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The moment it slipped her lips she regretted it. All this time, this training, this hate; it can't culminate in such a dud!

"DIE!!!"

No wit. No cleverness. No pithy illusions to past battles. She had brainstormed in flophouses and hideouts in seven continents. And now that she had his thick, treacherous skull lined up in her sights, that was it?

But then through the shattered glass, she heard the rejoinder.

"Die!"

*Oh thank god.* He had choked. His last word would be a pitiful, failed retort.

But then one more echo, from behind, as the blades pierced her back.

Copyright (c) 2021 by Hugh Mackey