In The Light Of A Shadow
“I’m going away for awhile daddy.” Jessica said to the headstone of her beloved father. Her mournful eyes stared down at his final resting-place, hoping he could still talk to her, guide her. The tears started, so she reached into her inside jacket pocket, grabbing her sunglasses, one hand accidentally bumping one of the two Beretta 92C’s in her shoulder holster. Putting the glasses on helped, but Jessica didn’t know why. “No I don’t know when I’ll be back.” She laughed, rubbing the residue of fallen tears from her eyes. “It won’t be for a long while.” The wind blew, whipping her shoulder length brown hair around, which she gently tucked back behind her ears. It may have been her imagination, but as she sat there listening to the wind blow the leaves around the old empty cemetery, she could swear it carried the voice of her father. Why? He asked. Jessica was only too glad to answer and get it off her chest. “Gelati’s got a hit out on me and it’s too dangerous for me to stay in town, and he’s got too much muscle for me to try and take down by myself.” The tears threatened to come again. “I know you told me not to get involved Daddy, but it was the only thing I had left.” She could hear her father’s voice again. C’mon Jessy, you know that’s not true. She argued. “Yes it is Daddy! I wanted to follow in your footsteps…to have some part of you left for me.” But to be a killer Jessy? She laughed again. “It’s what we do best Daddy. You taught me everything I know.” The wind blew around with increased ferocity at that statement. I also taught you that killing was wrong Jessica. She bowed her head. “I know Daddy, I know. I just….you were right.” The wind decreased its chilling assault. “Fine time for me to realize that.” Jessica said, laughing again and bending down to brush the leaves away from her father’s headstone. She read the words engraved in stone for the millionth time: Here Lies Donald James Wentling, Loving Father and Beloved Friend. Her father’s voice carried in the wind again. What do you mean sweetheart? “Well I finally realized that killing people is wrong Daddy. Actually I’ve always known, but I never let it get to me. In our profession you can’t afford to.” The leaves began to swirl around her; Jessica tucked her hair behind her ears again as it fell into her eyes. “But that last job…It was horrible…I just couldn’t bring myself to do it anymore.” Jessica fought back a shiver, but from memory and not from the cold. What happened Jessy? Her father asked. “The job was to do some punk that Gelati found out was snitching to the cops about his organization. No big deal. Gelati sent me and Berlett to do the job, Monday night.” The wind picked up again as Jessica relayed her story to her dead father. Her face hardened, taking on that grim look that made her seem so intimidating. That look, one that her father often wore, combined with the dark sunglasses was enough to cause people to wet their pants when they saw her coming. Everyone knows that in spite of her size, Jessica Wentling was just as good a killer as her father. Despite her 5’0” height and small frame that was maybe 115 pounds, soaking wet. Still if you saw her coming, it was best to get out of her way. Her angelic face-hardened even more remembering the incident. “We went downtown to his apartment at about 10 o’clock that night. The streets were dark.” She shook off her guilt. “We busted in the door, startled the poor bastard and I shot him, point blank, in the head.” The wind blew harder. “We didn’t see the woman…till his blood was splattered all over her face.” She paused. “I froze but Berlett was…he shot her in the face, right through her eye. He shot her kid too. Little guy was in bed with them, couldn’t have been more than two.” Her voice cracked. “Berlett shot them both…it was too much Daddy…I had to get out!” she sobbed. “He just turned and walked away…no feeling at all.” Another pause. “The next day I told Gelati I wanted out. I figured he’d understand….he didn’t.” The wind’s ferocity was so forceful now, her hair and even her leather jacket whipped about, exposing her guns and utility belt. Her father’s voice was angry. What did he do Jessica? He asked, the wind quieted as she began to speak. “He sent Berlett after me last night.” Her face-hardened again as she regained her composure, remembering the recent incident. “He broke into to my apartment, but I was ready.” A pause “He won’t bother me anymore Daddy.” From across the cemetery, a lone figure stepped onto the roof of the nearby chapel, a sniper rifle in her hands. Her nearly platinum blond hair blowing in the wind, she walked, cold, calculating and beautiful across the rooftop. Albeit, with difficulty due to the forceful wind and slope of the roof. At the edge she lay down on the roof of the significantly large gothic cathedral on an old woolen blanket she’s brought with her. Flipping the cap off the scope, she shouldered her H&K PSG-1, an elegant weapon for a sniper. She adjusted the scope on the rifle, bringing her target, Miss Wentling, into focus from 400 yards away. Her back was to the church; “So unprofessional,” the blond thought. “Keeping her back to an obvious tactical position.” A smile crossed her lips as she aimed the rifle without taking her black sunglasses off. This job was supposed to be hard…but Wentling was making it easy for her. Gelati, she knew, would be pleased, and he would pay through the nose. She decided to use her laser dot