Free Codename: Night Witch by Cary Caffrey Page B

somehow keeping to his feet.
    He whirled back to face her, only to find Sigrid waiting for him with her arms folded. He was still roaring mumbled curses, but his rage was turning to confusion and panic. His hands were shaking as he fumbled in his pockets, pulling out handfuls of shotgun shells. He dropped most of them on the ground at his feet and had to bend over to pick them up.
    "I'm waiting," Sigrid said, tapping an impatient foot, then mimed looking at a wristwatch. "You're not going to make it."
    Spittle flew from Bins's mouth. "What the fuck are you?"
    "Who, me?" Sigrid was moving slowly toward him. "Just a girl, Mr. Bins. But one who's having a really bad day."
    Furious now, Bins stuffed in two more shells and slapped the shotgun closed with a loud clack.
    For Sigrid, this was like a training exercise. The jacker's movements were slow and predictable; she sensed his fury and frustration as much as his intention to shred her into bloody bits. He never thought to lead his target, always firing where she had been and a fraction of a second too late. He fired both barrels, one after another, but it was like firing at a ghost, and neither shot came close.
    Furious, he cast the gun aside and charged her. She saw the manic look in his eyes and his hands that reached for her like claws, ready to rend her flesh.
    Sigrid let him come. She waited until the last moment before moving. Bins would never see the blow; neither would Jaffer, who was watching only a few meters away. Planting her back foot, she raised her outstretched palm and let Bins run into her. The straight-arm blow landed firmly at the base of his jaw. It hit with a resounding crack and lifted him clean off his feet. Bins sailed a good two meters back through the air to land hard on his backside.
    Sigrid walked toward him. Clearly, this jacker was made of sterner stuff. His teeth were red with blood, but he was still conscious. He sat there stunned, struggling for breath. He gave his head a shake, trying to clear away the fog. The shotgun lay on the ground at his side, only inches from his fingers.
    Calmly, almost gently, Sigrid nudged him back down as she came to kneel over him, straddling him and kneeling on his arms.
    Bins looked groggily up. "You! I-I know you."
    "I very much doubt that, Mr. Bins."
    "You, you're the—" He coughed, choking out blood and several teeth, and his last words came out garbled. "—the, numph -itch."
    "Mr. Bins, did you just call me a bitch? I sincerely hope not."
    She didn't give him the chance to answer. The last thing Bins saw was her fist closing on his face.
    "Jesus!" Jaffer said. He lifted his cap and drew his hand down his face, wiping away the sweat. "Sigrid, how did you…? I mean, what did you…?"
    "Self-defense classes," Sigrid said offhandedly. "A girl can't be too careful."
    "Well, I suppose… Dammit, Sigrid, those are dangerous people!"
    Sigrid glanced down at the slumbering bodies of the jackers. Bins appeared to be snoring. "They don't look very dangerous."
    "I know! But really. They're not all… I mean, are they—?"
    "Dead? No, they'll live. And I think you can put your hands down now."
    "Yeah, sure." Jaffer nodded, though his hands remained up.
    Grabbing Bins by the ankles, she dragged him from the road to where the other jackers lay and started gathering up their weapons: four long serrated blades, three shotguns and one long-barreled hunting rifle. She tossed them through the open door of the truck. Tucked into Bins's belt was a heavy-caliber recoilless. It only fired 12 mm slugs, but it would do.
    "Careful with that," Jaffer cautioned. "Those things can be tricky dangerous."
    Sigrid promptly cleared the chamber and pulled out the magazine to take stock of the ordnance before slapping it back in.
    "It's all right. I had one like this when I was little."
    "Little? Where on Earth did you grow up? Wait. Don't answer that. I don't think I want to know."
    It was good to have a weapon again. She'd rather go without