Chapter 45



“I’m sorry,” said Pepe, “I do not believe you.”  With a sudden thrust, Pepe pushed the tip of his Opinel into Christophe’s throat at once severing his jugular and puncturing his larynx.

Christophe’s knees went weak and his hands wrapped his throat to block the sputtering blood.  Pepe squeezed his shoulders to support him and gently backed him up to the building.  Pepe slowly stepping backwards while his eyes scanned the parking lot for witnesses.  There were none.  When Pepe felt the wall on their backs, he gently eased Christophe down to a sitting position then kneeled in front of him.

Blood already soaked Christophe’s t-shirt and he gasped for breath.  His sunglasses had fallen off when Pepe had set him down and now his eyes stared wide at Pepe, still pleading on his behalf.  Christophe tried to speak releasing only scarlet bubbles and short high-pitched wheezes.

Pepe said in a soft voice, “Do not try to speak.  I would make it short for you, and I am sure you would like me too.  I cannot.”  Christophe held one hand away from his throat, impotently grasping at Pepe.  Pepe did not flinch, safely out of Christophe’s reach.

“Now, now,” said Pepe, “You know why I cannot.  Cameron told me you were a traitor.  That because of you many people died.”

Christophe rested the arm that he had taken such effort to claw toward Pepe.  His eyes also rested, no longer wide.

“You will go fast enough,” said Pepe.  “Use this time to think about your mistakes.  It builds character.”  Pepe patted Christophe atop his tweed cap, stood, and then walked away.

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