instead for a bit of sport, to test her skill. Tapping the switch the switch on the PSG-1, the laser dot activated, coming to rest on Jessica’s left calf muscle. The blond considered blowing out Wentling’s knees, but reconsidered and began slowly, almost lovingly , moving the laser dot up Jessica’s body. From her legs to her well-shaped buttocks, the blond noticed with more than a little jealousy. “You always did have a better body than I did Jess.” She said as though Jessica could hear her. The laser dot continued the short trip up Wentling’s body, slowly and carefully, it’s final destination: the back of her target’s head. “I hate to shoot you in the back Jess,” the blond began, “but you brought this on yourself.” And she meant it. Shooting someone in the back was so…dishonorable. Still one can’t afford such luxuries in this profession. The laser dot traveled the length of Jessica’s back, going over her black leather jacket and past her neck, the red contrasting against Jessica’s fair skin, the blond noticed. “Like mine.” She thought. Reaching her final destination, the blond stopped the movement of the rifle and steadied it on the back of Jessica’s head. “Goodbye, J…” she said easing her finger inside the trigger guard. She began to squeeze the trigger. Slowly, purposefully, trying not to miss the shot. A quarter of the way…half…she was three-quarters of the way there when the sound of multiple motorcycle engines broke her concentration. Jessica turned to the sound, the blond trying to compensate…too late—she fired, in spite of herself, the shot going wide just grazing Jessica’s shoulder. The motorcycle engines had startled Jessica and the bullet that tore her shoulder, had gotten her moving. The fact that her $250 leather jacket was ruined was a small issue compared to the realization that someone was sniping at her. She dived over her father’s headstone and hid herself behind it, pulling her the jacket off her shoulder to examine her wound. It was cut, but not too deep, and the blood wasn’t gushing. She tested her shoulder. It hurt like a sonuva bitch, but it was pain she could ignore, she’d felt worse. The engines got louder, closer, the sniper took another shot at her chipping off a piece of the headstone. Jessica turned her head from the spraying limestone debris, reaching into her shoulder holster to pull her two Berettas, the stainless steel pistols a comforting weight in her hands. Jessica wanted to escape, she looked to her left to her own motorcycle not 15 feet away, but 15 feet is a long distance if you’ve got a sniper shooting at you. All of a sudden her motorcycle jerked as if stuck, then again and again. The tires deflated, and Jessica realized the sniper had the same idea she had and was cutting off her mode of escape. She used the diversion to peek out and get a feel for her position and found it fairly quickly, partially suspecting the roof of the church or inside it. She looked up at the roof of the cathedral, scanning, following the red dot to… “Skye.” Jessica said, noticing the nearly platinum blond hair blowing in the wind atop the church. “Fuck.” Skye was good, Jessica knew. They thought alike, and operated similarly, often competing for assignments for Gelati. She looked back at her bike. Skye had stopped shooting and the red dot seemed to be moving toward the seat of her bike…. Jessica got up and ran, knowing Skye’s plan, she sprinted, guns in hand, towards a nearby tomb. Arms pumping for speed, she got within 5 feet and dived, hearing the climactic shot behind her. The bullet connecting with the motorcycle’s gas tank caused it to explode. It flew apart in a million different directions, and sent a fireball straight up into the sky. Jessica felt the intense heat and pressure as she dived behind the tomb, narrowly missing being pelted by flaming parts and metal shrapnel from the explosion. She stood up, with her back to the wall, breathing hard, feeling the adrenaline flow, her battle instincts beginning to kick in. And just in time as 4 black leather garbed bikers on black Kawasaki Ninjas sped onto the scene, lured by the explosion. Jessica peered around the tomb, out of the sniper’s line of fire, to look at them. They examined the wreckage as she examined them, the acrid smell of burning fuel in the air. They were armed with H&K MP5Ks. “Good choice.” She thought as she watched all but one get off their motorcycles and begin to search the area, fanning out. 2 large black Suburbans drove up the nearby road and more goons got out, making a total of 12. Jessica gripped her Berettas tighter. “What the fuck?” wondered Skye out loud as the motorcycles and Suburbans drove onto the scene. They were Gelati’s men she knew, but what were they doing here. She looked through her sniper scope and saw Gelati himself sitting in the back seat of the second Suburban. She reached into her pocket and pulled out her cell phone dialing the number to his. The phone rang once. “What the fuck are you doin Gelati?” “Skye?” “You goddamn right Skye.” She said, her tone menacing. “Listen to me little girl.” His Italian accent coming through in his anger. “You better hold your tongue. It is not that kinda day.” Skye didn’t care. “Let me repeat myself. What are you doing here?” “Doing your job Blondie, I get word that Berlett is dead this morning and that Wentling is still alive, and that she’s on her way to the cemetery. She should’ve been a memory like her father, before dawn.” “She was ready for