The parking spots on the street were a tad scarce, more than likely due to a current party, but Allison managed to find one and parallel parked the vehicle like a professional. Her and her brother were in a white Hyundai, nothing special about it and nothing to draw the attention to. Before they left home, Allison had switched out the tags; the one currently attached to the vehicle stolen from another white Hyundai. The young woman switched off the headlights before turning off the car.

Prior to that evening, the siblings had done various stakeouts of the home that was currently across the street. The area was nice, middle-class neighborhood. The homeowner they were targeting appeared to be an attorney, given the suits she wore every morning when she left home and the briefcase she carried to her car. That, or at the very least, she was upper management somewhere. She also appeared to be single; no partner, kids or any other family living with her.

"Come on, it's go time," she motioned for Gabe to follow her out of the car after taking the empty pizza box from his hands. She had her old Domino's shirt underneath a black jacket and the labeled hat to complete the uniform. Her short, black hair was tied back into what could pass as a ponytail. But the plan was simple: ring the doorbell and fool the woman for long enough to force themselves into her home.

Th siblings made their way across the street without saying a word to each other. And they didn't need to as the plan had already been discussed. Allison looked around for a moment, making sure no one had eyes on them. When they reached the steps of the front porch, she spoke again.

"Remember, just stick tot he plan and we'll be fine."

She liked reassuring her little brother. Life was anything but easy for the both of them, but she was all he had, and for some reason, she felt she owed him.

Allison then rung the doorbell and waited. A few moments later she heard footsteps. "Coming."

The same woman they had watched for some time finally opened the door.

"Hi there. Sorry for the delay, we're short on drivers. But at least we have another in training," she motioned towards her brother, smiling.

"Sorry dear, I believe you have the wrong house." Up close, the woman looked to be in her late 30s or early 40s. She had medium length brown hair and blue eyes. Not too pretty, but not ugly either. She wasn't overweight and was just about an inch or two shorter than Allison. She was as average as they came.

Allison's eyes widened. "Oh. Well, I guess I'm the one who needs training. Sorry about that..." With a gloved hand, Allison reached behind her back for the Glock 26 tucked within her waistband and aimed it at the woman's face, the tip of the barrel a few inches from her.

"If you scream, you die. Is there anyone in the house?" Her smile was gone by then, and the woman knew they weren't playing around. She shook her head, her lip trembling before tears followed. "Back the fuck up, now." Allison pushed her way in, the gun still pointed at the woman. Once her and Gabe were inside and the door was closed and locked, Allison dropped the pizza box from their earlier binge. She forced the woman against the wall, her free hand grabbing the switchblade from her pocket and placing it against her neck. "Here, take this," Allison called to Gabe, slapping the handgun against his chest when he stepped next to her. Allison then covered the woman's mouth, and without so much as a warning, plunged the blade into her side as deep as it would go. The woman's scream was stifled, but she didn't put up a fight. She was an easy target. Her legs were giving out and Allison pulled out the blade and stepped back, letting the woman collapse to the floor. She then turned to Gabe.

"Easier than expected. Let's see what goodies she has."

Gabriel had gotten into a routine with his big sister after coming home. She worked at the club and Gabe protected her. He considered looking for a job, but his big sister was taking care of him so far and he was pretty cool with that. It was a good deal.

Gabe was unsure if his sister could do what needed to be done here. He actually kind of hoped he could do the deed, but he would follow his sister’s lead. As they climbed out of the white 2007 Hyundai, Allison shot him one line out of the side of her mouth without looking at him, "Remember, just stick to the plan and we'll be fine."

“No problem, Alli. You’re the boss,” Gabriel responded as he followed her up the front walk to the house. He looked around the neighborhood. The house was a brick and stone Victorian like many of the older houses in Emerson Gardens, one of Boston’s wealthy Brookline neighborhoods. A house like this would sell for about three hundred thousand out in the western part of the state, but here in the city, it sold for north of a million, easy. The houses were all so close together too, unlike what you find in the country or even the suburbs. “This chick’s got to be loaded living in a house like this. We should find something here.”

Standing on the walkway at the bottom of the steps, he watched his sister ring the doorbell. She glanced at Gabriel. He gave her a quick curt smile. They heard a voice from inside call out, "Coming."

Allison played the role of the Pizza delivery person as if that was her job. She was confident and had that lilt to her voice making her sound like she was no threat to the woman. "Hi there. Sorry for the delay, we're short on drivers. But at least we have another in training." Allison’s arm and head gestured toward Gabriel.

Gabriel raised an arm in mock salute with a slight smile.

