Sister Sophia

by Mongoose750

Ricardo Sanchez thought there was something strange about Sister Sophia, but he didn’t know what.

He had nothing against nuns, they were dedicated to their work, and help people. They have done that for years. He had found out there were some in his gang who had fantasies about nuns, and what they would like to do with them, but that was not him. He was raised better than that. Nuns deserved, and received, his utmost respect. Nor was Sophia the first nun he’d met. In the past few years, he had met plenty of nuns.

So what was so strange about Sister Sophia?

She was tall for one thing. That sounded silly, because she couldn’t help being tall, anymore than his uncle Marty couldn’t help being short. Perhaps it wasn’t the height so much, as it was the build that went with it. He couldn’t see anything through those nun clothes, a habit may be what they’re called, but it looked like she may at least have the build of a basketball player. Maybe she played a few games for recreation from where she’s from.

That was another strange thing. Thanks to a local priest several years ago, the local gangs would show up at the church in the middle of town, a “no-fly zone” for all gangs for an annual, or as needed, “peace conference.” Despite the intent, they were usually called war councils. The gang leaders would negotiate, pass their own laws, and settled disagreements. One might scoff at that, but because of it, there were less shootings, and the police were not as busy as they once were.

But the strange thing was Sophia was brought over from Italy, from some nunnery that only other nuns would have heard of. Ricardo considered his gang almost like family, but he didn’t think they were important enough to catch the attention of the Vatican. Sophia had explained she wasn’t from the Vatican, but a nunnery around the outskirts of Italy, and she was here to help. Ricardo thought the priests and nuns at home were doing a fine job, why import? Father Sullivan seemed as surprised as everyone else that she was here.

Another strange thing was, well as silly as it sounds, Sister Sophia didn’t move like a nun. He would feel like a fool trying to explain it to other folks, but Sophia didn’t do the usual small steps, quick bow, etc, the typical moves nuns make. Sophia moved more like a cat, every move deliberate, and so soft, no one knows she’s around until they turn around and see her. A few of the men from both gangs, the priest, and other nuns had been startled at least once when they turn around and see her appear from nowhere. One of his officers told him she moved so quietly because she wasn’t wearing shoes, just tan or usually black stockings on her feet. Sophia’s explanation was there were orders of nuns, Ricardo couldn’t think of the name. It was spelled and sounded similar to caramel. Anyway, they were an order of nuns who do their tasks barefoot. There was a long history behind that, but Ricardo didn’t need to know that. He wasn’t joining the order.

The biggest thing that Ricardo had with Sophia was she didn’t seem to act like a nun, whatever that meant. While the others in the church would offer a soft compromise, Sophia would be more blunt, like a hammer, regarding what should be done. This had angered the leader of the Werewolves a few times to the point of him leaping over the table and beating the woman. Ricardo had seen the look in her eye, daring him to do something. Nuns don’t do that! He wasn’t sure if she expected the man to be struck by lightning, or what. There was another time during the conference where one of his men, Rico, a heartthrob, or at least he thought so, once looked at Sophia either because he was bored, or he also had one of those longtime fantasies about nuns. Sophia him looking, turned and gave him a seductive smile, and winked. She winked! Rico was caught off-guard, and Rico clearly knew nuns do not do that!

Sister Sophia was clearly a mystery, however, there was a bigger one at the moment.

One of his right-hand men was dead.

Merle, otherwise known as “Merlin,” was found dead two days ago in an alley. From what Ricardo knew, it looked like he was killed first, then deposited in the alley. What was unusual about it was he was beaten, then finished off with a neck break. The police had asked him and the leader of the Werewolves if they had any men who were in the military at one time. The reason being they would have the technique involved to deliver such an execution.

“And I’m telling ya, I didn’t do it!” The leader of the Werewolves, Bishop Cundiff said loudly at the next meeting. “There’s no reason why I would do it, especially if I’m going to be the prime suspect!” He turned to Sophia, who’ve been eyeing him. “You have something to say, Sister? You’re looking at me like I have a third eye or something.”

Sister Sophia just looked at him and said calmly. “Be careful what you say, Bishop, the Lord sees everything we do.”

“Well in that case, he knows I didn’t do it. Perhaps you can ask him in your prayers tonight who did. I was out with the boys watching the ball game and having a few beers.”

“And you told this to the police,” Father Sullivan asked.

“Of course, there’s nothing to hide. In fact, if I wanted him gone, I would just walk up to him and shoot him, facing him so he knew who did it. I don’t know any of this kung fu shi- excuse me, Father, this kung fu stuff the police are talking about. One of my men has a brother in the Army, and he’s over in Germany someplace. Perhaps you’re asking questions to the wrong person here.”

As a person, every eye turned to Ricardo, the leader of the Lone Wolves.

“Merlin and I were tight, one of my right-hand men, and my friend. We’ve done a lot of things together. I’d sooner cut off my right hand than to do him like that. He has a girl and a kid he took care of. Now he’s gone,” Ricardo said.

Sister Sophia asked, “Wasn’t Merle, or Merlin next in succession to you?”

“What, you implying I or Jason offed him because he wanted to take over? Neither one of them wants it. We’re not the Mafia, Merlin’s position was just as important as mine. Oh, and one of my men has someone in the Marine Corp. She won’t be coming home until August.”

“Maybe it was done by a professional,” Valor Randall, one of the Lone Wolves said.

“Hey genius,” Bishop said, “do either of us look like we can afford a professional? And even if we could, why?”

“I don’t know. All I know is we don’t know anyone who could kill Merlin like that. Yeah, it sounds crazy, but that’s all we have.”

“Okay, we’re getting nowhere tonight. This is what I want you, both of you,” he pointed to both gangs, “to do. All of us are going to Merlin’s funeral. None of you have to say anything fancy, I just want you in whatever nice clothes you have, and pay your respects. Can you do that? Will that be a problem?”

“No Father,” Ricardo said.

“We’ll be there,” Bishop added.

“Good.”

***

After the meeting, Bishop came to Ricardo.

“Hey, Ricardo?” Bishop said.

“Yeah?” Ricardo replied.

“I know we’re on different sides and all, but I liked Merlin. I had no beef with him, know what I mean?”

“Yeah, I believe you man. Merlin stuck by the rules, and he told me at one time that we, the Wolves may be a family, but the family he had with his girl came first. I would have no reason to off someone like that.”

“Still, the big question is who did?”

“As crazy as it sounds, Valor might be right. Merlin was killed by an expert.”

“But it doesn’t make any sense. We don’t have anything the mob would want.”

Ricardo raised his hands. “I know. We got nothing. I’m going to talk to my boys, see if there’s anything to go on.”

“I’ll do the same with my men. Sorry about your loss, man.” Bishop slapped Ricardo on the shoulder, and left.

***

Once upon a time in this city, several years ago, there weren’t two street gangs, there were five or six. Some could argue that there were seven if one counted the girls’ gang, but not many did, because it was more of a social club for the girlfriends of the male gangs. Nevertheless, there were many gangs, and they were all at war. They were at war with everybody and everything, and too many innocent bystanders were in the way.

After too much conflict, too many police officers throwing their hands up in frustration, and too much blood, something had to be done. One former soldier once said it was more peaceful where he was stationed, and he was stationed in a war zone. Someone had to do something.

Father Edward Sullivan took the reins, and it could be said his life into his own hands, and created a solution. He personally invited every gang leader, and two of their chief officers to his parish to have a war council. If these gangs were going to play war, then they needed to do it right. Though it was actually a peace conference, he insisted on calling it a war council, because that would catch their attention.

The solution was considered radical, and it angered a few folks how he did it, but Father Sullivan persevered. He started by dividing the city into separate sections, with a neutral or “demilitarized” zone (he had to explain that term to a few of them). The neutral area was where the bulk of the city’s residents lived, and no one is supposed to strike there, against anyone. Regarding the territories, he came up with rules there too. If one gang wanted to strike against another gang next door, they could do so, but there were rules in order to do so. If a gang wanted to strike against another gang that was for example on the other side of town, which involved passing through the neutral zone or several gang territories, the leader would have to ask permission to pass through. Since most gangs were not too happy having a rival gang pass through their turf, going to war against another gang was a little more complicated than before, and eventually not worth the trouble. Schools, public places like malls, and such were off limits. The church, which was located in the heart of the neutral zone, was “holy ground,” and everyone took out all and any weapons before they went inside the building to a war council meeting. Father Sullivan extended that privilege to other churches as well, along with synagogues, and mosques.

The violence was greatly reduced. The citizens were happy for the fact that they could cross the street without the danger of gunfire.