Berlett.” Skye argued heatedly. “I had to catch her off guard.” “Well now my men have caught her off guard. And we’ll do it my way. It’s no longer your problem.” He began to hang up and then said: “And if you ever talk with such disrespect again, YOU will be my problem.” He clicked off on her, leaving her smoldering. She went back to the roof’s entrance and opened the door angrily, as shots began to come from below. She heard screams and went back to the edge. Jessica had taken down several men and was covered hiding behind the tomb she had escaped to earlier. Skye smiled, Jessica was almost as good as she, but Gelati’s men would force her out of that hiding place, and there would only be one place left to go. Smiling, Skye went back to the roof’s entrance and walked down the stairs to wait in the chapel for Jessica to show up. Jessica hated being forced into this position, to kill again, when all she wanted was for the killing to stop. She looked at the clouded gray sky, silently talking to her father. “I’m sorry Daddy, I tried.” A single tear rolled down her cheek. Then amazingly she did hear her father’s voice. “I know honey. Now do what you have to do.” There was no time to worry about whether she was crazy or not, or whether she had actually heard her father’s voice. All that mattered was that in those few words, he had given her the will to do what had to be done. Her face hardened, she wiped the tear from her cheek. Setting her jaw, she cocked the two hammers on her Berettas and turned to give Gelati her final resignation. Brian Finn had heard what he thought to be the sound of guns being cocked from behind the tomb 10 feet away from him. Pointing with his H&K, he signaled to his partner to flank the opposite left side. He took point, walking slowly trying desperately not to make a sound. Finn didn’t mind admitting that he was scared, even if he was hunting a girl; he’d heard stories about Miss Wentling. They didn’t call her the “Goddess of War” for nothing. She might only be 5’0” tall but she was a badass in every sense of the term. On the other hand, if her were the one to pop her, he’d score major bragging rights with the guys and maybe Gelati would finally make him an enforcer… Visions of Jessica Wentling’s head on his trophy wall danced in his mind as he signaled for his partner to flank her from the opposite side. The next second she came around the tomb with two guns raised at Brian. He froze. She looked him in the eye though her dark sunglasses kept him from seeing hers. “Hi!” was all she said before opening fire, shooting Brian 6 times in the gut. His blood bursting from his body as the bullets penetrated him, acting as if they were setting off mini explosions in his chest. She kept firing though, walking toward Brian rapidly pulling the triggers. Brian walked backward screaming involuntarily, though he was pretty much dead on his feet. Finally after emptying 20 rounds into his torso, the guns clicked dry and Brian’s corpse collapsed to the ground. Jessica ejected both clips and shoved the guns into her holster, hearing rapid footsteps behind her. She rolled picking up Brian’s H&K on the fly, hearing one being fried behind her, the bullets tearing up the ground where she’d stood not 2 seconds ago. With effort, she turned the roll into a crouch, pointing the H&K at Brian’s partner before he could get her in his sights again. She pulled the heavy trigger and held it down, letting the gunfire on fully automatic, and the recoil of the submachine gun not affecting her deadly aim as she held the gun with just one hand. The force of the bullets tore through the goon’s body, most of them puncturing through bone and vital organs continuing their trip through the entire body exploding outward spraying blood and throwing him to the ground in a heap. Out of the corner of her eye, someone running up a nearby hill. Jessica turned and decimated him with the remainder of the last of the clip, watching his blood coat the leaves, grass and nearby headstones. Dropping the H&K, Jessica spun back to the nearby tomb wall as another of the two bikers came up the hill after the other goon she’d wasted and opened fire; the thunderous rapid cry of an H&K once again echoing throughout the cemetery. He fired again as she hid, ripping particles of stone from the tomb. Jessica pulled her Berettas and reloaded, putting one back to save ammo and make her shots count. Ignoring caution, Jessica stepped out into the kill zone and fired a single shot to the head of the goon 50 yards away, the Beretta jumping lightly in her expert hands. It was a helluva shot, and before the body had fully slumped to the ground, she took off, sprinting toward one of the goon’s motorcycle 30 yards away. She knew that the tomb would keep her out of the line of fire of some of the goons, but she heard the rest coming due to her recent exchange of bullets with her former employer’s men. The throaty howl of another motorcycle engine erupted from beyond the hill. Jessica didn’t stop, she just kept ran, closing the distance between herself and the Kawasaki. Arms pumping, legs driving, she could feel the adrenaline flow through her veins. She focused all her energy toward running, and suddenly got a burst in speed. The sound of the engine was louder…closer. The last rider of the motorcycle squad came flying over the hill, still riding his Kawasaki. Jessica saw him flying straight toward her and dived, just barely, out of the way. She landed painfully