II : Vine Harder

The Amateur never forgives, but he does forget because of poor organisational skills.

The answer phone is paying dividends and through a series of discreet phone calls, voice muffled behind some sturdy oven gloves, The Amateur gets The Professional’s mail re-routed. Signing for this one was awkward. Fortunately they look swarthy and impassive and bastardly and so forth so The Amateur should be able to distance himself emotionally from the gruesome deeds he is to commit.

Sour Grapes, II

Not helping guys!

The Professional’s handbook says “The Professional leads a frugal existence, preferring not to draw attention to himself with erratic spending.” The Amateur’s ability to forget came in handy as he stocked up on silencers and zooming binoculars (the binoculars last mission were approximately as useful as a large pair of glasses)

Thusly equipped, and having bussed in from Santiago with a group of pensioners (no going back, he only bought a single ticket), The Amateur takes in the fantastic party in the vineyard. The Amateur’s favourite action star, Rex Stanton, will apparently be somewhere, and he hopes he will impress with his gunplay. With a bloodcurdling scream, The Amateur draws a pistol, kills a guard and dons his uniform

Sour Grapes, III

Lesson learnt: Don’t do this in the middle of a party.

The Amateur decides to have a less violent look-around. A few deaths reveal that going into houses gets you shot by the guards, except for this dude, who The Amateur stalks for several minutes and dubs John Barrelman before deciding it’s too much bother to disrobe.

Sour Grapes, IV

Patrolling the outside of the house, however, is a lone guard. Stealthily, The Amateur approaches him. Stealthily, the Amateur garottes him in the face, stealthily changes suits, and stealthily disposes of the body. Unfortunately, if we just look down the seemingly sheer cliff here…

Sour Grapes, V

…we can not-quite-see that it landed on the seaplane The Amateur was instructed to use for an exit, next to an exceptionally bemused-looking guard, who raises the alarm. Okay, try that again. This time putting the body in the shrubbery. The Amateur is now a part of the System.

The Amateur notes that he can see one of his targets from this vantage point, in a balcony overlooking the waterfall, and makes a note to snipe the bastard if a more exciting option does not open up. He seeks to investigate the main complex, using his cunning disguise. He listens to the local sports in the guard station, where a breathless announcer is shouting “GOGOGOGOGOAAAAAAAAAL”.

Sour Grapes, VI

Their suspicious glances bely their total acceptance of this master costumerer, but The Amateur decides to keep scouting after taking all their shotgun ammunition.

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Apparently the disguise doesn’t work if he actually tries to enter the house. So he needs to pretend to be an even more special guard. Several attempts to put on an air of invincibility and an arrogant accent do not work so The Amateur reluctantly attempts a different route, heading through the strangely voluminous wine cellars, falling in with a tour party.

Sour Grapes, VIII

He practically bumps into his second target, and instinctively shoots him, scattering the tour party and then getting killed. Okay, subtlety. The guy stands below what The Amateur can only describe as a rickety heavy piece of poorly-secured crap. How can we use this….explosives! There appears to be some explosives around here but the guard is very clear, he’s going to shoot my face and stamp on the remains, so The Amateur plots a scheming plot to gain explosives. He checks his inventory. Explosives!

Planting them, he searches for a better disguise if he should need to escape more quickly, and finds a useful guard in a catering hut, syringing his neck with delicious poison so as not to leave a pattern. It is surprising how many guard-sized caskets are just lying around the place, The Amateur counts five on the ground floor of the Hacienda alone.

Sour Grapes, IX

He is now able to penetrate the wine cellar, where he finds….another bakery?

Sour Grapes, X

Hey, there’s Rex Stanton! Hey Rex! Rex what are you doing to the flour?

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My childhood icon! 😦

The Amateur decides the time for exploration is over, the time for sniping is now! The numerous guards on the second floor appear to be playing pingpong while using party poppers and cracking whips as they don’t hear the shot or don’t care, one of the two. The Amateur moves back into the wine cellar with explosives on his mind, and detonates the bomb which loosens the winch which sends down the wine-boxes which crushes the drug lord and absolutely terrifies the tour party walking past right about then.

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Possibly one of them saw The Amateur, but The Amateur nobly legs it through the bakery and down to the seaplane. As alarms sound around the vineyard, FREEDOM!

Sour Grapes, XIII

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