Obviously, the woman had not ordered a pizza and wanted to tell the siblings they must have come to the wrong house. She called Allison dear; a term that pissed Gabe off. He wanted to pop her cherry right then, but he promised his sister, he would let her make the call. No joy this go around. The woman actually looked mildly attractive to Gabriel. He preferred his women younger and would seek out a younger woman for a future gig. But Allison set this one up and he would back her. Maybe Gabe could pick the next one. Knowing Allison, he knew she would consider the woman to be on the ugly side, but in fact Gabe knew she would definitely do in a pinch.

Allison feigned confusion about her alleged faux-pas. But before she could back out and leave, she produced a 9mm subcompact; one of those polymer constructions pieces intended to defeat metal detectors. She shoved the pistol into the woman’s face and forced her back into the house. Allison’s tone was serious. Gabriel quickly followed her inside.

"If you scream, you die. Is there anyone in the house?" The woman was terrified. It really excited Gabriel to see her this way. He really wanted to have her, just to see the doe eyes filled with tears as he had his way with her. But he would let Alli run the show tonight.

Gabriel closed and locked the door as they entered. Gabriel approached Allison just as she thrust her pistol into his chest. He took the handgun, pulled slightly on the slide to see the one brass cartridge visible in the chamber, then let it slip back inside. He removed the magazine and noticed there were nine rounds inside. He couldn’t not take the weapon and know what it could do. He had ten rounds if he needed them.

Gabriel was surprised by his sister’s next move. She covered the woman’s mouth, who Gabriel and just come to learn was Meredith. He saw a pile of mail all addressed to someone named Meredith Feinberg. Before Gabriel could tell her sister the woman’s name, she pulled out a switchblade, opened it and stuck it in the woman’s side. Poor Meredith wasn’t looking so well after that. Real hard to act sober after your liver has been lacerated. She swayed slightly. Maybe she passed out? Taking one knife wound shouldn’t kill a person, unless she was left to bleed out. He watched her fall to the floor and the dark red liquid slowly seeped onto the hardwood floor making a gradually growing puddle.

Allison looked at her brother, "Easier than expected. Let's see what goodies she has."

Gabriel looked longingly at the woman for several moments. He really wanted her, but not like this. He wanted the sexual gratification before the death, not after. He decided the moment was gone and began searching the house with his sister.

After a thorough search, Gabriel produced eight hundred dollars in cash; all Benjamins stuffed in her bra and underwear drawer. She also had a fine collection of gold necklaces and rings. Her credit cards might last for a few days before the companies call about fraud.

“Not a bad haul, sis,” Gabriel said after telling her what he found. He looked back at Meredith; her pool of blood ever widening before they headed out into the night.

---

The next morning…



Roll call had been the usual. The shift supervisor told them daily to leave the businesses in the Combat Zone alone. Whatever they did was the mayor’s problem, not ours. Apparently, the mayor told the chief to leave them alone.

Jimmy Graham drove the black 2014 Dodge Charger with dark tinted glass away from the police precinct at 101 West Broadway and headed up toward Brookline. He had no place to go but felt like heading in that direction. He was hoping to stop at one of his favorite Italian bakeries. His mom was a hundred percent Italian. He was raised on Cannolis and biscottis. He and his partner, Jenna Michaelson had been working together for the past two years. They got along fairly well, and Jimmy knew he could trust her. That gave him a comforting feeling.

“Adelaide gave us a scare last night,” Jimmy told his partner. “She stopped breathing. Diane screamed at her and shook her. My poor wife was in tears. I gave her the Heimlich and that was all it took to get her back. We called for an ambulance. The EMTs checked her over and said she was fine. Diane took her to the doctor’s this morning after dropping Leo off at school. I saw Addy before I left the house this morning. I sure hope she is OK.” Jimmy was frightened talking about his 5-year old daughter.

The girl suffered from Cerebral Palsy and was confined to a wheel chair. The doctor cautioned that her intellectual capacity may never advance from where it is right now. She may act like a five-year-old for the rest of her life. She could not walk, and her head and arms made constant erratic movements. To her daddy, she had the most beautiful smile and would talk his head off if he let her.

The radio crackled to life, “Any units in the Brookline area, please check on the welfare of a Miss Meredith Feinberg, 41 Waverly.”

Jimmy picked up the handset, “Fox 6 is in the area. We’ll check it out.” Jimmy made a left on Thayer and headed for the address. “Probably some old lady that has not been outside in over a week. The neighbors get worried and call the cops.”

@Liv

"Not a bad haul, sis," Gabe concluded, and Allison gave him a thumbs up. She followed his gaze, looking over the woman as Allison was taken back to that Friday night.

Her father had been drinking as usual, sitting in front of the TV on his black leather recliner. He was very peculiar about who sat there, for some reason. The empty bottles were littered by his feet, but she didn't bother counting; there was no point. Allison left the living room right after he demanded she get him some food. She ignored him, and he berated her. "Your bitch of a mother would have gotten me at least a sandwich by now," he added. Allison lost it.

