CHARMING'S AUTHORS NOTE #1: Welcome back everyone! Everything has been building up in this story, tension and peril building upon themselves. To this point, our intrepid heroes have been able to allude detection. Til now, Graham had no idea the trouble he was in. What if that changed? What if the beasts that lurk in the shadows, finally made their move? Buckle up, because nothing will be the same from here.

CHARMING'S AUTHORS NOTE #2: Thanks to the amazing nevr for helping me with the beta of this story. Thanks for the help Nev!

The Monster You Made Me

A Story by
CharmingCharles2896

Chapter Five
Vultures

Office of the Director of the National Security Agency
Fort George G. Meade, Maryland
August 10th, 2023
11:00 AM EDT

Diane Beckman may have been in her seventies, but she wasn't blind to what was unfolding around her. Dubbed the Matron of America's Intelligence Community, Diane Beckman had spent the better part of the last forty-five years working to keep America safe from her enemies, both foreign and domestic. Having been appointed head of the National Security Agency by President Jeffrey Rowland and retained by President Anthony Bishop, Director Beckman had shaped the NSA for the better part of the last ten years. In that time, she'd made a lot of friends and considerably more enemies. One of those friends that she'd accumulated over the years was Sarah Walker. While she was technically part of Langston Graham's not so secret Enforcer Program, she was also the best of the best where the CIA was concerned.

When her aides had alerted her to the stepped-up activity at the CIA, as well as the chatter of Agent Walker going rogue, Diane Beckman knew to look deeper. Nobody exactly knew where Agent Walker was or who she was with, but Beckman knew that Walker was a patriot, one of the good guys. If Agent Walker was indeed rogue, it was for a damn good reason. Diane Beckman had learnt long ago to trust her instincts and her instincts told her that something didn't smell right. All of this new activity at the CIA was coming directly from the top. Graham was commanding a situation seemingly beneath someone of his stature. Dealing with rogue agents was typically work for Internal Affairs, yet Graham had his Enforcers out in force, looking for Agent Walker.

It was eleven in the morning at Fort Meade, Maryland, home of the NSA. Director Beckman knew Graham had been in his office all night, so she wasn't worried about him not answering her call. When his secretary connected Beckman to Graham, she put on her best happy voice.

"Langston, how are you this morning? I've been told there is a lot going on over there at Langley and I was calling to offer my assistance." Beckman knew this was the game that had to be played, so she acted like she actually wanted to talk to the vulture who was leading the CIA these days.

"Hello, Diane; it has been a busy morning. Agent Walker has gone rogue," Graham said in reply.

"That's what I heard, what can you tell me? Maybe the NSA can track her down," Beckman offered, knowing he'd never take the bait.

"Agent Walker has kidnapped two civilians, a father and his young daughter. She's presently in the wind and we have no idea what she plans to do to her hostages," Graham said, offering Beckman a surprising amount of information.

"Who are the civilians, anyone on our radar?" Beckman asked as she grabbed a piece of paper and a pen and began taking notes.

"Charles Irving Bartowski and his daughter Molly. Mr. Bartowski is one of ours, an asset one of my agents has been developing off the books. I sent Agent Walker to make contact with Bartowski to bring him in for some work and she just disappeared. Bartowski is in possession of highly classified documents that he was doing some analysis work on. At this moment, we do not know what Agent Walker plans to do, but if that information falls into the hands of our enemies, it could be devastating." Beckman was writing frantically, trying to keep up with the story Graham was weaving for her.

"I'll get my best people on this, Langston. We'll have Agent Walker in custody in no time, I assure you," Beckman said as she finished taking notes.

Agent Walker sent to terminate Bartowski, is now on the run. Bartowski possesses information harmful to Graham.

Diane Beckman knew how to speak Grahamese, so she saw through the story he was telling her. She knew how the game worked, give just enough information to get others to do your dirty work for you, without revealing the game that was actually afoot.

"Thank you, Diane, I'll be in touch if anything develops," Graham said, ending the call. Beckman sat back in her chair, her mind trying to comprehend what was going on. Mary Bartowski's son was on the run with Sarah Walker. Mary Bartowski had been one of Diane Beckman's best pupils back in the day, before she'd supposedly turned traitor and been terminated by Graham. Mary's termination had never sat well with Beckman, so this development was all the more validation for her prior concerns. Knowing time was short, Beckman pulled out her personal cellphone and called a number she hadn't called in far too long.

