That night after Brie and David put the kids to bed, they sat up for a little while and talked with Fuzz. Brie brought both of the men beers and curled up on the couch next to David. Fuzz looked at them as he took a sip of his beer. “You’re not going to drink, Brie?”
She shook her head. “It’s a very rare occasion when I drink, Fuzz. I have to be in the mood for alcohol.”
He nodded. “Ok, so, I’m curious. How the hell did you two meet?”
David looked at his wife. “You wanna tell that story? You tell it better than I do.”
She smiled. “Sure, honey.” She looked at Fuzz. “I’m a massage therapist by profession. Before I met
David, I did a lot of charity events and stuff like that. He just happened to be at one of the events I was working. I was taking a break, getting some water or something like that, and we both spotted each other from across this crowded event ground. He came over to where I had my booth set up and we got to talking. By the end of the event, he asked me out. The rest, as they say, is history. We got married, we have seven children together, and we’ve been together for about eight years now.”
“You do massages?” Fuzz asked her. She nodded. He looked at David. “You’re one lucky son of a bitch, man. She’s beautiful, good with her hands, and loves you with everything she’s got. God only knows why.”
David looked at the angel sitting next to him. “Yeah, I’m pretty lucky. For a while I wondered when my luck was going to run out, then she told me she was pregnant for the first time. I’d just adopted Malachai. She came home, scared out of her mind that I’d freak out and told me that she was pregnant. I, of course, was shocked at first, but it quickly faded into elation. Nine months later, she gave me Jordan and Jacob.”
“Jordan is a mean little shit”, Fuzz said.
“David says that Malachai is his mini me. Well, Jordan is mine. She’s a smart ass and she doesn’t keep her mouth shut for anything. If she thinks it, it usually comes out of her mouth. I’ve become a little more tactful through the years, but Jordan is the spitting image of me when I was her age. Attitude and all.”
“You must have been a mean child too, Brie.”
“Not to hear my parents tell it.”
“And what do your parents say?”
“They used to say that I was just opinionated. I told the rabbi when I was a little girl that the way he interpreted the Torah was not only wrong, but retarded.”
David laughed. “I wish my in laws were still alive so that I could hear that story.”
“Ask Matt about it sometime.”
“I fully intend to.”
Fuzz laughed. “Who’s Matt?”
“Remember the man you said he was supposed to be dead?” David asked.
“Yeah. What about him?”
“He’s my brother, Fuzz”, Brie told him.
“Oh. That’s interesting.”
“How is it interesting?”
“He doesn’t seem like the brotherly type.”
“Were you not paying attention when he stopped at the door before he left and asked me to give the kids his
love?” David scolded.
“Oh, yeah. Sorry, I was a little preoccupied with the fact that he’d just threatened to shoot me.”
“If it weren’t for the fact that you had information on the Commandant, I probably would have beaten him to it”, David said. The look in his eyes told Fuzz that it was no lie.
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He knew exactly where to go. The man that was his target had been his mentor for years. He knew the
man’s every move. Every night, at the same time, his target went to one certain restaurant and ate an expensive dinner. When he came out to go home is when the gunman would take his shot.
He didn’t have to wait very long. His target came out of the restaurant at the exact same time he always did. The sniper lined up his shot. His target would never see it coming. As his car pulled up the sniper, who was poised on an adjacent building, sucked in a steadying breath and squeezed the trigger, catching his target right between the eyes.
He looked at the fallen man, his former mentor and friend, with a cold look in his eyes. “And so the traitor falls”, the sniper said, his voice just as cold as his eyes. Though it was freezing cold outside, the sniper didn’t feel it’s bite. He had become what he’d feared most about taking the job he did when he went into the Corps. He’d become a monster, a soulless sociopath. And, to tell the truth, he’d kind of liked the feeling.
He packed up his rifle and left the building he was on top of, pulling a phone from the cargo pocket of his uniform after trashing the gulley suit. “The job is done, Director.”
“Good work, Master Guns. Destroy what evidence you can and come on home.”
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