Mel sighed and wiped the knife clean. She’d gone to the meet without guns, as agreed, only to find that he’d reneged on the deal. So, ‘twas lucky she’d not been totally naive. She was sighing, nevertheless, for his killing brought to an end months of one step forward, two steps back negotiations. Maybe if she’d allowed herself to be sacrificed, to be the dead body instead of him, her team would now have the upper hand and they’d be able to drive forward the peace plans. Sure, he’d been carrying a gun – even if he was a lousy shot – but they’d just say she’d planted the gun, despite knowing different. It was all a mess, just one bloody frustration after another.
Her shoulder burned where his bullet had nicked it, her quick reactions having saved her once again. It needed to be cleaned up, but she wanted to get home quickly to Matt. She’d promised she wouldn’t be gone long and he was only five, so time was still a tricky concept for him.
They really had to stop this nonsense before he grew up and was forced to change sides. She’d not be able to bear losing her only son.
©Debra Carey 2017