A WARNING TO PEOPLE WHO HAVE READ MY PREVIOUS WORK: FOR THE MOST PART, THE WRITING I'VE DONE HAS FEATURED LOVING, MUTUAL AND VERY EROTIC SNUFF. THIS STORY IS VERY DIFFERENT FROM THAT AND CONTAINS SOME VERY VERY VIOLENT THEMES. I'M PURGING PART OF MY PAST WITH THIS ONE, SO YOU'RE ALL GOING TO SEE THE DARK AND EVIL SIDE OF KIMNIKKI IN THIS ONE. YOU'RE ALL ADULTS, AND THIS IS STRICTLY FANTASY, BUT I FIGURED I OWED THIS LITTLE WARNING TO MY "FANS" (GOD I FEEL ARROGENT USING THAT WORD).

Dianne watched her guest as he loosely held the two files. She still found him to be startlingly handsome, despite the fact he had just admitted to being a killer. Looking at him in that Mountie uniform it was hard to credit.

Maybe it had something to do with the fact that he was Canadian. That whole nation seemed somehow so quiet and mild, that it was hard to credit that they would have an organisation like The Watchers.

But even as she thought this, she remembered an incident from a few years ago. She remembered the World Series a few years back, when the Marines flew a Canadian flag upside down. The growls of anger could be heard around the world and in the end the US President had officially apologised to Canada on behalf of the US. She remembered her surprise at Canadian anger.

Perhaps it was the fact that they did not wave the flag around, or that they never seemed to glorify what they had done in the past. Whatever the reason, Dianne realised that she was not the only one who underestimated Canada, and Canadians by extension. The possibilities of how this could be used to a great advantage flooded through her mind.

Commissioner MacKenzie started to open up the Reaver and Spectre files, but then seemed to change his mind. He got up from his chair and walked over to Dianne's wet bar. He got himself a glass of ice water, then looked over to Dianne and General Max. Max asked for a whiskey, and Dianne asked for water as well. Holding the drinks he returned to his seat and continued his briefing.

"Yes Ms. Smith, I taught the people in these folders to kill. To kill with their hands, to kill with hand-to-hand weapons, and to kill with the modern weapons, guns and bombs. Once I was sure they were ready, we began our first field operations."

He sipped his ice water, and then pulled out some of the smaller folders. Inside where faded pictures of various crime scenes. Dianne thought it ironic that there was official RCMP seals on them. It had been Mounties who had done these killings.

"We started with those former Watchers who we knew were corrupted. Look into the crime rates for Canada in the late 80's; you'll see a spike in the unsolved murder rates for Toronto, Vancouver and Montreal. Between myself and 4 other field personal, we got 23 deep cover spies and never came close to being caught. The CIA still has open files on those murders; last I heard they figured that some kind of break up had happened in the KGB after The Watchers were disbanded, and this was a purge." MacKenzie spoke of the murders as if he were talking about the weather. He showed not the slightest remorse or regret if he showed any emotion it was pride.

"So The Watchers quietly faded away into history.or so the world thought."

"We have existed ever since as one of those hidden branches of government that Chris Carter and his ilk live on. But unlike "The Men In Black" of legend, we actually work for the good of people."

"As far as the whole world is concerned, The Watchers do not exist. We have been operating for 15 years now, and we've never once been exposed."

MacKenzie looked out the window, still speaking quietly.

"I could tell you about all the places we've been, and the people we've taken out. But why bother? Most of them looked like perfect accidents. Those that didn't were most often pointed messages to people who soon learned to leave my country the hell alone."

"Since I was made Commissioner, we have operated alone and apart. Only the Chief of Defence, the Department Chief of CSIS, and their two predecessors know we exist. I decide who lives, who dies, and who gets those messages."

"I don't decide arbitrarily; I have a clear set of priorities and I watch for what the people of Canada want. And I only go after those that pose a clear and immediate danger to Canada, or the peace of the world."

"I know all the stories Ms. Smith, of how a secret arm of a government that is not controlled by the people is dangerous. Well they are right.we are very dangerous. Because we have to be."

Dianne was frozen in place; listening to a tale of murder and revenge by the people of country she had often thought of as quiet and relatively weak.

"We take on those people who the world just can't seem to deal with. If the world seems to be doing fine with them, we don't interfere. But if somebody threatens us all, and especially my Canada, then they deal with us."