There were many reasons for the reduction of the street gangs. One reason was economic. Parts of the city that used to be under fire were now nice places to live. People started moving in, stores and shops were prospering, and that also meant jobs were available. As conditions improved, a number of the gangs died off simply from neglect. If there was nothing left to fight for, why bother? The two remaining gangs obtained the territory of the defunct gangs, but that was limited. Officials saw their chance and corralled the two gangs to two parts of the city. Everything else was off limits, and the neutral zone was expanded exponentially.

Except for an occasional skirmish or two, both gangs dwelt in a comfortable peace. They still attended the war councils, but it was more of a social occasion instead of finding out who could fight where. Besides, Father Sullivan was a likeable guy. For some, he was the parental father they never had. Some of the gangbangers even attended church services every now and then.

Father Sullivan’s work had been noticed by many, and he had turned down several offers to move elsewhere. “I made this place my home, why would I leave?” He asked a bishop who mentioned the offer of another parish with some influential members and richer.

The murder of Merlin had been the first murder in four and a half years.

***

The funeral was held, and as promised, both gangs were there, along with family and friends of the deceased. Both leaders demanded that their gang dress up in suits and ties so they won’t look like thugs. “We’re there to pay respect, we don’t need to look like we were the ones who put him in the ground,” Bishop said to his group.

At the gravesite, after the service was finished, Bishop made his way over to Ricardo. He stood by Ricardo so he wouldn’t look obvious.

“Found anything?” Bishop asked in a low voice.

“Nothing, man. You?” Ricardo replied.

“No. I only had one man who could do what was done to Merlin, and he died of an overdose three years ago.”

Ricardo gave a harsh laugh. “The one man I had who could do that joined the Army. Doing great, last I heard.”

“I still don’t get it. But I’ll tell you what, if my boys ever find out who did it, they will have express orders to hand him to you.”

Ricardo for the first time looked up from looking at the freshly buried body of his friend. “Thanks man.”

Aside from the priest, family, friends, and gang members, two nuns stood in the background, seeing it all. Sister Dorothy, a young nun had been working with Father Sullivan on these “war councils” from the beginning. She was a slim Hispanic, 5'6" with short brown hair. Beside her stood Sister Sophia. Both were silent as the priest gave last rites, gave a short homily, and watched the dirt shoveled on Merlin’s remains.

***

It wasn’t often that Ricardo walked into a church other than for war council, but on this day he made an exception. The sanctuary was vacant, and this suited Ricardo fine. He knelt at a pew, not having anything to say, he just stared out into space.

“Ricardo.”

Ricardo barely caught himself from swearing out loud, and whipped his head around to see Sister Sophia smiling at him.

“Sister, you nearly scared me to death.” Ricardo looked down to see Sophia’s feet only wearing tan pantyhose. “Since you don’t wear shoes that don’t make any noise, maybe you should clear your throat, cough or something to let people know you’re coming.”

Sophia gave a warm laugh. “Sorry about that. It is normally very quiet where I come from.”

“So why don’t you wear shoes anyway? I was told you were a caramel, lite?”

Sophia laughed again. “That’s ‘Carmelite, you said it right, you just need to string them together. To be more specific, I am a discalced Carmelite.”

“Okay,” Ricardo said, looking at her blankly.

“The ‘discalced’ means unshod, or barefoot. Orders like us do that as a sign of humility. We have the option to wear sandals, and you have places like mine who are more eh, hardcore with wearing no shoes at all.”

Ricardo nodded with understanding. “Oh, I get it now. So why the nylons?”

“Despite other nuns and staff knowing what we are about, walking around barefoot still freaks them out. I found with wearing hose, it looks like we just wore shoes, and we just pulled them off, as opposed to walking around barefoot like I always do, and making a scene. Sounds crazy, I know, but I like to make my hosts feel at ease.”

“That brings up another question I had. Did the Vatican send you here?”

Sophia laughed again. “The Vatican? Oh, no, they don’t even know who I am. No, I go where I am needed to help out. It looked like everyone was fine here, but I was clearly wrong about that. Anyway, are you here to see Father Sullivan?”

“No, I just came here, uh, just because. It seemed like the right thing to do at the moment.”

“That is understandable,” Sophia agreed.

The conversation was friendly enough, but there was something about it that was off in Ricardo’s mind. He wasn’t very religious, but he had been around enough clergy to know that there was a particular way they responded. Usually they would say something about God’s plan, or something about his purpose, or something holy sounding. So far with Sister Sophia, he didn’t hear her say anything like that. Even when she explained her order, she didn’t use God’s name once. Maybe he was being paranoid.

“I know people come here when they are hurting,” Ricardo said, “and Merlin was a close friend, someone killed him, and I’m hurting.”

Sophia was standing behind the pew at first, now she came around and sat close beside Ricardo. She looked at him intensely. “As you said, he was a close friend, so you are entitled to be sad, you are entitled to be hurt, you are entitled to feel angry. You are entitled, to feel.”

Alarm bells rang in Ricardo’s mind. The way the nun sounded, if he didn’t know better, he could’ve swore she was trying to hit on him. Again, his imagination was running wild. He needed to go.

“I need to go,” he said, standing up to leave. “I thank you for your help. I’ll see you later, okay?”

“Sure. I’ll see you later, Ricardo.” Sophia flashed him another warm smile as he left.

***

It was still a couple of days until the next war council. Normally there wouldn’t be another one until next year, but under the strange circumstances of what happened, the father decided to have them more often until things were settled. Ricardo chatted with Bishop in the Neutral Zone. Still nothing. One of Bishop’s men suggested maybe Merlin was mugged and robbed. That was possible, but no mugger in their right mind would dare attack any member of the two gangs. Plus, muggers just want your money, nothing else. The obvious factor against that theory was no money was taken. The police came around asking questions, and they were still convinced a couple of gang people did it. Other than the two gangs, there were no others in any neighboring city, dismissing the theory of any new gangs invading new turf. They tried to pressure Bishop, but he stated it would be simpler to just shoot him. Plus, he liked the guy, he had no reason to kill him.

Feeling the pressure, Ricardo again went to the church. He found just sitting in the pew in silence helped a lot. This time, he sat to where he could see anyone coming. After a while, he got up and left the sanctuary. He didn’t feel like going home right away. Instead, he decided to just wander around the church. He saw the nursery, he saw where they had classes for church school, and a music room where the choir practiced. That was interesting, but what really caught his attention was a distant sound that sounded like: clank, clank, clank. Ricardo’s first thought was maybe that was some machine in the kitchen, but he wasn’t sure. He had nothing else better to do, so he went to check it out.

He followed the sound to the adjoining building. The church had a gym, and they belonged to a church athletic league. They had a basketball court, so it would make sense that they would have a weight room, where the sound was coming from. The basketball court was really nice, perhaps he should ask what he would have to do to play on a team. After this mess with Merlin was over, he’ll ask around.

There was still the clank, clank, clank, but it was no longer a mystery. However, his curiosity was prompting him to take a peek as to who this person was who was pumping iron this much. The door to the weight room had a long, narrow window on it, just a quick peek won’t hurt anything. Ricardo found himself looking around to see if the coast was clear, then he mentally kicked himself. He was just going to look.

He peeked in the window, and for the second time in so many days, Ricardo had to stop himself from swearing in church. It was Sister Sophia. She was seated on a weight machine, facing away from him fortunately, and she just finished working her arms. Now she was working on her legs. It wasn’t the fact that Sophia worked out that shocked Ricardo, it was the way she looked while she did it. She still had her wimple, or headdress on, but she had on a black tank top that had partially rode up her chest. Along with that, she was wearing black shorts, the kind that women wore while playing volleyball. And she was barefoot. Her arms and her legs were big, bigger than any nun he knew, or anyone else for that matter. The patch of skin that was revealed on her chest gave a peek at a six-pack of chest muscles.

Maybe in their cloister, they have a lot of spare time, Ricardo thought. A lot of spare time. One could hide a lot of things under a nun’s outfit. So Sister Sophia was a nun who liked to keep fit, fit enough to participate in those muscle competitions. Maybe she did, who knows?

What Ricardo did know was he was now a peeping Tom, and he needed to flee before the nun turned around, or worse, one of the staff appeared, and having to talk his way out of being arrested. That was the last thing he needed right now.

He backed away slowly, and quietly, then turned and fast walked to the nearest hallway. It was time to go home.

He was almost home when his cell phone rang. His display read “unknown number,” but he knew it was Bishop’s number. He picked it up.

“Pete! Pete Lee, he’s dead!” Bishop cried.

Ricardo had just enough awareness to avoid side-swiping a parked car. “Pete is dead? When? How?”

“I’m not sure when, either yesterday or this morning. How? Someone used him as a pinata, then dropped him on the front steps of our headquarters.”

Ricardo’s mind was racing. No one in his gang would even be stupid enough to attack a Wolverine member on their own turf, then have the audacity to drop the body at their headquarters. That would be suicidal.

