The Day - By Delinquent

A crisp ocean breeze worked through the towering buildings of San Paro and spread the scent of the spray through the air like an exotic perfume. The weather was the first break in a recent heat wave that had been ravaging the coastline of late. Even with nature’s good fortune, however, people still feared to poke their heads out of their homes. The gang wars had ravaged the streets and brought the city grinding to a halt. There was no semblance of commerce, no tourists roamed the waterfront, and those that lived in the city either were enforcers, criminals, or to poor to leave town. On this day, however, San Paro was quiet aside from the occasional gunshot or explosion. This was the day the gang war would be brought to an end.

A plaid blanket marked the grass where two figures quietly lay under the shade of an oak tree. The park in the market place had seen better days. The grass showed signs of the many times it had been used as a short cut during car chases. A gazebo at the far end of the park lay in a heap of broken wood and tile. It had collapsed several weeks ago as the various bullets that had torn into the wood columns finally caused too much damage for the structure to support itself. The couple lay beneath the only tree to remain standing in the park as the other trees could no longer stand tall against the many vehicles that had hammered against their trunks. But here, amid the destruction and shattered dreams, this man and woman laid in silence.

Her head rest in his lap with her body curled like that of an unborn child. A cloud lazily made its way across the sky as the man watched with eyes fixed. Fingers worked their way through the strands of blonde hair as the couple lay in silence. Slight resistance drew the man’s attention down to the woman in his lap. His lips creased down in a frown as he worked his fingers free from the blood soaked hair that was matted against her head. Pulling his hand free the man stared at the blood that stained his hand, sticky, cold, and thick. The woman had been dead for some time now, the bullet hole in her temple the cause of her condition. A faint whimper escaped the man as worked to clear the hair from the woman’s face.
“I failed you, Erin,” the man spoke as he looked back to the distant cloud, “As a father, as a friend, as a man, I failed you.”

Muffled shouts echoed around him as figures slinked around the edges of the man’s vision, “Ele was right. This was not the way.”

His hand slid to the grip of the N-Tec that lay beside him. Etched into the metal of the weapon was a word, Delinquent. The muffled shouts began to clear as the men that surrounded him belted orders for the man to release the weapon and surrender. Delinquent smirked as he lowered his eyes and took in the crowd. Military surrounded the two from a distance, taking caution of the known killer who sat in the open as though nothing was wrong.

“I made mistakes in my life,” Delinquent spoke in the direction of the crowd, though the words were meant for the woman in his lap, “I ignored Ele when she said not to look for my daughter. I should never have betrayed Dolly, or tried to kill her husband, and I should have never started this.”

A shrill noise drew his attention as a man flicked on a bullhorn, “Delinquent! This is Captain Sheppard of the United States Army! Release the weapon and place your hands on your head. We do not wish to bring more violence to this city!”
Delinquent looked down and smiled at Erin’s vacant face, I am sorry my dear, but I must show them once more why I am named as I am.

With speed born of necessity, Delinquent rose from the ground with the body of his daughter held tightly by his left arm. His right hand gripped the N-Tech and let loose a volley of bullets as he fought off those that sought to detain him. He knew there was no hope to escape, but surrender was not Delinquents way. If this was to be his last day then it would be spent going out as he came in. Fighting.

***

Captain Sheppard stood over the bodies with hands placed on his hips. The woman had been dead some time now, though her body was no longer recognizable from the many bullets that had torn through her as she performed her role as a shield. The bloody body of Delinquent lay beneath the woman, the last of the criminals in San Paro to be rounded up. The grass turned crimson from Delinquents wounds, the mud slurping at the boots of the soldiers that surrounded the area. Captain Sheppard did not care if Delinquent lived or died, the orders were only to retrieve the man and that job was now done.

