Free (2005) 'Whispers In the Wind' by Michael A Diaz Page A

waiting for the prey to appear. Her blood was on fire and she could feel the moistness in her loins as she waited, tension building slowly. She had been there almost an hour and before that she had cruised the street several times, her eyes searching for the dirty, black car parked behind the bar. The man she had come to kill was there, had been there for most of the night, drinking, whoring around. She glanced at the wristwatch again, willing herself to be patient. Sooner or later, he would come out and then, it would be the last day of his miserable life. For a brief moment, her mind centered on what she was about to do, killing another man, but she shrugged her beautiful shoulders. The man she was about to kill was nothing to her, just another cop that had inflicted incredible pain and suffering into her life, just like Dunbar, one of the ‘bad’ people that needed to be eliminated if society was to be safe. In the dark confines of her mind, policemen were the enemy, the ones that had failed to protect her, to keep her safe. They had destroyed her life and caused incredible pain and suffering to her. She was willing to kill them, to expose herself to retaliation and even death, but one way or another they would share in her pain for what they have done to her. One way or another, she was going to make them pay and pay dearly; with their lives.
    ‘This one has been a lot harder to plan than the first one’, she thought idly, her eyes glued to the small alleyway that the bar’s patrons used to get back to their cars. The man lived alone, in an apartment complex, surrounded by people. She had found the address easily enough and then, by calling the department and acting like she knew Officer Moore well, had obtained the information that he was working days, five days a week and off on weekends. Today was Friday, well…really Saturday morning and he was spending time in his favorite watering hole. She had followed him several times during the week after finding his address and watching the apartment, even sitting close to him during a lunch break, watching her prey closely, learning his routine, learning the man as he went about his business. He was an alcoholic or something very close to it, frequenting this bar more than once or twice a week. He was not married but with a long string of women around him and he was not as old as the first man, Dunbar. He had a rugged face and mean looking eyes, just as she remembered him from that horrible night so long ago.
    She laughed a mirthless laugh inside the SUV, as she remembered the way he had looked at her just a couple of days ago, when she had sat next to him at his favorite restaurant and she could see the speculation in his eyes as he wondered if he could put the make on her or how far he could go with her. And the whole time she was sitting next to him at the counter, her mind was busy thinking about ways to kill the bastard, barely able to control herself as she thought about what the man seating next to her had done so long ago.
    At first she had thought of just going to his apartment with some kind of excuse, but realized that would have been foolish. Any noise inside the place and the neighbors would be on the phone and calling the police in seconds. Someone could see her entering the apartment or leaving it. In the end she had decided to take care of him at his favorite watering place and after following him for the best part of a week, she had his routine. Movement by the small alley caught her attention and she saw two people emerge, a man and a woman. In the poor light given by a lamppost, she could barely discern them until they were almost upon her car and she bent down swiftly. Even if drunk, people tend to remember things, and it was better not to give herself away, she told herself. As the couple passed, she raised her head slowly, watching them. Both of them staggered, holding on to each other and she could hear the sound of a woman laughing and the