(OOC: Should he live, or die? Live or die, live or die? *goes to flip a coin*)

"Here we go, here we go!" Elegy instinctively lowered herself, bracing for the coming impact, as the high-pitched sound reached them.

The explosion rocked the entire building, plaster dust shaking out of the cracks in the ceiling. For a second, as he gripped onto the table in an attempt to keep his weapon steady, Grave was almost afraid that the shoddy building they hid in would come crumbling down from the vibration. But his mind was quickly occupied by other things, namely, the hideous groan of wood as the structure supporting the canopy snapped and began to fall backward, fabric billowing with the heat of the flames.

Screams filled the air, the mass of people immediately scattering from the point of violence. Almost immediately, there was the burst of gunfire from Overture and Finale's building, tiny explosions marking each bullet as their aim trailed haphazardly at the guards that rushed toward the stage. There were more screams, most coming from the guard who didn't make himself small enough in time. The guards wheeled their heads around, fixing their eyes on Overture's building, and began firing their own weapons.

Two guards on Rest, two more chasing after Sharp, and a whole lot opening fire on Overture. Grave turned his attention to his target. Gordon lay in his black suit on the floor of the white-painted stage, a virtual target. Two other guards were at his side, pulling him to his feet, but having difficulty. His head was obscured by the body of one of the guards, their heads turning left and right as they shouted into a walkie-talkie. Grave peered through his scope, attempting to steady his breathing. So it occurred to Grave, all the thoughts that he held in check, all the doubts and worries he held at bay came flooding out to him in those few moments he waited for Gordon's head to appear from behind the shoulder of the guard. With a simple motion, the contract with political rival Reeves would be fulfilled. With a simple motion, he would put power into the hands of a man more cunning and manipulative than Gordon. With a simple motion, he would trigger events beyond his control, events that would inevitably impact the city, the people and the Circle. Things would never be the same.

The back of Gordon's head appeared underneath the cross-hairs, jerking from one side to the other as the guards pulled him toward the stairs of the stage. Grave let out a breath, stilling the trembling of his hands. No turning back now. His finger found the trigger of his gun, Gordon's sweaty face turning to look behind him, and Grave pulled.

There was a great explosion, almost as loud as the previous one though without the shockwave. Blood spurted on the stage, a body falling limp against the wooden flooring. There was a blood-curdling scream, sputtering into silence and Grave could see it all. Gordon was sprawled across the ground, blood painting his expensive suit, his eyes fixed forward in an expression that was not the look of death. It was horror. Grave jerked up with the realization, his eyes wide. "Shit."

Elegy had moved from her position beside him by then, her back pressed against the wall by the door. She had not heard him. "I think there're people coming this way."

Grave leaned out the window, almost unable to believe his eyes. One hand wrapped around his sniper rifle, staring down at the scene below. Gordon, almost unable to rise to his feet, was instantly covered by the only other guard left standing, sunglasses-covered eyes scanning the building. "I missed."

"What?!"

There was a burst of gunfire, Grave instinctively covering himself with the sill of the window as bullets punched holes in the ceiling above. "I missed, dammit!" He pushed himself away from the window, keeping himself low as more bullets fired into the room.

Elegy dropped to the ground, her pistol held above her head as Grave darted past her to take cover in the hallway. She looked frantic. "What do we do now!?"

Grave threw his gaze down the hallway from where they came, able to hear clear shouting echoing from the stair-well just down the hall. They couldn't go down that way. Grave gritted his teeth, and said, "Follow me." He broke into a sprint down the opposite side of the hallway.