“Did you call the police?” He asked.

“Yeah, I called them. They’ll come here, and find out I didn’t do it. Why would I kill my own men?” Bishop said. He was a little calmer, but not much. You should be getting a text from Father Sullivan to meet tonight. Not that he could do anything at this point, except perform another funeral.”

“You know my men didn’t do it, right?”

“I know that, and some of my more dumber people jumped to that conclusion, but they smartened up. Someone is playing us, man, and when I find him, he’s going to wish he’d never been born.”

“Not if I get him first. I’ll see you there, bye.” Ricardo stopped the car in a parking space of a fast food place and sent off a group text. As he expected, some asked why was there a meeting tonight, and he told them Pete Lee was killed. There were responses from some of them proclaiming their innocence, and a few conspiracy theories. Ricardo ignored all that, and told them to just show up tonight.

He tossed the phone onto the passenger seat, and rested his head against the steering wheel. No one even had a clue. No one out there would even have intent. There might be some logic behind the theory that the police did it, but again, why? They had them “under control,” and there was no reason to start things up. Right now, he needed to go home, eat something, relax for an hour or so, then return back to church.

***

Father Sullivan was speechless. He sat there, shaking his head, trying to grasp this latest development. He knew the answer, but he had to ask anyway. He slowly turned his head toward the Lone Wolves. Before he could ask, one of the members spoke up.

“Father, I don’t claim to be the smartest man among my homies, maybe I’m the dumbest. But even I have more than enough sense to attack the member of a gang we have a truce with, then take his body and drop it on their doorstep. I might as well shoot myself in the head, it would be easier,” Jacob Johns said.

“I think Jacob speaks for all of us,” Ricardo added. “We, both of us are convinced that this is done by someone not connected to us.”

“But why?” Father Sullivan said loudly. “All this work we’ve done, and now someone wants to ruin all of it by committing murder?”

“I feel silly doing this since we’re grown men,” Bishop began, “but I’m going to place us on curfew. Unless you’re at work, no one leaves their place after eight o’clock.”

Bishop’s men groaned, but none of them protested.

“What was Pete doing on the night he was killed?” Father Sullivan asked.

“I don’t know, I thought he was home,” Bishop said. “I had to tell his folks what happened, then I had to explain that it had nothing to do with us. He went out to grab a pizza. The pizza is still in his car. The car is in the parking lot of Lion’s Pizza. And his body was on our front doorstep.”

“He went to get a pizza, then someone grabbed him, beat him to a pulp, and threw the body at your headquarters? That’s messed up,” Valor remarked. “I still stand by my opinion that a professional is behind this.”

Bishop looked at him. “I think I’m starting to believe you.”

***

I don’t know how much longer I can do this, Ricardo thought as he and his gang stood by at Pete Lee’s funeral and burial. He told Bishop that much while Pete’s coffin was being buried.

“How do you think I feel?” Bishop replied. “Whoever’s doing it is targeting the right people.”

“What do you mean?”

“Pete was one of my lieutenants. I have two of them. Wasn’t Merlin one of your right hand people?”

Ricardo kicked at the ground, and again came close to swearing. “I didn’t even think about that. Yeah I have two lieutenants too. Well, one left anyway.”

“My other man, Devon, is out of town, visiting family. I didn’t tell him what happened yet, I’ll do that when he returns. I told him to take all the time he needs, like another week or so.”

“My man, Jason, took your advice, and nearly barricaded himself at his place. He has gizmos up all over the place. If you come within five hundred feet, he has you on video. He only comes out during the day to work, and goes straight home. He doesn’t go anywhere at night. No one can get to him.”

“So that means we’re his next targets. You know what I say to that? Let him come.” Bishop patted his right side, where he had his pistol hidden under his suit. “This piece has been my new best friend. It goes everywhere with me.”

“Even the war councils?” Ricardo asked.

“I keep it very well hidden. This man isn’t playing by the rules. I even go to bed with this thing. I haven’t done anything like that in a very long time. He lays a hand on me, I shoot it off, along with some other body parts before I end him.”

“I won’t tell. But if I am going to be next, I’m going to prepare a little surprise of my own, you can bet on that.”

Off in the distance, Ricardo saw Sisters Sophia and Dorothy in the same place as last time, watching the whole thing. They were looking his way, but soon turned to each other, and continued their conversation. It occurred to Ricardo that he never found out who sent Sophia, and what particular “need” she was summoned for. Well she got more than she bargained for.

***

Later that day, Ricardo was feeling restless. He couldn’t think of anywhere else to go, so he returned to the church. It was quiet, no people would be around, and maybe he’ll ask God to wreak vengeance on whoever is killing gang members. They were doing some work on some of the lights, so a lighting company van was parked where he wanted to park, and he didn’t want to run into anyone, so he decided to enter the back through the gym. He could shoot a few hoops, that might not be a bad idea.

He entered, and closed the door when he heard the familiar clanking sound. The weight room was being used again. He passed by, and this time, took a quick casual peek. Then he slowly backed up and peeked again.

It was Sister Sophia again, dressed similar to the last time, except she had on a black sports bra with those tight black shorts that they wear in MMA matches. There was a robe nearby that she would use to cover it all up when she was finished. That body looked like it never saw an once of fat in its life. Those muscles were big too. They were big enough to . . .

A strange thought came to Ricardo, and suddenly, the church was the last place he wanted to be. He quietly but quickly went to the door, made sure it closed without a sound, and trotted to his car. He sent a quick text to Bishop to meet him at a café at the mall in about twenty minutes.

***

“I knew there was something strange about that chick!” Bishop said after he sipped his cappuccino. “I knew there was something off. Hey, you sure she’s a she?”

“Yeah I’m sure. No surgeon on earth is that good,” Ricardo replied.

“So she has muscles, big ones. But still, that doesn’t prove she did it. That doesn’t make sense.”

“Nothing about this whole thing has made sense so far. Why should it start making sense now?”

“I would be more than happy to pop a cap in her pretty head if she’s the one responsible. But I need something more to go on. My men won’t show it, but they’re scared to death, thinking they might be next. They’re almost afraid to go to the bathroom alone. If I tell some of them what you’re thinking, some of them might go off the deep end, and shoot every nun on sight. We don’t want that.”

Ricardo sighed. “I know I don’t have much to go on. All I know is both Merlin and Pete were beaten to death. From what we’ve heard, they were beaten by fists, kicks, someone who knows enough karate to be dangerous. Look, only a few people know our power structure, besides us. Outside of the boys, that leaves Father Sullivan, and the two nuns. Sister Dorothy seems to tolerate us at best, but she doesn’t have the body to deliver that much damage. That leaves Sister Sophia, a nun from someplace in Italy who was ‘sent’ here because she was ‘needed.’”

“Needed to do what?” Bishop asked.

“I don’t know, I didn’t get that far the last time we talked. Not long after that, she, well I think she was hitting on me. Don’t give me that look, I’m not kidding!”

“A killer nun with big muscles sent to get us, and she likes a little something on the side. She looks good, but I don’t touch that. I may not be very religious, but I think there might be a special hell for those who mess with nuns. Seriously, the big question is why?”

“I don’t know, but I think she is a professional, if she is the one.”

“Again, I’m not very religious, but there are some things you just can’t fake. Nuns are different from other women, just like a priest is not like one of the boys. I could go into a bar and spot a priest before he even opens his mouth.”

“So you think Sister Sophia is a fake?” Ricardo asked.

“I don’t know what to think. Maybe we should try the direct approach.”

“What, go to her and ask, ‘Hey, have you been killing our boys?’” Ricardo jested, drinking his coffee.

“Of course not. I mean talk to her, but not make it obvious what we’re talking to her about, you got me?”

“Yeah, I got you, but not tonight. My mother is having something tonight, and she nearly threatened me to come.”

Bishop leaned back. “No problem. I’m going to make sure my men are home, and staying home after eight. I’m starting to sound like my dad.”

“You gotta do what you gotta do.” Ricardo looked at the time on his phone. “Speaking of that, I gotta head home and get ready. I’ll see you later, all right?”

“Yeah, I’ll see you.”

***

The headquarters for the Werewolves was in the basement of an abandoned furniture store. One enters by using the back door that leads directly to it. Through “borrowing” some electricity from some neighboring stores, and adding a few conveniences like a pool table, big screen televisions (with “borrowed” cable), and leftover furniture, the gang had made it their second home. Sometimes it became a primary home to some of the gang members. Not at the moment, however. Bishop told everyone to go directly home during this curfew, and only to go to headquarters during the day. The only reason he was here was to pick up a few video games, and take them home. While he was playing, he would think about this “killer nun” idea, and figure out what to do. It still sounded crazy, but crazy seemed to be all there was to go on. He turned on only a couple of lights that lit the way to the table where the games were. In and out.

