The Badass Saved Everyone's Ass

Chapter 3: I'm breaking into that bastard's house.

Chapter 3: I'm breaking into that bastard's house.

I slept with my gun last night.

I'm sitting on the couch now.

Swoosh.

I'm sharpening all of my knifes right now. I have twenty of them, all different sizes. I have nine guns, one being a machine gun.

Why did they take Dillon and Kyle if they're assassins?

News is out that I'm killing off people that piss me off, and people are scared. Well, that isn't the actual news. The actual news is that there is an assassin in Tampa and I kill people that do bad things.

People think if they drop something in the store, I'll slit their throat.

It's quite amusing.

The number is 1,767.

It's skyrocketing.

I'm taking notes of this gang. They only take people that are not wrinkly. They have anyone they can get. I guess they don't care if they're assassins.

The porn is so bad that it's on google. It's so popular it's disgusting.

Almost all of the gang members have dark hair. They're all men, aside from a few women. They don't have many men. Most of the people are women.

I count all the men. 162. There are a hundred and sixty two men and 1,565 women.

I can only imagine what they're making those women do.

I shudder at the thought and continue taking notes. Most of the women have blue or green or brown eyes. No hazel or gray.

I look up the suspected target and see some nasty old man with pale skin. He looks like Carlyle from Twilight.

I snort.

I'm so funny.

Most of the people are disappearing from major cities like Los Angeles or New York or Tampa or Denver or Chicago. They get spotted, all going to the same state.

It seems they're all going to Maryland.

I narrow my eyes slightly.

I think there might be something bigger with this. What if they're planning on doing something? What if they're scaring the shit out of these people for sex and then making them join an army, and they'll blow up the Whitehouse or something.

I bite my lip for a long time, thinking.

I google threats to the government.

The first threat is a death threat to the president.

It makes sense. They plan to kill the president.

I press images and I see a meeting with the president talking, and the screen behind him got hacked and all it says is 4,000.

Four thousand? What?

The government is trying desperately to figure it out.

They must be connected.

Who would want the president dead?

I sigh heavily.

Swoosh. Swoosh. Swoosh. Swoosh.

I keep sharpening the knife so hard that it makes sparks.

I do this with all of my knifes and then I put them away and write out my theory.

I slip my butterfly knife in my boot and cross my arms.

Then it clicks. Four thousand is for how many people they will get before they kill the government.

What do they want to do, take over America?

I was joking to myself, but my eyes widen when I realize that is probably exactly what they want to do.

I notice then, after much research, that every single person that is taken is either a government worker, whether is federal, state, or local, of their related to someone who is.

So that's why they took my family. I'm considered a government worker.

I'm going to take a wild guess and they that this is the exact guy that think it is. His name is Graden Jail.

I laugh at the irony in that, because his name is Jail and he is going to spend his life in one unless I find him and kill him first.

That's exactly what I plan to do.

Now, to find out where this bastard lives.

I google his address and it immediately pops up.

It's in District of Columbia, where the president lives.

I get up and change into a blood red tank top and a pushup bra, my black lether jacket, black skinny jeans, a tan belt, and I put on my combat boots and shove my butterfly knife back in it, and then I put on black gloves that cover up to the second didgit of my fingers, leathing the last didgit exposed. I grab a duffel bag. I put a first aid kit in there, my evidence journal, my laptop, and all of my weapons, and I mean all which is not just guns and knives, and I grab Mom's wallet and Charley's car keys and I walk out the door.

I'm breaking into that bastard's house.

I completely stop walking when I see an FBI agent on my porch.

"What the hell?" I ask.

"Hello Zoey." It's the same man from last night.

"What?" I ask impatiently.

"May I ask where you're going?"

"No." I walk off to Charley's car and toss my duffel bag in the passenger seat.

"Where are you going?" he finally says.

"To find my family." I say.

"Zoey, the government is trying everything-"

"Well they're not doing well enough, and I got a lead." I snap.

His eyes widen. "You do this for a living so I believe you. What is it?"

"That's for me to know, buttercup." I smile sarcastically and get in the car. I start the engine and take off before he can question me further.

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So what do you think??