Outlaw

Shen Li cowered against the wall at the foot of the stairs, screaming at the chaos unfolding in front of her. A bloody Tan Lily held a knife in one hand and shoved an unconscious Jax off her with the other. And Cher, Margaret’s trusty Black Mouth Cur, raced down the stairs like a fur missile homed in on the woman she had come to rescue.

Without thinking, Punky lifted her gun and aimed at the dog but hesitated in pulling the trigger.

What’s going on?

She looked at Jax and saw his gun drawn and the bright red gash across his throat where it had been slit open. She saw Cher’s powerful mouth clamp down on Tan Lily’s forearm and whip her head from side to side, ripping and tearing at the doctor’s flesh as the knife fell from her grasp and clattered to the floor. She saw the little girl again, still screaming, and she lowered her gun and quickly scooped Shen Li up in her arms.

The girl flailed against her, but Punky only cared to get her away. The last thing Shen Li needed to see was a dog tearing her mother to pieces. She pressed Shen Li’s head to her chest and spun for the door, brushing past Camron, who also had his gun drawn but stood motionless just outside the door.

“I’ve got you,” Punky whispered.

* * *

A few minutes later, Camron came outside and walked over to where Punky had placed Shen Li in the back seat of the Tahoe. Flashing police lights reflected off the house and surrounding trees as the safe house was descended upon by a horde of local law enforcement officers who were responding to multiple reports of gunshots and a vehicular accident at the neighborhood’s main gate.

“What a mess,” he said.

Punky turned away from where Shen Li sat crying softly with a blanket wrapped around her and looked at her supervisor. The shock on his face said it all. “What’s it like in there?”

He turned and looked at the handful of uniformed police officers who were questioning the Agency security personnel who had emerged from the woods west of the house not long after they arrived. What had started out as a tense standoff with the armed men as immediate suspects became a sharing of information between professionals who only wanted to understand what had taken place.

“The older woman — Margaret, you said — is dead. Her body is in the armory, the victim of multiple stab wounds.” Camron’s face paled as he struggled to compose himself. “I’m no expert with knives, but it looked like whoever killed her knew what they were doing.”

The image of Tan Lily with the knife in her hand immediately flashed in Punky’s mind.

“Jax is dead too,” he added. “It doesn’t make sense, but it looks like the doctor is the one who killed him.”

She nodded. “Yeah, it does.”

“What do you mean?”

Punky closed the door and sealed Shen Li inside, then took Camron by the arm and stepped away from the SUV and out of earshot. “I had it all wrong, Camron. I thought SUBLIME was the code name for a person who was after Tan Lily.”

He squinted at her. “Who was after her, then?”

“That’s the wrong question,” she said, suddenly realizing just how foolish she had been.

“What’s the right question?”

“Who was SUBLIME?”

A commotion near the front door caused them both to turn and see Tan Lily being escorted in handcuffs from the house by a pair of uniformed officers. “She was.”

They both fell silent and watched the officers lead Tan Lily to a police cruiser parked in the driveway. It made sense now, though Punky still struggled to believe the enemy had been hiding right underneath her nose the whole time.

“So, who was the man who shot you?” Camron finally asked.

Punky shrugged. “I don’t know, but I believe he was sent to make sure Tan Lily activated the synthetic bioweapon. He wasn’t sent to kill her. He was sent to rescue her.”

The soft plodding of feet pulled her back from her brooding, and she looked down to see Cher limp next to her and press her bandaged body against her leg. Both ears drooped, and her tail hung in a characteristic display of sadness, but Punky reached down and scratched the top of the dog’s head. She knew Cher had lost Margaret and knew she needed someone to shower her with love.

Punky squatted down to eye level with the dog. “You’re a good girl, Cher. You made her proud.”

The dog didn’t lick her face or give any outward sign that she appreciated the praise, but Punky didn’t mind. She knew it would take some time to heal from her wounds — both physical and emotional. As she stared into the dog’s eyes, Punky suddenly had an idea.

She stood and walked to the Tahoe, then opened the back door where Shen Li sat curled up with her blanket. One of Cher’s ears stood tall, and her tail started wagging when she recognized the little girl in the back seat. “Go on, Cher.”

The cur needed no encouragement. She bounded up into the back seat and curled into a ball next to the little girl and rested her head in her lap. Shen Li bent over and gave Cher a hug, and Punky watched the two wounded children take comfort in each other.