He jumped when the door closed. He left it open because he wasn’t staying very long. Then he remembered it was a nice evening, with no breeze blowing at all. He stopped what he was doing, and reached behind him to pull his gun from the small of his back where he normally kept it. The switch that turned on the rest of the lights was on the other side of the room, and there was a lamp nearby, but he wasn’t going to let his guard down to turn it on.

Still, there could be one of his men who dropped by for the same reason he did, and he didn’t want to shoot them, that was the last thing his gang needed.

“Who’s there?” He asked into the darkness. Everything was quiet for a long moment, before he heard a response.

“Good evening Bishop,” a feminine voice said.

What? No women entered this place without their male sibling or boyfriend. The voice sounded familiar.

“Sister Sophia?” Bishop asked.

In response, he received a warm giggle. He was in no mood to play games.

“Where are you, show yourself!” Bishop demanded.

A bright lamp was turned on, and there was Sister Sophia. But the nun was not dressed exactly like a nun. She still wore a headdress, but the wimple was short, only extending to the neck. Instead of black and white, it was all black, with the bottom part loose enough to be used as a mask. Her long brown hair was tied into a ponytail that peeked out from under it. In place of a habit, she wore a black spaghetti strap leotard with black stirrup tights. Standing by the light, Bishop saw what the habit hid. Her whole body was buff, more muscular than any of the men in his gang. To top it off, she had a half-grin on her face, like she had something sinister in mind.

“What are you doing here?” Bishop said.

Sister Sophia strode a few steps forward as she spoke. Bishop backed up a half-step, only to bump into the back of a sofa.

“Why I’m here for you, Bishop,” Sister Sophia replied.

What happened next, Bishop did almost by instinct. He drew his gun.

However, he was not fast enough.

Sister Sophia suddenly delivered a high kick, her right foot impacting with Bishop’s jaw. Bishop almost spun around twice before he fell. Fortunately, the sofa kept him from falling to the floor. He also still had his gun, and pointed it at the nun.

“Let me take care of that,” Sister Sophia said as she gently grasped the gun hand and pushed it away from her. She then suddenly twisted that wrist, causing Bishop to cry in pain, and drop the gun. A bare foot covered the gun, and slid it away. Bishop swore as he now tried to pull his hand away.

“Such language from a churchgoing man. Then again, if you were a churchgoing man, you wouldn’t be in this mess in the first place,” Sister Sophia added. She then punched him in the stomach. It felt like her fist was going through his back as he collapsed, grabbing on to the sofa for support.

It was an effort for Bishop to see straight. He has never been hit like that before. He could barely move, and he could barely speak. That kick may have broke his jaw. Still he was able to get out, “What kind of nun are you?”

“The kind of nun who does what needs to be done with some people. Some people thought your gangs were a constant problem, taking up the Father’s time, so someone called my order, and sent me to do something about it, which is to eliminate the problem. And guess what, Bishop, you are part of the problem.”

Bishop realized his options at this point were limited. He can’t shoot her, he wasn’t going to dare fight her. The only option was to somehow get away, contact somebody, or better yet, make a call to the other gang members to attack this woman. It was now obvious she was responsible for killing those two men. They were battered. She only hit him two times, and he already felt like he was dying.

Sister Sophia suddenly raised her left foot over her head, then sent it down like an ax. It landed on the back seat of the sofa, where Bishop’s head would have been if he didn’t move it in time. A soft crack could be heard from the break in the sofa’s wooden frame.

There was a back room not far from him. All he had to do was reach it, close and lock the door, and use his phone. She’ll probably run when she figures out he’ll make a call, but that was all right. He knew who the killer was, and soon, so will everybody else. He took off.

“Where are you going, Bishop?” Sister Sophia said playfully. “Is this hide and seek?”

Under his breath, Bishop mumbled a number of things, none of them flattering for the nun. Once he reached the room, he grabbed the door and closed it. As he was closing it, he saw Sister Sophia with a naughty smile on her face as she strode toward him.

The woman’s evil, he thought as he pushed a chair to barricade the door, despite the fact it was locked. He pulled out his cell phone as he slumped in another chair. He needed medical help. He’ll call 911, but first he had to let the others know. He probably had a concussion and internal injuries. He fumbled the phone as he went to the last person he contacted.

The door burst open. Sister Sophia broke it with just one kick. The chair, which did a horrible job as a barricade she knocked out of the way with her hand.

“Found you,” she sang. She snatched the phone out of Bishop’s hand and looked at it. “Oh, you were going to contact Ricardo. Good idea! I’ll leave him a message to meet you at the church gym tomorrow night. Ten o’clock sounds good. The only thing is you won’t be there.”

Bishop slowly reached down toward his pocket. His switchblade was there. If anything, maybe this nun can bleed. Sister Sophia suddenly slapped his face, and pulled the knife out of his pocket. She pressed the button, releasing the blade.

“Your man Pete, tried that trick on me. I tried to break every bone in his body. I got most of them, I think,” she said as she took the blade in two hands and broke it in two. “Cheap quality.” She then sat in Bishop’s lap, hard, facing him. She was much heavier than she looked.

“Okay Bishop, in the little time that we have left, let me tell you a few things. We can be honest with each other now. You see, I never liked you. You have a tendency to put down and mistreat women.”

“I never done anything to you,” Bishop spat out.

“No? Some of the things I’ve said you didn’t take very well. But it’s not about me. I’m thinking of your girlfriends, other women, the nuns at the church-”

“What do you want from me?”

“You? Nothing. You will not give me anything, I’m taking it. I damaged your internal organs. You may die before the night is over. But I have good news. You won’t die from those injuries. I will give you new ones that will kill you much sooner.”

“No, please, don’t kill me.”

“You had your chance when you refused to close down your gang. This is it, no more chances.”

Bishop knew he would not survive this night. The realization had dawned on him. He had one more question, he might as well ask it.

“Who sent you?” He rasped. He was tasting blood.

“If I was in your place, I would ask the same question. But you see, the identity of who sent me is to be kept quiet, and even on my deathbed, I am not to reveal it to anyone outside of my order. So this is goodbye. I will light a candle for you Bishop.”

***

The next day, Ricardo received the text, but when he tried to return the text for an explanation, he never got a reply. That wasn’t like him. And why meet in the church gym? Bishop never hung around there. Finally, ten o’clock was past the self-enforced curfew he placed on his gang. It was his number, so it was his phone. Ricardo suspected the worst.

He would attend the meeting, but only on his terms.

It was a dying tradition, but the church that Father Sullivan pastors is one of the few churches around that kept its doors open twenty-four hours a day for prayer. Ricardo entered the church through the sanctuary, roughly an hour and a half earlier than he was supposed to be there. Except for a couple of seniors, and some woman who had something pressing on her mind, no one else was there, and soon he was alone. He exited the sanctuary, and ventured out into the hallway, past the room where they had their war councils. He decided to enter the wrong way to throw whoever really texted him off balance.

Prior to this meeting, Ricardo decided to break a rule that was forbidden on holy ground, he carried a firearm. He was not comfortable with doing it, but he was also not going to face the opponent unarmed. Oh, who was he kidding, he knew who the “opponent” was, and if she sent a message using Bishop’s phone, that meant that Bishop was already dead.

That sent a pang in his heart. The two of them were getting along great. Sad that it took something like this to help bring them together, the same thing that threatened to eliminate them. If the worst happened, that meant that the Werewolves had one lieutenant left, a man out of town, while Ricardo had Jason to take his place. Jason is capable, but it wasn’t going to come to that, not if he could help it.

***

From her vantage point, Sister Sophia was impressed. Ricardo knew something was up, and decided to do something different by coming early and entering a different way. She knew he would be a craftier opponent. Right now, he was checking any rooms that might be suspect. But she knew how to keep to the shadows. She was wearing her regular habit. It took a little work, but she knew how to move stealthily in it. In black stocking feet, she climbed up the stairs that kept her hidden. Now it was time to hunt.

***

Checking all the rooms and hallways, Ricardo ran through his mind a dozen things he should have done at this point, chief among them was to bring backup with him. What he should do now was to send a text out to some of his guys to come armed to the church. Most of them would not be too crazy about bringing firearms with him to holy ground, but sometimes there were exceptions. He could still do it, and they could come in five or ten minutes.

He already had his pistol out as he opened the door to the gym. The gym was pitch black. There was still some time before he was supposed to meet, but he was not stepping into a darkened room. He needed light and backup. He pulled out his phone.

Two arms wrapped around his neck in a rear naked choke. He then was pushed into a wall at top speed, face first. The pain and impact made him loosen his grip on his gun, which was torn away and tossed down the hall.