"Canada has been seen as a haven by the world. A place where freedom exists, but without the crime and self-destructive behaviour that seems to plague the States. Do you think that is a coincidence? Is it a product of different laws and ideas of what freedom means?" MacKenzie turned back from the window, and once more looked directly at Dianne.

"That is part of it of course, but why has the peace and good will held? Because I've killed, or had killed anyone who thought that he or she could take that away from us. We are a proud nation Ms. Smith, and I and mine work hard to make sure that there is a nation still there to be proud of."

"At first what threatened that peace was the fact that Canada physically stood between the States and the USSR. We spent the entire Cold War sleeping between a Bear and an Eagle who desperately wanted to kill each other. I knew then, as I know now, that if those two were ever to go to war, then Canada would be ground to dust by a pair of giants who really didn't give a damn for who got hurt between them."

"So more than once, when one of those two would have set flame to the world, we took care of the person holding the match. Even if that person thought they were doing good: a naïve child holding a match is just as likely to burn down your house as the maniac with the same match."

"Canada was doing that even before I was asked to re-make The Watchers. I know because I was one of those doing the work. I sometimes wonder if THAT was the reason I was asked to lead the new Watchers."

MacKenzie looked over at General Max, and then back at her. He seemed to be making some kind of internal decision. Then he nodded and continued his tale.

"Premiere Andropov of the Soviet Union did not die of a heart attack Ms. Smith."

Then he looked General Max straight in the eye. "And the shot in Dallas that November day did not come from Oswald's little Italian rifle. But even so, it didn't stop the insanity that was Vietnam."

Dianne would have scoffed at both of these statements, but something in MacKenzie's eyes told her that he was speaking the truth.

"That is why I went Max. I felt I owed it to him somehow I took his life to stop the war he was about to start. I felt it only fair that I risk my own when that war came about anyway. At least without him at the helm, only South East Asia went to hell. I stopped it from going global at least."

A muscle in General Max's jaw twitched, but after a bit, he seemed to relax. "I know Mackie.I remember those days. He would have started it with the Ruskies, but Jesus he was a good man!"

"The road to hell is paved with good intentions Maxie, and he would have gotten us all killed." MacKenzie still held Max's eyes, and he had not yet looked away or shown any shame.

"I know damn it, I know. Look, we can continue this later . we've got a different war to win right now. Finish briefing Dianne." Max downed the last of his whiskey, and poured himself another glass.

MacKenzie waited for several moments for Max to regain his composure, then he continued.

"Since the end of the cold war, we have had an additional mission. One that is more and more becoming our prime mission."

"Canada is not just a nation of lumber jacks and fishermen Ms. Smith. We are a collection of peoples and ideals of vastly differing cultures. It has caused a lot of friction, but we have learned to tolerate those differences. But along with that tolerance comes hate: hate from fools inside my land, and hate from those who despise Canada for taking in peoples they have tried to destroy."

"That hate has made us a target. The peace and calm of Canada would have been long gone but for The Watchers and myself. We go in those dark places where most dare not go, and we do the things needed to ensure that the flame of hate does not light a fuse in our country."

"So I, and those before me, used The Watchers to defuse bombs before anybody knew they were even ticking."

Once again, Mackenzie reached for the two files, and this time he broke the seals and opened them on her desk, along with the other 10 or so files in the big folder. Both Dianne and General Max leaned in close as he began to go over the contents.

"Sorry for the history lesson, but I figured that would clear up any questions about just how good my people are, and how they got to be where they are. I know all of them personally, and know what they are capable of."

He pulled out a personal file from each of the files. Then he laid those from the Reaver and Spectre files on top.

"The reason you need to trust me about their abilities is because of these two. These two are my best. They have never missed, and never failed to find their target."

"This," he said, pointing to one picture, "is Reaver. And this," he put his finger on the other, "is Spectre."

Then he held up a stack of reports. "And this is what they can do."

Barbanne looked at her secretary in disbelief. "Where in hell did you get the information to back this up Charlene?" There was a dangerous edge in her voice.

"Well Ma'am, I didn't actually get if from anywhere. All the reports from each department cross my desk for filing and briefings for you. I just sort of put it all together from everything I saw." Charlene shifting nervously in her chair. Her butt still ached from last nights session, and if she pissed Barbanne off enough she might wind up no butt left at all. "I can't confirm this of course, but it all adds up."

"All of our agents in Canada have credentials from their finance department. And the Canadian dollar has been taking a real nosedive lately, and their economy is heading for the dumper. Then you see that for some reason all of their budget figures are not working out."

