Three Shots To The HeadMature

Scott and the gang of hired killers arrived in Marion less than a week after Chief Hogan arrested the two drivers and confiscated the large shipment of marijuana. Three days later after scouting the town and getting familiar with the everyday routine of the tiny 15 person police department, the heavily armed and military trained gunmen opened fire on the police building in a violent clash that left three police officers badly wounded and most of the rest hospitalized. The first attack took place at the fire station as the gunmen retrieved the shipment. Upon entering the building and wounding the young Corporal on duty, Frank and two of the gunmen hurriedly emptied the contents from the U-Haul into the bed of the two dual cab trucks.

 

Around 5:30 a.m., Scott and David Bristol, a well trained explosive expert, quickly approached the rear of the police station from the alley. Since they knew the routine of the police officers, they waited outside for the shift change. During shift change, the officers met inside the small police station to exchange notes, get updates, and to receive the daily shift assignments. This would be the perfect time to strike. Scott decided to sit up in front of the police station across Washington Avenue. He broke into the rear of Martha’s General Store and took position on the roof of the building. From up there he could see everything, the police building, the fire station, the main street and the spot where David hid. He quickly raised his hand to signal David.

 

Mitchell Davenport and two of the men ran to the jail house. It was located down the street from the police station on East Lafayette. This early in the morning, Marvin Orland is only one jailer on duty. Dressed in a stolen police uniform, Mitchell tricked the jailer to open the door, shot him in the chest and the men quickly retrieved the two drivers from the confinements of the cell. ‘Man, I’m glad to see you guys. I knew Mr. Frank wouldn’t forget about us,’ happily Billy stated while following closely behind the gunman. Within a few minutes, the group returned to the firehouse to help finish loading the truck.

 

After hiding the last of C4 bombs, David glanced at the face of his watch. It read 5:48 am. The first officer usually arrived at 5:50 a.m.; then the rest would trickle in later. The shift meeting started at 6:00 am on the dot every morning. Because of the small weekend crew on Monday morning, six officers arrived for the shift meeting. David remained motionless in the bushes counting the police cars as they parked on the lot. The watch dial read 5:59 a.m. and Chief Hogan’s cruiser, the last car to arrive, pulled into the lot. He parked and quickly walked inside. Suddenly, David cell phone flashed a text message. That was the signal; it was time to get to work. He gripped the detonator, waited for a few seconds; then squeezed.

 

Corporal Stacie King spoke as soon as the chief entered to building, ‘Morning Chief, how was your day off?’ She worked for the police department for eight years but recently decided to take the desk job because she was pregnant with her first child. ‘The fax from New Orleans is in the folder on your desk with all of the other notes you wanted.’

 

He quickly thanked her and briskly walked down the short hall into the meeting room. ‘Good Morning, people, grab a chair because we got a lot of information to cover. The New Orleans Police Department informed me that we might have some trouble coming our way.’ Before the chief could finish his sentence, suddenly there was a rumbling, as if a train were going past, then the first bomb loudly exploded. ‘Boom’; the east wall and part of the ceiling crashed down on top of Corporal King pinning her underneath the rubble. Seconds later, four more loud explosions and the rest of the police building violently rumbled and then quickly collapsed into a pile of rubble. The walls of the red brick police station imploded and in the process, none of the officers were able to flee to safety from inside the building. The unexpected explosion buried the entire on duty police department and shut down the communication to the outside world for the police. Marion stood helpless and at the mercy of these contract killers. The collapse, which occurred about 6 a.m., also brought down parts of two neighboring buildings on the eastern side of the police station. Seconds later, the whole area was covered in a haze of dusk and smoke.

 

With the entire Marion police force immobilized, the men retreated to the nearby fire station and joined their comrades. As they were leaving the fire station, they were engaged by some of the local residents that heard the commotion. However, after throwing four hand grenades, the gunman continued their escape down highway 5. Meanwhile, in Marion, there was a lot of blood on the street. Some civilians were badly hurt from the exploding grenade. Milton Adkins was killed when the fleeing truck ran into him as he stood in the street firing shots from his hunting rifle at them. Kate and her baby Allison were hid by flying fragments from the grenades and were rushed to hospital. The police station was destroyed and nine officers lay hurt under the rubble as everyone in town came to lend a hand a dig the victims out. Corporal King, Jailer Marvin, Officer Steadman were admitted to the Intensive care unit of Hospital in stable but critical condition.  

 

Soon, the two trucks were safely out of Marion and headed west on Highway 5. Five hours later, the group of men arrived in Louisiana. The trucks dropped some of the men from the recon team off at their various locations, and then David, Scott, Billy and Adam headed to the house to see Mr. Riggers. The group arrived at the property deep out in middle of the Bayou. Because the house was a distance from the parking area, they parked the truck and took the short walk down the wooded path to the house. As the men arrived to the half way point to the house, David shot Billy twice in the back of the head with a .38-caliber pistol. With each powerful blast from the snub nosed gun, clods of brain matter flew out of his damage skull. His limp body quickly fell to the ground with a loud thump.

 

Surprised and frightened by what just happen to his friend, Adam decided to run for his life down the road leading to the two-story home. However, Frank Riggers stepped forward from the unseen hiding spot behind a large Pine tree. When the scared driver ran by the tree, Frank fired a shotgun blast into the right leg of the young man. The force of the blast took off a portion of the victim’s leg. Looking down at the blood and the exposed muscles of his damaged leg, Adam realized that he was facing certain death. He desperately pleaded for some time to pray to God. Being somewhat religious, the ruthless drug boss decided to grant the young man’s dying request. Mr. Riggers gave the man three minutes to pray. After 45 seconds of prayer, Scott unloaded three shots into the base of Adam’s skull.

 

"I told him he could have three minutes. What happened," Frank demanded.

 

"What happen was," a tired Scott answered while pointed the gun at the flinching body. ‘I got tired of hearing him talk. The little bitch talked all the way back from Alabama. He would not shut up, for nothing. He bitched and moan about this and that. Every hour, he wanted to stop to use the restroom. He got on my last nerve.’ Suddenly, the dying man groaned as he took his last breath. ‘See, on the fucking ground dying and he still want shut up.’ Scott rapidly fired three more shots into the corpse. ‘I bet you money that will shut you up,’ he said to the dead man.

 

Frank could not keep from laughing. Scott was scary but the last comment was stupid. Later, the three men retrieved some towels from the house, wrapped them around the blood-soaked heads of their victim: then stabbed the dead bodies in the heart to stop the blood from pumping. Using two sharp chainsaw, some other cutting tools and great skill, the men cut up the bodies for disposal to the waiting alligators in the Bayou.   

 

Hours later, Scott and David drove the two trucks to the barn on the east end of the property and unloaded the marijuana. ‘Frank from the looks of it, we got most of it back. I think there was some in the police station when David blew it up.’ The men finished unloading the marijuana. Later after returning to his office to get two motorcycles, they drove the two trucks to Lake Pontchartrain and dumped the vehicles in the bottom of the lake and returned to the office.

The End

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