She headed to the basement to go get another 12 pack. She was calm and controlled, even though she already knew what she was going to do. Allison emerged from the basement with the beer, taking it to the kitchen first. She grabbed a napkin to act as a sleeve, and used the bottom of her shirt to twist loose the cap. It was then she could just barely make out her father incoherently rambling on. She took the bottle of Bud Light over to him, and he snatched it from her hands without even bothering to peel his eyes from the TV. But that was fine.

Throughout the night, Allison would go on to repeat the same step whenever he was running low. It kept him quiet and pleasant, and in the meantime, she would switch between reading her book and playing a game on her phone to keep occupied. This went on for a while, until eventually, Daniel passed out, dropping the bottle he had in hand onto the floor. She started picking up the larger pieces of broken glass and noticed her father wasn't snoring like usual. In fact, he looked quite still. She used her free hand to check the man's pulse, but she couldn't find any. Allison smiled slightly, and continued picking up the mess as if she didn't have a care in the world, because in that moment, she didn't. She would figure out what to do the next morning, after having a good night's rest.

---

"Hey, so I need to tell you something...it's about dad."

The siblings were already in the vehicle, heading home. They had done a final walkthrough to make sure nothing that would incriminate them was left behind. The empty pizza box was in the trunk, and the items they had taken along with the cash was hidden in the center console. "He did drink himself to death, but..." Allison paused, finding it hard to admit to her brother what she had done. She decided to pull over to the side of the road. They were still in a residential neighborhood, but not particularly close to where they were earlier. Allison then turned to Gabe before she went on. "I was the one who was handing him the drinks. I killed him, Gabe."

---

"Jesus Christ, Graham. She stopped breathing just like that?" Jenna turned to his partner after he had told her the ordeal with his daughter. Up to that point, Adelaide had gone through so much in her short life, Jenna couldn't help but feel bad for the poor thing. She was a beautiful little girl too, and it broke Jenna's heart knowing how much she suffered. "I'm glad Diane is taking her to the doctor though, despite what the EMTs said. You can never be too careful...

Jenna stopped talking when the dispatcher went on the air, and even though her partner had taken the call, she wouldn't have done the same. But that was simply because Jenna preferred to go were the action was. If she was going to be stuck behind a desk doing reports for who knows how long, she might as well have fun when she's out on the road.

"That's almost always the case, isn't?" she replied to him, suddenly remembering a topic from the previous week. "Hey, so you never got back to me about the Krav Maga training. I know we got caught up with that case but do you think you'll be able to fit it in your schedule?"

"That's almost always the case, isn't?" Detective Michaelson agreed with him about the check on the welfare call. Then she switched gears on him when they turned onto Waverly. "Hey, so you never got back to me about the Krav Maga training. I know we got caught up with that case but do you think you'll be able to fit it in your schedule?"

Jimmy pulled up in front of the house at 41 Waverly. He picked up the radio, “Dispatch, this is Fox six. You can show us out at that address, over.”

“Roger, fox six is 10-7 at 41 Waverly,” the radio voice responded.

“How about this weekend? I have some equipment in my basement. We can work out Saturday or Sunday afternoon. Whatever is best for you,” Jimmy responded to Jenna. Jim Graham had been training in Krav Maga for three years. The school he attended used a belt system. He recently earned an advanced red belt; the belt is split red over black. They also conducted a stripe test once a month. He had just received his third stripe just before the Christmas break and was looking forward to attending boot camp in preparation for his black belt test.

Jimmy walked up to the door and knocked loudly. He stood silently listening at the door. He heard no sound coming from inside the door. He knocked loudly again, yelling, “Boston Police! Please open up!” He peered inside a side window and could see a woman laying on the floor with the light reflecting off what could only be a pool of liquid around her.

“I got a body,” he stated matter of fact to his partner as his hand went for the door knob. He opened it and then drew his sidearm, a .40 caliber Smith & Wesson. He nodded to Jenna and they began a search of the building; stopping to check if the woman on the floor was alive first--no pulse.

“Dispatch, this is Fox six, we have a code 62 at 41 Waverly. Please send a uni, and CSU, over.”

“Fox six, roger on the code 62,” the dispatcher’s voice called out calmly to the Brookline patrol cruiser containing two officers to head to their location. Then returned to Graham and Michaelson, “CSU is on the way.”

“Roger that,” Jim acknowledged as he and his partner continued their search of the house. For all they knew, the killer(s) were still in the house. Couldn’t take any chances. Needed to insure the place was secure before starting an investigation.

