Post by Maggie Lefebvre on Jan 10, 2015 5:04:27 GMT
2-3 PM
Charles de Gaulle Airport
Industrial Complex
Maggie Lefevbre was on full alert. The stone-cold assassin-well, at work-was waiting on a Parisian baker's rooftop. She would be eagle-eyes for the Prefecture du Police.
Today, two men had bombed a newspaper. Nobody bombed news outlets when Mags was in town. She’d just come off a major arrest and was in full-on perp catching mode.
Her earpiece buzzed.
Maggie , je ai besoin de confirmation sur la cible The voice of the captain. She sighed, but replied, her voice tense.
Monsieur, Je l'ai dans mon peripherial gauche She waited, and the voice came again.
Prenez le coup de feu.. She nodded again. She would take the shot; once to the head and once to the chest. Surely a kill shot; he was not meant to live. She raised her rifle, and after a fast, deep breath, she closed her right eye, and squeezed the trigger. “Whoosh”…1700 mph, a bullet sailed through the air, and, from her rooftop vantage point, Maggie saw the satisfying spurts of blood. BOOM! Shot two…and she was off the roof as fast as she’d fired. She scrambled down, and was on the ground as her Captain yelled in French.
Les arrêter ! Medic ! Medic ! She slung the rifle over her shoulder-it was never a good day when Maggie had to shoot someone, even if they deserved little justice. They still deserved justice…deserved to answer for their crimes. However, she wasn’t in charge of this scene, so she got the hell out of the way, ducking into the back of a police car, and dialing home. Her accented English spoke to the person on the other end.
We’ve got him…the school will open soon, and I’ll get our boy and come home. The captain will give me the rest of the day off, but I will need to give a statement, most likely… After a pause, her drawn face broke into a smile. Thanks, honey. I’ll do that. Put some wine on to chill, and we’ll go to the rally tonight. She hung up the cell phone, and looked around at the surreal scene playing out around her. As bodies were hauled away on stretchers, her Captain approached the car, and told her to go home. There would be a rally that night, a peaceful protest. She might be needed on duty, and she was to rest. She was several months pregnant, though, so rest was really not an option, but she let herself out of the car, and decided to walk the few short blocks to the parking lot where she’d parked. After securing her rifle in its case and then in the trunk, she got in carefully, and picked up her cell. She sent off a quick tweet to her American friends…
“terror never wins. #jesuischarlie”. Then she sighed deeply, backed out, and headed for the nursery school to pick up her son before she went home. Paris was a new place today for it’s native daughter.
As she drove past the boulevard where the police scene was still playing out, she said a quiet prayer for the souls, and then she went cold as the bells of Notre Dame rang out 4 pm. She wouldn’t cry, but later, she might drown her sorrows in some chocolate.
Translation: 1-"I need a confirmation on the target".
2-"I have him in my left periphreal."
3-"Take the shot."
4-"Arrest him! Medic! Medic!"
Charles de Gaulle Airport
Industrial Complex
Maggie Lefevbre was on full alert. The stone-cold assassin-well, at work-was waiting on a Parisian baker's rooftop. She would be eagle-eyes for the Prefecture du Police.
Today, two men had bombed a newspaper. Nobody bombed news outlets when Mags was in town. She’d just come off a major arrest and was in full-on perp catching mode.
Her earpiece buzzed.
Maggie , je ai besoin de confirmation sur la cible The voice of the captain. She sighed, but replied, her voice tense.
Monsieur, Je l'ai dans mon peripherial gauche She waited, and the voice came again.
Prenez le coup de feu.. She nodded again. She would take the shot; once to the head and once to the chest. Surely a kill shot; he was not meant to live. She raised her rifle, and after a fast, deep breath, she closed her right eye, and squeezed the trigger. “Whoosh”…1700 mph, a bullet sailed through the air, and, from her rooftop vantage point, Maggie saw the satisfying spurts of blood. BOOM! Shot two…and she was off the roof as fast as she’d fired. She scrambled down, and was on the ground as her Captain yelled in French.
Les arrêter ! Medic ! Medic ! She slung the rifle over her shoulder-it was never a good day when Maggie had to shoot someone, even if they deserved little justice. They still deserved justice…deserved to answer for their crimes. However, she wasn’t in charge of this scene, so she got the hell out of the way, ducking into the back of a police car, and dialing home. Her accented English spoke to the person on the other end.
We’ve got him…the school will open soon, and I’ll get our boy and come home. The captain will give me the rest of the day off, but I will need to give a statement, most likely… After a pause, her drawn face broke into a smile. Thanks, honey. I’ll do that. Put some wine on to chill, and we’ll go to the rally tonight. She hung up the cell phone, and looked around at the surreal scene playing out around her. As bodies were hauled away on stretchers, her Captain approached the car, and told her to go home. There would be a rally that night, a peaceful protest. She might be needed on duty, and she was to rest. She was several months pregnant, though, so rest was really not an option, but she let herself out of the car, and decided to walk the few short blocks to the parking lot where she’d parked. After securing her rifle in its case and then in the trunk, she got in carefully, and picked up her cell. She sent off a quick tweet to her American friends…
“terror never wins. #jesuischarlie”. Then she sighed deeply, backed out, and headed for the nursery school to pick up her son before she went home. Paris was a new place today for it’s native daughter.
As she drove past the boulevard where the police scene was still playing out, she said a quiet prayer for the souls, and then she went cold as the bells of Notre Dame rang out 4 pm. She wouldn’t cry, but later, she might drown her sorrows in some chocolate.
Translation: 1-"I need a confirmation on the target".
2-"I have him in my left periphreal."
3-"Take the shot."
4-"Arrest him! Medic! Medic!"
