The family cowered in the closet as they heard their walls splintering around them. Kasandra pulled her brother, Cody in close, as their mother, Dorothy Scott, held the door shut, white-knuckled and whimpering.
"What do they want?!" Kasandra asked Mom.
"I don't know, honey," Dorothy said through grit teeth.
The door exploded as the tip of a large blade smashed through, raining splinters over the huddled trio. Cody burried his face in his sister's lap, all the while, Kasandra did everything within her power to shrink as small as possible into the closet's corner.
"Where are you, Robert?" Dorothy mumbled under her breath as the blade of an axe burst through the wood of the door. Her children cried in fear; shrill screams that curdled her blood and made her feel helpless.
"Mrs. Scott," came a voice from outside the door, "We don't want to hurt you," it assured.
Funny. Why is it those bent on your capture with axes and bullets always smudged the truth about your immenent death?
"What do you want with us!??" Dorothy shouted through the door.
"TO ask some questions, that's all!" came her reply.
"With a bloody axe?!" she challenged, "You're full of crap!"
A pop rang out, like a firecracker in a lunch-box. Then another, and another. Urgent cries for cover bellowed from their axe weilding assailant, just as another pop rented the air. The light coming from under the door went dark as the body fell, a slick pool spilling beneath the crack.
"Dad?" Cody whimpered.
"I don't know Cody, shush!" Dorothy pressed.
"This wasn't your war, Robert!" came the voice. Shots were fired, and there was silence. The body outside of the door was dragged away, and someone tried the door knob. Dorothy held it with everything she had.
"Dot, honey!" came a man's voice, "It's me, Bob."
"How do I know it's you?"
"Are Kasandra and Cody with you?"
There was a sigh, "Thank God!"
"Are we safe?"
"No, Dotty, we're not. we have to get out of here right away! Now, let me in,"
"I'm afraid to open the door,"
"I know, honey, I know," the voice sounded like Bob's.
"Mom, it's daddy!" Cody said, "Open the door,"
Kasandra's blues eyes were pleading, her blonde hair slick with sweat, her face creased in fear.
"Ok," she said, relaxing her grip on the door handle.
The door opened and Robert's face greeted them.
Cody was first out of the door to take his father's neck in a tight, nearly choking, embrace - doing all he could to get his arms around the FBI labeled flack jacket. Kasandra was next jumping over her father and kissing him.
Dorothy Scott stood, dishrevelled, soot-faced and ragged and cried openly as Robert stood up to hold her.
Robert Scott's handy work littered the floor, as bloodstained men lay everywhere, knives, axes and gun strewn among the puddles of crimson.
"Is it over, dad?" Kasandra asked.
"I'm afraid not, honey," Bob answered.
"Who were these men?" Dorothy asked him.
"Men connected to the FBI," Bob responded frankly, "Well connected too. IT seems someone at the Bureau wants us dead,"
"What?!" Dorothy ran her sore hands through her hair, now sweat matted and knotted, "Why?"
"That's what I intend to find out!"