First, a note, then on with the story...
WOW!!! I was completely amazed by all the responses I got from people regarding the 'to sequel or not to sequel' question. I had no *idea* so many people were reading this, and enjoying it. To all of you who let me know... THANK YOU!!!!! :o)
The general consensus is that you're not tired of her yet, so, to borrow a bit from my fave movie series:
Mercedes Rabb will return.
(bonus points if anyone figures out the movie reference. ;oP) All I can (or will) tell you at this point is that she is/will be determined to get her cousin ...er... hooked up. :o) As for a certain other party, well.... that's classified.
One more thing: I know some of you will not like the direction things take in this chapter. All I can say is that I hope it will not put you off the story entirely. This has been the plan since the beginning, and while I thought about it long and hard, I really believed that it was best as is. My apologies if I offend anyone.
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PART 42
Harm couldn't believe his eyes. "Mercedes, what the hell are you doing?"
She ignored him, continuing as if he didn't exist. "Arschloch..." she spat at him. The confusion on the Russian's face brought her back just enough to switch to English. "I have seen a lot in my life," she stated in a flat tone that dripped with fury, disgust, and sheer hatred. "I've cleaned up after gang wars. I've handled bodies of victims so mangled you couldn't tell they were human. I've even had to deal with the butchered child victims of serial killers. But you beat them all."
"Harm?" Mac asked quietly from beside him. "She's not..."
"I don't know, Mac," he answered, equally quietly, and completely at a loss for what to do.
Meanwhile, Tikhomirov had managed to recover some of his dignity. "I did what I did to serve the Rodina," he defended.
"Bull-Shit!" CD yelled back, jabbing the pistol against his forehead. "You did it for yourself and only for yourself. I saw what you did to Clay... and I know how you killed my uncle."
"That's impossible," Tikhomirov responded confidently.
"He had been shot... Somehow, you tracked him...followed him. And then... you found him," she stated in a cold voice. "He was probably too weak to put up much of a fight, depending on the amount of blood loss." Her eyes narrowed. "So what was it? What did he do that set you off, Kyril Andreievitch? What infuriated you so?"
"Harm," Mac said, worry coloring her voice. "Stop her. She's out of control."
Harm looked down at her, torn. "I know, Mac. But I'm not sure I can."
"She'll kill him," Mac stated, fighting her way through the fog in her head.
"I know." The anguish was heavy in his voice. Across the clearing, Mercedes continued on, oblivious to everyone but Tikhomirov.
"Whatever he did, you still had your wits about you, didn't you, General?" she insisted, even as the blood began to drain from her adversary's face. "Enough to know that a gunshot would bring others. So instead, you fixed your bayonet. And then you slaughtered him."
Tikhomirov's face was dead white. "How do you know?"
She ignored him, instead staring at him with wild eyes, her hand shaking slightly as it held the gun.
Harm shared a look with Mac, then eased her down to the ground and began slowly, cautiously moving toward his out-of-control cousin. "Mercedes," he said in a low tone, "Don't do this."
She never moved from her stance. "Back off, Harm. This isn't for you to handle."
"He was my father, CD."
"And my uncle."
"He wouldn't want this." Harm moved closer.
"You don't know that."
"I do, CD. Now back away from him and give me the gun." Closer still.
"I can't do that, Harm. Not after your Dad, Clay, and God knows how many others."
"CD... you don't want his death on your conscience. Trust me."
"Listen to him... he speaks true," Tikhomirov interjected, desperate.
"No, Harm. I don't want his life on my conscience," she replied, then cocked back the hammer on the gun. "Goodbye, General. I wish I had time to give you what you truly deserve, but I'll have to leave that to your victims."
"MERCEDES, NO!!!!" Harm's cry rang out as she pulled the trigger repeatedly.
Seconds later, Harm was staring in shock at his cousin, who still held out the gun in a shaking hand, and at the bloody mess that had been the head of General Kyril Andreievitch Tikhomirov slowly spreading across the snow.
