It was a warm Saturday night, a good night for a party.
It was Henni's birthday, Henni and the socwok celebrated heavily, Betty carried them both to bed.
It was a warm Saturday night, a good night for a party, a moonless night.
It was the birthday of the leader, the leader of the OK-Gang. Does OK mean organised crime or odious corruption? Every member of the gang was there, and several politicians, police chiefs, bishops, generals and other well known, corrupt members of the elite.
Betty drove the large, black, stolen pickup truck, she was wearing a black tutu and a headcam. She stopped about a kilometre from the club house, inconveniently and deliberately located in the middle of nowhere.
Mike threw the drone into the air and they waited in the dark, they could hear the loud partying in the club house. The drone criss-crossed the area around the club house, after five minutes its heat-sensitive camera delivered a detailed map of the club house and the location of three guards.
It was Betty's job to take out the guards, Betty did not need the map, she always followed the hate, but Mike insisted on his toys.
Betty terminated the guards and Mike searched for the electricity generator and the gas tank. Betty waited outside the clubhouse for the lights to go out.
A young man ran out, emptied an automatic rifle into the air and threw it into the bushes. Idiot thought Betty. The man went back inside.
Two men came out through another door and fought – great fun. One drew a pistol and killed the other. End of fight. Betty was careless, she moved out of cover to watch the fight.
A very large and very corrupt and very drunk and very well-known politician staggered out of the first door to get some fresh air. He belched and threw up down his front – disgusting – fresh air was not good for him.
He caught sight of Betty, he stared at the little girl in a tutu. Disgusting thought Betty, she would not break his heart, just disgusting. She jumped up and punched his face to the back of his head. The politician collapsed like a felled tree. EOP.
The lights died, the music stopped, Betty ran into the clubhouse and broke hearts with both fists. Betty stopped counting at twenty, the hate level was down. Betty stomped on a few necks and moved to the next room.
Someone had lit a candle, a bishop wearing a blouse and a pea-green, pleated miniskirt danced across the room to Betty. He held his hands out, he wanted to throttle little Betty. Betty rocketed her fist vertically to connect with his jaw and knock his head off. His headless body fell to the floor. EOB. His head rolled across the room.
Betty felt vibrations in her cleavage, the timer told her that five minutes was up and that she should get the hell out of there. She ran to the truck and Mike floored it.
Mike drove as fast as he could, they could hear small explosions at the clubhouse, a big one that was the gas tank and the crackle of a burning ammunitions store. They both felt good, though they were drenched in blood. Betty put her hand on Mike's knee, he was too technical and nerdy and useless in bed, but Betty liked him. They were both very happy.
The happiness drained out of Betty in a second, why was the socwok looking at her like that, what was wrong? Betty had never seen the socwok look like this before. What had Betty done wrong? The socwok picked up Betty and carried her to the bathroom and put her in the shower. She took off Betty's blood-drenched tutu and threw it in the bath tub. She leaned over the lavatory and threw up. The two of them were not a pretty sight.
The socwok washed Betty, she dried her carefully, dressed her wounds and rubbed sports gel into her bruises. She carried Betty to bed. Betty expected the socwok to throw her onto the bed and jump on her. The socwok was very gentle, but firm. The socwok was very heavy on top of her, Betty's face was trapped in the socwok's cleavage. Betty understood the message:
You are not going anywhere!