on her side and skidded to a stop, but held onto her gun. She’d drawn a bead on the guy as soon as he’d come over the hill and before her eyes had refocused from her head connecting with the ground; before the guy on the motorcycle had firmly landed; before she even slid to a stop...she already had the gun pointed in his direction. The goon on the bike hit the ground hard gripping his brakes for all he was worth and swinging his bike around to face the opposite direction, tearing up clumps of dirt and cracking one of the headstones with the back of his bike. Jessica looked at her opponent through blurred vision. She could hear him gunning the engine of the sports bike. The cocky bastard wanted to make a show of finishing her off, but Jessica had other plans. She cocked the hammer on her 92C, taking aim through the blurriness, ignoring the headache, the body aches, and the ringing in her ears. Again she focused all of her energy into that one task, gripping the Beretta tighter… It all happened in an instant, Jessica’s eyes refocused just as the motorcycle goon stopped gunning his engine and slammed on the throttle, speeding toward her and kicking up large quantities of dirt. He took off; Jessica aimed. He came forward at 30 mph, she concentrated. He got within range, Jessica fired one quick shot, expertly squeezing the trigger. Jessica wished she could’ve seen the look of surprise on the goon’s face but unfortunately, she wasn’t allowed the pleasure due to his wearing of a helmet. What she did see was the result of her flawless shot to the goon’s gas tank (showing that no good idea ever dies) triggering an explosion that sent the goon flying from his motorcycle as a flaming, screaming mass of flesh into a tree some 20 yards behind Jessica. He connected with a bone jarring snap-crunch, and lay on the ground screaming in agony. Jessica smiled briefly, picking herself up off the ground. She put her sunglasses back on (they’d come off in her fall), and made tracks for the nearby cycle. She couldn’t hear, but she knew the rest of the goons were on her ass, so she didn’t dare stop running. She felt blood coming out of her ears, and her skin like she’s gotten some kind of huge full body sunburn from the explosion. But she didn’t regret her decision even if it left her with muted hearing. Reaching the motorcycle, Jessica crouched, just as several bullets streaked overhead, the muted sound of an H&K barely audible in her ears. Squatting behind a nearby gravestone, she turned and started providing her own cover fire, shooting at the goon who had shot at her. She could hear her own thunderous shots as she occasionally squeezed the trigger, searching the motorcycle’s lock box for keys. Finding them, she covered herself for the last time, firing three rounds behind her, wounding a goon foolishly trying to hide behind a bush. Immediately thereafter, Jessica jumped on the motorcycle and jammed the keys in the ignition. She twisted it and the cycle sprang to life, roaring to life, roaring loudly. She slammed the throttle and the cycle took off tearing up the dirt around her. The goons came from behind their hiding spaces and all out opened fire on her. Jessica raced through the cemetery on the Kawasaki, hearing the bullets tear up the scenery, as well as feeling the dirt and debris as she rode past. “A little too close for comfort.” She thought. Finally she careened onto the road where the two Suburbans were parked, screeching to a stop while she contemplated her next move. She eyed the Suburban closely. Then looked back at the steed she was already riding. “The lady or the tiger?” she asked aloud. She almost didn’t notice Gelati until it was too late. She whirled, swinging her leg up and over the cycle and pulling her Beretta at the same time. Her leg connected with Gelati’s fat round face and sent him sprawling to the ground. Pointing her gun at Gelati’s head, she looked down at the man she had once called her second father, her face an unreadable mask. Gelati’s eyes were wide open in fear. “Don’t do it Jessy please!” he begged. “Why not?” she asked, her face still unreadable. “You were going to kill me, YOU SENT THOSE MEN TO KILL ME GELATI!” her mask didn’t crack as she yelled at him, but Gelati could see the tear streaming down her face. “You understand Jessy, it was business eh?” he scrambled. “How would it look if I just let any of my enforcers quit on me huh? How would it look?!” “I don’t care.” She steadied her gun hand. “Consider this my final resignation.” She said and pulled the trigger, the gun sliding forward with a dry snap-click…empty. She tucked the empty gun in her waistband and got back on the still humming cycle. “You owe me Gelati.” Was all she said. The goons finally made their way out of the cemetery. They saw Gelati on the ground and pointed their guns at her. Jessica swung her bike around and hit the throttle, flying forward toward the exit. She heard no shots and cast a look back to see Gelati yelling at his men. She knew that he really couldn’t be trusted and would probably still come after her, because deep down he had no honor. Still she hoped it was over, and as she felt the soft rain begin to fall, she knew that these were not drops of rain pelting her from above, but the tears of happiness from a father who only wanted what was best for his daughter. Jessica smiled and rode her Kawasaki into the horizon, her destination: anywhere but here. End Part 1.
Copyright © 2001 Robert G Hagans |