"Add that to the fact that several key government auditors have either been murdered or had accidents and it all fits: You've got somebody in their finance department you're paying off to help us destabilise Canada." Charlene finished her explanation and then waited for Barbanne to respond. This was by far the biggest risk she had taken since joining the PDG, but it could also be her biggest pay off.

Barbanne started at the report, as well as the files her ambitious little secretary had put together. She read though it all one more time, letting Charlene squirm as the silence stretched out into long minutes. As much as she hated to admit it, it did all make sense. Damn, this was the kind of security leak that was going to give her a bleeding ulcer!

"All right then, since you've come this far you obviously have a reason for letting me know you've puzzled this out." Barbanne's anger was very genuine. This little waif of a woman had managed to put together what a legion of government spooks had missed.

"Well Ma'am, it's that report there," she said pointing to the newest report on top of the pile."

This report had arrived yesterday afternoon from her spy in the Finance Ministry, and she had been trying to figure out if he had lost his mind, or if he really had stumbled across something important.

"A secret society, operating out of Canada, that attempts to keep stability within Canada, and between East and West through assassination?" Barbanne could see that the reports pointed to such a thing, but it just seemed so wild.

"Well I can't prove it Ma'am, but when you look into the historical research departments files, and then look at what happened to your agents in Canada, what this guy claims makes a weird sort of sense." Charlene pointed to several key points in the files, where coincidences just seemed to pile up.

"And besides," she continued, "only a group of extremely well trained assassins would have been able to take out so many of our people so fast."

Barbanne looked them over again, and then nodded. "Hmmmm, true enough. But that doesn't explain how their cover was blown. How the hell did they find our agents so fast, and so accurately?"

"Well, like I said earlier, whoever your agent is he just has to be playing both ends against the middle. He's been supplying you with data on Canadian economic policy, as well as official identification and credentials. He might not know where or who your agents were, but he would know what names they were using." Charlene took a deep breath and continued.

"So he makes a bundle from us for betraying his country, and then he makes just as much more selling out your agents to the Canadians."

"So why then do you think we should follow up this?" Barbanne pointed to the file that made the wild assassins guild claims.

Charlene began ticking off things on her fingers. "First, if he was faking he would probably have come with a better story, and would claim to have more data. Secondly, we have 27 agents killed in just over a month. Thirdly, I wasn't able to find out who he is, but I was able to trace his posting to a computer somewhere in the Canadian Ministry of Finance. If anybody would be in the right place to stumble across something like this, it would be a government auditor."

Charlene took a deep breath, not faking her nervousness one bit. If she pushed this too far, Barbanne could easily fly into a rage. a killing rage.

"He probably works in whatever government office that's been handling their operations against us. More than likely he's been handling expense vouchers and travel receipts and put it all together from separate clues. Just like I did with about him in the first place." She almost held her breath waiting for Barbanne to see if Barbanne would react. When she didn't say or do anything, Charlene continued.

"And if this is real, he has a perfect way out. He betrays these people, charges us a fortune for it, and then uses that money to make a new life and hide from everybody; them and us."

"Yeah, sure he can. With $10,000,000 US he can vanish! Greedy bastard, but I'll give him that he has balls asking for that much. Maybe I should have them stuffed in his mouth?"

Barbanne thought it over, running over everything in her mind. She badly needed a break in Canada there had to be some way she could use this to her advantage. Then a little light went on in the back of her head.

"I hate being lead by the nose, but I don't see much alternative either. And there is even an opportunity here." Barbanne's expression changed from an angry scowl to a smile. Charlene felt a shudder go up her spine from that smile.

"If you're right about all this Charlene then you just went from my executive secretary to my head of field intelligence in North America. If you're wrong, then I'll make what we did last night seem like a tea party. Deal?"

Charlene returned Barbanne's smile. "Yes Ma'am. deal."

"Good girl. Now, get Hecate on the secure line while I call up our avaricious little friend." The smile on Barbanne's face would have scared a Mafia Don into a fit.

2 Days later: Point Pleasant Park, Halifax Nova Scotia

Hecate slowly and carefully scanned the open area of the park through her scope.

'He should be here by now,' she thought to herself.

She had hated being pulled off PoToDo so abruptly. She had almost found a way to get into the pontiff's apartments when she had been ordered to head to Canada. Well, this one should be fairly straightforward. Once she was done she could back to stalking that twisted dried up old man. Damn he was a slippery one!

