Andrios's appearance further eased tension and soon all three were discussing the task
at hand. The following day all three went to a secluded spot were Christina was able to
take a little target practice. Myra, satisfied at her performance, decided that they would
take Andrios's Land Rover early next morning to a point near where SOKFFAL were known to
be.
Myra awoke with the tingling mix of fear and excitment within her. She quickly dressed and
opend the safe. Noting, with not a little satisfaction, a fat wad of used notes, which she
assumed to be the agreed pay off with the Old Cow, she removed the two factory fresh Uzis.
Before removing them from the protective plastic, she pulled on her Gall's gloves. Making
sure that Christina was still asleep, she held the gun she had decided would be hers and
gently caressed it and her mind wandered back to an Essex Christmas that seemed so long
ago... She put on her gun belt and after ramming a silver 9mm into the holster, snapped
the strap over the gun. She carefully checked her .22 and put it in the rear of her
waistband. Having put on her jacket she put her back up gun in the inside holster and then
half zipped the jacket. She taped an extra clip to the Uzi's magazine. Finally, she
slipped the flick knife inside her right boot. Lighting the second cigarette of the day,
she held the machine pistol upright in her left hand and patted the palm of her right
against the butt of her 9mm. She had a niggling feeling that she was not quite complete,
that she had forgot something and yet... she looking in the mirror and she liked what she
saw-Watch Yourself indeed. Shit, being a copper was alright. Time to wake Christina up.
In the bitter cold half light of the morning, Myra and Christina left the Land Rover and
made their way over the rocky terrain until they saw a lookout posted. He was an elderly
man, nearly sixty. He sat on a large rock, bundled up against the cold, an old Lee Enfield
.303 rifle proped by his side. Myra reached for her silencer, only to discover, to her
horror, she had left it behind. "Shit-whot the fuck do we do now?" she hissed as
she turned to Christina. "Hey, you're the boss, don't look at me." came the
reply. "Why don't you use that knife you got in your boot?" "Naw, naw I
ain't doin' that...that's nasty" Myra countered . Christina held out her hand and
Myra gave her the knife. "We've come this far...I don't think I could do it
over" was all Christina said as she crept down to where the lone man sat.
As she approached to was obvious the man was asleep. She positioned herself in front of
him and stood stock still. In less than a minute, a white glint appeared as he opened his
eyes. In a split second he jolted with shock, but it was already too late. Christina
covered his mouth with her left hand as she plunged the knife repeatedly into his upright
body. He was quite dead. She eased the lifeless body to the ground and motioned Myra to
come down. She wiped the knife's blade of the man's old jacket, folded it and handed back
to Myra. Myra held up her hand and shook her head. "Na, na na" was all Myra
managed to say. "You keep it darlin'. I really owe you." Christina smiled.
"I know" was all she said.
The two women hid just in front of the large hut which, accordingly to Andrios's
information, served as SOKFFAL headquarters. As it grew to almost daylight, it was
ovibious that people where moving around inside, lights coming on, the smell of cooking,
the sound of muted conversations. Presently, a man emerged from inside. Lighting a
cigarette, he paced the building's rough porch, every now and then stopping and listening.
After what seemed an eternity, he went back inside. Myra looked at Christina. Myra
realised the time had come. Both women made sure the strap of their holster was undone and
the saftey was off. Then they did the same for the Uzi they both carried. Myra looked at
Christina and both of them moved silently off. They crouched as they climbed onto the
porch, there was tension in every step as they made their way along it, hoping that it's
creaking would not give them away. Myra was by the door and motioned Chritina to stop.
Springing up Myra kicked in the door and leveled the Uzi...she couldn't believe her
luck...the hut occupants all sat at a table.
From inside the building, the door burst open and there stood a black figure, backlite by
the rising sun it's light reflected off the silloutte of her tight leather, her blond hair
holding it's rays almost like a halo. Already Myra's dry mouth, quicken heart rate and wet
panties indicated her excited state. Her grasp on the gun tightened, her tight gloves
giving the appearance of her hands being dipped in black gloss paint. She bit her lower
lip as she squeezed the trigger...and as always a few seconds slowed to the pace of
treacle...
A bright flower of orange-red flame bloomed at the gun's muzzle. By it's deathly light a
flicker-book like picture of death was painted. As Myra swung the gun from right to left
she was able to study the face and reaction of each of her victims. Shock, rage and fear
appeared on the different faces. One man, quite unable to cope with this dreadful
realitity, simply put hands up to his face, not wishing to see. Myra watched four bullets
thud into the backs of his hands, then observed his body tumble backward to the floor.
Another man made a futile grab for a rifle that lay against the table, but two bullets in
the neck sent him crashing to the floor also. A woman well over sixty began to make the
sign of the cross, but Myra's savage burst of fire prevented her from completing this last
act. A middle-aged man punched his fist into the table, four rounds into the chest
catapulting him into the wall at the rear of the table. As Myra began to swing the weapon
left to right, there was no one left to aim at. Still in a frenzi of excitment, the big
blond continued until the gun's bolt made a loud click. Her mouth was so dry she was
barely able to croak "Cover me, Teen" to Christina who stood in the doorway.
Having loading another magazine into the Uzi, she held the gun up in her left hand and now
reached for 9mm. She thought she heard the sound of someone moaning amongst the dead and
walked cautiously to the heap of carnage that, moments before had nine or ten human
beings.
The smell of cordite was overpowerring as she picked her way through inumerable shell
casings. Lifeless eyes stared at her, but she certainly heard the sound of gurgling...yes,
there, a young man, fighting for breath...at point blank range Myra squeezed off two
rounds and silence reigned once more. Then a shaft of light from the rear of the room made
Myra look up...
"Myra, down" was all Christina managed to say. A door at the rear of the table
opened and a man,who had presumebly been cooking breakfast stood pointing a pistol. He had
already been wounded through the thin wall, but Christina's rapid burst of Uzi fire
punched him back into the kitchen. Myra thought she heard him yell, but that could have
been her imagination. He too was dead. "Fanks darlin'" Myra said matter of
factly to Christina. "Looks like I owe you again" Christina smiled once more.
"Let's get outta here" was all she could say. Myra took the map the rebels had
been studying from the table and followed.
"Looks like Andrios was right." Myra was holding the blood splatted map from the
table. "They were going to attack the police station. If we hadn't done them..."
Myra's voice trailed away. Both women lite cigarettes. Myra held a small radio to her
lips. "Andrios...this is Myra", radio proceedure not being high on Myra's
priorities. "We did it. We are on our way back...put the kettle on darlin'..."