Sister Karen

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Mystery and Crime  |  House: Booksie Classic
A hard-ass sister extracts revenge.

Submitted: July 12, 2008

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Submitted: July 12, 2008

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A A A


 

 
CHAPTER 1
 
Slowly growing used to her heavily bandaged face, Faith Nixon lay in her hospital surrounded by flowers. Her still very distressed parents had just left.
 
Faith wept.
 
That was one thing she could do without triggering pain.
 
He phone went. Gingerly she pushed the speaker button.
 
“Hello.”
 
“Hi little darling.”
 
“Karen!”
 
The sound of laughter filled the room. “Yes, it is I, alive and well.”
 
“Where are you?”
 
“Pulled back, recovering from a grenade fragment in my back.”
 
“That scarcely sounds well.”
 
Karen laughed lightly and said it was a fucking lot better than being enclosed in a body bag.
 
Faith wailed, “Oh Karen.”
 
“I’m fine, truly. Just after taking mom’s call I received air tickets and a leave pass for two weeks in England. I’m not required to live in a military installation during that time. The only requirement is I’m back at the airfield to catch my scheduled flight back to Afghanistan.”
 
“Karen, seize the opportunity and disappear. I want my sister alive.”
 
“I’m a trained fighter with a job to do darling. Just leave it huh? You don’t understand.”
 
“I understand more than you think. I…”
 
“Button up Faith. Mom told me you have a gouged eye that’s coming along nicely as is the broken jaw, two broken cheek bones, an arm fractured in two places and heavy bruising around the stomach and you know where. Have I missed anything?”
 
Faith burst into tears and said, “A broken heart. They killed Michael before they worked on me, thinking they had left me for dead.”
 
“Who are ‘they’ Faith?”
 
Faith stopped crying. “Why do you want to know? You cow, you haven’t even asked me how I am.”
 
“That would be a waste of time. You’re a tough little bitch. You’re only say okay but uncomfortable. Okay, how are you Faith?”
 
“Okay but strapped up like this I’m very uncomfort...oh crap.”
 
They laughed and then Faith was asked to answer the question.
 
“What question?”
 
“Who were they?”
 
Faith became defensive. Why do you wish to know?”
 
“If I ever do return home I wish to avoid them.”
 
“You’ll return home Karen, fit and well and highly decorated for bravery because you’re that kind of person. Alan and Barney Withers, John Owens and John Drake.”
 
“We grew up with them. Scum then, scum always. Have the police arrested them – mom refused to discuss it. God she’s so soft she couldn’t fight her way out of a paper bag.”
 
“The four of them were released twenty-four hours after being arrested. They had good alibis and there’s a lack of evidence and it’s my word against the four of them.”
 
“Fuck.”
 
“The police are still working on it – a really big team.”
 
“Of course they are, your sweet Michael was murdered. I was a little soft on him myself.”
 
“I know you were but he chose me,” Faith said, crying again.
 
“Chin up and think about the next good guy you have to find darling. My ride to the airport is waiting; I have to go. Chin up.”
 
“You’ve just said that.”
 
“Sorry. Then I’ll say I love you dearly Buttons and I’m glad you are being very brave about this. Let mom’s softness reach you.”
 
“Am I hearing correctly?”
 
“You are buddy. Over and out.”
 
A nurse came into the room. I heard you talking so stayed outside. It’s time to check your urine container.”
 
“That was my sister. She’s overseas.”
 
“Oh, shopping?”
 
“She’s in Special Forces in Afghanistan.”
 
“Oh crap.”
 
The two women looked at each other and smiled, communicating like only females can.
 
 
Buttoning his jacket John Drake left the warmth of the bar and walked briskly to his pickup. He was almost there when someone stepped in front of him.
 
For a second John panicked but peering forward recognized the person.
 
“Oh hi Karen. Long time no see.”
 
A huge pain engulfed his face. “You bitch, you’ve broken my nose.”
 
He removed his gloved hands from his face and saw the blood seconds before excruciating pain shot his groin as one of Karen Nixon’s heavy boots thudded into his cock and balls. Vomiting he was aware that Karen was lifting him up by the shoulders and then…nothing.
 
A few minutes later a guy and his girl came from the bar and saw a guy had collapsed by his vehicle.
 
“Better tell the bar staff; it will be snowing soon,” said the female.
 