Cold metal of the shackles pinched her exposed skin as she fought against the bonds. The muzzle covered her face, tightening around her jaw and leaving only her hate filled eyes visible. Dolly was tied to a chair in the back of a armored police vehicle and being prepared for transport. She worked through her muddled thoughts as she tried to remember how she got here. It had all happened so fast and was a blur in her mind. A memory flashed through Dolly’s mind, a vision of snuggling with Ian after a long night of love making. She remembered the cold air leaking through the holes in the shack walls and caressing their exposed flesh. Clothes lay in a jumbled pile on the floor nearby and their small arsenal of weapons leaned against the far wall. Dolly remembers the warmth of her lover’s arms around her. She remembers happiness.

Suddenly the memory fades and is replaced with another. The door to the shack hung on a single hinge as it allowed the elements to enter the room with all their might. Cracks spread through the dry rotted wood of the structure and expanded the holes that had been so insignificant before. Dolly was alone in this memory, but yet she was surrounded at the same time. Ian was missing, only blood remained of him in the room. Men, strong and angry, dressed in dark black outfits and carrying weapons surrounded her, shouting orders and sounding hostile. Then pain became the memory as the butt of a weapon knocked her to the ground. She remembers anger.

Dolly shook away these memories and looked out of the still open doors to the vehicle where she was being held. It appeared that the memory was not a distant one as she focused on the shack where she and Ian had taken refuge. Voices sneaked through the wind and made their way to her ear and Dolly strained to listen. Men, two of them, spoke in hushed tones, their words swept away by the wind and leaving her with only small bits to collect.

“… your help… Munich… immunity…” the first voice was familiar even through the broken pieces of the sentence and rush of the wind. Chris Walsaw’s voice was one she knew from years of running.

“…run San Paro… next… find him… me alone…” the second voice mixed in with the first. There was something there that she knew, but it was just out of tune and she could not focus.

More! She wanted to know more about those that would dare capture her and harm her Ian. There must be a way to bring them in, some way to play on the mind of Chris and bring the men to the van. A muffled scream was lodged in her throat as the muzzle prevented her from using her voice to the fullest. The metal of her bindings cut into her flesh as she struggled to free herself from them. It was luck, however, that brought the attention of the men as a button broke loose of her blouse as it had caught on the chain of the shackles.

Chris appeared first, stepping in front of the van and waiving off a member of the Interpol assault force. He smiled and ushered over the other man that Chris had been speaking with. Dolly had slowed her struggle when Chris appeared and waited with baited breath for the other man to show his face. Before her Chris, man that had spent so much time chasing her, smiled with pride as he pulled a cylinder from his pocket.

“Looks like my prize woke up,” Chris spoke as the other man stepped into the opening of the truck.

The light reflected off of the golden studs in scalp of this man. His hair had been freshly shaven to allow the studs to show to their fullest. Dolly would have recognized Delinquent anywhere and she stared in shock as she looked him over. A leather jacket wrapped around Delinquents shoulders to keep the winter chill at bay, though the Espresso Royale shirt could still be seen. As Dolly locked eyes with the man that had given her away at her wedding rage consumed her. How? Why? Not this man? He had been a father to her…

Again she fought the bindings with a new vigor. Blood trickled from her wrists as the metal sliced her skin but she did not notice. Immediate revenge was all she wanted and she would do anything to have it. Delinquent watched quietly for a moment with a somber face. Is he sad? Dolly caught herself thinking as she fought her bindings. Who gives a fuck if this bastard is sad!

Was this right, Delinquent thought as he watched Dolly struggle.

Delinquent turned back toward Chris with an outstretched hand, “She won’t be any good to you if she bleeds to death in here. Give me that.”

Chris handed over the small cylinder and Delinquent moved to the side of the woman. He kneeled at her side and whispered in a loving tone, “It is for the best, Double-D. Now sleep for me.”

He jammed the cylinder into the side of her neck, releasing the toxins that would slow her heart and allow her to slip into unconsciousness. Delinquent faded from her vision slowly as he stepped out of the vehicle. The last thing Dolly remembered seeing was Chris and Delinquent shaking hands as the doors closed. Her eyes followed suit shortly after.