The phone rang for a long moment before a gruff voice grumbled into her ear. "John?" Beckman said.

"Is this a personal or professional call?" John Casey replied tersely.

"I'm afraid this is a professional call, Johnny," Beckman said, knowing how much calling her nephew that name irked him.

"Roger that, Ma'am, what can I do for you, Director?" Casey said professionally.

"Are you still in DC, or have you flown back to San Antonio with Gertrude?" Beckman asked, knowing that Casey had been in DC for business recently.

"Still in DC, Ma'am, Gertrude and I don't fly home for another week," Casey replied. Beckman nodded to herself as she thought for a moment.

"Do the two of you still have security clearance?" Beckman asked, turning in her chair to look outside. Fort Meade wasn't the most glamorous view in the world, but it beat having an office with no windows.

"Yes, Ma'am, why?" Casey asked, sounding curious.

"Graham's top Enforcer has gone rogue," Beckman began, hearing the surprised grunt from Casey. "I know, I'm skeptical. The story Graham gave me sounded like a load of horse shit. Would you be willing to find her and the two civilians she's with?" Beckman asked, intentionally keeping details light in case anyone was listening in.

"Ma'am, I don't do that anymore. I'm retired and I promised Gertrude that I'd stay that way." Beckman knew that's what he'd say, but she had to ask.

Beckman spoke up, knowing there was one more card she had yet to play. "One of the civilians that is with her is a single father. If we don't find Walker, and the two civilians with her, I fear they're as good as dead, John." After she finished her pitch, she waited for the sigh she knew was coming. Sure enough, Beckman heard Casey sigh in resignation.

"We'll be at Fort Meade in an hour," Casey said before hanging up. Knowing that John was on the way, Beckman grabbed her office phone and dialed her secretary.

"Erika?" Beckman called.

"Yes, Ma'am?" Erika replied quickly.

"Get me, Sheriff Farley, Fort Meade Police Department," Beckman commanded into the phone before waiting a long moment for Erika to connect her.

"Sheriff Farley," came a direct voice on the other end of the call.

"Joe, this is Beckman," she said, knowing he didn't need more than that to know who was calling.

"Diane, how are you?" Sheriff Farley replied happily.

"I'm doing fine, Joe; listen, I've got a favor to ask of you," Beckman began, knowing what she was about to ask was a gross abuse of her position as Director of the National Security Agency.

"What can I do for you?" Sheriff Farley asked, less jovially.

"I've got a trio of people that I'm looking for. I'm going to send you their names and pictures. I expect them to be heading for Fort Meade, though I have no idea when they will arrive. I need your people to be on the lookout for them. I've got my own people searching for them, but any help in locating them would be appreciated." Beckman knew this was a big ask, something which was plainly overstepping into his territory. Still, she hoped she'd built up enough of a relationship with the local sheriff to ask this of him.

"Do you want us to arrest them?" Sheriff Farley asked, a hint of confusion in his voice.

"No, one of them should be considered extremely dangerous. If you spot them, I'll give you a number to contact. Just let them know where the three subjects are and my people will handle the arrest." Beckman said, hoping to convey exactly how dangerous Agent Walker was without having to spell it out in detail.

"Can do, Diane," Sheriff Farley said directly, his no nonsense attitude clear.

"Thank you, Joe, and one more thing," Beckman added.

"What is that?" the Sheriff's asked.

"If the CIA calls about these people, it would be best if you were… less than cooperative, if you catch my drift."

"Right…" Sheriff Farley added, a hint of leeriness in his voice as the call ended. Beckman sat back in her chair and let go of a deep sigh. Agent Walker was in the wind and Beckman had a feeling the poor woman was one of the good guys in this whole mess. Still, Beckman couldn't be sure and she'd have to take precautions. There was still the small chance that Graham had told her the truth for once. Beckman didn't give that particular eventuality much of a chance of actually happening, but she'd take steps regardless.

"Mary Bartowski's son, come to shake this entire business to its core," she mused to herself and she wondered how all of this would play out.