The bar manager came out with a torch and the three of them looked at the suspected drunk. The woman said, “Why is his head at the funny angle?”
 
The bar manager said, “Guys, come back to the bar with me. This is serious. I need to call the cops and you are witnesses.”
 
* * *
 
The strident ringing of the house phone awoke Milly Withers and she padded back to the bed, dug Barney in the ribs and said, “Phone. It’s your brother who says it’s urgent.”
 
Alan said, “John Owns has just arrived with terrible news. Some fucker has killed John Drake. Get over here quickly.”
 
The three 30-year-olds sat around the kitchen table drinking beer.
 
“I think it was a random assault,” John said tentatively.
 
“Could be,” Alan nodded and Barney simply shrugged.
 
“What can we do?” John asked.
 
Alan scratched his balls. “Hope the police do their job and make a quick arrest. In the meantime I’m carrying my pistol.”
 
John asked was that a good idea and Barney said he would tool up as well.
 
“Me too,” said John. “We must watch out backs in case it’s a rogue cop insanely mad in not being able to break our alibis.”
 
“Fuck,” the Withers brothers said and Alan said what they all were thinking, “Which cop?”
 
 
Lieutenant Belcher sent a message to the Chief of Police, attending a District Law Association dinner that had dragged on past midnight because so many long-winded members wished to speak and now guests were being invited to ‘say a few words.”
 
Chief Allen excused himself and left the room to speak to the lieutenant on night duty.
 
“What is it Paul?”
 
“One of our chief suspects was found murdered in the parking lot of The Blue Angel Bar forty-five minutes ago.”
 
“Murdered?”
 
“Severe broken nose, testicles mauled in a huge kick and then neck broken expertly by a powerful twist.”
 
“Oh crap. It’s happened in time for the fucking Sunday paper to make a meal of it. Made an arrest?”
 
“Nothing to go on. He’s John Drake, Peewee Drake’s son.”
 
“That criminal. Pity it wasn’t Peewee who had his neck screwed.”
 
The lieutenant asked nervously, “What do you want me and the boys to do?”
 
“Make an arrest.”
 
Paul Belcher mopped his brow. “We’re here to take our chief suspect in for questioning, Jack Nixon, father of the girl who claimed John Drake was one of the assailants.”
 
“Get back to work Paul. I’ve been chatting on and off to Jack Nixon most of the evening and we went to the men’s room more than two hours ago and that is the only time all evening he left the table. We returned in less than ten minutes later. What a perfect alibi Mr Nixon has, who is one of the most respected attorneys in this community.”
 
“Damn,” said the lieutenant, mopping his face. Enjoy the rest of your evening chief.”
 
 
Police teams scoured the city all night. Anyone found walking or driving was stopped and questioned. Special personal including forensic experts worked in the cordon-off car lot. Finally a homeless guy was brought before Lieutenant Belcher.
 
“Okay, the rest of you guys clear out, leaving just me and Sergeant Gaston here. Take complete notes Jill and note evasiveness and anything else of possible usefulness.
 
“So your name is Sam.”
 
“That is correct sir, Sam Johnson.”
 
“And how long have you been polluting our city landscape Sam?”
 
“Sir, I don’t understand what you mean.”
 
“How long have you been living off our streets and holed up somewhere at nights?”
 
“It could be ten years.”
 
“What you don’t know?”
 
“All days are the same for me sir expected the weekends when there are no so many people about.”
 
“Sam, what did you see?”
 
“This guy comes over the fence out of the parking lot now crowded with police and almost drops right on me, scaring the crap out of me. He says in a muffled voice ‘Sorry’, tosses me ten bucks and just disappears.”
 
“Describe this guy.”
 
“Somewhere between five feet and six feet. Wearing dark clothes and boots. Couldn’t see his face because he was wearing a hood.”
 
“What else?”
 
“Nothing.
 
“ Come on Sam. We need more info. Give me a more accurate description of height.
 
“What’s half way between five feet and six feet?”
 
“Five foot five.”
 
“Five foot six sir.”
 
“You heard the sergeant.”
 
“Well he was perhaps half way from five six and six feet. No more.
 
“How much more?”
 
‘I haven’t any idea. I was lying down, scared.”
 
“Well thank you Sam. You have been of some help I suppose. You’re a witness so don’t leave town.”
 