The problem she had was that she had no idea who her target was. She knew he was male, or at least the person would be dressed as a man. There had been one witness to the killings of her fellow PDG agents. That witness said she had seen a well-dressed man running from the scene with blood on his hands.

He also would probably be very fit, in excellent physical condition. Some of the killings had been very physical and very violent. That would take great skill and physical prowess, especially against agents of the PDG. She was the best of them all, but she knew that none of them were pushovers.

She continued to scan the crowd. There were lots of people there all the better to send a message. An old women with her grandchildren, several couples enjoying the day, a dozen or so businessmen and women on lunch, a city cop on patrol in the park ..etc...

She did not have a picture of her targets or even a description; THAT made what would have been a routine killing a great challenge. And she was always up for a challenge. She would have to decide who her target was from all the clues. But in her line of work, being out of shape got you killed, so she could count out at least half the people down there.

From what Barbanne had told her, he also would not be operating alone. The killings looked like the work of a team.

"I want to send a message to these people, as well as to that greedy little fuck we've got working for us," Barbanne had said. "I still don't know exactly who he is, but up until my girls started getting killed he was a good resource. He claims up hill and down dale that he's had nothing to do with that."

"He told me over the phone that he's going to meet with a couple of them by claiming he knows how my girls got into the country." Hecate had listened quietly to Barbanne's voice, wondering what she was up to.

"I had the Internet provider he uses tapped, and managed to get some of his e-mail. He's going to meet with a couple of these killers in Halifax. It's just possible that he's legit so I don't want you kill him.I want you to take out whoever he meets with right in front of him and as many witnesses as possible."

Barbanne's voice had the same purring quality of a cat that had just swallowed a canary. "These people think they can match me and my girls blow for blow, well I want you to show them they are wrong dead wrong."

"Of course Barbanne, my pleasure as always," Hecate had told her boss and Mistress. "So what does the traitor look like? If I can pick him out, it won't be hard to figure out who my targets are."

"I don't know that either he contacted us the first time. But he should be easy enough to spot. He's got a lisping voice, sounds like and older man, and he's an office clerk. Just look for a dumpy guy who looks like a wimp eventually somebody who looks like James Bond should walk up and have a chat." Then Barbanne's voice got a husky sound to it that same excited sexual sound that always turned Hecate on.

"And if you're not sure just take out everybody there that you think fits. Lots of blood and gore wouldn't hurt either. Like I said, I want to send a message. Once you're done get out of Canada and come back here. I want you in my rooms to tell me all about it. You can meet my sweet little secretary and we can have some fun where her while you're here."

Hecate had felt herself get wet at the idea of that, and she felt herself getting wet now as well, but for a different reason. She usually preferred to kill close up, so she could feel the agony of her victim, and feel the life flowing away. But she loved to kill by any means, and she could feel her nipples getting hard as she swept the area over and over again, imagining heads bursting with each round she fried. Besides, she had a plan for her first target when she found him, and she knew how much what she did would turn Barbanne on.

Then she stopped as her scope swept past one of the couples sitting on the benches in the park. He fit the mould perfectly; balding and in his 50's. He had a small gut, not huge but a gut none the less. He looked dumpy and dull, but was wearing a good suit, which the money he got from Barbanne would let him buy. He was also looking around the area, obviously looking for somebody.

But the clincher in her mind was the woman at his side. Much younger than him, the small but beautiful red head clung to his arm, simpering up at him. A trophy wife just the kind of thing a man like that would have. God men were such pigs! Then again, any woman who let herself be used like that was a weak and useless bit of fluff anyway. Nothing but an animated fuck doll. Hecate hated women who were like that.

The woman got up, a bag of popcorn in her hand. She moved over to the trees and began feeding some squirrels. She laughed and said something to the man, then turned back to the squirrel begging for more popcorn. She was easily in her twenties, but she looked like she had the brain of a little girl. God what a waste of a great body!

The man ignored her, continuing to look around, obviously waiting for his meeting.

What an idiot, bringing her along to this meet. Probably wanted to impress her with what he was up to. Hecate doubted if he had anything impressive on that body of his.

"Well," Hecate whispered to herself, "whoever you've come to meet should be watching you too."

Hecate began sweeping all the areas that had a clear view of that bench.

"Spectre, can you hear me," Reaver said quietly.

"Loud and clear, no interference at all. You got something?"

