Vae Victus [Volume 1] [WOE TO THE VANQUISHED]

Chapter 15

I wiped the blood and the brain matters from my face with the white cotton napkin. Everyone in the restaurant was screaming. I put my gun on the table. It was a Glock, not my usual Sig Sauer P229. I cheated on John, and I cheated on my baby. I was an evil, unfaithful woman. People started to run out of the room. Run little girls, run.

I stared at the corpse of the woman in front of me. Her long and immaculate dark hair flowed red. She slumped forward with her face down on the table. I could see the big hole at the back of her head. I could not see it, but her pretty face had been blown away too. I could see via the hole that the bullet went through her entire head. A tunnel inside Anastasia Karpov's head. One flayed reptile. Well, she won't hurt John ever again.

The police were here. I raised my arms in surrender. They were screaming. "Freeze!" "Hands up!" "Behind your head" "On your knees" "Do not move" Police and their contradictory commands. Do you want me to move my hands up and behind my head and kneel or do you want me to freeze and not move?

I could not blame them. The sight was brutal. I sat in one of the finest restaurants in town. Anastasia sat across the table. She had food on her side of the table.  Full wine glass next to it. There was nothing on my side of the table but a gun and a mobile phone.

I had managed to put a bow and tie on the entire murder case. The smoking gun, or so they said in movies. The police cuffed my hands behind my back, and this time, John would not be able to get me out of this one.

The on-duty sergeant booked me and an officer took me to my cell. It was small, damp and smelling of piss. There were already a group of men inside the cell. They stared at me creepily. Well, it would be creepy if I was not the biggest monster in the tiny cell. Though I walk through the valley of death, I would fear no evil. Because evil is my bitch and I spank her raw every night.

It took John a few hours to finally get his lawyers to see me. We spoke for a few minutes and he left. His overpriced lawyers could not get me out on bail. I was the main and only suspect for the murder of Anastasia Karpov, the CEO of Ben-Gurion charitable foundation. I carried an unlicensed gun into a public place, and that alone was worth some jail time. Murder one would be much worse. Well, at least there is no death penalty in New York. I would just rot in jail for the rest of my life.

The night was peaceful. Not externally. A few of the prisoners got handsy with me and I had to rearrange a few noses and kicked a few balls. They put me on a single empty cell afterward. It was peaceful inside my head. It was as if I turned deaf, emotionally. Shellshocked. That was what the old G.I. in World War 2 used to call it.  They called it PTSD these days. Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. I could not feel anything. I was, once again, completely hollow.

I could not sleep in my new cell, my minds kept replaying everything in my head. One person kept popping up. John Ben-Gurion. My love, I am so sorry.