“I wasn’t figuring on leaving my patch.”
 
“No, I guess you weren’t. Arrange a cup of coffee and a sandwich pack for Sam please sergeant.”
 
* * *
 
Three days later during the church service prior to the burial of the body of John Drake, released after an autopsy, there was an undetected break-in into the home of his lifetime friend John Owens.
 
Later, a police presence at the burial failed to stop the killing. As John Owens reached out to take a rose to drop on to the coffin of his buddy, his arm dropped uselessly to his side, blood gushing from a shattered shoulder and then a bullet blew away the top of his head before the first people began to scream as John’s body toppled forward and lay over the grave of his friend.
 
Fifteen hours later and two hours after arriving back in London rather drunk, Karen Nixon stepped in front of a policewoman about to cross a street, was reprimanded, abused the constable and was arrested. Although detained, the charge of disorderly behavior against her was dropped when Karen woke up four hours later and apologized to the policewoman. When routine enquiries from police in America were made it was found Karen was on leave in London and details of her arrest and release were found. It was decided she would have had to move like a scalded car to get back to London in the time of the killing to the time of her arrest, so enquires were not made about the possibility Karen Nixon had flown to America and return during the previous week.
 
Karen returned to Afghanistan as scheduled, with unfinished business.
 
 
Alan and Barney Withers and their families went to ground, staying with relatives in Texas for a month to escape the killer. The police had published the positive description of the guy, although it wasn’t much. The brothers believed they were next in line to be executed and decided to hightail it, accepting Lieutenant Belcher’s theory that the killer was probably a hired assassin from the east coast or even Italy. They both lost their jobs but on their return took lower paid work and a couple of months later were relaxed again which was just before Karen returned home on a month’s leave to be chief bridesmaid for Faith.
 
Karen’s parents and Faith and her fiancé Carl met her at the airport amid great excitement.
 
“Hello Carl,” she said. “I must say you appear to be the perfect match for my lovely sister.”
 
“I was told to expect a tough babe; nobody mentioned you were beautiful.”
 
Karen kissed him and told their mother, “I like him mom. He lies so expertly.”
 
* * *
 
Alan and Barney Withers were drinking in the Blue Angel Bar with four friends when the Nixon sisters and a guy walked in.
 
Barney nudged Alan who smiled and said to his brother, “Let’s see how tough they are. If the soldier sister is the one who murdered our pals she won’t be able to resist showing us what’s she made of. Then we’ll know and deal with her so no one sees her ‘accidental’ death.”
 
The confrontation was intended. It was Karen’s idea after Faith had told her she occasionally spotted the brothers but so far had ducked for cover and had managed to evade them.
 
Karen took Faith on a walk along the river and sat on a seat in the open where Karen knew she could spot anyone approaching. “Faith, are you capable of keeping the biggest secret and swear you’ll never tell anyone, even under duress?”
 
“Oh God, you’ve shot one of your own people by mistake during a mission?”
 
“Answer the question Faith.”
 
“Yes, yes. I swear.”
 
“I killed two of the fuckers who murdered your darling Michael. Now don’t go soft on me and go to pieces. I’ve come back for the wedding and also to take revenge on those remaining two. They are cunning and will be hard to put down.”
 
“Karen, ohmigod.”
 
“Keep calm. It was nothing. I’m a trained killer and they were the enemy.”
 
“Karen, it’s murder and you did it for me. Oh god.”
 
Karen said they were vermin and deserved to be eradicated. “Darling, I’ve got to confront the brothers with you and do it publicly so that they end up not suspecting I’m a danger to them. That may then allow me to get the drop on them.”
 
“What face them?”
 
“Yeah, just work on your brain. Convince yourself they remain a danger to you but they are not officially guilty of beating up you so severely and bludgeoning Michael to death. It’s understandable the cops found no evidence against them apart from your accusations, so no charges were brought against them, the DA’s office agreeing with senior police. If you agree to do what I want you to do, then I’ll attempt to put you through a psychological processing to make it easier on you when you face them. But I’ll need your full cooperation for that.”
 
“Okay, I’m prepared to be an accomplice. I owe it to Michael.”
 
“Darling, you’ll not be involved. You won’t be aware of it when it happens.”
 
“Oh this is terrible; make me strong Karen.”
 
