As the man's body slumped to the side, I couldn't help but admire how picturesque it was. His reaction to being reminded of his deed was priceless. But still, how could someone kill their own wife and child? Well, now that I'm actually thinking about it, I probably could if needed. Also pretty hypocritical coming from someone who also killed family. Whoops.
I moved away from the body, contemplating my next move. If I had calculated everything right, any backup he would have called would be on its way right now. I could leave to strike again to further grab his attention...or I could stay.
No. I wasn't ready just yet. So deciding to leave, I quickly moved to the rear of the house, where my late friend had made his entrance. Because the tree line grew closest to the back of the house, it strategically made sense to use that as an exit. Stepping through the broken sliding door and onto the porch, I noticed the grass was much too trampled for one person.
Obviously, that meant there was more than one person.
Just as I had come to that conclusion, a fully armed SWAT team burst from the foliage with various firearms trained at me. As a defensive reaction, I raised my own gun to meet them, quickly calculating how I could take out as many as possible while retaining as few injuries as I could.
From behind me, in the house, I heard "Drop the gun and put your hands in the air! You are under arrest for first-degree murder!"
By the sound following the shout, I estimated about five policemen behind me. By that assessment, I decided, for now, it would be smart to play it safe. At least until I could gain the upper hand.
So: gun on the ground, hands in the air, I watched as the state colonel strode towards me.
Finally.
He stopped in front of me, looked me up and down, and smirked.
"Well well well, look who we have here. It seems to me, you've finally been caught! And a grand chase you've lead over the country."
I stood in silence, thinking how ironic it was; just a few minutes ago I was in a strikingly similar confrontation but on the other side of the gun. There was also, I remember, considerably fewer guns before.
"Heh, I don't think you can weasel out of this one, what with you being surrounded and everything," he said, gesturing to my hands, still in the air. As he was talking, I couldn't help but feel something was different. Not that it mattered right now.
"Oh, I can't? We'll see about that."
"Really? You just murdered a hardworking man of the law in cold blood. That itself would call for at least a life sentence. But amid everything else you've done..." His expression hardened. "You know what you have coming."
Taking advantage of my effect on people, I smiled. As usual, it worked like a charm. Proven by his small, involuntary, step back.
"And yet you don't know the most basic information about the people you hire. Remember the unsolved case of the murder of his wife and child? Well," I closed my eyes. I had his attention, now to strike. "You let the murderer into your ranks; you gave him the perfect cover to kill and kill again."
Opening my eyes, I saw the reaction I was expecting to see. The look of shock and disbelief was there and gone in an instant, but it had been there. Maybe he was surprised I would spin such a tale to slander the Maine police force's favorite expert. Or maybe he did believe me.
Darkness clouded his face as he lifted a finger. Suddenly, I was on the ground in the most incredible pain. Memories, nightmares from the past flashed by, more pain. Tasers. Of course, they would have tasers. I looked up through involuntary tears to see the colonel looking down at me in disgust. He kicked me in the side, bringing a moan and more pain.
"You're despicable. I can't believe you're my flesh and blood." Rolling onto my stomach, I attempted to get up. I returned his insult with another smile, although through the pain it was more of a grimace.
"Same to you, brother dear."
He snarled and kicked me again, making me lose my balance and my smile. "Get him up and in cuffs. All of you standing by, I want your weapons trained on him at all times. Do not let him escape." As he finished ordering his men, he looked back down at me. After giving me one more dirty look, he turned and left.
Now I took a serious moment to assess my situation. Where I was - still in pain, now handcuffed, and without a weapon - there wasn't much I could do. I could finally think about what was so strange about our short-lived confrontation; I was taller than him. I had always thought he was the taller; it had been that way when I had last seen him, but apparently not anymore.
I was quite rudely ripped from my thoughts as I was paraded through a heavily armed crowd to a heavily armored vehicle, shoved unceremoniously in, and driven away.