Solomon killed people for money. Today he moved in on a particular target; a businessman. A businessman who refused to do business with Solomon's employers in the Foundation. A great assassin knows everything about his target's living routine. Being blind was no exception. Solomon had already followed the man several times. He knew things about him that no one else would ever pick up on.
For example, this man's gait was slightly off to the right, causing his right shoe to make a distinct scrape against the sidewalk. A scrape only Solomon could hear. The man had breathing issues and a heart murmur. Solomon could hear them all. As if that weren't enough, Solomon could smell him too. He wore a cheap brand of cologne that stood out in the crowd. It mixed with his deodorant in just a certain way. Solomon didn't need to see to identify his target perfectly.
The smells of steam and coffee from a mobile street cart told him he had arrived in front of the insurance building his target worked at. He heard the chatter of a group of women that always arrived at the same time every morning. They stood around the same coffee cart. Solomon had come by every day for a whole week to observe his target and the environment. He knew every detail.
Beyond the women around the coffee cart, he knew all the traffic. Two buses, one of them carrying his mark, would come through opposite directions at the same time. The same loud and angry taxi driver would be right behind them, yelling obscenities out the window at anyone in his way. A CEO barking orders over his cellphone hurried through the crowd past the group of women. They would giggle at him every time. At a far end of the building a man begged for change. Every scent, every sound, and every angle of the passing breeze served as Solomon's map.
He heard the air brakes of the city buses and tensed his hand on the end of his cane. He stood stock still, just a few feet away from the chattering women who enjoyed their coffee and gossip. Through all the foot falls he picked up that one shoe and its unmistakable scrape. There had been a small rock in the sole of that shoe for the last three days. The first sound of it meant his mark was 12 feet away. Solomon touched a small button on the end of his cane. A tiny needle emerged at the other end.
The smell of the cologne meant he was 5 feet away and the sound of the heart murmur meant 3. With only the movement of a wrist and natural looking use of the cane, Solomon flicked out the end making contact with his mark's right ankle.
"Ow!" The man said. "What the heck was that?"
Solomon heard him shake his foot and continue to walk. He retracted the needle to the notice of no one. The smell faded on the breeze and the sound of the heartbeat and breathing faded. The scraping of the shoe stopped abruptly followed by the sound of the body hitting the concrete. As surprised yells and rushing footsteps resulted, Solomon quietly walked away, tapping his cane to find his path as if nothing had happened.
No one thought anything of a platinum blonde blind man in a dark blue business suit. After all, he was blind. What could he do?
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