“Ricardo,” Sophia spoke into his ear, “you should have taken me up on that offer of comfort the other day. It would have gone much better for you.”

“You’re no nun,” he swore.

“On the contrary, I’m a very special nun. When solutions like what Father Sullivan has don’t work, they call me.”

Sister Sophia suddenly let him go, and he distanced himself.

“You letting me go?” Ricardo asked, confused.

“Of course not, I needed to be rid of this.” Sister Sophia dropped her habit, revealing a black sports bra, panties, and tights. Ricardo saw again all the crafted muscles that rippled with power. She fell into a ready stance.

“You killed Bishop!” He yelled.

“Yes I did, and don’t bother yelling, we’re the only ones here. When someone enters their clubhouse, they’ll find him. I took care of the other two as well. I placed each one on the doorsteps of their headquarters. I don’t know where to put you yet.”

“Why?”

“I’ve been getting asked that a lot. Your two gangs are the last roaches to be exterminated. Both have been around much too long, and it’s wasting the Father’s time. He has more important things to do, but he’s more involved with you losers. So they called me.”

“Who called you?”

“That is as sacred as a confession. Even though I’m about to kill you, I can’t tell you who called me.” She kicked the phone on the floor over to Ricardo. “You are welcome to call or text for help, but you’ll be dead by the time they arrive. And if they arrive, I’ll kill them too.”

Ricardo slowly bent down and picked up the phone, and found himself rubbing his neck while watching her. “You won’t get away with this,” he said, while trying to think of a way out.

“Do you realize how many times I heard that line? I have ‘gotten away with it’ more times than I can count right now. I expected something more original from you, Ricardo. I guess you are really just another stupid gang banger.”

Normally that would’ve spurred Ricardo to fight, but that was what this woman wanted. It was easy to see killing three men was no problem for her. He had to think of something.

“I know you’re vying for time, Ricardo. Either try something, or accept your fate, and the Father will light a candle for you,” Sister Sophia said.

Ricardo thought furiously. He couldn’t go forward, so there was only one option left. If he could run in a straight line, he could reach the other door of the gym, and escape. Killer nun or not, she’s not going to chase after him in her underwear. At least that’s what he was hoping. He made a feint, like he was going to make an attack, then spun around and opened the door of the gym, running into the darkness.

Ricardo felt weird, running in the dark with almost no idea of where he was going. He felt a small tinge of confidence that he would make it. He would bust through that door, and run to his car, because his life depended on it.

Those hopes were squashed when he felt someone tackle him around the waist, taking him to the ground. He rolled to his knees, ready to get up when he felt something hard striking his face. For a moment, Ricardo saw stars as he stumbled to the floor. He felt arms wrap around his neck again, and legs wrap around his midsection. He felt hot breath in his ear.

“That was a daring idea, Ricardo,” Sister Sophia breathed in a whisper. “I guess you have been here before. If you kept running, you could have reached the door on the other side, and ran for freedom. By the way, just because I’m a nun doesn’t mean I will not stop coming after you because I’m not wearing my habit. Sorry I had to punch you like that, but you wouldn’t keep still. I actually like you, Ricardo. Because of that, I’m not going to break all those bones. I will just squeeze you to death. I wonder what will give first, your ribs or your neck. Goodbye Ricardo.”

She started squeezing instantly with both her arms and legs, and Ricardo could barely think or breathe with the double squeeze placed on him. In the end, it made no difference, Sister Sophia released her limbs, allowing Ricardo Sanchez, leader of the Lone Wolves to drop soundlessly to the floor. Now all that remained was the cleanup.

The first thing she did was trot back into the hall and throw her habit back on. She originally planned to don her “hunting habit,” to wear under her normal habit, but she was earlier involved in “regular” nun work, so she didn’t have time. This was followed by a sneaking feeling her prey could probably come sooner than expected. Also, it would still leave her open to questions, like if that wimple was the latest design out of Italy. She had fought in her regular habit before, but it did limit her from a few things, like running, and ground fighting.

Now fully dressed, she checked the hallway for items that were out of place. There was one. Ricardo’s gun was lying in the middle of the hall. She plucked it up, using her wimple to keep from leaving fingerprints, and dropped it in an inside pocket. That done, she stepped into the gym, and used the nearby switch to turn the lights on.

Normally Sophia wouldn’t use holy ground to commit a sanction, but in this case, it worked out very well. With the use of Bishop’s phone it helped draw her prey to her, and as proper procedure, she quickly learned every inch of the church. She was taught it was very important to gain first control of the battlefield. She walked over, and draped Ricardo’s corpse over one shoulder. She walked over to the other side of the gym, and turned off the lights.

Opening the door, and checking if the coast was clear, she quickly walked to Ricardo’s car. Digging around in Ricardo’s pockets, she found the keys and popped open the trunk. She dropped the body in, shut it, and got in the car and drove off. She knew where the Lone Wolves headquarters were, she followed them there one evening, as well as made her first kill. Silly Merlin. He may have had a nickname after a powerful magician in fiction, but in reality, he was just as weak as the rest of them.

The Lone Wolves headquarters was an allegedly abandoned house with “borrowed” utilities from the city and the local neighbors. If she stayed in town for a significant length of time, she would check into the city’s zoning practices. Someone wasn’t doing their job very well. The Lone Wolves didn’t have a curfew, but it seemed none of the gang members wanted to be caught alone. The place was vacant. Sophia opened the trunk, took out the body, and plopped it on the front steps. She then took out the gun, wiped it, and put it back where Ricardo had it in his pants.

It was easy to get a cab. The cabbie warned Sophia that it was dangerous out at night. Not only that, the cab fare was free. Sophia waved as the cab drove off.

It was true, she thought with a smile. It was dangerous out at night, and one never knows where the danger may come from.

***

After the death of both gang leaders, the fallout hit hard.

At the next war council, reactions from the two gangs ranged from rage to finger pointing, to vowing revenge. Unfortunately, no one even knew where to begin, so that went nowhere. Once the solid glue, that is, the leaders were eliminated, the gangs lost their cohesion, and gradually became no more.

Both gangs had each one more man in the leadership role, but unlike what Ricardo and Bishop predicted, they didn’t become the next heirs.

Devon Williams, the supposedly heir apparent of the Werewolves returned from his lengthy vacation. As he sat in the airport, wondering what happened to any welcoming party he would have received, a mysterious woman sat at his table. She wooed him, and next thing he knew, he was involved in a night of passion that wiped him out. In the morning, he woke up to see she was gone, and left a note that said it was just what she needed, and thank you. Devon had no way to get a hold of her, but at least she had his thanks for paying for the hotel room. When he returned, the headquarters were abandoned, and all the members were scattered to the four winds. He finally tracked down someone who explained to him what happened. It didn’t take long for him to figure out that being out of town, and that night under the sheets with that tall Italian woman may have saved his life. He was thankful for that, but he didn’t have the motivation to rebuild the gang. So that was it for the Werewolves.

For Jason Fredericks, it was a different story. He was the first and possibly only one to take Valor seriously. He actually was the first one to figure out that the killer would go after the high value targets first. He also was considered a paranoid computer geek, so he was ignored.

He finally decided if the killer was going to come after him, since he was also a high value target, at the very least, he would get to see them coming. He lined up his place with all sorts of cameras, microphones, and whatever would detect anything short of a low flying satellite. His girlfriend was fascinated in that they get to see their pizza arriving before the pizza man knocked on the door.

His life was simple, from that point. He went to work, he came home, he either cooked or ordered dinner, and went to bed, in order to repeat the process the next day. It was mundane, but safe.

One night, he was alone at his place, and he decided to order a pizza. The pizza man came, and before he came with the pizza, a nun walked up to him. They had a brief conversation, then the pizza man continued to his door. The nun, who Jason now recognized as that tall nun at the war conferences, turned to the camera, smiled, and using her finger like a gun, cocked and fired. She then walked back to wherever she came from.

By the time he put two and two together, Bishop was dead, and he delivered a warning to Ricardo, who agreed and was going to get her, but that ended badly.

The writing was on the wall as far as Jason was concerned. He was not going to lead a gang, and be hunted down by some amazon nun, no way. As soon as he found a suitable place, he moved. It was another side of town, but not one that anyone was familiar with. Unknown to anyone else except his girlfriend, he continued taking his online courses until he got his degree in Accounting, and started working at a small tax firm in town. If the killer nun had to get him, she would have to go through H&R Block to do it.

Finally, he switched denominations. He was a Catholic no more. The last time he checked, Methodists have no nuns, much less those who hunt down former gang members. He lived a good life. He married his girlfriend, and hardly ever brought up his life with the Lone Wolves.

As expected, Father Sullivan was crushed by what happened. His years-long experiment ended tragically. He was down to two gangs being civil with each other, and that was ruined by some killer that no one knew, much less have any idea how to catch the culprit. It was finally attributed to a vigilante who wanted the city to be rid of gangs.

