Passing Doves - Chapter 4 - Err

Simon has tightened the noose on his doves. He is ready to strike.

"Yeah, Honda K24 turbo swap and a TRQ suspension kit." says Simon as he pours himself a cup of water. 

"That is a nice combo. I heard someone got about 800HP out of that in a Civic. Alright, do you already have the motor and suspension kit or do you want us to order everything and install? 

�"�"�"

The BOD-D was full of carefully selected items. Each of these items came from a different state to avoid any and all suspicion. Simon figured that obtaining these items was akin to cooking meth; never buy everything in the same place. Simon thought about Walter White as he drove to various pawnshops looking for body armor, a taser, and a ballistics helmet. 

The Rustins weren't very competitive doves. They were very easy to contort and leave for dead. These new doves wouldn't be like that. They had guns, two to be exact, if what he said was true at K & H Tuners.

Why wouldn't it be true? Simon knew people trusted him because of his looks, especially in the expensive neighborhoods of Dallas. He looks like them; white, nicely dressed, has tell- tale signs of wealth, and fits in just about everywhere. Sitting in a black Honda in a random neighborhood was no problem. Simon had seen plenty of videos of Black people being harassed for just existing and knows that he is pretty much invisible to the authorities and to anyone that looks like him.

What a climate to hunt doves in! Simon laughs to himself as he thinks about being excluded from an investigation with a bloody knife and two severed heads in his hands. Simon's laugh turns to anger as he scolds himself again for not buying body armor and a ballistic helmet before any of the hunts began. 

Things like that get you caught. 

That didn't matter now. Only the hunt matters. The last light in the house turns off; 11PM. This was about the same time it had been for the past 3 days; routine makes hunting so much deadlier. 

Simon's watch strikes 2AM as he quickly exits the Civic and heads for the front door, hoping the door is unlocked as he twists the handle. Locked. Simon shakes his head in slight disappointment, sets a timer on his watch, and begins to pick the lock. 1:10.47; 30 seconds faster than his last practice run. The door pops open revealing his canvas, soon to be painted, soon to be viewed. 

Simon quietly puts his BOD-D on the tile floor and pulls the zipper. He smiles as the contents are slowly revealed. Simon holsters his Glock, pockets the garrote wire, and readies his new taser. 

Simon walks down the long hallway leading to the master bedroom; slowly, cautiously, not giving the doves a chance to fly away. Simon pauses and listens carefully,

"Yeah, I could use some Jack. Do you want ice or not?" 

Simon slips into an open bedroom waiting for the dove to pass.

He stands in the open doorway, silent, the dark concealing him, and watches as the man from the tuner shop walks by him, oblivious. 

Simon's heart jumps as he thinks about making this hunt dirty. No binding, no sneaking, just a f*****g fight to the death. 

The Rustin's just laid down and died. Justin was nothing but a f*****g coward with no balls. Just a weakling that watched as his wife had the life drained from her. 

Everything according to plan. Everything. Or just beat his a*s to death in the kitchen while he pours Jack for his dead wife. 

Before Simon can weigh the options he finds himself walking to the kitchen, standing there watching as the man bobs his head and pours drinks. No gun, just boxers and a tank top. 

Go.

Simon rushes into the kitchen as his dove turns around with a look of sheer panic in his eyes. Simon grabs the bottle of Jack and smashes it across his face, knocking him backward. Simon nods his head in approval as the man absorbs the blow, keeping his footing. 

A fight to the death it is.

"What the f**k?! Who..." his pointless question cut short as Simon kicks him hard in the stomach dropping him immediately. He throws up and groans in pain. Simon gets behind him and locks in a tight rear naked choke while focusing on the kitchen entryway.

He smiles as he realizes this is much more thrilling than the first time. How about the 3rd, 6th, or 20th time? It was fated to intensify and satiate each time.

He was out. 

Simon releases the choke and watches as his head bounces off the kitchen floor. Simon stares intently at the entryway and has a moment of shame as he realizes his mistake; two doves on either side of the house. 

Together is the only way to kill doves. 

Panicked and upset with his lack of clear thought and control, Simon scrambles to think of a plan, but nothing comes to mind. 

F**k! 

Simon quickly binds his feet and hands then heads toward the master bedroom to take care of the wife,

"Make it fast, Simon. Make it fast." He says under his breath. 

He unholsters his Glock and slowly pushes the door open; hearing muffled music through her headphones. The door flings open as Simon rushes her with his gun trained at her head. Her eyes widen as she puts her hands up,

 "What do you want?!" She looks around and starts to cry softly,

 "Where is Jonathan?" she says as she places her hands on the blanket,

"I know you have two guns. His is black and yours is pink. Where are they?" Simon says as he walks closer to her. 

She stares at him for a moment, 

"We don't have any guns in our house! We have children here, please just leave!" 

Simon hits her with the butt of the gun cutting open her forehead,

"You are lying! There are no children but there are guns!" 

