With apparent obedience, Matthew went still, coming to a solid stop only just out of sight of the window. His presence would mar the shot, not even an inch at this distance, but with that kind of shot, an inch became half a mile at a certain distance away. Geometry.
Matthew didn't know much about modern weapons, but he had discovered that certain kinds of glass, the kind that didn't "ping" his senses or disturb the air in the same way as some other kinds, resisted when they were crashed into. He suspected this glass was such a kind, and given James' professional abilities, that made the gun standing in front of the other man's prone form very powerful indeed.
Matthew turned his slowly, the obscuring dark lenses a reflection of a reflection. There was no question that he was watching the woman beyond with his other senses, just as James had used his scope. "The woman," Matthew confirmed. "They make very good assassins, they do." He was not joking.
"What need is there of her death now? She seemeth... past her prime." Matthew came from a world in which few people made it to fifty.