~X~

Woodwardville, Maryland
August 10th, 2023
2:00 PM EDT

As Sarah had expected, the journey east was complicated. When the three of them had gotten to the hangar that housed one of Carina's planes, they'd found the cockpit taken apart, the plane out of fuel. Chuck and Sarah had spent the better part of two hours reassembling the cockpit with power tools. Chuck's knowledge of electrical engineering and computer science had proved invaluable as he'd had to reassemble the electronic systems in the cockpit, while Sarah had the job of bolting the seats back onto the floor. After they'd both finished reassembling parts of the plane, they'd had to figure out how to refuel the damn thing. Molly had slept on the plane, in a seat the entire time, which was a relief for both Chuck and Sarah.

After refueling the plane, Sarah had gotten them off the ground and heading east towards Maryland. The plane itself wasn't the fastest thing in the world, topping out at a measly four hundred and twenty miles per hour. Sarah had flown jets capable of Mach two, so this was downright sedate. The flight had taken three and a half hours, which wasn't awful. Sarah had landed the plane at a small regional airport in West Virginia called Greater Cumberland Regional Airport. Unloading and getting a car was complicated, but Sarah made it work, she'd had to figure out worse problems in harsher conditions. With the three of them arriving in West Virginia at one in the morning, Sarah drove them all the rest of the way, which took another two and a half hours. All told, they'd gotten to Fort Meade, home of the NSA, at five forty-five in the morning, which wasn't bad, all things considered.

Sarah knew that the main gate for Fort Meade was open all day, every day, so she'd driven straight there. The number of unmarked government issue cars Sarah saw everywhere was incredibly concerning and Sarah had balked at trying the gate. Once the situation had been explained to Chuck, they'd retreated from the field to regroup and formulate another plan. Deciding against staying in town of Fort Meade, Sarah had settled on nearby Woodwardville, just southeast of Fort Meade. They had stopped to eat something and then found a place to stay. Sarah had checked in under an assumed identity, one that the CIA had no knowledge of, so she was hoping that would buy them enough time to get to Beckman. Once they'd gotten a motel room, they all took a moment to relax, all of them needing to regroup after nearly constant motion for over a day.

Sarah Walker had never actually been to Fort Meade, home of the National Security Agency. She knew how to get onto military bases, but she'd never actually been to Fort Meade. Her only ever assignment with the NSA had been given to her via video conference. That wasn't to say that her lone official NSA mission was her only interactions with the them, far from it. The last time Sarah had interacted with the NSA was three years ago, when she'd done an off the books' assignment for the Director of the NSA, herself. Director Beckman had needed Sarah to rescue someone, a CIA agent named Roan Montgomery. Sarah knew of Roan; he'd taught her infiltration and inducement of enemy personnel at the Farm more than eight years ago.

The entire assignment had been a strange one, Graham sending her over to help Beckman. Apparently, Graham liked Roan too, so Sarah was sent out to rescue his horny ass from a jam in Serbia. The last time Sarah had actually communicated with Beckman in person had been at a diner in DC. That business with Roan had ingratiated Sarah with Beckman. They'd corresponded electronically since then, but it had been a minute since Sarah had the chance. The hope was that Beckman would be willing to help Sarah, even if it was only an effort to square up a debt that Beckman owed. Sarah hated plans where hope was a strategy, but her options were extremely limited at the moment, so hope was all she had.

Sarah knew she could send a message to Beckman, but the chance that the CIA could catch wind of the message was too risky. Beyond simply getting to Beckman, a new problem had arisen, a sick four-year-old. Molly had thrown up the first time during the drive into Woodwardville, not long after they'd eaten breakfast. Then, Molly vomited again thirty minutes later at a gas station. Now she was bedridden, making trips back and forth to and from her bed and the bathroom. Poor Chuck was worried sick, pacing back and forth in the room, constantly in motion. Molly's stomach hadn't revolted against her in over an hour, but she was still feeling miserable, which worried Chuck.

"Sarah, she needs help, we can't just stay here," Chuck said to Sarah, who was peeking through the drawn curtains.

"I know that, Chuck, every second we spend out there is another chance for the CIA to see us and send someone to finish the job I was sent to carry out in the first place," Sarah said back to him, her tone equally filled with worry. "Graham likely has people all over this area, looking for us," Sarah said in a tone filled with paranoia.

