Friday, September 22, 2006

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# 18

“Berg! What the hell are you doing in my truck and this is breaking and entering, you know.”

“Actually it would just be entering. It wasn’t locked.”

“Where have you been? The FBI and some big black CIA type have been looking for you.”

“Yeah, I was interview by a couple of the guys from the FBI and they were talking freak accident stemming from the live fire demo earlier this afternoon.”

“So much for the spare no assets investigation.”

“Sarah, we need to get away from here, now!”

“OK, where to Berg?” “Just drive. Hell, get on 285. It’s always crowded and goes no where from what I can tell.”

“Sarah, Did you see Peter’s head wound? It wasn’t made by any Civil War Musket that’s for sure. Even a 58 or 62 caliber musket wouldn’t do that kind of damage. Oh sure, he’d have a silver dollar-sized hole in the back of his head but he’d still have the back of his head.”

Sarah remembered Peter’s face with the almost perfect ½ inch hole just above his eye and that most of the back, a third of the side and all of his brains were gone.

“So what did it Berg? A magic gun.”

“Do you see this?”

Berg held out what looked like a small plastic yellow flower with four petals.

“Do you know what this is?”

Sarah thought the object looked familiar but couldn’t place it.
“It’s a sabot. They’re used to stabilize a projectile in a smooth bore gun. It’s just a miniature version of what’s used in the Abrams tank.”

“Sarah, I saw the big black man that was talking to you. Does he still go by Virgil? He liked that name.”

“Yes, but it was like pulling teeth to get a name from him. So you know this Virgil guy? That can’t be good can it?”

“Well I don’t consider him being here a coincidence if that’s what you mean. Virgil was one of the CIA’s top assassins the Middle East. We used him to make things easier with certain local warlords who wouldn’t come around to our thinking.”

“So, you think he did Peter but why?”

“No, but I’ll bet he was handling the shooter. He wouldn’t exactly blend in here now would he.”

“Sarah, were you able to save any of your photos? There might be some clues there.”


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