Page 5 of Shenanigans

The piss-poor shot spun around and leveled the Desert Eagle at my chest. “Move and you die. Who sent you?”

I crossed myself. “The holy Father. This is the work of the devil.”Boom!A bullet whizzed by my ear. “Shit!”

“You’re not Catholic and you’re not even a nun.”

Crap. What had given me away? I bluffed, “I’m from Our Lady of Solitude Monastery.”

“And I’m the Pope,” Tomas said and cocked his pistol. “Who sent you? Was it Maria? Are you an undercover cop?”

I gave Tomas my best clueless look and shook my head. “Take his gun,”I ordered the hawk.

The hawk flew in, snatched the gun out of Tomas’s hand and landed on a rafter.

“Fuck! What are you? A god-damned witch?” The pendejo roared and charged me.

I waited until he got close enough, then I spun and kicked him in the balls with my steel-toed boot.

With a grunt of pain, Tomas crumpled to the floor.

“Never take the Lord’s name in vain, dickwad.”

Way too many sirens sounded in the distance.

Time to leave.

The big, muscle-bound biker stepped out of a dark corner with a .45 caliber Ruger in his right hand. “Nice move,Sister.”

“I am merely the Lord’s warrior.” I said in a whispery voice and summoned a nearby flock of pigeons.

“Put your hands up,Sister.”

I knew that voice! It was Dutch, the asshole. Did he know about the finger? Duh, he was a homicide cop. Would he think I had something to do with a murder? Probably.

Dutch bellowed, “Hands up!”

Damn. Did they teach scary voice in the police academy? Cause it really worked. I raised my hands and twirled a finger.

The pigeons flew through the door and swirled madly around Dutch’s head. He stumbled backwards as the birds hammered him with their wings.

I unleashed a series of snap-kicks into his gut, knocking him back into the cage. I had been wanting to kick Dutch’s ass for some time now and my prayers had finally been answered. The pigeons continued their assault as I locked the door.

The hawk dropped the Desert Eagle.

Thunk!It hit Dutch on the head, dropping him to his knees.

Ouch! That was gonna leave a nasty bruise. If Dutch ever figured out who I was, he would gleefully lock me up for the next hundred years.

A vicious growl that would have done a Mastiff proud erupted from my pocket.

“You are one dead puta and the little dog too,” Tomas threatened as he climbed to his feet.

I looked down. Tinkerbell’s head was poking out of my habit and her teeth were bared in a fierce snarl.

The hawk shrieked a warning. Through our link I could see bikers, winos and junkies running toward the warehouse with weapons in their hands. Yippee, undercover cops. Lucky me. I had just walked into the middle of a sting operation.

“The police are here pendejo, and I’m sure they have a lot to discuss with you.”

“Dead. Do you hear me? Dead and the little dog too.” Tomas ran out a side door.

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