Cold metal of the shackles pinched her exposed skin as she fought against the bonds. The muzzle covered her face, tightening around her jaw and leaving only her hate filled eyes visible. Dolly was tied to a chair in the back of a armored police vehicle and being prepared for transport. She worked through her muddled thoughts as she tried to remember how she got here. It had all happened so fast and was a blur in her mind. A memory flashed through Dolly’s mind, a vision of snuggling with Ian after a long night of love making. She remembered the cold air leaking through the holes in the shack walls and caressing their exposed flesh. Clothes lay in a jumbled pile on the floor nearby and their small arsenal of weapons leaned against the far wall. Dolly remembers the warmth of her lover’s arms around her. She remembers happiness.

Suddenly the memory fades and is replaced with another. The door to the shack hung on a single hinge as it allowed the elements to enter the room with all their might. Cracks spread through the dry rotted wood of the structure and expanded the holes that had been so insignificant before. Dolly was alone in this memory, but yet she was surrounded at the same time. Ian was missing, only blood remained of him in the room. Men, strong and angry, dressed in dark black outfits and carrying weapons surrounded her, shouting orders and sounding hostile. Then pain became the memory as the butt of a weapon knocked her to the ground. She remembers anger.

Dolly shook away these memories and looked out of the still open doors to the vehicle where she was being held. It appeared that the memory was not a distant one as she focused on the shack where she and Ian had taken refuge. Voices sneaked through the wind and made their way to her ear and Dolly strained to listen. Men, two of them, spoke in hushed tones, their words swept away by the wind and leaving her with only small bits to collect.

“… your help… Munich… immunity…” the first voice was familiar even through the broken pieces of the sentence and rush of the wind. Chris Walsaw’s voice was one she knew from years of running.

“…run San Paro… next… find him… me alone…” the second voice mixed in with the first. There was something there that she knew, but it was just out of tune and she could not focus.

More! She wanted to know more about those that would dare capture her and harm her Ian. There must be a way to bring them in, some way to play on the mind of Chris and bring the men to the van. A muffled scream was lodged in her throat as the muzzle prevented her from using her voice to the fullest. The metal of her bindings cut into her flesh as she struggled to free herself from them. It was luck, however, that brought the attention of the men as a button broke loose of her blouse as it had caught on the chain of the shackles.

Chris appeared first, stepping in front of the van and waiving off a member of the Interpol assault force. He smiled and ushered over the other man that Chris had been speaking with. Dolly had slowed her struggle when Chris appeared and waited with baited breath for the other man to show his face. Before her Chris, man that had spent so much time chasing her, smiled with pride as he pulled a cylinder from his pocket.

“Looks like my prize woke up,” Chris spoke as the other man stepped into the opening of the truck.

The light reflected off of the golden studs in scalp of this man. His hair had been freshly shaven to allow the studs to show to their fullest. Dolly would have recognized Delinquent anywhere and she stared in shock as she looked him over. A leather jacket wrapped around Delinquents shoulders to keep the winter chill at bay, though the Espresso Royale shirt could still be seen. As Dolly locked eyes with the man that had given her away at her wedding rage consumed her. How? Why? Not this man? He had been a father to her…

Again she fought the bindings with a new vigor. Blood trickled from her wrists as the metal sliced her skin but she did not notice. Immediate revenge was all she wanted and she would do anything to have it. Delinquent watched quietly for a moment with a somber face. Is he sad? Dolly caught herself thinking as she fought her bindings. Who gives a fuck if this bastard is sad!

Was this right, Delinquent thought as he watched Dolly struggle.

Delinquent turned back toward Chris with an outstretched hand, “She won’t be any good to you if she bleeds to death in here. Give me that.”

Chris handed over the small cylinder and Delinquent moved to the side of the woman. He kneeled at her side and whispered in a loving tone, “It is for the best, Double-D. Now sleep for me.”

