A case of crossed wires

12 dead. 30 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. That would have felt good if I hadn't just taken a seven story body slam...

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.