The feeling of Chuck's hand pulling Sarah away from the window and throwing her against the door, shocked her to say the least. In an instant, Sarah saw pure fury and rage in Chuck's eyes as he pointed an angry finger into her face.

"Listen closely, Agent Walker," Chuck began in a menacing tone that Sarah hadn't heard from him. "We are taking my daughter to a doctor, right now. I don't care if God himself has sent the Angel Gabriel to find me, my daughter's health is the only priority. You can stay here and be safe, or you can come with me, I no longer give a damn." With that, Chuck grabbed the car keys from the bedside table and picked his miserable looking daughter up off the bed. Sarah was stunned silent as she watched Chuck carry his daughter from the motel room. Shaking herself from her shock, Sarah raced after Chuck and got in the passenger's seat.

Chuck put the car in gear and pulled out of their parking spot. "I spotted an urgent care center back on Annapolis, before we turned south; that's our closest option.

"That's close to all of the heat on us, Chuck," Sarah said as she scanned the environment around them.

"Don't care," Chuck said flatly, now in control for the first time since this all began. The car fell silent after that, Molly restlessly sleeping in the backseat, lacking a car seat this time. Eventually, Chuck glanced over at Sarah, the blonde assassin still scanning their environment. She was ever vigilant, like a faithful guard dog; relentless in her efforts to keep him and his daughter safe. Chuck just shook his head and continued to drive.

~X~

"Well, Mr. and Mrs. Anderson, your daughter seems to have a case of food poisoning. What was the last thing she ate?" The physician's assistant said to Chuck and Sarah.

"She ate some scrambled eggs at a diner this morning," Sarah said to the PA.

"She complained of an upset stomach not long after eating, but she seemed fine," Chuck said, guilt on his face. The PA waved off Chuck's clear guilt.

"Don't feel bad, Mr. Anderson, this kind of thing happens sometimes. On your way home, stop at Rite Aid and buy her some chewable, Children's Pepto Bismol tablets, that should help with the nausea." The smile on the PA's face did much to calm Chuck's mind. Sarah nodded to the PA, who stood. "If you'll all follow me to the front, we'll take care of the bill and you can be on your way." Chuck grabbed Molly in his arms and followed Sarah and the PA out of the exam room. The four of them walked past three other exam rooms in order to get back to the front of the clinic.

As they all walked back towards the waiting room, Chuck spoke up. "I need to apologize for my behavior back at the motel," Chuck began. Sarah looked back at Chuck as he continued. "I am ashamed of my treatment of you earlier. What I did is antithetical to who I am as a person."

"Thank you, Chuck," Sarah replied quietly as the PA turned the final corner. The PA stopped in her tracks and gasped. Sarah turned the corner as well and instantly saw the man in black with the gun.

"Get back!" Sarah called to Chuck as she ducked behind the corner and pulled out her gun. The PA wasn't so fortunate, the poor woman quickly riddled with bullets from a silenced automatic rifle of some sort. Molly screamed as the hail of gunfire continued. The streak of blood on the wall behind the dead PA was gruesome, more Tarantino than Michael Bay. Chuck fell to the ground, clutching Molly close to shield her from any incoming fire. The sound of bullets flying through the walls of the hallway shocked Chuck and Sarah. High energy ammunition didn't behave like the movies. High energy ammunition would go through walls, cars, anything not extremely solid. Chuck slowly began to crawl along the ground, shielding Molly beneath him as he moved.

"It's going to be okay; it's going to be okay," Chuck said to Molly on repeat. The poor, little girl was crying terrified tears. Sarah looked to her left and saw Chuck moving away from the incoming fire, back down the hallway. Sarah knew she had to give Chuck some cover fire, so she stuck her arm around the corner and fired a trio of shots, silencing this mysterious assailant, at least for a moment. In that moment, Sarah cursed the fact that all she had was her pistol; her XM7 was in the car.

"Chuck, you've got to get her out of here!" Sarah called to Chuck over the thunderous sound of rifle fire.

"Come on, you can't stay here!" Chuck replied as bullets blasted through the thin walls, sending debris in all directions.

Sarah nodded and made to move when she heard a voice. "Agent Walker," called the man in the waiting room. Sarah knew that voice; she'd never met the man, but she knew who Nicholas Quinn was. "It's so good to finally meet you; though I must say, I am a bit disappointed," Quinn said with an arrogant smile as he quickly reloaded his rifle.