He jammed the cylinder into the side of her neck, releasing the toxins that would slow her heart and allow her to slip into unconsciousness. Delinquent faded from her vision slowly as he stepped out of the vehicle. The last thing Dolly remembered seeing was Chris and Delinquent shaking hands as the doors closed. Her eyes followed suit shortly after.

A crowd had gathered on the steps of the old stone building located in the center of downtown San Paro. City Hall was abuzz with activity thanks to swirling rumors that the Mayor would make her first public appearance since lawlessness had embraced the city. Enforcers lined the streets and formed a roadblock in anticipation of a frontal assault on the building from the many criminals that crawled through the streets. Reporters spoke in hushed tones, curious about what announcement the mayor would make this time and how much more chaos it would bring to the citizens that called this place home. From the scaffolding of an office building far down the street an unknown spectator watched the crowd with mild interest. The scope on the Agrotech DMR-SD showed the worry on the reporters faces as clear as if the spectator stood amongst them. The enforcers were doing as normal, the spectator thought to himself, always looking for the obvious assault and never for the tactical one. With care the spectator slid the scope away from the crowd and along the grass of the park that led to the buildings steps. The magical eye shift slighty and brought the rifle into focus on the rooftops of a row of buildings west of the park. A man huddled on the rooftop, his black trench coat wrapped tightly around his body, the faded grey of a spray painted skull evident as he turned to retrieve an object that lay at his side. From an unseen bag the man pulled forth the sister to the spectator’s rifle, another Agrotec DMR-SD colored a flat black with a skull painted on the butt of the rifle to match his jacket. Dice, the spectator noted, always reliable in a pinch.

Shuffling slightly the spectator pushed back the hood that covered his head revealing the pristinely shaved head and golden studs that protrude from his skull. Delinquent had been planning this moment from the day that he first heard about the Mayors announcement. As Delinquent watched the crowd he felt like a kid on Christmas Eve, the presents taunting him as he waited for the next morning to come so he could open them. Across the park Dice lowered the ivory colored hockey mask over his face and lined his rifle up to take in the entirety of the crowd. The two men now waited for Santa Claus to come and leave their presents under the tree.

Jane Darren stepped out from City Hall and raised her hands as the crowd washed her with cheers and applause. The Mayor walked confidently to the podium that had been arranged at the base of the stairs and stood a moment, waiving to the reporters and onlookers that happened to wonder near the gathering. Jane spoke with confidence as she addressed the crowd, telling of the successes and failures that had come of the City Security Act and that it was now time to introduce yet another phase of the act to the city of San Paro.

“With the streets safer I can see that this City Security Act has worked to promote a cleaner, healthier, and friendlier San Paro. However, groups of criminals still continue to plague the streets in defiant gangs as they search for ways to wrestle control away from the Enforcers.”

Dice shifted uncomfortably as he watched the announcement. There was something about this woman and the tone of the speech that made the Russian hitman uncomfortable. He slithered closer to the edge of the building and glanced sidelong to the building where Delinquent rested. He knew that his comrade wanted to wait for a specific moment but Dice wondered if it was worth waiting for. What did Delinquent know about this speech that Dice did not?

Jane’s words brought Dice’s focus back to the speech before him as he settled back into his firing position, “While the project has been a success, gangs such as the Rain Dogs continue to plague this city and command pockets of the city. While we have detained their leader, Eleutherophobia, others have slipped through our fingers and prevented us from shutting them down. As a result of gangs like this I have decided to contact the military and enact Martial Law in San Paro! We will restore the order this city once had!”

Delinquent lifted a small mirror and flashed a signal to Dice. This was the moment that Del had been waiting for and the two men moved in synchronized motions to line up their shots. Their actions were swift and quiet, followed by two cracks that echoed loadly in the air. A wash of silence blanketed the air and a moment later Jane Darren collapsed to the ground. A mad howl of fear burst from the crowd as the enforcers rushed to the side of the mayor. The streets rapidly filled with panic while Delinquent and Dice quietly packed their rifles and left the rooftops. If the mayor wanted Martial Law then she was welcome to it… If she could manage to bring it from the afterlife.