As the sisters and Karl entered the bar the sisters saw the brothers look at them and whisper to one another.
 
Nothing happened.
 
Faith was worried the plan wasn’t working but Karen smiled and whispered, “Relax, it’s running along nicely. They are looking at us more and more and I can feel the tension rising. The timing is right for me to act. Remember, keep Karl right out of it.”
 
Karen walked past the brothers and their friends, heading for the women’s rest room. Alan stepped out and gave her a shoulder a swipe with his. Karen staggered and apologized sweetly, saying she wasn’t looking where she was going.
 
“Oh hi, it’s Alan…um...yes, Alan Withers. Oh there’s your brother over there. Hi Barney.”
 
Barney looked momentarily even more confused that Alan. He strode over and said he saw Karen assault his brother.
 
“No, it was an accident and I apologized didn’t I, she said to their friends. Two of them replied yes, they heard her.
 
“Are you gunning for us because your sister thought we did her some harm and had a hand in the fatal beating of her fiancé?”
 
“No, of course not Alan. It was a case of mistaken identify and Faith would have been in deep shock and I was told the cops regarded her as an unreliable witness.”
 
“Show us your tits Karen.”
 
“No thank you Barney.”
 
“Show us your tits,” Alan snarled, walking right up to her.
 
“No, please leave me. You are scaring me. Let me pass.”
 
“Without your gun you are a sniveling coward soldier.”
 
“I said leave me Alan. Faith!”
 
Faith came running and pulled out a personal hang gun, one of the smallest on the market. Her hand shook like crazy.
 
“Karen, you take it,” she said, and lobbed the run gently to her sister, calling the safety was on.
 
Karen caught it but it went through her fingers and she ended up catching it by the barrel, the gun pointing directly back at her.
 
The guys were laughing, Alan braying like a donkey.
 
“Bang!” he shouted.
 
Karen dropped the gun on to the floor and then appeared to scramble to pick it up and did so on the third attempt. She began crying, handed the gun to Faith who put it back and her handbag and placing her arm around Karen said, “Come on, let’s go.” She saw Karl racing up and waved him away to the door.”
 
They left the group behind them killing themselves laughing.
 
“I’d told you that place was a dive,” Karl complained. “Let’s go to a decent bar. Why the fuck are you carrying the gnat killer Faith? If you want self-protection buy a decent firearm. And Karen, if that’s an exhibition of today’s military training, then god help us.”
 
The sisters looked at each other and grinned. The plan had worked perfectly.
 
 
During the next eight days Karen’s parents and Faith didn’t see much of Karen. She’d purchased a gray pickup and spent a lot of time at an abandoned quarry where she’d towed in a hired digger to move around big rocks into position she’d drawn on a ground plan. She moved an old shed and positioned that a few yards in front of the row of spaced out boulders and after returning the hired digger spent a day and a half to remove all signs that earthworks had taken place, helped by a mini cloudburst just after midday on the second day. She then arrived back at night and spent time running between the rocks, using a very low-powered lamp on a headband that, from a distance, would make it almost impossible to see.
 
On the Friday night she returned to the quarry after dark, lit a lamp in the hut and then went back into the city and from a street call box phoned the Blue Angel Bar and using a handkerchief over the mouthpiece asked in a deep voice to speak to Alan Withers.
 
“Hi Alan, it’s Karen Nixon. Sorry if I caused you any embarrassment in front of your friends last Saturday.”
 
“Me being embarrassed? That was you, attempting to being tough and then blowing it and making a fool of yourself with that toy gun.”
 
“I was nervous because my sister is scared of you and Barney. Look, I just want to get peace for Faith but doing a deal with you. I hand over $5000 to you at a safe place and in return you guarantee Faith’s safety.”
 
“Five grand? You must like your sister very much.”
 
“I do. She’s so dear to me. But let’s get this straight. This is between only you and me. I want to meet you in the old hut 100 yards inside the old Shelton Quarry on Shelton Road tomorrow night at 9:30. Do you know the place?”
 
“Yeah. Me pa used to work there. But do you take me for a mug? You could be waiting to lure me in to kill me.”
 
“What, and get my father or my sister arrested as a prime suspect. You and Barney are completely safe from reprisals from my family because we’d immediately become suspects.”
 
“Oh yeah.”
 