---

Gabriel lay in his bed smoking a cigarette. He woke up about twenty minutes ago and couldn’t help thinking about what his sister told him last night. She told him she killed dad. He felt the same way about their father as she did. He even considered doing it when he was an older teen, but resolved to leave the house instead. He joined the Army and learned what it was like to kill someone in combat. He savored the thought. He actually didn’t blame his sister, but was annoyed that she didn’t tell him sooner.

He pulled his feet over the edge of the bed and snuffed out his cigarette in the ash tray. He stood up and staggered to the bathroom to relieve himself. Once he was dressed, he walked to the kitchen looking for his sister and a cup of coffee. He found a cup and poured himself from the carafe, already brewed.

Sitting down at the kitchen table he pulled out another Marlboro and lit it. When he saw her, he spoke, “Alli, I understand what you did." He drew on the cigarette and blew the smoke into the air. "Maybe its your fault? Maybe it is not? Sure, he drank himself to death. He would have drunk those beers with you or without you." Gabe sipped at the coffee, then placed the cup back on the table. "I don’t blame you. I just wish you had fucking called me or something. I didn’t like not knowing dad died until after I came home. You got me!?” Gabe was visibly annoyed yelling the last three words at Allison. He was trying hard to calm himself. He was aware his language might have given him away. He was good about keeping himself calm last night when she told him. He needed to hurt someone. He didn’t want to hurt his sister. He understood what the old man did to her. He could not look her in the eye. He simply smoked his cigarette and drank his coffee.

Eventually, he would ask, “what are we doing tonight?”

"This weekend works for me; Saturday preferably. I don't think I'm the only one who considers Sunday a day for relaxation either alone or with family or friends." Jenna followed James out of the vehicle, closing the front passenger door. "I'm good with 10 AM if that works for you," she concluded as she started making her way to the front of the house. Once they were both in the front porch, James knocked on the door. There was no answer, so he knocked once more, this time announcing their presence.

“Boston Police! Please open up!”

Nothing else but silence. It was then that he decided to take a look inside and noticed a body lying in a pool of blood. James let his partner know right away, and Jenna hen withdrew her firearm, ready to burst in through the front door. But James simply tried the doorknob and they were able to step inside.

Jenna noticed the deceased woman on the floor and gave her partner a few moments to check the body. She'd lost a lot of blood, and it came as no surprise to her that she was a goner.

"I'll take the upstairs," she advised her partner after he made his call over the radio, and she started heading up. The barrel of her gun was aimed directly ahead of her. She got to the upstairs hall and found a bedroom immediately to her right. Or what she thought was a bedroom. When she went in, circling around to properly conduct her sweep as to not be caught off guard, Jenna noticed that she was in a home office. It was the typical setup: desk, chair, computer, some storage furniture, wall decor, and the closet. She quickly opened the closet doors with one hand as the other held her gun in front of her, but the space was mostly empty save for some garment bags and a few boxes off to the corner.

The rest of the upstairs sweep went about the same. Whenever she would finish up a room, Jenna would tell her partner over the radio. She checked the bathroom, the room that followed, which was set up as a secondary bedroom, and the last room on the hall: the master bedroom. The sheets were undone, meaning the poor woman more than likely got up to answer the door and never returned. Jenna also checked the walk-in closet, the personal bathroom, and under the bed. Since any threat of immediate danger was eliminated then, meaning the entire upstairs was cleared, Jenna headed downstairs to rejoin her partner.

---

It was early in the morning, but Allison hadn't slept much. In fact, she had spent most of the night tossing and turning. It was her brother's reaction, or lack thereof, that had kept her up. A part of her was looking for something more, like being told she was absolutely right in killing their father, or terribly wrong for doing so. Either way, his reaction was underwhelming to say the least. So much, in fact, that it left her dissatisfied...even after the goods they got away with the previous night.

Just as the sun had come up, Allison went to the living room to watch some TV. She kept the volume low as to not awake her brother, but she found herself to be drifting off on the couch so she went back to bed 20 minutes later. She stared at the wall for a while before sleep claimed her.

When she opened her eyes again, Allison quickly sat up in bed. She was having a nightmare but thankfully, the sun was shining bright enough to wake her before the worse of it came. She went out without bothering to get dressed, but she had on her pajama pants and white t-shirt, and she wasn't trying to impress anybody. Allison followed the same routine as every other morning; get the coffee brewing, grab the newspaper from the front porch, and draw the curtains to let some natural light in. She was still a bit groggy and irritable, but breakfast would soon fix that.

She went back to her room to finally make her bed and get dressed. It was then she heard Gabe shuffling around, and she figured he was heading towards the kitchen. She put on some jeans and a long-sleeve blue shirt before she went to the restroom to wash her face.