The crackle and pop of the cigarette hacked at the silence as the cherry provided a orange glow to the dark walls of the building. Delinquent looked around the warehouse that he had converted to his home, taking in the collection of vehicles that filled the space. Tools lay scattered on the floor near his Dolton Montane, a puddle of fresh oil and radiator fluid oozing from beneath the engine block like an open wound. The mixture of fluids made their way into a drain nearby and disappeared into the floor below. Many of the other vehicles in the building resembled the battered pickup. Busted body panels, blown engines, collapsed suspensions and more. No longer was this a warehouse filled with pristine vehicles used for the various criminal activities of its owner, but instead a graveyard meant to hold the bodies of those that had served faithfully to the cause. With a final drag, Del dropped the cigarette to the floor and crushed the burning embers under his heal. The air echoed with each step as the tattooed man walked toward the lone operable vehicle, his Patriot Vegas. Inside sat a woman, her fingers wrapping against the door panel impatiently as she watched Delinquent through the side view mirror.

Peony bared a striking resemblance to her sister, Dolly. It was in her personality that the differences showed. Things had been unseasonably crazy since the Vice Mayor had taken control of San Paro and pushed through the order for Martial Law, the very order that Delinquent and Dice and tried to stop Mayor Jane Darren from acting on. It heightened Delinquents disappointment that they news man announced the Mayor would survive her wounds, though her return to office was still undetermined. The feisty bitch certainly had some fight in her, Delinquent thought when he had heard the news.

The door thunked with a metallic echo as Delinquent popped open the door to the Vegas and slipped into the vinyl covered driver seat. Something about this moment felt wrong. Here he was, about to leave San Paro forever and with none other than his best friends less than stable sister. Delinquent had wanted to flee before this, sure, but the opportunity never arose. It was difficult enough getting Navron safely onto the cruise ship, or finding a way to smuggle Dice into South America. Not all of his efforts were successful, however. Del’s hands squeezed the polished wood of the steering wheel as he remembered watching Tin Doctor collapse in the street, his body riddled with bullets from the soldiers that had taken control of the streets. Delinquent had brought the good Doctor into the Rain Dogs shortly before making the decision to take down the mayor. In that short time Tin Doctor had become a shadow to Delinquent, and Del had grown fond of Tin as a result. Now the Doctor was nothing more than a memory, his blood mixing with that of the many others that died trying to flee this god forsaken place.

“You do realize that sitting here, motionless, dwelling on the past is only going to get us caught, right?”

Peony’s voice was like a hammer as it shattered the screen in his head that showed the flickering images of the past. Del quietly turned his gaze to her and spoke in an even tone, “The past keeps us alive.”

Snorting, Peony leaned over and twisted the keys in the ignition, bringing the engine to life with a deafening roar, “No. Driving, that will keep us alive,” she planted a gentle kiss on the man’s cheek and smiled as her hand drifted between his legs, “As will the coke party that is in store for you after you finish my task.”

Coke… The snake had bit him again and the venom coursed through his veins. Was the offer of some white powder truly enough for Del to allow himself to be seduced in the bed of Dolly’s sister? As the Vegas slid out into the rain soaked streets of San Paro he pondered the events that had brought him to this moment. It had been two weeks since Del had watched Tin Doctor die in the streets. Apparently shooting the Mayor of the city was a very unpopular act and it had made Delinquent a popular target. Regrettably those around Delinquent would bear the burden of this decision and leave Delinquent to suffer. It was during that time that Peony had tracked Del down with the promise of a release from the problems of the city. All he had to do for her was to betray and surrender Dolly to the man that had been hunting her for so long, Chris Walsaw. She reassured Del that Peony wanted this done so that Dolly would be safe, protected from the mindless soldiers that patrolled the streets, safe from those that would hunt Dolly around the world. Secretly Peony wanted Dolly alone so that the deranged sister would not have to share Dolly with anyone. Not Del, not the Rain Dogs, not Ian. Peony loved her sister in a delusion and sexual way, a way that was well outside the realm of a normal sister’s love. Del resisted the requests and advances at first as he knew that Dolly could handle herself and that Ian was with her. The boy was brash, quick to act, and a bit reckless. This was just what Dolly needed to keep herself out of harm’s way.

