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Shark Bait

Threats

By Cleve Taylor Published 3 years ago 4 min read
2
Shark Bait
Photo by Francesco Califano on Unsplash

Shark Bait

Garrett sat at the red light on Bel Pre Road, waiting for a green light so he could turn right on Georgia Avenue to pick up the Inter County Connector, a half mile to the north. As he waited, the radio aired Bobby Darin’s oldie, “Mack the Knife''. The lines, “Oh the shark dear, has such teeth dear, and he keeps them pearly white,” brought a smile to his lips. “How appropriate,” he thought, “We predators need to stick together. There’s a Great White Shark on his way to West Virginia with a big surprise for a bully boy.”

Garrett had accepted an off the books wet job to rid the country of a nuisance that had been threatening to assassinate one of the most powerful senators in Washington. He hadn’t been caught breaking enough laws for a Federal arrest, and locals protected him and probably hoped that he would follow through with his threat. It was one of those cases where the bad guy was well known but clever enough to stay out of jail. He called himself a collector, and as a collector owned a large arsenal of weapons, all legally purchased. There was no doubt that he had the means to mete out death if he so chose. The senator chose to deal with him on his own terms and not be forever looking over his shoulder for an assailant.

The dossier on the target showed an angry man who blamed government and socialists for the ills that had befallen him over the years. The government took his child away from him for abuse. As he was quoted, “The boy needed a good whipping.” Pictures taken at the hospital showed whip lashes across the boy’s back and a broken arm. Instead of college, the target got his post high school training in the state penitentiary, that, too, was the government's fault. He considered assaulting an uppity college student to be his civic duty. In the pen, he found friends and a name for what he was, a White Supremacist.

He developed leadership skills while incarcerated. After his release he sought out others of his ilk and created the SEC, which he said in private conversations meant the Socialists Eradication Club. He, emboldened by far right news personalities, believed that Washington was filled by socialists who ran a porno ring of pedophiles. He thought of himself as a patriot soldier and regretted that he had not been in Washington on January 6 to help “Stop the Steal.”

It was with this knowledge that Garrett, after three hours driving in heavy Friday evening traffic, pulled into a Burger King for a Whopper and a pee before implementing his extermination plan. He ate in his car while he studied the map on his tablet’s GPS.

The target met with his SEC cronies at a bar on Friday nights after they got off their jobs, and more importantly after they got their paychecks. Scantily clad hostesses saw more of their paychecks than did their wives. Assuming his information was correct, Garrett was only fifteen minutes away from the bar, and the target should already be in the bar.

Garrett took his time because it would be hours before the target would present himself to the reticle of his scoped and silenced Remington rifle, but he needed to see the layout of the parking lot for himself, and position himself for a good shot and easy exit from the parking lot.

The reconnaissance he had on the bar was excellent. Even the target's Ford pick-up truck was parked within a few spaces of where it had been parked in the photos he had. Garrett backed his rental into a parking space that gave him a lighted view of the area between the door of the bar and the target’s pick-up. Lighting was good enough that a night vision scope would not be required. An associate had rented the car for him under an assumed name, so it made no difference if anyone saw the car. An orange baseball cap and dark framed glasses with clear glass lenses comprised his disguise, and surgeons gloves which he had been wearing since he picked up the car eliminated the possibility of fingerprints. Garrett was ready.

The target did not emerge from the bar until 12:47. He stood talking with two men until 12:51. He was five feet away from the driver's side of his pick-up at 12:54. At 12:54 and 7 seconds his brains splattered against his pick-up.

By 12:55, before anyone realized what had happened, Garrett casually drove away from the parking lot and headed for the Interstate. As he drove, he softly sang to himself, “Oh the shark babe, has such teeth dear…..”

Short Story
2

About the Creator

Cleve Taylor

Published author of three books: Ricky Pardue US Marshal, A Collection of Cleve's Short Stories and Poems, and Johnny Duwell and the Silver Coins, all available in paperback and e-books on Amazon. Over 160 Vocal.media stories and poems.

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