Download - Walkthrough To Hitman Series

The response was little more than an inarticulate gurgling noise, so 47 was forced to remove his
foot, and thereby relieve the pressure on Jamal's tortured windpipe.
“Now, try again.”
“Money,” came the raspy response. “I was going to take your money.”
“That's one possibility,” the agent allowed darkly. “But there are others. How can I be sure that
you're just a thief?”
“My hand,” Jamal said piteously, as he held up the hook for inspection. “They cut it off.”
It had long been the Muslim practice to amputate hands, arms, and in some cases legs, as a
punishment for thievery. While this approach was gradually falling out of favor in many Middle
Eastern countries, it was still considered an effective deterrent in others. A fact that seemed to
support Jamal's claim. So, having completed a quick pat down, Agent 47 backed out of reach.
“I suggest that you find a new line of work. You aren't very good at this one.”
Jamal continued to hug his knee and moan softly as 47 put the shovel back where he had found
it.
“I'll leave the gate ajar,” the assassin promised, as he bent over to retrieve the Krugerrand. “And
don't bother to get up. I'll see myself out.”
Having left the little courtyard behind, Agent 47 paused at the point where the side passage met
the main thoroughfare, and took a moment to adjust his red silk tie. Then, having assured
himself there weren't any additional Jamals waiting to attack him, he resumed his journey.
A right-hand turn took him down a short flight of stairs, under an arch, and past a group of boys
who were playing with a soccer ball. It soon became clear that what had once been a residential
area had gradually transitioned into a small souk with specialized stores slotted along both sides
of the street. The establishment 47 was looking for lay about a hundred feet farther on, just
around a gentle curve and opposite a family-run grocery. The sign out front read MEN'S
CLOTHING, in both English and Arabic, followed by ABAZA TIRK, PROPRIETOR, in
smaller letters, carved out and painted in gold.
Having stopped to inspect the overly ripe fruit displayed on the other side of the thoroughfare,
and to make sure that he hadn't acquired a new tail, Agent 47 was forced to wait for a group of
black-clad women to pass before crossing over to the store. Like the shops located to either
side, the clothing store was quite narrow, which made it necessary to hang clothes in tiers, the
highest of which were suspended just below the ceiling, and only accessible with a long pole. It
was hot and musty, and there wasn't much light, but what there was came from ceiling fixtures
that were at least seventy-five years old.
A well-worn aisle led straight back to where a man with generally even features, slightly bulging
eyes, and a servile manner stood waiting. He was dressed in a red fez, a well-tailored gray suit,