Peony knew that Delinquent would not simply roll over on his friends, and so she worked her way into his life and eventually his bed. During the seduction Peony would slip drugs into Delinquents meals, one by one, until the desire for the powder grew too strong to resist. Once the snake bites, the venom destroys the mind and cleansing the body becomes nearly impossible. Now it was all he thought about, all that he cared about. Once he had gotten himself back onto that white horse he no longer cared who he hurt to get another taste, even if that meant going along with Peony and completing this task. Del looked sidelong at Peony as he pulled the car into fourth gear and found a nice cruising speed. Peony looked out the window at the glowing neon lights of downtown as they made their way toward the highway that would take them out of town. There was a moment of sadness on her face, and in that moment a glimpse of sanity. The moment was fleeting, however, as Peony turned her attention back to Delinquent.

The sadness washed away and the act returned, “Stop analyzing me and just drive, idiot.”

Delinquent returned his eyes to the road ahead. He knew this was wrong, that he should just stop the car and tell this woman to get out of his life. But he wanted to be on that horse again and she held the reins. Because of that Del did as he was told. He just shut up and drove right out of the city.

A chilled wind blustered and battered the walls of the small cabin making the windows rattle and the wood groan. The cabin had been built by a German family sometime before the First World War and had managed to survive through several generations to the present day. It was now owned by a quaint Jewish family who appreciated the solidarity that such a home provided out in the less populated places of Germany. Inside the building offered upgraded amenities and a subtle décor that indicated the father of the family was a supporter of the art of taxidermy. Devout in their religion the family took a yearly trip to Jerusalem to pray to their god and refresh their religious batteries. As a result the cabin was empty and silent.

The cabin should have been empty and alone, but the distinct moans of the woman inside trying to battle the wind for supremacy indicated otherwise. Each room of this home had seen a tour of duty between the two that had broken in and taken up residence here. It was a short stop during their honeymoon but the newlyweds felt it was justified since they have been having trouble getting outside since the day of the wedding. Rippling muscles coated in sweat arched before a window in the living room of the home, the short cut hair shuffled and unkempt on the man’s head and his sunglasses providing a mystique to his actions. Rhythmic thrusting was broken with the occasional twist of the recipient to keep things original and exciting. This evening would be a long and exciting one for these two, and the owners of the home would know nothing of the intruders or their sex-capades.

While the newlyweds were lost in their activities they were unaware to the world, not the wind outside, the stuffed animals in the home, the breeze blowing through the broken window pane they used to enter the home, or the man hiding in the hills outside watching the couple. Delinquent sat quietly in his perch watching through the scope of his DMR as he allowed Carlyle to pleasure his wife repeatedly. It had been several days since he had left San Paro at the prodding of Peony and it had taken a good amount of leg work to find the couple. Delinquent had traced a rental vehicle to a stolen credit card that had last been seen in San Paro. It was a blind clue, but Delinquent followed it and found the rental car parked at the foot of the driveway to this very home. Now he watched the two closest friends he ever had through the scope of a rifle as he thought about his own past. His wife, lost to him by his own hands, and the woman he pinned over during his time in San Paro now lying underneath the man she had chosen over Delinquent. All that Delinquent had loved, all that he wanted, had been taken from him by his own hands.

Delinquent lowered the rifle and pressed a button on the blue tooth headset, “Call Chris.”

The phone wrung a few times, raising Delinquents blood pressure and bringing about impatience and stress until, “Hello, Chris Walsaw. Can I help you?”