Sister Dorothy told him that what happened was a tragic thing, but there were other people out there who desperately needed his help, and they needed it now. It was basically the same message she’d told him over the last couple of years. This time, it stuck, and Father Sullivan had a bigger, stronger ministry, especially since he didn’t have gangs to deal with.

***

Sister Sophia was packing her suitcase. Her work was done, so it was time to return back to her convent. She was dressed casually in a black T-shirt, blue jeans, and barefoot. That would work well at the American airports, since they ask the passengers to remove their shoes anyway. She considered wearing black no-show socks so it wouldn’t freak some people out, especially when they see the wimple she wore.

She already done her prayers, meditation, kata, and workout. Now it was time for something she did after every mission, she reflected on how it began, how it went, and if it would be revisited in the future.

She zipped up her suitcase, sat on her bed, and remembered . . .

***

Sister Dorothy has had enough. Father Sullivan ministered to many people, but his ministry would be stronger if he hadn’t had to deal with those street gangs. Granted, his method of dealing with them was a success, but that particular ministry was becoming like a child that was starved for attention, and would not be happy until he got it. At this point, he could let things run their course, and get back to other facets of the business of he church, but he would not let it go. The two have had disagreements over it, and this time, Sister Dorothy would find a way to end it.

She had heard of a group of nuns who specialized in handling tough problems. She was surprised she had to jump through so many hoops to get to this group. Finally, she reached them, told them the situation, and they told her they will send someone to her in a day or two. Okay, Sister Dorothy agreed.

The next day, Sister Sophia arrived at the airport. Sister Dorothy gave her a double take. The woman stood close to six feet, if she wasn’t there already, and had the build of a bodybuilder. She wore a long-sleeve white blouse, a black short skirt of faux leather, and tan pantyhose, no shoes. She also had long brown hair, and an expressive pretty face. She smiled politely at her fellow nun.

“Where are your shoes?” Sister Dorothy asked.

“I don’t know if they told you, but my order is one of the discalced Carmelite,” Sister Sophia said.

“But don’t you wear sandals?”

“My order is one of the ‘hard case’ orders. No shoes if we can help it. It is good to meet you. Now that I’m here, I want to talk about your situation, in private.”

Sister Dorothy gestured behind her. “Well we can sit at the airport restaurant here and talk.”

“No, we need something more private than that.” Sister Sophia looked off in the distance. “That hotel over there should do it. I’ll rent a room for us.”

“Rent a room? That’s a lot of trouble.”

Sister Sophia smiled. “It’s no trouble.”

***

“So let me make sure I have this straight, your order was formed during the Protestant Reformation?” Sister Dorothy said.

Sister Sophia smiled. “The Protestants were growing rapidly in a particular area of Italy. This one particular convent heard what was happening, and they decided that it will not happen.”

“But I never even heard of this man.”

“There’s a reason for that.”

It took Sister Dorothy a moment to understand. “Oh.”

“We have found over time that we had a gift for eliminating problems. Of course since then, we realized that the Reformation could not be stopped so easily, and we eventually had peace with them. However, there were plenty of other problems that needed to be taken care of. So a particular group of nuns separated from the regular convent, and formed a new one. We do the same things any group of cloistered nuns do, except we train to eliminate problems. You understand?”

“Yes. Now I explained my current problem with you. How would you take care of it?”

“Some of my fellow sisters would go with a ‘scorched earth’ approach. You can imagine how messy and complicated that would be. I think a more surgical method would be best,” Sister Sophia said. “Eliminate the top officers, or take out enough of them on both sides, and that should take care of the problem.”

“But won’t someone take their place?” Sister Dorothy asked.

“You are thinking of a trained army with officers, chain of command, and such. We are talking about a group of thugs who play act as a real army, but they pollute the neighborhood with vice, drugs, and other things. Has Father Sullivan considered that?”

“He may have at one time, but he is blind to it now. We recently had a son of a parishioner overdose and almost die because he bought drugs from these thugs.”

“Then my choice is clear. Now the choice is up to you. Once you decide it should be done, it can’t be undone. I’m here until the job is done. If you decide not to, that is fine. I’ll board the next flight back to Italy. Either way, I need a decision now.”

Sister Dorothy pondered the matter of what would be done. She considered the method a little too extreme, until she thought of that young boy who was barely rescued from death’s door, a victim of the drugs that both gangs continued to sell.

“Yes, do it,” she said.

“Very good. You can introduce me as a visitor from Italy.”

“With special orders from the Vatican?”

Sister Sophia laughed. “The Vatican doesn’t even know we exist, and we prefer it that way. They may never know how many times through history the Vatican may not even existed if not for us. Just say I’m here on a special mission, whatever sounds good. Father Sullivan is the only one you’ll need to convince, the others won’t care.”

“Okay. Is there anything I need to get you, any special equipment, or weapons?”

“I just need your advice on a few things and people. Regarding weapons, my order is trained to make ourselves a weapon. That way we don’t have to worry about carrying daggers like we did hundreds of years ago.”

“Is all your order built like you?”

“We are all strong, but not all of us are as tall as I am. One of my teachers stands the same height as you, but she is very stout and strong. She is incredibly gifted.”

“Gifted?”

“She can throw a punch that can stop your heart, no matter how big the opponent may be. It has been said she could execute a man with a punch to the heart in seconds. By the time someone realized what happened, she is gone. She is in her sixties now, but she can still deliver that punch.”

“I see. Wait, you are from Italy, but I don’t detect an accent.”

“Professional habit. I try to speak in the dialect of where I am,” Sister Sophia said with an Italian accent. “I also know ten languages as well.” She switched back to her current accent. “For now, I will speak like a Midwesterner.”

“Fascinating.”

***

Sister Sophia sat in on her first war council meeting with the two gangs and Father Sullivan.

“I have my work cut out for me,” she said to Sister Dorothy in a low voice. “The Father doesn’t just tolerate them, he coddles them like they were his own children. His own spoiled children.”

“So now you see what I have to deal with. I am all for reconciliation, but a line has to be drawn somewhere,” Sister Dorothy agreed.

As the meeting went on, a particular dilemma was presented, and Sister Sophia offered a simple solution.

“The best thing would be not to sell any drugs at all on that part of the street, and leave things as they are. I think that area is trying to develop their neighborhood if I remember correctly,” she said.

The meeting seemed to grind to a halt for a long moment. It seemed like both gang leaders and Father Sullivan gave her long looks. Sister Sophia shrugged with a look that seemed to ask why no one thought of that.

Finally, Bishop, the leader of the Werewolves demanded, “Who are you, and why are you in our business?”

Calmly, the nun said, “I am Sister Sophia. I am special assignment from Italy, and I was invited to join in on your ‘war council.’ You cannot have much of a war council if you just offer problems with no solutions.”

Before Bishop could blow up, Father Sullivan interjected, “Sister Sophia, I know you are new here, so let me explain that at these meetings we negotiate, not just offer blunt solutions.”

“I see. So you negotiate among yourselves what is being done. I am just curious about the people in that neighborhood, do they get to ‘negotiate’ as well?”

She knew she hit a sore spot, as she meant to. All these men, playing with communities like they were toys. If there was a goal to reach, they lost sight of it long ago.

She leaned back in her seat, hands up in surrender. “That is all I have, continue.”

As everyone eventually got back to the meeting, she leaned over to Sister Sophia. “I don’t care how successful these meetings were in the past, it is not that way now. If peace is the goal they’re trying to reach, why do they still call it a ‘war council?’”

Sister Dorothy could only shrug her shoulders. Sister Sophia remained quiet, and studied the gang members, gathering as much information as possible. One of the gang members noticed her watching them closely. When Sister Sophia saw him looking, she gave him a coy wink. He leaned back in shock. That will give them something to talk about, she thought. She leaned back to Sister Dorothy.

“Ricardo is rather handsome,” she said.

“Yes. Pity he’s in a gang, and you’re a nun,” Sister Dorothy replied.

“In my order, we are allowed . . . allowances for these things.” Turning to see her sister’s shocked face, she added, “It is sometimes necessary, given what we do. I’ll explain that later. You see that man to the right of Ricardo?”

“Yes, his name is Merle, they call him ‘Merlin.’”

“Well I’m going to make Merlin ‘disappear.’”

Sister Sophia swallowed. This was what she agreed to. “Why not take out the leader?”

“Because at this point, the others would rally around whoever is next in succession. To take down a structure, it is sometimes essential to take out some of the main foundations. A random gang member would be tragic, but of no little consequence in the long run. Taking out an officer would make the others panic, even paranoid of what’s going on.”

“That might restart a war.”

