The gun is light in my hand… too light. Anger, frustration, revulsion war in my heart. I look down at this man… maybe THE man who killed my friend and his daughter, or at least one of the men… at my mercy now.
I stretch out my arm and look down the sight, trying to keep emotions off of my face. This is the test, I tell myself. If they suspect me, I'm dead.
And then suddenly I'm just angry, but not just at this poor sap at my feet.
I raise the gun and give Joseph something to think about…