a single car in the parking lot beside the building.