"No," Reaver replied, "this bitch is the best yet. Patient and smooth, but even if it's just a job to her, she's bound to get excited. Excited people make mistakes; don't worry old friend I'll spot her."

"Worry, why should I worry? I'm only sitting here with my ass hanging in the wind, waiting for some psycho bitch to put a bullet through my head. So what have I got to be worried about?" Spectre's voice was heavy with sarcasm.

"You want to call it off? If you feel too exposed I'll call this whole thing off and we get her some other time." Reaver had been partnered with Spectre for 11 years.

"No, no sorry. it's just that we've never operated this exposed before. Giving me the jitters." Spectre was sure he could feel a rifle site focused on his temple.

"I know, me too. At least here in the park we can get a clear signal. I hate all the interference in the city."

Spectre shifted his position, his eyes still glued to the traitor and his companion. Not bad looking that one, 'how did you ever wind up with that' he thought to himself.

"At least our 'friend' is easy to spot," Spectre said, his eyes sweeping the area again and then returning to the traitor and the cutie.

"We better make contact he's starting to look nervous. I'll keep looking for her, if I spot anything I'll let you know."

"Right, watch my back partner."

"As always partner," Reaver said, "just remember .she's mine."

Hecate kept sweeping, all along the edge of the park clearing. She was starting to feel that familiar buzz between her legs, her nipples were now very hard.

She controlled it strongly however, she would relax and enjoy her kill once the targets where down.

Then suddenly she saw something that caught her attention; a flash of metal or glass where there should not have been one.

"There you are," she hissed as she finally found her target.

He was sitting on the bench opposite the swine and his bimbo. He was dressed in a finely tailored suit, fit tan and rather good looking. She focused her scope in tighter and could see the telltale bulge of body armour under the clothes.

What had caught the light was a tiny earpiece that looked like a hearing aid. Hecate knew that it was a short-range radio. "Hmmmm, silly to let me see that. Then again you're not used to being the hunted and you think I'm here for the traitor don't you?" An evil grin flashed behind Hecate's camouflaged mask.

"So where is the other end of that radio," Hecate said to herself again, sweeping all around the clearing once more.

Then she saw a very good looking young man in short, tee shirt and running shoes, warming up against one of the benches 20 or so feet from the first agent. As he bent, she saw the butt of a pistol sticking out from the back of his shorts, as well as the glint of the earpiece.

She could see both of them whispering, obviously they had hidden mikes on them somewhere.

Hecate cycled the bolt of her gun. The feel of the metal gliding out and then back in always reminded her of the feel of a strap-on as she slid it into one of her slaves. She carefully controlled her breathing, but it was always hard to fight her excitement.

She gave a small moan as she lined up her first target in the scope. Her targets where roughly 450 yards away through heavy brush, and were moving. Not an easy shot, even for her.

"Oh this is perfect," she whispered snuggling the butt of her rifle tight into her shoulder.

Then she drew aim very very carefully. This would be a tricky shot at this range, and she had to make the hit precisely.

"Bingo," Reaver said excitedly, "I've got her."

"Where? Where the hell is she, I can't find her." Spectre could feel that same itch at his temple again.

"In the woods, don't worry, I've got her cold. You go meet our 'friend', and I'll take her out." Reaver's voice held a touch of excitement. "You're safe. I promise you'll be fine." Reaver sounded confident.

Spectre had served with Reaver a long time, and had learned trust over the years.

"Okay, here we go. I'm giving the signal."

Hecate felt her pussy getting wetter and wetter as the pig got up from his bench, and at the same time the agent, her prey, an assassin as good as herself, got up from his.

She kept her aiming point locked on, waiting for the perfect moment. The two men closed the distance to each other, closer closer. Then they met, and the two shook hands.

She could feel her pussy tingle as she took up the pressure on the trigger, and then several things happened all at once as the tension in the trigger broke and the gun fired.

The first was the thundering boom as the rifle sent its lethal load down range. Then the gun kicked into her shoulder sending a shock down her body which made her grunt and made her nipples and pussy respond. The grunt was not that of pain, but the same one she gave when her pussy was being thrust into.

Then she gave a small cry of joy as her shell hit home exactly where she aimed.

It took the first agent in his left side, just above his hip. His body armour was no use against this round; a 7.62 semi-armour piercing round with an explosive warhead. It cut through his armour like cheese and then went almost all the way through the soft wet tissues of his gut before exploding 2 inches from his right side.