"Agent Quinn, what an unpleasant surprise," Sarah called as she checked her ammunition status. Sarah knew she had one remaining, twenty-one round magazine of ammunition on top of the sixteen shots remaining in her current magazine. This level of combat wasn't something she was currently equipped for and she knew she couldn't keep this up for long. "Still Agent Smith's bootlicker, or have you graduated to kissing Graham's ass, instead?" Sarah called back to Quinn, knowing that would get a rise out of him. Out in the waiting room, Quinn smiled evilly.

"That's rich coming from Graham's favorite bitch," Quinn shot back. "Does black dick taste different, or is it all the same for a dumb cunt like you?"

"I wouldn't know, Short and Round; you'll have to find out for me the next time you see him!" Sarah said before firing three shots around the corner. Sarah leapt to her left after firing, knowing Quinn would return fire where he thought she was. As expected, three shots blasted large holes in the wall where Sarah had been hiding.

"Trust me, Agent Walker, with you out of the way, I'll finally get my due," Quinn began.

"Are you sure?" Sarah replied. "I would have thought Graham would be more interested in Agent Prince, but I won't judge what two men do together in their off time!" Chuck was a bit shocked to hear the back and forth between Sarah and whoever the hell was shooting at them. The cocky smile and confidence in Sarah's features told Chuck that she was in her element. This was Sarah's world, a world of violence and death, a world of which Chuck did not belong.

"When Graham hears that I was the one to kill you, the father, and his little shit stain of a daughter, I will finally get the recognition that I deserve," Quinn called arrogantly. All around Quinn were dead bodies, the woman behind the front desk, two doctors, and three patients, all dispatched without a single shot. After the knockout gas had dissipated, all Quinn had to do was go around and break all of their necks to kill them all. Killing these three was going to be the easiest assignment he'd ever had.

Back in the hallway, Sarah glanced over at Chuck and motioned for the end of the hallway, the emergency door. "Check for anyone outside, I'll cover you!" Sarah mouthed to Chuck, who nodded and made for the door. Sarah switched her pistol to her left hand, rose to her feet, and fired a series of far more accurate shots around the corner where she thought Quinn was standing.

Molly wailed in fear as the cacophony of noise echoed off the walls once again. When the shooting resumed, Chuck made for the door and opened it slightly, glancing out of the door. Chuck could see someone standing by the car they'd used since they'd arrived in the area.

Chuck gently closed the door, turned to face Sarah and spoke, "He's got someone by the car!" Chuck called over the sound of bullets flying. "Who the hell is this guy!?"

When Quinn's fire stopped, Sarah carefully peeked around the corner, but ducked back quickly as a hail of shots flew past her head. Looking back at Chuck, Sarah thought briefly before speaking.

"His name is Nicholas Quinn. He's one of Graham's other Enforcers, though he's not particularly good at his job." Sarah fired two shots around the corner, ejected the magazine for her pistol and reloaded. Stashing her empty magazine to reload later, Sarah spoke up. "Quinn always leaves too much collateral damage in his wake. Everyone calls him Captain Catastrophe."

"Magical, what are we going to do now?" Chuck said nervously, clearly trying to put on a good front for Molly and failing miserably. Firing another salvo around the corner, Sarah took off for the emergency door. When Sarah arrived by Chuck's side, he watched her open the door a crack and glance at the person by the car. Sarah saw James Keller, another of Graham's Enforcers. Quinn had come with backup, a smarter decision than he was known for. Keller was older, in his late fifties at this point. The one thing Sarah knew about Keller was that he was old-school. Keller had come up during the war on terror, spending his time torturing Islamic jihadists for information. When Graham had recruited Keller into his Enforcer Program, everyone knew it was so that Graham had a torture specialist at his beck and call.

Sarah closed the door and reached into her purse, which she had grabbed off the ground before making for the emergency door. Chuck watched Sarah pull a silencer out of her purse, giving her a confused look. Seeing Chuck's confusion, Sarah gave him a half-hearted smile. "Trust me," she said simply as she finished screwing the silencer into place. Chuck gave Sarah a nod and then looked back down the hallway behind them, where more of Quinn's rifle fire had reduced the wall to nothing, a massive whole in the corner where Sarah had been taking cover. Sarah opened the door a crack, stuck her pistol through the gap, and fired off a single shot.

