I added the PDF for a character and story I'm (darn it) adding to this story
Wendy and Cathy sat in bed watching the news as the police moved into the ranch. The local news station was showing unedited coverage including bodies and blood. Two days earlier, they were in a van following a dealer on what was going to be their first drive by hit, but something felt off to Wendy, so she aborted what was going to be a trap with the dealer’s gang waiting for them around the corner. As they pulled away, Cathy got a call from Alice talking about several ambushes and how they lost contact with April, June, and Ivan. April and June were a couple that seemed to belong to every group. Two adult women that found each other on the ranch. Ivan was a hacker from Russia with a messy background. Wendy turned around and sped to where April and June were going to be only to find the police and a burning panel-truck. Lying on the side of the street where the bodies of April and June along with another person that was too mangled to be recognizable. About the time the news feed went to the other side of the ranch and found the people that were crucified Cathy had enough and turned the sound down. She whispered to Wendy, “should we try and find any of the others?” Wendy pulled her close and said, “no, we should let all that go like it never happened.”
Wendy awoke to find Cathy was gone. Her dream about that night the ranch fell felt real enough to make her question whether this was now or just a part of the dream. Only when she saw the parts to the unassembled crib in the corner did she know the truth. She got out of bed and put on a robe. Thinking about the strange houseguest she also took a subcompact from her small safe and checked it to make sure it was loaded and ready. The voice of Greg the firearms instructor from the ranch always went through her head when she would pick up a gun, “a gun without one in the chamber might as well just be unloaded because when seconds count you don’t want to have to waste them racking the slide.” Like so many on that day, Greg was murdered by David. He was in his sixties but built like a man in his twenties with a grey crewcut and always in desert camo. They spent a few nights together as he told her about his days in the Marines and she tested the limits of his age in bed. She never found those limits.
She found Cathy in the common room sitting in a loveseat across from this strange man that somehow seemed familiar. He had showered and slept on the couch that night after calling his friend in Mexico and finding out the news about his village. Luis told him that his friend working with the American DEA said they were searching along the border and were closing in on their village. Jorge said, “we have maybe a week before they closed in and from what Luis said they were planning on taking no prisoners or survivors.” Cathy said, “Ruth called, Jack and a few of his friends were on their way and would be here as soon as possible.” Wendy looked at Cathy giving her a, “is this a good idea” look. She didn’t know Jack, but she did know about his business and their work relocating women and children out of dangerous circumstances. They moved and hid women from everywhere including the middle-east and even the heart of America. This part of the business was just a part of what was a mercenary for hire company. Jack was a Jewish man from Ohio married to a Muslim Woman from Iraq living in Hawaii. Wendy sat next to Cathy feeling something hard just underneath Cathy’s leg. Jorge got up and went for a cup of coffee. He was in a thin t-shirt and boxers that didn’t cover much. Wendy watched him walk into the kitchen then she checked what was underneath Cathy. She saw it was Cathy’s Chiappa White-Rhino. Cathy whispered, “I don’t trust him. I think he’s hanging out near naked hoping to distract us.” Cathy saw Wendy was staring at his ass. She whispered, “you know he’s gay right?” Wendy asked, “when has that stopped us?”
A Gulfstream G650 flew over the Pacific Ocean on its way to California then a small one-strip airport somewhere in New Mexico. Jack Pressler sat looking over reports while watching his tablet with footage from a satellite showing a small village in Mexico. He left his wife and five children behind with their youngest teething and their oldest refusing to go back to elementary school. Jack was what could be called an ethical mercenary. He only works for good causes, and after many years behind the gun, he knows his days in this lifestyle are coming to an end. Most of their current jobs were guard work, but it pays the bills. In the next row was a tall, beautiful ebony-skin woman with long platinum-blonde Senegalese Twist hair flowing down past her shoulders. Her name was Tima Cocks, but she insisted people call her TC. She was reviewing a final draft of a book she wrote about her late parents and their work with the World Health Organization or WHO. She left out their charity work as a sort of underground railroad for abused women and children because she was still doing the work. Next to her was a former LA SWAT officer named Janet who spent the entire trip staring out the window. Rounding out the flight was three men in desert camo were Dan, Ted, and Jimmy. This would be the first time they all worked together on one job in years.