The second picture was just as gruesome as the first and the third.

StoryKettle » DOTTY » sniper

Copyright © 2018, Michael M Wayman

The conference room had no windows, it was deep in the police headquarters. Sat at the big table were the commissioners with their assistants for the east sector, the south sector and the north sector of the city. The little girl sat on the table by the policeman.

The chief constable entered the room with his assistant and began: “Welcome everybody, we have two guests I would like to introduce...”

The little girl stood on the table and danced. It was a finger dance, the policeman recognised it. The dancer pointed her fingers at the ceiling, the people, the walls, anything – this had no significance. The policeman watched her feet. She approached the commissioner for the north sector, Jacob Trundle, she tapped her right leg with her left foot. He was bad, and his assistant too.

The little girl danced to the commissioner for the east sector, Cressida Parch, she tapped her left leg with her right foot. She was good. The policeman was not surprised.

The chief constable sat there, bemused, and said nothing. The others sat there and said nothing. The chief constable continued: “...but first a recap of the big events in the last two days here in Big City.”

A picture of a dead body appeared on a side wall. “Two persons were mugged two nights ago by the Barley brothers. We found two switch-blade knives at the scene of the crime – the DNA matched Brod Barley and Basta Barley. These two Barleys will not be mugging again – it is unusual that the mugged kill the muggers.”

“The pathologist reported that both Brod Barley and Basta Barley had suffered each a crushed wrist and were both killed with a single blow to the head.” The second picture was just as gruesome as the first and the third.

“The same happened to the father of the two brothers named Billie Barley the next day. The same pathologist reported that Billie Barley had suffered a crushed wrist and was killed with a single blow to the head.” A picture of a gun. “We found a revolver in Billie Barley's pocket. It had been used in the last few days. The barrel of the gun was folded flat as you can see in this picture. Again unusual.”

“The body of the third brother, Bounty Barley, was found outside the Abattoir and Cudgel pub two hours later. The same pathologist reported that Bounty Barley had suffered a crushed wrist; however the cause of death was hundreds of blows to the whole body. He, the pathologist, had never seen so many haematoma – at least ten persons must have been involved – the body, as you can see, is black all over.”

“The pathologist also said that the crushed wrists and the single blows to the head were extremely powerful, more powerful than any human could do. Again strange.”

“You may have heard of the NEWTTT operation. It has been used in the southern towns with much success – a drastic reduction in the crime rate and a large increase in happiness. The MO appears to be very simple and consists of two parts. Firstly NEW: identify those men (it is always men) who are very nasty, very evil and very wicked. And secondly TTT: terminate those men.”

“Yes, you are right, this does not conform to police standards of proper investigation, fair trials, and possible punishment. Capital punishment is long gone from civilised countries. However NEWTTT appears to work well and I have been asked to support NEWTTT in Big City. When I say asked, I mean commanded from the highest level. NO questions allowed.”

“May I introduce to you ‘dancing girl’ and ‘policeman’; these are code names. One of them is a NEWTTT agent who has volunteered to work here in Big City for a few weeks, the other is our contact person. Please give them all the help they need, but don't interfere, don't hinder and not a word to the media. Absolutely NO questions allowed.”

The little girl did not understand why she was there, the Barleys were terminated – end of story.

Something was wrong. Where was the policeman taking the little girl? They reached the west sector of the city and its many tower blocks.

Too late, the little girl threw the policeman to the ground behind a brick wall, too late, the policeman's arm had been hit by a bullet. There was a guy with a rifle leaning out of a ninth floor window. The bullets kept coming, some going straight through the brick wall.

Amateur she thought – a sniper's job is to fire one, maybe two shots, and then get the hell out of it. She dragged the policeman to a safer place, she ripped a strip off her dress and bound it round the policeman's arm to stop the blood loss.

She pulled the mobile phone out of the policeman's pocket and put it in his other hand. She did not know what the thing was, but she had often seen people using them – it was probably the right thing to do.

She circled round to the back of the tower block, forced open the fire door and ran up the stairs. This was too easy, the sniper was still there in the apartment with the smashed-in door. She crept into the apartment, he was leaning out the window, she grabbed his ankles and crushed them and tipped him out the window – amateur.

There was still that feeling of nastiness, evil and wickedness, she ran out of the tower block and spied a car with the motor running waiting in the exit to underground parking. She found the entrance and walked past all the parked cars to the exit. Again too easy, she crept up to the car, threw open the driver's door and there he was, the assistant to the commissioner for the north sector with a rifle in his hands being very nasty, very evil and very wicked.

A rifle is fairly useless in hand-to-hand combat, especially in a car. However he did manage to shoot out most of the car windows before his termination.

She circled back to the policeman, she could see many police cars with flashing lights and an ambulance. She walked back to her room and her landlady.

He was not in Diamond Square at nine the next day – she went for a walk and found the lord mayor's palace. Yep, someone very nasty, very evil and very wicked was certainly there.

She entered a large hall, at the other end of the hall was a raised platform with a huge desk on it. Sitting at the desk was a man wearing very pretty clothing and a large gold chain. It was him. She strode across the hall, jumped onto the platform and peered over the desk at the Xmas tree of a man.

She stared at him and he stared at her. She rummaged through his mind, it was awful, like the embers of a large bonfire. Something odd – the nice children at Old Spit House – what was that?

She lifted the edge of the very large and heavy desk and tipped it into the man's lap – not a nice way to go.

The nice children at Old Spit House – where was Old Spit House? She had to find it, it could not be far away.

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