A while later, Allison went out to join her brother. He wasn't all that talkative the previous night, so it was a start. Allison was listening to what he was saying, up to the point where he raised his voice at her. It took her by surprise, and she simply stood there, stunned, until she found the words.

"I did it for your own fucking good, little brother," she added with a bit of a condescending tone, not bothering to acknowledge his question. It irked her when he acted out of line, and maybe she shouldn't react so poorly, but she couldn't help it.

Allison didn't say anything further though, she simply turned her back to him so she could pour herself some coffee. Gabe eventually addressed her again, after she joined him at the table with neither of them saying anything up that point.

“What are we doing tonight?”

"I think we should lay low for now, maybe some theft here and there. I don't want us drawing too much attention to ourselves. If we make a mistake somewhere, they could pin all of it on us, and then we're royally fucked."

Allison got up again to make herself some toast. She usually wasn't hungry this early in the morning, but for some reason her stomach was growling. She grabbed the last two slices and put them in the toaster. If Gabe didn't want one of them, then she would eat them both.

Gabriel left the house after their discussion regarding Allison’s part in their father’s death. He walked around south Boston for several hours thinking about it. Eventually, he came to the conclusion that she did the right thing. He was no longer upset with his sister. He did wish she had told him while he was away but then no one wrote him letters or sent him emails. He couldn’t blame her for the faux pas. He resolved to forgive her and move on. After all, she was his support system. He needed her.

Gabe decided to buy lunch for him and Allison. He stopped into a Subway shop to buy a pair of grinders. He knew what she liked and bought her favorite sandwich and then he got one for himself. He bought two bags of chips and two tonics. For those not from the Boston area, a tonic would be referred to as a soda, a pop or a coke depending on where a person was from. He paid for the meal out of the money they took the night before and walked back to the house. Technically, they lived in an apartment in a three-story building. Their apartment was half of the third floor of what is called a Dorchester Triple decker.

As he crossed E street, he noticed a Boston Police Cruiser. He didn’t know if they knew who he was, if they were looking for him or what. Gabe attempted to hide his face from the Police. He was sure no one knew who he was, and no one was looking for him. But he didn’t want to be known, especially by BPD. Within a few blocks, he made it back to the house. He climbed the stairs to the third floor and walked in, it just after noon. He looked for his sister, calling out, “Allison, I brought lunch!”

He plopped the sub down on the kitchen table alongside the bag of chips and the tonic. Gabe took a seat and pulled the Italian sub out. He began chewing his food and sipping his Coca-Cola before his sister entered the room.

After she sat down, he thought about apologizing. It was the right thing to do, but he felt weird about it. It was not something his father ever told him to do. No one in his life ever taught him how to have what other people call polite manners. It just wasn’t their way. He assumed his sister would know he felt sorry about what he said to her that morning by his gesture. He felt she would realize buying lunch was his way of apologizing for yelling at her this morning.

“Maybe we could go hang out at the club tonight?” Gabriel offered.

---

The following Saturday, Jimmy woke up and ate breakfast with the family. He didn’t have to work, but he still woke up at six in the morning. By family, he really fed the baby, Charlene while Leo ate his cereal and drank a glass of milk. Jim also had a bowl of cereal while Charlene sat in her high chair, talking to her dad and her brother. Leo talked back to her. He played with his baby sister as their dad ate his meal. The infant babbled primarily but could say about twelve words including; mommy, daddy, Weo, Addy and no! No, was indeed her favorite word even when she meant yes.

“Leo are you going to karate this morning?” Jim asked his son.

“yup,” the 8-year old responded curtly while playing with his sister.

“I’ll put Charlie in with mom. Get your Gi on. We’ll leave at 7:35.

“k’ dad,” Leo gave his father a brief salute with his right hand. He cleared his own bowl and glass from the kitchen table and marched up to his room to get dressed for karate. Jim cleared his dishes and Charlene’s plate and baby spoon. He wiped her off and cleaned off the tray to her high chair. He then hefted her up into the air, talked to her and carried her upstairs to his room. The doting dad placed the baby in her mother’s arms who roused, smiled and gave her little daughter a kiss on the head.

“I’m going to check on Addy,” Jim told Diane.

“OK,” she said sleepily.

Jim walked down the hall to his oldest daughter’s room. Addy had beautiful blonde hair that was all matted and knotted. It would take Diane the better part of a half hour to get her hair straightened out. “Morning princess!” Jim stated to his daughter with glee. The girl lay in her bed with removable side rails. “How are you feeling?”

“Good, daddy!” She giggled at her father.

“Would you like me to bring you downstairs or do you want to go lay with mommy?”

“Mommy!” Adelaide exclaimed cheerfully to Jim.

“Ok sweetums, I’ll carry you down to lay with mommy and Charlene.”

Adelaide threw out her pouty lip. “No Charlie!”

