The target would be in disguise. That didn’t matter to Sydänkäpy. He had the eyes of a predator bird—a hawk or falcon—and was not distracted by false mustaches, wigs, or a phony limp. He’d studied this man, seen footage of him. And would know him in a snowstorm.

Sydänkäpy spent time setting up his equipment. A small laptop fed real-time information to him through earbuds. A folding stool kept him comfortable, so he didn’t have to kneel for hours. And, of course, there was the rifle. A Finnish gun that Sydänkäpy had used many times. Not the same gun but one like it. He tended to use one of three or four different weapons for jobs like these. Guns he knew intimately. His pick for tonight was a Sako TRG 42 long-range sniper rifle. Without a doubt one of the finest sniper rifles in the world. It was a much-improved version of the old Sako TRG 41 on which Sydänkäpy had learned his trade.

The TRG 42 had a new and very comfortable stock design. And the weapon was designed to handle more powerful cartridges with a maximum length of 95 mm. It was a manually operated, bolt-action rifle chambered for .338 Lapua Magnum cartridges. That gave him an effective range of fifteen hundred meters. During daylight hours, he used the Picatinny-type scope, but as a coming storm darkened the day and night fell, he switched to a night vision scope, the kind adjusted to accept some artificial light—streetlights and the neon around the hotel entrance—without blinding him. Very expensive and very subtle technology.

The other bit of tech he added was a sound suppressor of a kind that also reduced muzzle flash. Sydänkäpy liked things nice and quiet.

As the hours passed, he watched the arrival of police and crime scene units. He saw ambulances appear and then vanish. He saw crowds gather to watch, dispersing only a little as the first raindrops fell. He listened to police chatter via his coms unit and got updates from his handler. He knew everything that took place inside the hotel.

Almost.

The target had vanished, presumably to a bolt-hole within the place. The computer team working logistics and intelligence did pattern and keyword searches on the guests booked into each room. Only one of them had a dog.

A blind man. And one whose credentials were beautifully constructed, even down to small details on social media platforms. Very sophisticated.

That made Sydänkäpy smile. He appreciated good tradecraft.

It was full dark when the blind man and his white service dog stepped out of the hotel. Sydänkäpy shifted into position. The rain was blowing toward the hotel, which meant that the air conditioner housing blocked it from splatting on him. The angle of the wind kept almost all droplets off his scope. Nice.