Thursday, January 10, 2019

Gun shot

“Get down!” He screamed in the crowd even as the first victim fell, The crimson painted her back as blood pooled around her.

He guaged the sniper direction of entrance and exit wound like finding north on a tree from the presence of the moss.

The sniper was moving to her second target still standing in the square.  A trousseau sculpture about to fall. SHe liked he way her bullets reached out and knocked the people over like bowling pins.  SHe had no emotional. Efficiency was her motto.

Under and behind the truck tire, he scanned the building a half mile away as people continued to exit the square bodies falling like bowling pins.  

At last he saw the open window. 8th floor.  He spoke quickly into his cell floor.  “8th floor,  Pink high rise. Open window.”

It was all he could do.  A team was headed there from outside of the kill zone.  He knew by the time they arrived the killer would be gone.  More shots rang out.  More bodies fell.  The last one was going back to help a woman, a friend, a lover. The two died.  The paper would show next day that 12 had died.

Next day the police had no clue.

She long left the square and boarded a train.

He had his Glock 9 mm in the shoulder holster.  It had been easier to get it onto the train. The plane would have been faster but  there would have been more hoops to jump. He didn’t like chasing a sniper carrying only a Glock 9 mm but it was better than going unarmed. The way things were going in the west , only the criminals would be armed soon. They had their own weapons manufacturing and soon would be building bazookas.  Every Afghan village could produce an AK 47. Not much to it.  Modern weapons were getting deadlier but the tech to create them was getting more available.  3 d printing was even a stage further forward.

On the train the passengers about him were reading, sleeping or listening to iPods. He would have napped if he could but sleep evaded him. He was wearing a tan cordoroy jacket and jeans. He took a Toblerrone chocolate bar out of his jacket and had a generous piece.  

She’d got on the first plane out of the city.  The rifle was shipped by purolater, broken down into parts. Even if scanned, placed in a box with the right miscellaneous mechanical parts, no one would see the rifle parts.  She’d be able to observe the site where it was to go when she got there to assure her even more there was no concern. Right now she wanted to nap off the rush she’d just had.  Pulling her black tongue low over her eyes , she curled innto the window for a nap. She hardly noticed the plane take off.
Post a Comment