Read Online A Necessary Kill by James P. Sumner - Free Book Online

genuinely unsure where she’s going with this.
    She stays in character, tilting her head slowly, staring at me with insane eyes.
    She says nothing.
    “Oh, right… I see.”
    It’s probably best I let her do her thing.
    She drags the guard into the middle of the corridor and stands over him, a leg on either side of his body. Hitching her dress up, she slowly crouches down, straddling his waist. She leans forward, resting her hands on his shoulders, then looks ahead of her, down the long corridor, through the gates, into the eyes and souls of each security guard in turn.
    “Oh, he’s mine!” she shouts. “A lovely gift—oh, yes he is! Daughter needs a new dress…”
    Jesus Christ, it’s Gollum!
    She starts unbuttoning his shirt. “Daughter will make herself a new one so she’s pretty for when the man with the tea comes back. Pretty in her own flesh… pretty in his !”
    She rips the guard’s shirt open and digs her nails into his chest, drawing blood. She snaps her head around, stares straight at me, and lets out a scream that would scare a banshee.
    “Let’s see how good you really are, heretic!”
    Oh boy…
    I look down the corridor at the team of security personnel. They’re running toward us, approaching the metal gate. The one in front is already reaching for the keys. They’ll be coming to save their colleague and restrain the crazy lady.
    This is not a drill , they’ll be thinking.
    Now what do I do?
    Hang on…
    I have a nightstick. And I’m Adrian Hell. I know exactly what to do…
    She’s not the only one with demons to let out.
    Holding the nightstick in my right hand at one end, I walk purposefully to meet the guards as they file through the gate. They’ll have to come through one at a time, which means, if I’m quick, I might be able to pick one or two off before I’m overrun. That will even things up a little bit at least.
    I reach them as the first guard is pushing the gate open. I swing fast from the hip. He’s slow to react, unprepared for any resistance. The nightstick connects with his temple. He goes down, sliding across the floor, hitting the wall to my left, out for the count. His cattle prod thing slides away behind me, spinning.
    That might come in handy…
    The next one through has time to adjust, but it won’t do him any good. I jab him hard in the stomach. He keels over, the wind knocked out of him. I smash the stick over the back of his head. He face-plants to the floor, out before he hits the tiles.
    The remaining five pile through as fast as they can. Their faces are a mixture of anger and panic. I launch my nightstick at them, turn to run back toward Ruby, pausing only for a split-second to scoop up the electrified baton on my way past.
    I make it back to her, skidding to a stop and spinning around to make my last stand against the oncoming guards. They stop maybe ten feet away, and fan out to cover the full width of the corridor.
    “Give it up,” says one of them, over on the right. “What you’re doing is a federal crime. We will detain you by any means necessary until the FBI arrive.”
    Federal?
    FBI?
    I glance at Ruby, who’s on her feet, standing over the unconscious guard with half his chest shredded. Her arms are out to the sides, and she’s hunched forward in a feral stance. Her eyes are almost demonic.
    Fuck me—she looks like Wolverine!
    They say the most believable actors treat the characters they portray not as a part, or even another person, but merely as extensions of themselves. Who they are, but with the volume turned up. If that’s the case, Ruby DeSouza deserves a fucking Oscar! And possibly some psychiatric support…
    “Look, I know what it looks like,” I say to the guards. “But she shouldn’t be here. There’s a situation that requires her attention, and I don’t have time to go through the motions and officially appeal for her release. Just step aside, and no one else has to get hurt.”
    As one, they take a step toward us. What