Simons face contorts in anger, 

"B***h! I will kill you right here and now! Where are they?!" The butt of the gun smacks against her nose,

"Tell me now you f*****g w***e!"

"OK, OK!" she shouts, holding back tears, "They are under the pillow."

Simon nods in approval feeling like he regained some control over his canvas,

"Stand up."

Simon grabs the Glocks from underneath the pillow and shoves them in his waistband, "Walk to the kitchen. Your husband is waiting." 

Simon trains the gun at the back of her head as they slowly walk down the hallway. He tosses the guns into the extra bedroom before they enter the kitchen.

Just as they reach the kitchen Simon sees the husband is not only awake, but is breaking the tape around his legs with his free hands.

Simon shoulder charges the wife sending her crashing into her husband and the counter.  Simon points the Glock at the two of them, 

"Tie her up or..." Simon cuts himself off and stares at the two doves; He can't make up his mind. Clean or dirty? 

Unlike the Rustins, these doves have fight in their eyes. 

Simon holsters the Glock and stares at the two,

"To brave to fly away," Simon walks to the counter and picks up the broken bottle of Jack,

"and too stupid to know you're dead."

Simon rushes the two thrusting the broken bottle into her face, she screams in agony as the jagged glass shoves into her face, lacerating and blinding her. She reels back as her husband looks at her in horror. "Son of a goddamn b***h! What do you want?! What the hell do you want?" shouts the husband in a desperate panic.

Simon shakes his head, "Everything you got." 

The man stares at him as he holds his wife close, "Then take it! Take it all! We won't move!"

"Alright," says Simon as he looks at the blood stained bottle, "Be a good little coward and tie your b***h up," trying to get a rise out of him, "and make it quick. Your stuck pig is bleeding all over the floor."

"F**k you." says his wife weakly.

Simon smiles,

"I am sure you'd like that." Simon pulls out the Glock and points it at the two,

"but dead girls aren't my type."

The wife starts to bawl uncontrollably and buries her face in her husband's chest. 

Simon looks at the him, "Tape your feet together."

He complies and a few moments later he is sitting on the floor, legs bound. The wife softly touches her face while sobbing.

"Don't worry," Simon says as he holsters the Glock, 

"I will leave soon."

Simon picks up the bottle of Jack and thrusts it into her face again. She falls to the floor grasping at her mangled face. Simon straddles her and drives the bottle into her already shredded face. 

Over and over and over.

Blood paints the cabinets and walls as the bottle begins to shatter in his gloved hand.

Dead. 

Simon looks at the husband who is tearing at his taped ankles, "I will kill you! I will kill you!" shouts the husband as he slowly drags himself toward Simon.

Simon thinks back to boring Justin who just sat there. He just sat there and let Hanna die. Cowardly dove. This dove wasn't like him at all. 

Simon smiles as he walks behind him and picks him up by his arms, "OK, you will kill me, right? The dove wants to flap its wings. Alright, let's see." 

Simon, more confident and alive than he has ever been, walks him down the hallway and trips him into the bedroom. The fall finally breaks the tape and the man leaps onto the bed and runs his hands under the pillows,

"Your wife told me where the guns were," Simon laughs, "and she also said you didn't have the f*****g stones to protect her." 

The man stares at Simon for a moment then lowers his head. Simon starts to laugh, realizing that this man was the exact same as Justin. No, he is actually more of a coward. 

Suddenly, the man lets out a guttural scream and rushes forward. Simon caught off guard, reaches for the taser but is sent flying through the closed door of an extra bedroom.

Simon leaps to his feet completely shocked by the dove. Simon bolts out the bedroom and into the kitchen. He wasn't there. 

How did he let this happen?

Simon spins around as looks out the open door, "F**k, f**k, f**k!" Simon says as he runs to the door and peers out into the street where he sees the man running and screaming for help. Simon lets out a sigh of relief as he notices the husband is running in the opposite direction of the Civic. 

Simon raises his gun and points it at him sure that he could hit his mark. He lowers his weapon and punches a hole in the wall, 

"F**k! Stupid, stupid, stupid!" 

Simon grabs the BOD-D and heads for the door. He stops for a moment, thinking, and walks back into the kitchen. 

He stares at her dead body, infuriated, picks up a shard of glass, rips off her shirt and carves, "Fly Away" into her stomach and breasts.

Time to go.

Simon speeds out of the neighborhood and onto the main road. "F**k! Simon, what the hell, man! What the f**k! How, how, how did this happen? How?! Why didn't I just stick with the plan? Losing control?! Why, damn it!"

But that feeling of killing her openly. Better than the Rustins. No tape, no sneaking, no hiding. Just an improvised glass bottle. 

Simon punches the steering wheel in a rage. "F**k! The DPD will be all over me! F*****g 3 doves? Three!"

Simon suddenly burst out laughing, remembering he is rich. "All I have to do is get out of the country and let the heat die down. Easy." 

3 days later Simon is sipping Jack on the rocks atop the 34th floor of the Hilton Pattaya.