Danger Zone. Adult. Teenage killers, CIA, Mafia, and a drunken PI. (standard:mystery, 8611 words)
Author: Oscar A Rat	Added: Jul 21 2020	Views/Reads: 1400/987	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
An organized group of teens instigate a crime wave.

Her mirror was all but invisible as it inched around the bottom corner
of an open door. She could see a guard. He was sitting on a 
straight-backed chair, leaning against the wall next to another door, 
that one closed. An AK-47 7.62mm assault rifle stood by his side. The 
Cuban soldier was reading a paperback book of some kind, lulled by 
several hours of inactivity on a boring night detail. 

It wouldn't be easy getting to him. She would have to cross a
twelve-foot open area without sounding an alarm or being shot for her 
efforts. Edging the mirror around carefully, taking care not to flash 
it in his eyes, she maneuvered the glass to cover the entire hallway. 
There was a side corridor that extended to the left of her quarry. She 
hoped that the corridor was empty for it's full length -- if not, she 
might die. At 3 am, her chances were only slightly less than equal, if 
she could only get past that one guard. 

Tensing stiffening leg muscles and taking out a slim heavy blade, Shayla
Jones counted to herself -- even while taking deep breathes, letting 
them out with every two-count. At ten, she quickly rose, stepped around 
the corner and sent the knife flying from her hand, that appendage then 
dropping to her side to draw a German 9mm P-38 pistol, just in case. 

Sensing something, the guard looked up with sleepy eyes. Formerly sleepy
orbs widening, he started to reach for his rifle. His mouth opened, 
only to emit an abbreviated "Yeeeee," as the keen blade entered his 
chest, piercing his heart. 

Holding the pistol in front of her, Shayla hurried down the corridor,
stopping briefly at the turn. Taking a chance, she extended an arm, 
holding the small mirror to gaze into the other hallway. There was no 
reaction, as she could see a still-empty corridor. 

Returning to the dead guard, she found the door behind him was locked. A
quick search showed the man had no key on him. Using a small but noisy 
battery-operated device, the female Special Agent had the door unlocked 
in seconds. Returning the object to her pocket, she waited a few vital 
seconds to calm down and again raised her weapon to barge through the 
door. 

Dropping to her haunches to the right of the open door, she swept the
room with anxious eyes, alert for any movement.  Finding no one in that 
outer chamber, she took a few seconds to drag her victim inside and 
close the door before starting a search, moving quietly but quickly 
through a luxury apartment. There was a wide streak of blood in the 
corridor but Shayla had no time to clean it. 

She found her quarry, a Cuban general, asleep with his girl friend. The
girl had been paid for information on finding him, sleeping with him 
part of the plan. Shayla quietly shook the girl by the shoulder. Eyes 
opening, the woman stepped out of bed and started dressing. Picking up 
the girl's pillow, the agent held it over her own stomach. Quickly 
falling across the bed, the pillow landing on his face, she grasped a 
metal edge on the other side, fingers tightly compressing springs, and 
pulled herself taut. The Cuban woman plopped her body on top of 
Shayla's for added weight. 

With both feet planted on one side and her strong arms pulling on the
other, the pillow was pressed tightly over his face. He struggled, 
clutching at her rubber body-suit with manicured nails, but couldn't 
get his face free. After a few minutes, his feet jerked and 
straightened. They then quivered. The two women held position for a few 
minutes longer, until Shayla's arms shivered to the point where she had 
to let loose. Panting filled the room as she checked his pulse. He was 
dead. Shayla rearranged the pillows and bedclothes. The two females 
left. 

*** 

Johnny Jones and his two friends, he was the single black one of the
three, entered a third avenue candy store. They went in and studied the 
display of sweets. One of them produced a dollar from his mother and 
wanted to buy candy. It was 10:15 a.m. on July 20, 1992. The store was 
in Selma, Alabama, once the site of a great deal of controversy. A fact 
known but uninteresting to the boys. 



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