Jaguar #2

Posted: May 13, 2020 in Blogverse, Jaguar
Tags: , ,

How long ago was it since she’d slept in that King sized bed. Her prized possession, a stuffed Jaguar she killed herself, rested in the corner of her room. She gazed at its sharp teeth and mighty claws as she lie there in her husband’s arms.  “Thabo, my love,” Mamoketsi said, “Are you at peace with Sifiso? I’d never seen you disagree with him before.”  

She felt her husband’s chest shake as he laughed. “Sifiso is a snake in the grass. Better to have the snake in your own garden where you can keep an eye on him.”

“But he has been our friend for years?”

Thabo looked around the room at the ornate paintings and sculptures that decorated the room. “Money paid for all this, not friendship.”

“But the Russians have money too,” Mamketsi said, recalling a secret deal that Thabo turned down. “And they have influence everywhere.”

Holding her close, Thabo said “We play a dirty game Mamoketsi, make no mistake of that. But it is our game to play, in our own yard. If we play on a board too big, eventually, all our pieces will be knocked away.”

At that Mamoketsi heard a sound, it was the sound of something smashing, like one of her plant pots outside hitting the ground. “What was that?” she asked.

“Shhh,” Thabo held his finger to his lips. His eyes gazed out the window as his ears strained to hear outside. Another sound shot through the night air, “prat prat prat”, they both knew it was the sound of gunfire.

Mamoketsi immediately sprung from the bed. Just as quickly Thabo slipped on a pair of trousers. His wife moved towards the closet when he said “Wait” Through the curtains at the window, they both could see the shadow of a man on their balcony. Mamoketsi got down on her hands and knees, continuing to crawl toward the closet. Glancing back at her husband he saw the shadow fall to the ground and let out a gasp in pain.

Thabo instantly opened the door to find Vincent, his security chief, bleeding from the gut. The sounds of gunfire crackled louder through the open door. “Vincent!” Thabo cried out to his life-long friend. Vincent looked up at him, “Board filled, too many pieces.” Thabo cradled him in his arms, he cried for just a moment before grabbing his fallen friend’s machine gun. Raising up to peer over the balcony, he looked back at his bride, now dressed in a robe, herself armed with an AK-47. He was always so proud of her. She was like her prized Jaguar, fast and deadly, a true warrior spirit, but he could not bear the thought of losing her the same night he lost his friend. “Stay here!” He pleaded, before leaping off the second story balcony onto the terrace below.

Thabo must have known his Jaguar would not stay put. Only a moment later she heard gunfire from the first floor. She cracked her bedroom door open to find two men coming up the stairwell. Immediately they were struck down by her gunfire.

Jaguar could hear her husband firing outside. The garden they both planted was now filled with the screams of the fallen enemy.  Approaching her stairwell a wave of gunfire swept above her as she rolled out of the way. Finding her way to the starwell another intruder awaited below. He looked up to see Mamoketsi, her robe partially opened during the action. She smiled as he stopped in his tracks to give an admiring glance, before shooting him in the head. 

Outside, bodies were everywhere. Across the garden she could see Thabo crouched down behind a marble horse statue. He fired a few shots off in the distance. Then, she saw him. Sifiso fired a few shots off into the air. She was relieved as he rushed to his aid. She always knew him to be honest, he was a rook to his King, perhaps now, she reasoned, Thabo could see the error in judgement. 

Instead, Thabo was met with a bullet. Mamoketsi would cry out, shocked at the betrayal of the long time friend who fired the fatal shot, but her body made no such sound as a bullet struck her in the gut. Somewhere off in the distance, an unknown assailant had tagged her. She crumpled to the ground, her eyes leerily looking up at the home that they built, now filled with bullet holes and broken glass. The blood of Vincent dripping still dripping from the balcony was her last sight before blacking out. 

Her gut wound still hurt as she lay in the gurney. In this secret location, whereever it was, a television monitor hung close to her. On that screen was an image that made her recoil, it was the man she knew took her love away from her. “Who are you people?” she asked. The last thing she remembered she was laying in the prison shower. She wasn’t able to deduce where she was, but she knew she was no longer behind bars. 

Wherever she was, she was surrounded by people working at computers, others walked around carrying briefcases and files. Finally, someone answered. Mamoketsi, your reputation proceeds you. He spoke english, sounded Portugeues. He had dark skin, but not black like hers. Maybe he was Brazillian. “I hope that bed is more comfortable than  the ones they have in prison.” 

“What do you want.” 

Pointing to her the man said “I got that silk blanket straight from India.” 

“What do you want?”

“I see you know Sifiso.” The mystery man said pointing to the screen. “How would you like to help bring him to justice.”

Hope everyone has been keeping safe. Here in the states some places are re-opening but we’re not out of the woods yet. In the meantime thanks for checking this story out. Come back in 30 for issue #3. Jaguar gets out in the field, will she follow orders, or will she seek her own justice?

Next week is the Lights of Mirigan #2. What are the strange lights over Melbourne, and how do they connect with the local extremist group?

The Flying Fox returns in two weeks. Diego has stumbled in the world of Underground Fighting, will he survive to tell the tale?

In three weeks, the blogverse most popular tale returns in Ghost City #3.  Jennifer meets some of the other foreigners in her new home. What insight will they ad to the mysterious goings on? 

In the meantime, take care and be safe.

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