“Well, pack a pistol, a rifle and a shotgun if you want to feel protected. All I want is to pay over the money to secure Faith’s belief that she can walk through the city and feel safe.”
 
“Okay but make that ten grand.”
 
“What?”
 
“You heard.”
 
“But that will take almost all of my two-year gratuity for service with the military overseas.”
 
“Oh tough.”
 
“What about seven thousand Alan. Be fair.”
 
“I want ten grand and your assurance you will allow me to fuck you for an hour.”
 
“What?”
 
“This is boring. I’m going back to my beer.”
 
“No, no wait Alan. I’ll do what you want. Change any of the arrangements. I chose the old quarry well out of sight of the public because I thought you wouldn’t want to be seen with me and taking money as if that happened I could complaint to the police you threatened to hurt me unless I pay over money.”
 
“Yeah, I would have thought smart like that, wouldn’t I? No the quarry is fine. I’ll be there at 9:30 alone but without weaponry because I trust you. Just wear a pretty bra and pretty panties and sexy stockings, eh?”
 
“Yes Alan. Oooh I so happy this meeting will relieve my sister of her fear.”
 
Karen was trained in the handling of explosives. She made a bomb, using products found mostly around any farm barn and farmhouse and next afternoon ran wires back to behind the hut. She then swept dust over the wires and after placing her ‘box’ in a hole twenty yards inside the gate carefully attached the wire ends and covered the explosive device with two lengths of sturdy wood and swept over it. All she wanted was a big bang, with a bit of flame and plenty of smoke.
 
An hour before sunset Karen returned with a rifle and shotgun she’d borrowed from her Uncle Ted’s home in a city twenty miles to the south. There had been no need to enter the house because she knew the guns were kept in the garage in a locked steel cabinet and she also knew where the key was hidden. “How very convenient of your Uncle Ted, “ she grinned, talking to herself.
 
Hidden on a hill near the quarry entrance, Karen had only just finished her coffee when she saw a vehicle stop 100 yards short of the gate. She recognized it as Alan’s vehicle and saw him and his brother get out. They were carrying rifles. Alan walked slowly towards the entrance while Barney jogged over the pasture and around the hill where Karen was positioned to approach the hut from the side. As Alan came through the gate she could see him talking on his cell phone, probably calling Barney. She smiled. Real amateurs they were, trying to think big.
 
Alan walked confidently to the hut; his rifle raised but obviously not expected anyone to be there at that hour. He went behind the shed and she heard him break the grimy barred window and at that moment Barney kicked open the door. Barney entered cautiously as if expected a booby trap and Karen heard Barney call, “All clear” and then, “She’s got a rug on the floor and there’s a packet of condoms on the table, food for supper and beer and wine. That Karen babe is genuine.”
 
“Well, after I’ve emptied myself into her a couple of times you can have her Barney. You like ass, have hers.”
 
 
Karen gave them half an hour to settle in and then walked straight in with her shotgun and caught them with their feet up on the table on two of the four chairs she’d furnished the hut with to make the set-up look authentic.
 
“Hello boys.”
 
“Oh shit,” Barney cried. They looked to her left and Karen smiled after glancing there. She was between them and their rifles but she notice the handgun under Alan’s belt before he casually pulled his jacket closed.
 
“What now?”
 
“Don’t be too impatient to find out Alan. You’re not going to like it,” Karen said, taking two ropes she’d earlier placed on a nail on the back of the door. She was wearing gloves, a cat suit and hood but no mask. She didn’t wish to be seen in three hours when the fun started and then when she went the half-mile down a farm track to Burrows Road where she’d left her pickup.
 
Karen took two pairs of rubber covered handcuffs off a clip on her belt and instructed the brothers to clip one on there left hand, and then place both hands across their back while she completed the cuffing. As she cuffed Barney, Karen pushed the barrels of her shotgun against Alan’s face and the revolver dropped from his hand. She then tied them to the table to prevent them rushing her together. Kicked the revolver into a corner and spent the next ninety minutes terrorizing them.
 
Leaving both men sobbing and quivering, Karen took the keys from Alan and walked off and drove back and parked his vehicle outside the hut, to the left of the door. She then uncovered the battery she’d hidden and placed that by the wires behind the hut, connected one wire and then pulled out a can of gas she’d left behind a rock. Karen then ate some of the leftover good and rested on her rug on the floor. So far so good.
 