Jim worked at changing his five-year-old daughter’s clothing. “Charlie is your baby sister, Addy. I’m afraid she will be your sister for the rest of your life. You better get used to her. I expect you to take care of her.”

“OK daddy. Can Charlie be my baby?” Adelaide giggled. She liked the idea of having a baby of her own. She did have Miss Tally, her American Girl Doll, but it wasn’t the same as a real baby.

“Ok, Charlie can be your baby. Talk to mommy about it.”

Later that morning, Jimmy and Leo went to the martial arts school in Waltham. Jimmy’s class was from 8-9. The class worked on gun defense techniques. After class, Mr. Arujo, the head instructor called a handful of students over to him. Jim received a letter stating that he was invited to the school’s boot camp program, intended to prepare the student for the Black Belt tests. It was a 16-week program of intense training 2-3 hours every Friday night starting at 7PM. After the first 6 weeks, they would take the first of three black belt tests. Once the third test was complete, the school held a graduation a week later at a venue to be determined. Leo was working on his green belt and still had a few more years before he would test for black belt.

They got home around 10:30. Leo ran off to his room. Jim took a shower and changed into more work out clothes, planning to work with Jenna after lunch. He figured going over gun and knife defense would be perfect given their line of work. Although knives are used more frequently in the commission of crimes than guns, guns seem to grab the headlines more frequently. Knives are just way more accessible, especially in Massachusetts where some of the strictest gun laws in the country exist.

She knew he was worked up; the way he left home without so much as a quick "see you later". But that had been his m.o. for as long as she could remember. And Allison was fine with it as it really didn't bother her any, she just wished he would at least let her know where he was heading. She would have a little more peace of mind as she went on with her day.

With a sigh, Allison got up and started to pick up after herself and her brother. She gathered the few dishes that had been used and placed them on the sink, carefully rinsing them out before scrubbing them with hot water and soap. For some reason, she enjoyed the simplicity of doing the dishes. She usually hummed to herself if she didn't have her headphones in, as was the case now. Allison went back and forth a few times between Adele and Muse. Nothing particularly special about the female singer and the band, it's just what she was in the mood for.

Eventually, Allison finished doing the dishes and moved on to cleaning up throughout the rest of their home. Nothing too complicated, just simple things like dusting, cleaning the bathroom as well as the kitchen, folding most of the laundry from the pile, etc. She took her time doing the chores; in fact, she was so caught up in her own little world that she was startled when Gabe had called out to her. He'd apparently bought lunch, and was calling her over to eat. But she didn't go down right away. Instead, she went over to the bathroom to wash her hands before going down the kitchen to meet him. When she got there, she noticed Gabe was already eating, so she sat down across from him without talking until he eventually pitched an idea.

"The club? Yeah, I suppose we can do that."

Allison looked at him momentarily before turning her attention to the sandwich in front of her, smiling a little when she realized he'd gotten her her favorite. So he was trying to get on her good side after all. "You wanna pregame again? We can get a couple of bottles," Allison suggested between bites before washing down the food with her drink. "Or we still have those brownies, although we wouldn't be going anywhere after we finish them, not the way it hit us the other day. Jesus Christ...that was one hell of an existential crisis I had..."

---

Jenna opened her eyes only to find herself staring at the bearded man who was dead asleep a few inches away from her. His chest rose and fell with each breath, and memories from the previous night immediately flooded her mind. She had gone to Drink to meet up with her friend, Denise, who actually ended up canceling at the last minute due to a flat tire. Instead of heading back home, Jenna stayed and enjoyed some cocktails. And that's where she met Tony, the 6'1, dark-brown hair and blue-eyed wonder who smooth-talked her to the point where after 3 or 4 drinks, she couldn't help but ask whether he would go home with her.

And now, the morning after, he was lying beside her in bed. Jenna moved ever so delicately away from him, sitting up right on the edge. She had on a tank top and shorts; not necessarily to keep warm, but it's what she was used to. She was just about to head to the bathroom when Tony's hand wrapped around her wrist and tugged hard enough to make her fall back on the bed. Jenna nearly jumped out of her skin, but Tony wrapped his arms around her so she wouldn't have the chance to complain even if she wanted to.

"Good morning...sleep well?" his voice was deep and groggy from the drinking he'd indulged in the night prior.

"As well as you did," she went on looking at him.

Tony chuckled, pulling her even closer to him. "That much is true, I am a heavy sleeper when I drink. Although I did get up in the middle of the night only to find you passed out as if you were in a coma. It was quite--"

"Tony! I can't believe you did that!"

"What, wake up at 4 in the morning?" he smirked.

"You know what I mean..."

Before either of them could get another word out, Tony's stomach complained with hunger. The pair would eventually get up, make breakfast together, and enjoy each other's company for about another hour or so before they parted ways with the promise of seeing each other again on a date.