At a distance of fifty feet or more, the shot was risky, but Sarah wasn't worried. Keller dropped like a stone, the shot impacting the older spy in the side of the head. Sarah pushed the emergency door open further and scanned her surroundings. Quinn was still blasting away like a deranged animal, but it looked as if the only help, Quinn had brought was now dead. Sarah motioned for Chuck to move towards the car. Chuck did as he was told, shielding his daughter's eyes from the grisly sight of a man without most of his head. Chuck didn't know who this man was, but his blood was all over the ground, not to mention the hood of their blue, Honda Accord. Sarah opened the rear passenger's side door and pulled out her rifle case; it was time to end this. Chuck watched Sarah pull the XM7 out of its expensive, hard case and load it.

Turning to look at Chuck, Sarah tossed him her purse and spoke with an ice-cold tone. "Take the car to the gas station down the road. Once you're there, get into the gas station in view of people and wait for me, I'll come and get you." Chuck had never heard this tone of voice from Sarah, so he was unnerved.

Chuck shook his head no, clearly vehemently opposed to this plan. "You can't stay here, Sarah, it's not safe," Chuck said as he glanced over at the front of the clinic.

Looking back towards Sarah, Chuck saw steel in her eyes, ice-cold death personified. "I wasn't asking, Chuck," Sarah began in a tone that made the hairs on the back of Chuck's neck stand up. Chuck swallowed nervously and nodded quickly. Sarah watched Chuck belt Molly into a seat as best as he could considering the lack of her car seat. Chuck quickly walked around the back of the car and made for the driver's side door, quietly opening it.

Just as Chuck was about to climb into the seat, Sarah spoke up in a softer tone. "This is my job, Chuck," Sarah began. Chuck looked over at Sarah, seeing regret and resignation in her eyes. "Quinn knows where we are and will tell others. I have to take care of him," Sarah said as she hung the strap of her rifle across her body, letting the rifle hang loosely in front of her.

"You mean, kill him," Chuck said, getting a nod from Sarah.

"Trust me, Chuck, it's what I do," Sarah said with a meaningful look in her eyes as she rose and took off for the clinic, leaving Chuck there. Chuck spared a glance at the clinic before climbing into the car and speeding away. Chuck could hear police sirens in the distance and he knew without a doubt that he couldn't afford to be seen by them.

Sarah watched Chuck and Molly speed away for a brief moment. If this was the last time that Sarah ever saw them both, then at least she'd gotten them this far, so much as that was worth. Flipping the safety off of her rifle, Sarah crept up on the front door. Quinn was still blasting away like a crazed super villain. Seeing the man in action, Sarah clearly understood that the man had a screw loose, maybe even two or three of them. Quinn's clear affinity for destruction and chaos made him almost comically cliché. Sarah flipped on the sights for her rifle and crept toward the front door. Seeing the bodies all around Quinn gave the man an air of chaotic evil, chilling.

Sarah saw Quinn's back to her as he walked from the waiting room, into the back hallway. Creeping silently, Sarah reached for the glass door, the words "Urgent Care" painted on the glass in large, red letters. Just as she'd done a dozen times, Sarah crept up on her target. As usually happened, her vision seemed to narrow, her target growing huge in her vision as she hyper focused on the task at hand. Quinn was a substandard assassin, his situational awareness clearly lacking.

She had Quinn in her sights, just a few feet closer and she could kill the sonofabitch. At this range, her rifle would do serious damage to any human, the high-powered rifle designed for longer distance engagements by common infantry. Quinn turned the corner into the back hallway, giving Sarah her window. In that moment, as a disturbing sense of calm descended over Sarah, she knew she was about to take a life and she wasn't particularly upset about it.

"Agent Walker, I know you're here somewhere," Quinn said as he moved down the hallway like a predator, stalking its prey. Walking past the dead bodies of the innocent civilians that Quinn had murdered, Sarah came upon the poor PA that Quinn had so needlessly slain. Looking to her left, Sarah watched Quinn kick open the door to the first waiting room, blasting several rounds into the empty room. Taking a deep breath, Sarah raised her rifle to her shoulder and waited for Quinn to return to the hallway. Eventually, Quinn's black combat boots appeared in her vision, followed by the shorter assassin in his typical, black trench coat.

