Same-sex marriage is now the law of the land, but in the hearts and minds of some, it's just one more reminder of how much they've lost to the other side. In Birmingham, two dedicated people have waited for years to get married in their home state of Alabama, and now that day is finally here. But will the haters let them have their day, or will anger erupt into violence and destroy their happiness forever? Not if Birmingham's best bodyguard, aka the Undercover Groomsman, has anything to say about it!
I was five feet away from my target when the last round left my weap-on, slamming into the center of the target's forehead and cutting a clean hole in the paper. I'd started firing from fifteen yards out and all of my shots were within an inch of each other. Pretty good, if I do say so myself. Of course, here on the range, there was nobody firing back.
There was still shooting taking place on either side of me and I waited for it to cease before pushing my ear protectors up on the sides of my head. To my right, a small white male in his early thirties sporting light facial hair, wearing jeans, a green polo, and brown hik-ing boots. To my left, a small black female in her late twenties, close-cropped afro, wearing jeans, a black long sleeve man's military style shirt with the sleeves rolled up on her forearms and the tails hanging out, and unpolished side-zip black combat boots.
Frankie Burrage and Sheila, no last name that I have ever known. To look at them passing on the street, you'd probably never guess that these two were among the most effective and prolific killers you never wanted to meet. But if you've ever seen them shoot, in practice or in actuality, there would be no doubt. Hopefully you'd never be one of their targets. Or mine for that matter.
Frankie had once been the top trigger-puller for Birming-ham's former Godfather of Crime, the late Innes Redbone. He'd been the only Caucasian in Redbone's inner circle, and one of the few to have survived the purge after he was killed a few years ago, a case that was still unsolved, and probably always would be because it was a sure bet that Birmingham Homicide detectives were not clocking a lot of overtime hours trying to crack it.
Sheila, even though I have known her for several years now, was still largely a mystery to me. We were introduced by a mutual acquaintance when I needed help on a job. Coincidentally, that job involved Innes Redbone, at least peripherally. I was very impressed with the young woman's work, and the quick intelligence behind her dark eyes, so when other things came up later, I gave her a call, through our mutual friend, to see if she was interested. These days, I just called her direct.
I called Frankie direct, too, and when he wasn't off freelancing on something else, he worked for me when I needed him.
I took a few steps back and checked out their targets. Tight groupings on either side, which I expected no less.