Once she was alone, Jenna went on with what little was left of her morning. She ran some quick errands, picked up a bit around the apartment, and eventually snacked some more before heading to the gym down at the station. The facility was equipped with top of the line equipment, it had just about every exercise machine imaginable. But they wouldn't be using any of those machines that day. Instead, Jenna headed to the mats, placing her stuff against the wall as she made herself comfortable to stretch a little. She had on black leggings and a white t-shirt. Jenna decided to keep her workout clothes simple since she didn't know what to expect, yet it was only a matter of time before her partner would show up to kill her curiosity.

Jim parked in the department’s parking garage and entered the building. He loved the fantastic gym at the police department. There was a weight room for those who wanted an anaerobic workout and another room the officer’s used for hand to hand combat or self defense training. That was exactly what he and Jenna would work on today.

Jenna entered the gym sooner than he. “I hope you are ready for a workout,” Jim said with a smile. He put his large black “sparring bag” down on the floor near her bag. The sparring bag contained shin guards, rib guard, head protection, MMA gloves, two training knives, a training stick, a training handgun, a first aid kit, a bottle of water, mouth guard, his current belt (black/red), and two pair of boxing gloves. He pulled out a black and white pair of gloves that appeared to be broken in and a pair of yellow colored “Venom” gloves. The yellow gloves were still in a plastic wrapping.



Jim handed the brand new Venom gloves to Jenna, “here. Take these. They are yours now.” Jim was dressed in a black T-shirt that had the logo for America’s Best Defense imprinted on it and pair of black boxing shorts with a Krav Maga Alliance or KMA logo imprinted on them. It had a two-inch-wide camouflage pattern up the seam of both legs.

Jim reached for a kick shield; there were several hanging on a wall. “We are going to warm up with some punches. When you punch, you want to make a fist like this.” He demonstrated in the traditional manner, dropping the kick shield to free up his hands. “Make sure your thumb is against the middle sections of your fingers. You don’t want it on top or tucked in between your fingers and your hand. Both good ways to break a few bones. When you make contact, only the facing two digits of your first two fingers should make contact. Avoid contact with your two smaller fingers as they could break easily. Next, your stance is important. Stand with your feet shoulder width apart and take a half step back with your right foot or the distance of the foot itself so that your right toe is lined up with the heel of your left foot, but shoulder width apart. When you punch, lean slightly forward. If you are in a fight, you don’t want to be standing upright as your attacker could quickly put you on your heels. Always lean into a fight. You can always lean back if you have to in order to dodge or slip a punch.”

“I am going to teach you the four basic punch combinations. They are each numbered one through four. The first punch you need to know, is the jab. Since you are right handed, your jab is thrown with your left hand, or lead hand. Rotate your left shoulder slightly forward as you punch. Rotate your upper torso forward as you punch.” Jim demonstrated a few jabs in the air. “The jab is combination number one. Combo two is a jab – cross. The cross is thrown by your rear hand or right hand. When you throw the jab, you rotate your body forward on the left side. This naturally sets up the right cross by rotating that hand and arm rearward away from your attacker. Pull your left glove back to your face as you throw your right glove while rotating your body with the right side of your torso moving forward. Again, rotate the right shoulder slightly forward as you make impact.” Jim demonstrated the right cross by rotating his body forward into the air. When he was complete, he returned both fists to his face. “It is important to keep your hands up by your face when you are in a fight. You need to be able to protect your face. Most fighters will punch the head rather than other parts of the body.” Then he demonstrated combo two by throwing a jab and a cross successively. “Combo two is what is often referred to as the one – two punch.” Jim exhaled a while making a shh or hissing sound when he threw a punch. It helps to control your breathing during training as well as during a fight. Many people have a tendency to hold their breath during both and that just makes the work unnecessarily tiring. Most people are challenged to keep their hands up by their face when they spar, fight or train. It requires strong deltoids and conditioning which is acquired over months or years of training.

“Ok, we have two more punch combinations to get through. Combo three is the same as combo two, with the addition of the left hook. When you throw the left hook, you rotate your shoulder back as your arm hooks outward. Then, when you rotate your body forward, keep your fist sideways with your forearm perpendicular to the floor. Throw the punch and quickly bring the left hand back to your face. The movement of your left arm should give the appearance of a witch stirring a cauldron.” Jim made a circular motion with his left hand as he rotated his torso and left shoulder repeatedly making the proper motion for a hook. “Combo three should look like this,” he demonstrated the three-punch combination in the air throwing the left jab, the right cross and the left hook. “The final combination we will cover is combo four. It is the same as combo three with the addition of another right cross. Combo three was jab – cross – hook while combo four is jab – cross – hook – cross.”