“It might, it might do a number of things. But that’s only my first target. There will be a target on the other side. After that, there will be the leaders themselves.”

“I know I agreed to this, but is there a possibility it will not have to come to that?”

Sister Sophia made a sad face. “You saw how they responded to my suggestion. Look at them. They are not going to quit. If they did, there would be no need for shed blood. At the very least, you will be freed of these stupid meetings.”

Sister Dorothy slowly nodded.

***

Merle, or Merlin, seemed to be one of those popular guys that almost everyone seemed to like. That went for the women as well. Unfortunately, it happened more than once that a woman had said to him that she would love to be with him, except for that gang he was in. Many have asked him more than once to quit. It also seemed those women who didn’t mind were going with someone else.

So for now, here he was, happily single, heading to the Lone Wolves headquarters, where he and a couple of others were going to watch the UFC tournament tonight. He had a few bucks on the favorite, not anything that would make him rich if he won, or broke if he lost. There should be plenty of pizza and beer to partake while they watched the preliminary matches and the main event.

He was walking up to the door, when he heard a voice.

“Merle Smith,” the voice said.

Merlin turned around, looking for the voice. Only his mother used his given name, and she was back home. “Who’s there?” He asked.

From the shadows walked a woman. Merlin recognized it was that nun, but she wasn’t dressed up in any nun getup he had ever seen. It appeared to be a form fitting black outfit, leaving the arms bare. She seemed to be wearing black tights with a stirrup at the end, leaving her feet bare. That head thingy that they usually wear, this one was much different. It was shorter, and part of it, the white part was pulled up to her face, wearing it like a mask.

Not only that, he saw the arms. They reminded him of some of the fighters he’d watched, muscular, and well-developed. What kind of nun was this? He left his gun in the car, but he had his blade ready. He had a feeling he’ll need to use it.

“You, you’re that nun we saw at that meeting that day!” Merlin said. “Why are you here, you watching the fight with us?”

Sister Sophia shook her head. “I’m not watching the fight, and neither are you.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means a sacrifice must be made for the common good.” Sister Sophia started walked towards him.

“Hey, I’m no one’s sacrifice!” He reached for the knife in his pocket.

Sister Sophia’s fist reached his face first. If he lived that night, he’d had to go to the hospital for facial surgery. She next delivered a kick with her left leg into Merlin’s ribs, breaking a few. She knew there were some gang members in the house already, watching the show, so she needed to make it quick. She quickly draped an arm around his neck, and broke it. She let him drop to the pavement.

Normally she liked to break her victims literally before she ended them. She would do that later with the next target. For now, her work was done. She disappeared into the night.

It would be in-between the last preliminary fight and the main event before someone would ask where Merlin was. One of the men stepped outside for a cigarette, and that was when he saw the body. The fight was forgotten, and someone had to calm down a few hotheads before they could develop a plan of action. Somebody said if the police saw his body there, they would be accused of killing him. They decided to move him to an alley They went to the alley, called Ricardo, who received the shock of seeing his close friend lying in an alley, and then proceeded to chew his men out for doing something so stupid as to move the body.

Far away, sitting in a tree, Sister Sophia watched the commotion. It took them long enough to find the body. Why did they move the body? All that would do was draw suspicion to themselves. The police had to spend their time having to shut some of the gang bangers up in order to get some straight answers. Ricardo stood by, looking like he lost his best friend. That was a possibility, Sister Dorothy told them they were close friends.

The wages of sin, she thought to herself as she left.

***

At the war council, Bishop, the leader of the Werewolves was stating his innocence. Ricardo had to silence a few of his men who called him a liar. The others loudly defended him, and Father Sullivan had to silence both parties before he could move forward.

“Looks like you started quite a ruckus,” Sister Dorothy said.

“This is to be expected,” Sister Sophia replied. “I just started.”

At the funeral, both nuns stood a respectable distance from what was going on. Sister Sophia noticed Ricardo and Bishop briefly chatting to each other in the distance.

“Looks like you might have the two gangs working together,” Sister Dorothy remarked. It came to her that she wasn’t as concerned about Merlin’s death as she thought.

“A common purpose,” Sister Sophia said. “However, it remains to be seen if they will have the gangs working together. Regardless, I’ve picked my next target. I will wait a little longer, then I will do it. How is Father Sullivan taking things?”

“He’s in almost a bad a shape as Merlin’s parents. He’s wandering around, wondering what he did wrong. I’m keeping my distance until he gets better.”

***

Ricardo went into the church, and sat in one of the pews. He didn’t seem to be praying, he didn’t seem to be doing anything but just staring into space. Sister Sophia knew people who go into a church attend for many reasons, but she suspected Ricardo was one of those people who would enter a church, but would have no idea what to do once they arrived there. After nearly startling him when she said hello, the two talked for a little while. She sat down close beside him.

“As you said, he was a close friend, so you are entitled to be sad, you are entitled to be hurt, you are entitled to feel angry. You are entitled, to feel.”

Suddenly Ricardo excused himself, said goodbye, and left. Sister Sophia smiled as he left. Seduction was in her skill set, and it was good to use it every now and then. Ricardo apparently had a pretty good radar about these things. Many people had turned to mush from her smile alone. She suspected that he was one of the smart ones. Smart and handsome. She’ll save him for last.

***

Pete Lee she encountered one evening as he was about to reach his car after work, and bought a pizza at a fast food restaurant. Sister Sophia had skipped her evening workout, figuring she would just take it out on him. Dressed in her hunting outfit, she stood in front of Pete’s car, and Pete, not wasting any time, pulled out a switchblade knife. The nun became cautious, just in case he knew how to use it. He didn’t; he just waved it around like a drunken man. It was pathetic. Sister Sophia smacked his knife hand aside, and started delivering punches and kicks in blinding speed. She felt muscles softening, and bones breaking from her attack. The knife fell to the floor, the owner no longer able to use it.

After she was finished, Sister Sophia loaded the body into the trunk. It was like dumping a bag of grain. Aside from the legs, most of Pete’s bones were broken. She wasn’t sure what blow finished him off, but she was glad to get her workout. She got in the car, and drove to the Werewolves headquarters. No one was there at the moment. She parked the car, pulled Pete out, and left him on the steps to the headquarters. She drove the car back to the place he bought his pizza, quelled the temptation to buy one herself, and making sure she left no fingerprints on the steering wheel, got out and left.

She couldn’t wait to see Bishop lose it when he found out he lost one of his right hand men. His other lieutenant was out of town visiting family. She saw a picture of him, and liked what she saw.

Hmm, I never done a black man before, Sister Sophia thought. Perhaps she could find a bit of pleasure before she took care of business.

***

“I’m doing Bishop next,” Sister Sophia said.

“Let me help you,” Sister Dorothy replied, surprising both Sophia and herself.

“Dorothy, you are aware I am going to kill this man. I am also trained for it. You have done your part, just leave it to me.”

“He tried to assault me once. No, he didn’t do anything, but if he had enough time, he would have done it. He had me cornered in a hallway, and he was trying to kiss me. One of the other sisters arrived, and I fled.”

“Did you tell Father Sullivan?”

Sister Dorothy’s face almost flashed crimson with rage. “He said he was just kidding.”

Sister Sophia mumbled something in Italian, and crossed herself for what she said. “There is one thing you can help me with. The Werewolves have a curfew. How does this extend to their headquarters?”

“From what I heard, the Werewolves can only go in their headquarters during the day. Only Bishop allows himself to roam around during the evening. He talks about dropping by on his way home to pick up things, like video games and things like that.”

The killer nun gave a grim grin. “Thank you, Dorothy. When I am finishing him off, I’ll give him a few shots for you. I’ll make sure he’s still conscious for that.”

***

It looked like Bishop dropped by his headquarters at night on a regular basis. He apparently was one of those people who thought the rules didn’t apply to him, Sister Sophia thought as she watched Bishop enter the headquarters. If he obeyed the curfew, it would have extended his life much longer than it will be now. She was further astounded when he left the door open. How this fool became the leader of a gang was a mystery to her.

She closed the door, hard, and as she predicted, it spooked him. He even had his gun drawn. Unlike the other two men, which was just business, she was going to enjoy taking him apart. She was never fond of abusive men, and she looked forward to hearing him beg before she ended him. It was a pleasure to disarm him, first of his gun, then of his knife (why did they use cheap blades in the first place?). She even let him run for shelter in a room with a rickety door. That was no problem to kick her way through.

He didn’t beg as much as she hoped, but that was no big deal as she proceeded to pound his body into sand. Him sending, or rather his attempt to send for help gave Sister Sophia an idea, that would save her the trouble of hunting the last man on her active list down.

***

Sister Sophia would rather not conduct her executions in a church, but she knew the layout so well. One thing about the Catholic Church. Their buildings can be very elaborate, but the floor plans were still the same. It was child’s play to hide in the shadows.

