Christi grabbed her coat and as she ran down the stairs, she pulled it on and buttoned it up. She was still listening to him talk as she exited her building and turned down the sidewalk. It was only a few blocks to the coffee shop. Maybe five more minutes.

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Back on Brown’s Bridge Rd, he punched the throttle and pushed the car through the gears. As the speedometer crossed over a hundred miles per hour, he noticed the Beemer was still back there… further… but seemingly pacing him.

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“I should have shipped at least one of these,” he said out loud, although really just for his own benefit.
“Need help, soldier?” he heard over his shoulder.
JD froze, then slowly turned to face the familiar voice, flooded with equal parts of excitement, hope and dread.
Words stuck in his throat as he looked down into her bright green eyes.

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Elevator Man lifted the rifle to the desk, back from the open window, grabbing two books to raise the bipod slightly. He zoomed his scope in to view a small flag waving behind the man on the podium. He made a minor adjustment to the scope. He reframed his target and waited for his breathing to slow.

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“I don’t feel very good,” she whispered. She was looking around to see if there might be a police officer around. She tried to turn back toward the bar, thinking she might be able to get help, but his grip tightened. “Please, let me go,” she said, her words slurring.

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