The guys pleaded to be freed.
 
“Not yet.”
 
“Do it now, we won’t hurt you,” Alan said, looking almost believable through his smile.
 
“Boys, you are going to die tonight but not by my hand. I don’t shoot dogs.”
 
They trembled and looked at her wide-eyed.
 
When daylight was almost gone she undid one of the cuffs on Alan, keeping the shotgun hard against the back of his head. She then pulled the gun around until it was under his chin and then calmly lied to him: “I have decided to let you guys go but to release you into police custody. When they arrive I shall drift away.”
 
She finished rehearsing Allen and he grunted when she said she would fire both barrels into his belly if he failed to follow his line or if Barney opened his mouth. The brothers showed their sweat.
 
Alan recited his spiel almost word perfect. “Hi, this is an emergency call involving firearms. I’m Alan Withers. My brother Barney and I have been kidnapped and taken to the hut at the disused Shelton Quarry on Shelton Road. The guys have guns. My brother and I are known to the police. The guys are outside having a pee, two of them. The fools had left my cell phone on the table but unfortunately they took their guns with them. We fear for our lives. Hurry, please. Shelton Quarry. Hurry.”
 
The evening was chilly. Karen uncuffed Alan’s other hand and told him to undress and huddle on his hands and knees facing into the far corner. She repeated that process with Barney and looked at the two quivering asses with contempt and loathing.
Karen placed their rifles on the table.
 
When the cops come they’ll probably fire a few shots this way thinking the kidnappers could be springing a trap. I want you guys at that point to get up and fire a few shots over their heads and they’ll then halt their shooting and yell surrender terms. Then simply walk out and throw your weapons down and place your hands into the air. Don’t shoot the cops because you know what judges do to slime balls that shoot cops.
 
“Where will you be bitch…er…Miss Nixon?”
 
“Thank you for your concern Alan. I’ll be out the back under cover with this headlamp I’m putting on. I’ll shoot you down like wild dogs if you try to bolt out that way. Now stay where you are. I have a couple of jobs to do outside but will keep an eye on you through the door and back window. Make a move to grab your rifles on the table and guess what…”
 
When the sirens sounded close Karen emptied her can of gas over the cargo tray of the partly laden pick-up and inside the cab. She lit the spills, leaving both doors open and then hurried around the back of the cabin.
 
She said, “I can see you boys” although they were out of her view but she had a great view of the table and out past the lamp and down to the gates.
 
Just as she expected the four cop cars came belting up the road, turned into the quarry and stopped as they saw the blazing car. The cops gathered for a conference. One carried a bullhorn.
 
She fired off three quick rounds through the cabin, through the door and out over the heads of the cops who dived for cover. She then calmly bent down and attached the free wire to the battery terminal clip and looked up through the window to see a rather impressive explosion and one of the planks of wood fly through the windscreen of one of the cop cars. She then cracked off two more shots and said, “You safety is now in your hands guys, think carefully” and melted into the background, switching on her headlamp and she ducked from big rock to big rock she’d placed randomly to protect her ass in her getaway.
 
A volley of shots rang out and then came the sound of closer firing as the brothers fired back and then a big boom from a piece of heavier artillery from the police and something big hit the cabin and exploded, setting the cabin alight.
 
 
Karen’s mother said, “You’re late dear but I saved your meal. Did you have a good time today?”
 
“I had a lovely time mother and a big weight has lifted from my mind.”
 
In the morning their father returned to the breakfast table, grinning and holding up the front page of the newspaper: ‘Withers Brothers Ambush Police at Shelton Quarry Killed in Shootout… Mystery Accomplice Escapes.’
 
Faith groaned and fell forward, ending up with her face in her cereal in a faint.
 
Their mother yelled, “Faith, what’s wrong!”
 
“She’s fainted mom,” Karen smiled, going around the table to attend to her sister. “I wonder if it’s morning sickness. Then again she no longer has Alan and Barney Withers to worry about, does she? The police have only done what they should have done in the first place, shoot them down like dogs.”
 
Karen smiled sweetly at her parents who were looked at her, mouths open.
 
Faith revived and whispered, “Thanks sis. Big load off my mind?”
 
 
THE END
 


© Copyright 2017 Grigor McGregor. All rights reserved.

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