WOW!!! I was completely amazed by all the responses I got from people regarding the 'to sequel or not to sequel' question. I had no *idea* so many people were reading this, and enjoying it. To all of you who let me know... THANK YOU!!!!! :o)
The general consensus is that you're not tired of her yet, so, to borrow a bit from my fave movie series:
Mercedes Rabb will return.
(bonus points if anyone figures out the movie reference. ;oP) All I can (or will) tell you at this point is that she is/will be determined to get her cousin ...er... hooked up. :o) As for a certain other party, well.... that's classified.
One more thing: I know some of you will not like the direction things take in this chapter. All I can say is that I hope it will not put you off the story entirely. This has been the plan since the beginning, and while I thought about it long and hard, I really believed that it was best as is. My apologies if I offend anyone.
***********************************************************************
PART 42
Harm couldn't believe his eyes. "Mercedes, what the hell are you doing?"
She ignored him, continuing as if he didn't exist. "Arschloch..." she spat at him. The confusion on the Russian's face brought her back just enough to switch to English. "I have seen a lot in my life," she stated in a flat tone that dripped with fury, disgust, and sheer hatred. "I've cleaned up after gang wars. I've handled bodies of victims so mangled you couldn't tell they were human. I've even had to deal with the butchered child victims of serial killers. But you beat them all."
"Harm?" Mac asked quietly from beside him. "She's not..."
"I don't know, Mac," he answered, equally quietly, and completely at a loss for what to do.
Meanwhile, Tikhomirov had managed to recover some of his dignity. "I did what I did to serve the Rodina," he defended.
"Bull-Shit!" CD yelled back, jabbing the pistol against his forehead. "You did it for yourself and only for yourself. I saw what you did to Clay... and I know how you killed my uncle."
"That's impossible," Tikhomirov responded confidently.
"He had been shot... Somehow, you tracked him...followed him. And then... you found him," she stated in a cold voice. "He was probably too weak to put up much of a fight, depending on the amount of blood loss." Her eyes narrowed. "So what was it? What did he do that set you off, Kyril Andreievitch? What infuriated you so?"
"Harm," Mac said, worry coloring her voice. "Stop her. She's out of control."
Harm looked down at her, torn. "I know, Mac. But I'm not sure I can."
"She'll kill him," Mac stated, fighting her way through the fog in her head.
"I know." The anguish was heavy in his voice. Across the clearing, Mercedes continued on, oblivious to everyone but Tikhomirov.
"Whatever he did, you still had your wits about you, didn't you, General?" she insisted, even as the blood began to drain from her adversary's face. "Enough to know that a gunshot would bring others. So instead, you fixed your bayonet. And then you slaughtered him."
Tikhomirov's face was dead white. "How do you know?"
She ignored him, instead staring at him with wild eyes, her hand shaking slightly as it held the gun.
Harm shared a look with Mac, then eased her down to the ground and began slowly, cautiously moving toward his out-of-control cousin. "Mercedes," he said in a low tone, "Don't do this."
She never moved from her stance. "Back off, Harm. This isn't for you to handle."
"He was my father, CD."
"And my uncle."
"He wouldn't want this." Harm moved closer.
"You don't know that."
"I do, CD. Now back away from him and give me the gun." Closer still.
"I can't do that, Harm. Not after your Dad, Clay, and God knows how many others."
"CD... you don't want his death on your conscience. Trust me."
"Listen to him... he speaks true," Tikhomirov interjected, desperate.
"No, Harm. I don't want his life on my conscience," she replied, then cocked back the hammer on the gun. "Goodbye, General. I wish I had time to give you what you truly deserve, but I'll have to leave that to your victims."
"MERCEDES, NO!!!!" Harm's cry rang out as she pulled the trigger repeatedly.
Seconds later, Harm was staring in shock at his cousin, who still held out the gun in a shaking hand, and at the bloody mess that had been the head of General Kyril Andreievitch Tikhomirov slowly spreading across the snow.