Gunpoint: A case of crossed wires

40 dead. 31 injured. 20 jobs. $13,000. The week echoed in my mind like something that happened in the last week.

They don't let me name names on this blog, but the person behind the hit I was investigating is probably being picked up by the East Point police about now.

Killing him wasn't worth the stain on my relatively new coat.

The trigger man's going down. I thought that would feel good. It did.

I don't know.

I guess I picked the least ♥♥♥♥♥♥ of two incredibly ♥♥♥♥♥♥ sides.

Maybe that doesn't matter. Maybe all that matters is that I now have the ability to kick down doors.

Either way, I think I need 10ccs of ketamine and a Columbo marathon.