Delinquent lifted the rifle once more and regained his target, “I found them. Trace my signal and send units here. I will take care of Carlyle.”

One the other end of the line Walsaw acknowledged what was said but Delinquent never heard the words as he let the earpiece fall to the muddy ground. I will take care of Carlyle. The words echoed in his head as Delinquent thought about what he was going to do. Carlyle always had been a stubborn ass, a mule that bucked and fought against the tides of leadership in the Rain Dogs and played his cards in a bid for leadership. Delinquent liked that about Carlyle, though he never wanted to admit it as Del feared that it would give Carlyle the confidence he needed to actually wrest control from Ele. That was a game that was best left to professionals like Delinquent, and not for failed footballers that were never going to amount to anything.

At the end of the driveway a car pulled in, their lights abruptly darkened as they slid up the pavement toward that home. The occupants of the cottage were unaware of the presence of anyone at this moment as the couple continued to writhe about in ecstasy with their bodies intermingled in the throes of passion. Delinquent watched in silence as more vehicles appeared around the structure, figures cloaked in darkness slipping from them and surrounding the structure. Slowly Delinquent sucked in the air that would fill his lungs and held it within the prison of his body. Gently the scope lifted along the short wall of the cabin just as hands rose up along the curves of Carlyle’s muscular back. I’m sorry, kid.

The air jumped with the sound from the barrel and the gentle crunch of glass as the bullet passed through the window pane effortlessly. Blood sprayed across Dolly’s torso and face as the bullet continued on its path through the room, ending suddenly when it met the thick wood a cabinet in the kitchen. Fear and shock passed across her face as Dolly watched Carlyle scramble back, his hands clutching the hole in his chest and blood trickling down his chest and dripping from the head of his naked penis. The bullet had grazed the right lung and left a clean wound that Carlyle would survive. Rage mixed with adrenaline and allowed for an inhuman strength as Carlyle scooped up a nearby N-FAS that had helped him get into the home. Wood groaned in protest and splintered as the police that had been stationed outside the cabin burst into the home and rushed toward the naked man screaming traditionally warnings to freeze and get down!

Carlyle was not one for tradition and instead greeted the guests with blasts from the N-FAS. Pellets ripped through body armor, broke bones, and left wounds that no man would survive. More bodies entered the cabin, crashing through the windows and introducing gas into the chaos. Hands grabbed at his body, trying to rip the weapon from Carlyle’s hands and smearing the blood across his body like a barbarian. Carlyle roared in protest as he fought against the hands that held him, but confusion followed as the hands went limp and the policeman fell to the ground limp. Delinquent lay on the hill watching the chaos through the scope on the rifle and was disgusted with himself.

Crack! Crack! Crack!

Carlyle took the moment and rushed out into the open air, planting the barrel of the shotgun into the stomach of an unsuspecting attacker, the blast making powder out of a chunk of spine. Carlyle looked back and saw that the cabin had now filled with the gas that had been fired on them. Screams come from the cabin, female screams, Dolly’s screams. Carlyle had failed to protect her through his rage and the realization nearly killed the man.

Run, you fucking idiot! I’ll make sure she is safe.

The plight was too much for him and Carlyle knew the only way to rescue the woman he loved was to retreat and get his wounds cared for. Delinquent moved from the hill as Carlyle hotwired the squad car. The two crossed paths as the car bounced over the rough texture of the driveway and Delinquent slid from the woods onto the hard pavement. Driver and assassin met eyes and in that moment Delinquent knew that he had lost a friend forever. The words of Walsaw up the drive shouting Delinquents name snapped him back into reality as Del run up the path to unit with the policemen. Carlyle sped off into the fields of Germany and looked into the rearview mirror of the squad car. Eyes stared back at him, but they were not his own. Instead Delinquent stared back at Carlyle. The rearview mirror shattered as it landed with an ungracious thunk on the hard pavement, the taillights of the departing squad car reflecting in the shattered bits of mirror.