Chapter Nine: Witchy Woman
Murdock could hear the gentle footfalls of bare feet as she edged closer. The noise halted and a warm breath brushed across the back of his neck.
"I told you I'd kill you, and I always do exactly what I say," Sarah whispered.
Involuntarily, he snapped his eyes shut at her words. They'd been so softly spoken and yet they cut into him. She meant it. He could feel a bead of sweat slide down his temple.
Nearly silent, she walked around to face him. He flinched as a small hand caught him under the chin and lifted his face upwards. Reluctantly, he opened his eyes.
Her taunt, thin lips pulled upward ever so slightly. The smile was unnerving. He squirmed under her gaze. Those dark eyes, nearly dull save for the sparkle of bloodlust, scanned his face. In her right hand, she held the pistol.
The satchel hung loosely at her side as she let go of his chin and took a step back. "You've had a hard day, haven't you?"
He started to stir, trying to get to his feet.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you." She carefully aimed at his chest.
He considered this a moment. "Does it matter?"
She raised an eyebrow as her smile faded.
"I mean," he continued, "you're just going to kill me whether I'm sitting or standing, right? You said you'd kill me and…" He changed his tone to mimic her cold feminine voice. "I always do exactly what I say."
Murdock wobbled to his feet and Sarah took another step back. He steadied himself before flashing a large, toothy grin in her direction.
"Ok Muchacha, you and me have got a problem. I don't really want to die right now. You see, the big guy would miss me way too much. He doesn't like to admit that he cares, but he does. I think he'd be the saddest of all. I could just see his ugly mudsucker face right now all teary eyed and sniffling. It would be a pitiful sight! He'd drown his sorrows in tall glasses of milk and…"
"SHUT UP!"
"Can you…" He slipped into a serious voice. "…can you at least tell what I did to make you so mad before you, you know?"
"What you did?" Her smile returned. "You got in my way."
He wanted to ask her to elaborate, but something warned him to stay quiet. She was nearing the end of her game. All that was left for her to do was pull the trigger.
"If I get the chance," she continued, "I'll kill Peck as well. I knew from the moment I saw him that he wasn't here to buy guns from Ramirez, but Ramirez is a fool and he fell for it. Only an idiot wouldn't recognize a member of the A-Team, but I didn't say anything."
Murdock shifted slightly. If he could just keep her talking then maybe…maybe the guys would save him? It was a long shot.
"I knew Peck would be discovered eventually and that would give me a diversion. For nearly a year I had been pining and preening over Ramirez, working my way to the top of his operation. He's a bigger fool than I had ever imagined. A small time drug lord dipping his hands into international gun running and money laundering, he was in over his head. So, I thought I'd just take his files and see if I could do better. I'm sure I can." She paused to brush a hand over the satchel. "I've got all his shipping information and details on growers, buyers and sellers. The best part is that most of these people know me far better than they know him. I am the one who meets with most of them, after all. That is the beauty of being a translator."
Murdock opened his mouth and then snapped it back shut. He had to come up with a plan. He couldn't count on the guys showing up to save him.
"Peck was annoying. The way he grinned and carried on. Conmen irritate me, but he was useful for my escape. And then you…" She glared at Murdock. "You showed up and nearly ruined everything."
"Sorry," he muttered, his eyes focused downward at her feet.
"How many times must I try to kill you?" She licked her lips and aimed the gun at his head. "I think this will be the last."
"You know," he said with quiet thoughtfulness, "those shoes really did give you bunions."
She quickly glanced down at her feet and he sprang forward. It had been a desperate rouse, but it was the only one he could think of.
Once again, they were grappling for the gun. He had her loosely pinned to the ground with his weight. She reached out with her left had to strike, but he managed to fend off each blow.
The shot fired, and Murdock grunted as she violently shoved him away and scampered to her feet. Blood oozing from her left hand, she pulled the wounded limb in and clutched it to her chest as she circled around him.
Murdock sat on the ground, still dazed from the sound of the gunshot. Sarah halted and glared down at him. What did she want? Was she going to attack again? He was weak, but, judging from the amount of blood she'd lost, so was she. If she came at him, he was sure he could subdue her. It was then he felt the lump underneath him. Glancing down, he discovered that he was firmly seated on the satchel.
"Give me the…" She didn't even get to finish the sentence as a thunderous wave of gunfire broke out within the compound.
"The Federales are here." Murdock yelled over the chaos.
She eyed him for a moment, as if gauging whether he was telling the truth or not, but the growing gunfire finally made her draw back. After one last murderous glance, she took off running.
Murdock would've started laughing, but he'd come to the realization that he too needed to find a hasty retreat. Unfortunately, he didn't think he had the strength for another sprint through the compound.
Reaching into his jacket pocket he pulled out the radio. If the guys said something, anything, maybe he could figure out where to meet them. He wouldn't be quick on his feet, but if it wasn't far away, maybe he'd have a chance. Then, an unsettling thought came to him. When was the last time he'd heard anything on the radio?
He fiddled with the dial. Nothing happened. There wasn't even static. He groaned as he let the radio drop to the ground. It was dead.