She had Ricardo pegged as a clever one, and she was right. He sensed the text may be a trap, so he arrived early, earlier than Sister Sophia anticipated, and he was entering via the sanctuary instead of entering the gym directly. Of course, meeting someone at a church at ten o’clock at night sounded ominous enough, he wouldn’t be very bright if he didn’t think that was very strange.

He even had his gun out. It would be funny if another nun or priest appeared. That would be embarrassing, except he may end up shooting them. He found the door to the church gym, and he saw it was completely dark. Sister Sophia saw Ricardo contemplate his next move, then pull out his phone. He could either use the flashlight function to find the light switches, or he could be calling or texting for backup. That couldn’t be allowed.

Coming from the darkness, Sister Sophia locked her arms around Ricardo’s neck for a rear naked choke. She followed that up with slamming him into the wall face first. The impact made him loosen his hold on the gun, so Sister Sophia pried the weapon loose and tossed it down the hall.

“Ricardo,” Sophia spoke into his ear, “you should have taken me up on that offer of comfort the other day. It would have gone much better for you.”

“You’re no nun,” he swore.

“On the contrary, I’m a very special nun. When solutions like what Father Sullivan has don’t work, they call me.”

It was a pity. At least the other way, he would’ve been happy at the end when she ended his life. Now his end would be violent.

While the choke was proven to be effective, she wasn’t very comfortable, so she released the hold.

“You’re letting me go?” Ricardo asked, gasping.

“Of course not, I needed to be rid of this.” She slipped her habit off, leaving her in a black sports bra, black panties, and black pantyhose.

Typical male. Instead of using this as the opportune time for an attack, he just stood there and gawked at my muscles, Sister Sophia thought. It was the reason she left her arms exposed on her hunting outfit. By the time the victim reconciled that those muscles belonged to a nun, it was too late.

“You killed Bishop!” He said.

They then went to the meaningless dialogue that she had endured for so long: why, who sent you, etc. Except for who sent her, she answered his questions. Then she heard another phrase.

“You won’t get away with this!”

Sister Sophia couldn’t help but reply to that. It kept her from laughing. If he knew how many kills she had, many of them more tricky and dangerous than what she did with these gang members, he would be more frightened then he is now.

Ricardo was clearly considering his options. He obviously can’t shoot her, fighting her would be dangerous, and the only exit was running through a pitch black gym. He opened the door and sprinted.

Sister Sophia left the door open so she had some light to operate. Ricardo probably was thinking she wouldn’t chase him outside in her underwear. She killed victims wearing less. She delivered a flying tackle to bring Ricardo down, then sent a fist into his face to stop him from struggling while she wrapped her arms around his neck once more, and clamped her legs around his middle.

She wasn’t sure what happened first, the crushing of his neck or the breaking of his ribs. It was irrelevant, he was dead, that was the point. Now all that remained was the cleanup.

The first thing she did was get dressed. She threw her habit back on, then walked over to the revolver, and using the edge of her habit, picked it up. In her evening prayers, she’ll ask for forgiveness using the church as a battlefield, but it was the most effective for her plan. At least there wasn’t much to take care of other than Ricardo’s gun. She dropped the gun in an inside pocket of her habit.

She turned on the light switch by the door. If Ricardo only knew; he was roughly seconds from reaching the other door and possible freedom. That wouldn’t had changed the outcome, she would have still caught and killed him. She once chased her prey in a similar situation, except there was snow outside, and the victim foolishly thought the nun would never be caught outside in her underwear to get him. Sophia still remembered the look on his face as she broke him, his killer seemingly impervious to the cold. Not long after that, she designed her hunting habit. She was trained to be resistant to most outside conditions, but she was a warm weather person.

There was nothing on the gym floor that was suspect. Draping Ricardo’s body over her shoulder, she turned off the lights on the other side of the gym, and poked her head out. No one was usually around at this time of night, but she didn’t need to be seen by any late night joggers.

After throwing the body in the trunk, and getting in Ricardo’s car, she wondered where she could drop the victims’ remains. It was too late to be creative, just drop it at the front of his gang’s headquarters, park the car, and be done with it. So she did, making sure to wipe everything, and return Ricardo’s gun to where he normally carried it on his person.

It was a nice touch to be given a ride from a caring cab driver, she wished there were more of them. She appreciated his message to be careful, though it would’ve been more appropriate for him to give that advice to her last four victims.

***

From the way things looked, it would appear Sister Sophia’s work was done, but each gang had a lieutenant left, and she had to determine if one or both should be taken out.

Jason Fredericks had his place turned into a virtual fortress. He was a smart one too. If the others listened to him, she would have a harder time eliminating the top officers. He managed to put up motion detectors and cameras in front and back. He went to his job in the morning, then came home, and stayed home. She had a very narrow window.

One night, she appeared just as a pizza delivery car pulled up. She had a brief conversation with the delivery man as he was heading for the steps.

“This customer is a little weird,” he was saying. “He tips very well, but he has his place hooked up like Fort Knox. He can see my car pulling up from where he’s at. Said he had someone after him. I just say ‘whatever man,’ and give him his pizza. He’s probably watching us now.”

Sister Sophia let him go, then she had to make a quick decision. He objective was to destroy the foundations, that is, leaders of the two gangs. Though he was a lieutenant, he was, for lack of a better word, too intelligent to lead a gang. He was also too security conscious for a gang leader, and finally, though he knew what he was talking about, no one listened to him.

She looked up at the camera, smiled, and using her finger like a gun, cocked it and fired with a wink. Jason would live this day.

On followup reconnaissance, she smiled when she found later that Jason moved, worked for a tax firm, and even changed denominations. He must have put two and two together, and figured out it was this strange nun who did it, a professional. But who would believe that it was a killer nun? No need to be in a group where they do not acknowledge what you say.

Devon Williams was a different story. He got off the plane totally oblivious to what happened while he was gone. As he went through the airport, he looked around for a welcoming party that never shown up. He finally went to the airport restaurant to get a coffee.

Sister Sophia saw her chance. Ricardo may have resisted her charms, but she wondered if Devon would. He didn’t; he became putty in her hands from the first warm smile she gave.

She said she had just got off her plane, and she wanted someone to talk to. He said he was expecting some people to greet him, but they didn’t show up. He added that he was thinking of quitting this club (he spoke in code, of course, using ‘club’ instead of ‘gang’), and this was clear proof.

They talked some more, and finally Sister Sophia said that they could continue this conversation in her hotel room. What happened next was a lot of raw sex all night long. Sophia had plenty of stamina. So did Devon, for a while, until being worn out, fell asleep.

Looking down at her target, Sophia thought it would be so easy to end it, just break his neck, and go. But during the conversation they had he said he had no interest in leading the “club.” When he finds out what happened, he’ll be hurt, but he’ll be alive. Sophia, who went by the name “Francine,” wrote a note, placed it where he could see it, kissed him goodbye, got dressed and left.

***

Sister Dorothy came in just as Sister Sophia was putting on some black no-show socks, her “shoes” for that day.

“I want to thank you for what you have done for us,” she began. “I understand that sometimes you have to use a rod instead of words.”

“Just doing my job. It is not always a pleasant one,” Sister Sophia said.

“We never did discuss the matter of payment. I have no money, but-”

“Don’t worry, we get our ‘payment’ from other sources, used for when we conclude a mission.”

“Well I guess we may never meet again, or perhaps I should say I hope I will never need your services again.”

Sister Sophia laughed. “I understand. Actually, I’ve been thinking, perhaps you can be one of us.”

“Me?”

“Aside from the more ‘extreme’ matters of our order, we do what nuns normally do. I will tell you, the physical part of your training will be fierce. It will take you to your limits and beyond. It will be rewarding when you’re done. Here.” Sister Sophia handed Sister Dorothy a business card. “If you are interested, just call my cell, and I will give you instructions. Remember, there are only a few who have heard of us, and we prefer to keep it that way. You understand.”

“Yes I do,” Sister Dorothy said, looking at the card. “Well, I don’t want you to miss your flight.”

“The Uber service here seems to be quite good. My ride is probably out there right now. Goodbye, Dorothy.”

“Goodbye, Sophia.”

The two nuns hugged, and Sister Sophia went outside to catch her ride to the airport.

In the car, Sister Sophia was thinking of the garden she worked on before they called her to do this job. She couldn’t wait to see if those seeds she planted had taken root. Hopefully she can get it finished before she was called for another assignment.

---

If you enjoyed this story, perhaps you may want to read other stories from the Barefoot Heroines collection. There are a variety of stories to choose from. They can be found at https://www.thevalkyrie.com/stories/mongoose/index.htm.

For suggestions, comments, or story ideas, email the author at shrewsberry@juno.com.

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