Chapter 23

Our side trip into domestic bliss lasted exactly one day. Then all Hell broke loose.

The girls were home in time for a supper that I had prepared and we were just sitting down to eat when automatic gunfire interrupted everything. Glass exploded all around us, as machine gun blasts took out every window in the front of the house, as I grabbed both gal and dove on top of them, under the table, then I kicked the table over to use it as a shield.

The shooting was coming from two sides of the house, and my Glock was in the bedroom, in my bag, so I hustled to get it, and came back shooting towards the muzzle flashes. Roberta called in for help, and Fran tried to call the court for more help, but couldn't get through after hours.

Between the chewed up paneling, blasted out windows, and destruction of their personal property, I was certain Fran and Roberta would lose everything they owned, besides being killed in the attack. That thought made me furious, and I charged the front window, shooting at anything that moved.

My quarry might have been brave, but they sucked at close quarters shooting, and using machine guns made their shots fly up, and to the right, so as long as I stayed down and to the left, I felt like I had a chance to do some damage. One not-so-bright terrorist charged the front window and I sent him to his seventy-two virgins without much of a face. He was probably ugly to begin with, but now he was downright hideous.

I felt pain from my earlier injuries and concentrated on avoiding new ones. My challenge was in keeping the attackers focused on me, to keep them from focusing on Fran and Roberta. It should have been easy, except that Roberta showed up next to me with her own set of guns, and an attitude.

God help those jerks, because Roberta wasn't going to be merciful. Murder was in her eyes. She pointed right and moved that way, snapping off a couple of shots to keep their heads down, as I shimmied left and took two more down. I had to pause and reload, which made three more of them feel very brave, suddenly.

Then they stopped feeling brave because I put holes in them as they approached the ruined front door. By then I thought I had put down five, but it could have been four, and when Roberta nailed one trying to use the cedar bush as cover, it broke their attack.

I had no mercy left in me. I deliberately shot them in the back as they ran away.

Screw them.

Dead terrorists don't come back. Live ones live to fight another day. I like them dead.

It was suddenly silent, except for the screams and moans of the wounded. I carefully reconnoitered and removed weapons from the dead and living, then asked Roberta to being me a six pack of Coke. I just KNEW it would stimulate their memory about who, what, when, where, how many, and why.

It worked out pretty good until the cavalry showed up. I had several useful bits of information to turn over to Roberta, when I finally stopped burning their nasal passages with sweetened carbonic acid. Roberta was duly impressed.

She said so.

Of course it was much later and we were all three intertwined in a strange bed, in a lovely hotel, and she didn't specifically mention my Coke trick, but she WAS duly impressed, and said so.

So...

There you go.

We spent hours debriefing. Roberta simply said she and Fran invited me for dinner, and the attackers must have followed her from her office, downtown. Fran gave away nothing personal, and agreed that she and Roberta had me over for dinner.

We were booked into three connecting rooms, and using only the middle one, for privacy's sake. They were insatiable following our close call with ISIS, and the adrenaline rush that followed. Fran was having trouble with the sudden deaths the prisoners suffered after being 'Coked.' She wondered if they wouldn't have been more valuable after extensive questioning.

"Fran," Roberta said, seriously. "They had nothing left to tell, when David finally stopped shooting Coke up their noses. You heard them screaming in agony. It had to be the worst pain they could imagine, because they gave up their safe houses, their training bases, and where the money came from.

"David was far too emotional to control himself, and when they kept saying they would send more terrorists to rape us, and kill him, he hit them too hard, and they died. That's all there is to it."

Fran was unconvinced. "I'm a FEDERAL JUDGE! I don't go around excusing murder – at least I haven't before tonight. Maybe they got what they needed, when I stop to think about what they've done to you both, and me - especially David.