"Stereotypical outfit for a stereotypical man," Sarah mused as she tightened her grip on her rifle and took aim. Not waiting for Quinn to see her, Sarah fired, the heavy recoil throwing her shoulder back, the deafening sound of her rifle uncomfortable to her unprotected ears. The first shot hit Quinn in the right shoulder, the shot exploding his shoulder and exiting just before his right collar bone. Quinn lurched and spun to the left from the impact of the shot. Sarah didn't wait and fired two more times. The second shot hit Quinn in the back, the shot exploding out of his right lung, while the third shot missed his head as he fell to the left. Quinn tried to brace himself against the wall, but failed and fell to the floor with a thud, a streak of blood on the wall.

Quinn pushed himself onto his back with great effort, his right arm barely hanging on by a thread, his chest wound pouring blood. Sarah closed the distance with Quinn, her foot resting on his left arm to stop him from trying to do anything. The moans and heavy breathing from Quinn were filled with pain. Sarah could hear the blood in his lungs, restricting his air. Standing over Quinn, Sarah looked down at him.

"You can kill me, but it won't stop him," Quinn said with great effort. "That little bitch is going to die in front of her father's eyes," Quinn said with an evil smile.

"Trust me, Quinn," Sarah said as her rifle pointed between his eyes. "As long as I draw breath, nothing is going to happen to that little girl."

Quinn's breathing was extremely labored at this point. The blood flowing from his wounds was getting bad, the end was near. "Smith will find her. You should kill them both; call it a mercy killing," Quinn said with a pained laugh.

The venom and clarity in Sarah's voice would be enough to make the legendary Hercules tremble in fear. "Your life is going to end right here, her's is going to go on until this is nothing but a distant memory," Sarah said as she watched the life drain from Quinn's eyes. Without another word, Sarah breathed deeply, trying to find her calm center. Sarah had killed a number of people during her career, twenty-two, to be exact. For the first time, Sarah felt completely fine with what she'd just done. After a short moment, Sarah looked around and picked up her brass. She knew the police would dust for finger prints, so leaving behind evidence of her culpability was not an option. Having collected the three 6.8 x 51mm shell casings and the twenty-six or so 9mm shell casings, Sarah shoved them into her pockets and made for the emergency exit.

Stepping out into the afternoon sun, Sarah looked around, hearing police sirens, but not seeing them yet. Sarah ran back to the parking spot where they'd parked and grabbed her rifle case, laying on the pavement where she'd left it. Grabbing the case, Sarah made for the back of the parking lot. Sarah ran down the hill at the back of the property, into the patch of woods. The slick flats that Sarah was wearing quickly lost traction, Sarah slipping off of her feet and sliding down the hill. When Sarah stopped at the bottom of the hill, her pants had large mud and grass stains. Sarah removed her XM7 from her body and stowed it lazily in the case, closing it up frantically. Sarah didn't bother with the lock for her case, she didn't have the time. Sarah got to her feet in a hurry, carrying her gun case in her left hand, her pistol in her right hand. Sarah took off into the trees, needing to gain some distance from the scene of the crime.

In that moment, Sarah heard the police cars pull into the parking lot, their tires screeching loudly. Sarah crouched down into some brush, the sticks and underbrush poking and scratching her skin. Ignoring her discomfort, Sarah slowly began to move away from the clinic. As Sarah moved through the woods, doing everything she could to move slowly and avoid detection, she couldn't help but wonder how Chuck and Molly were doing. Did they get away, or did Quinn have other's waiting? Not knowing made her heart constrict in fear, so much left in doubt.

CHARMING'S AUTHORS NOTE #3: Our party has split, divided in the heat of battle. To learn the fate of our heroes, tune in next weeks for The Monster You Made Me, "Chapter Six: A Woman of Violence."

CHARMING'S AUTHORS NOTE #4: Considering reviews are about the only metric I can use to gauge reader interest and the like, your reviews really go a long way in telling me what all of you think, one way or the other. For that, thank you all so much for the numerous reviews, please keep them coming!

Until Next Time :D