The man gave a horrid screech, heard even over the echoes of her shot as a 4-inch hole was torn out of right side, between his rib cage and hip. A massive spray of blood, tissue, bits of intestine and chunks of his liver fanned out from the wound, spraying the ground around him and the man who's hand he was shaking.

The impact spun him almost completely around, ripping his hand from the dumpy pigs, and turning him so that she could see his face. He had a look of total shock, surprise and agony as he sank to his knees.

Hecate moaned in near orgasmic joy, quickly cycling another shell into the barrel. Then she carefully lined up her next shot, took a second to control her breath, and fired again. A small squeal of delight escaped her lips as the recoil struck her shoulder and her bullet met flesh.

The second agent, who had been rushing to his partner to pull him into cover screamed in pain and shock as the explosive bullet hit him in the left knee. There was a small 'crack' as the warhead exploded and the knee simply vanished in a spray of blood, bone and tissue. He fell backward onto the bench, bouncing off onto the ground as he left leg below the knee went spinning off in the other direction. Blood fountained from the severed arteries as he kicked and writhed on the ground.

All this took less than 6 seconds. Hecate was the best.she could have had them both dead by now and been taking her escape route out, but Barbanne had said to send a message.

The crowd by now was realising something was very wrong, and several people where screaming and pointing at the two horribly wounded men. Some were beginning to run, and some where scrambling for cover or just lying on the ground, trying to hide.

Hecate could just hear the shrieks and screams at this distance, and it was the loveliest of music. Good how she loved to kill and main and inflict terror!

Hecate was panting with lust now, her pussy soaking her panties, very close to orgasm. She cycled another bullet, seeing the image of ramming a massive dildo into the first agents puckered butt.

She took aim at him once more again taking time to control her breathing. She paused for a moment as the fat pig who had started all this ran across her line of sight, covered in blood and intestines, squealing in panic and scrambling for a place to hide.

As he cleared the line of fire, Hecate pulled the trigger, crying out in pleasure at the effect as her shot hit home.

The bullet hit him just above his groin, ripping into his body and exploding as it hit his pelvis. There was a burst of blood and gore and bone, like a balloon popping as the shock wave blasted his cock, his balls and most of crotch into shredded meat.

He gave one last ear splitting scream and pitched forward onto the grass. His hands clawed the ground in agony, ripping up hunks of grass.

Eleven seconds had now passed, and Hecate knew that the park police would be closing already, drawn by the thunder of her rifle. Time to warp it up. Her second target had managed to pull himself behind a small tree. Hecate smiled and lined him up behind it. "Bad move Mister Assassin, at least from THIS gun", she whispered. She gave a shuddering cry as she pulled the trigger, her orgasm nearly complete. She gave another cry a split second later as her orgasm was triggered by what she saw in her scope.

The armouring piercing bullet ripped through the soft wood tree, pushed a fraction of an inch into the bone in the agent's forehead and then exploded. The blast tore open the front of his head, splashing his frontal lobes against the tree and slamming him against the small mound behind him. His eyes stared up into infinity as his brains dripped out of his skull, his body jerking and shaking.

Hecate turned her attention back to the first agent, barely able to hold the gun still as her pussy screamed in pleasure. He had curled into a ball around his ruined privates. His face was a mask of agony of betrayal as he tried to hold in his giblets. Hecate felt a second powerful spasm shake her body and fill her with pleasure as he gave one last convulsive shudder and then lay staring at nothing on the grass.

Hecate dropped her gun where it was, panting with the effects of two powerful back to back orgasms. She began to peel off the layer of camouflage, moving quickly. Underneath she has on jogging clothes which she had already covered in dirt and leaves to make it look like she had made a panicked dash through the woods. She would melt into the crowd of panicked park goers and run out with them.

All in all this had been much better than she thought. She had be able to kill to enemy agents, probably two of the best, and she had been able to do it with great pain. And she had sent a very strong message at the same time.

She ran one hand over her breasts, feeling the last shaky waves of pleasure fading. This had been a good assignment. Barbanne would be pleased.

"The Mounties always get their man.HA! And what if that 'man' is a women? You fools aren't ready for us yet." Hecate took only last look at the two dead men in the clearing, then turned to take her escape route.

What she did not see was the stealthy figure that was waiting for her just down the jogging path.

This story is strictly a fantasy story. It is for purposes of entertainment and fantasy only. None of the characters are real, nor are any of the stories. If you're looking for real life death and mayhem, please try the news.