Jim turned to pick up the kick shield, “put on the gloves and we’ll try it out.” Jenna slipped on her brand-new pair of Venom boxing gloves. They had that new leather smell to them. The pair went through several punch combinations. Jim watched the clock and stopped her after a minute. It is exhausting, punching a pad correctly, keeping your hands up by your face for one minute straight. “You’re doing fantastic! I remember my first time doing this, I threw six punches and was bent over breathing heavy. Don’t feel bad if you can’t keep punching throughout the entire minute. Hopefully we will extend the time you are punching a bit longer. In my Krav class, we normally do three-minute rounds. There is a drill we perform occasionally called the cauldron. The cauldron is three three-minute rounds. In the first round, you throw one of each combination. Then you take a 30-second break. In the second round, you throw two of every combination and in the third round, you throw three of each combination. It is an excellent work out.”

After one round on the kick shield, Jim put the shield away and picked up a pair of Muay Thai pads, These are smaller pads that fit over each hand. They are rectangular in shape; smaller than the kick shield, but still large enough to hit individually with a glove. Jim had Jenna punch the pads calling out numbered combinations from one to four repeatedly for three one-minute rounds.

“One!” Jim called out and Jenna’s arm uncoiled like a snake ready to strike.

“Three!” Jim called out and Jenna’s hands reacted appropriately. Jim held his left hand up to meet Jenna’s left jab. Then he held up the right pad to meet Jenna’s cross. He turned the left hand so his arm was perpendicular to his body and parallel to the floor. It was in position to meet Jenna’s left hook.

After three one-minute rounds, he put to the pads away. “Take the gloves off.” As Jenna took her gloves off, Jim retrieved a hard-molded black rubber hand gun with red paint where the muzzle would be. Upon close inspection, the pistol resembled the .40 caliber semi-automatic handgun the Boston Police Department issued to all its officers.

“Your arms should feel warmed up now. I hope that wasn’t too bad for you.” He stepped onto the mat with her holding onto the rubber handgun. “Let’s try some gun defense now. The one thing I want you to always be aware of during any of this training is where your own sidearm is located. You need to protect it; keeping it away from your attacker. You never want to give your attacker an opportunity to take it from you; even if you have it locked into the holster.”

Jim handed the pistol to Jenna. “Hold it up to my chest with your arm out as though you wanted to steal something from me. TV tells us that when you are held up at gun point, you should raise your hands. Instead of raising them up over your head, bring them up to chest height instead. This will put your hands at a shorter distance to the firearm than leaving them by your side or above your head. You can even tell your attacker, they can have anything they want or please don’t shoot or I have children. It doesn’t matter if you do or not. If they have any sense of humanity, they may not shoot a mother.”

“Your first move is to blade your body by pulling your right shoulder back and rotating your left shoulder forward. While you are blading your body, your left hand will come straight up. It is best if you slowly raise your hands about mid chest; as though you were going to raise them over your head. Form a V with the thumb and forefinger of your left hand. This V will go under the receiver or barrel of the pistol in front of the trigger guard. Wrap your hand around the pistol and twist it into the attacker as you straighten your arm out. You should in a sense punch your attacker in the stomach with the pistol in your left hand. As you do this, simultaneously burst forward, with our left or lead foot landing just outside your attacker’s right foot and punch the attacker in the face with your right hand. After the punch pull your right hand back and then make a similar motion as though throwing an uppercut and grab behind the slide or hammer of the pistol with your right hand. The gun is now yours, just pull it up and away towards yourself, backing away. You may want to pull the slide to the rear, in order to cock the weapon and hold it on your attacker. Or since you carry a sidearm you know works fine, you could ditch the attacker’s gun; place it in your pocket and retrieve your own. You never know what some of these brain children do to their firearms. I remember one time, this guy had a forty-caliber hand gun, but he had 9mm bullets. So, he put duct tape around each bullet so they would fit in the magazine and the chamber. He was a dumbass. All that did was cause the weapon to jam when he tried to shoot it. You have no idea of the intelligence of the lame ass holding the pistol. Use your own over one you took from some Joe on the streets.”

Jenna and Jim went over gun from the front defense several times before they both felt comfortable with it. “Is there something specific you would like me to cover?” Jim asked Jenna. “We could do more punching combinations or get into kicking as well, if you would like?”

The training she was taking part in was leaving Jenna somewhat short of breath, that which was apparent whenever she was given a quick break. The punching exercises wasn't something she was used to; she was more of a runner and rarely dwelled outside of that routine, but that ended the moment she stepped in the gym.

Jenna reminded herself to focus on her breathing as James had advised. He didn't need to tell her that Krav Maga was a demanding system for her to figure out that part. It was not due to the fighting style alone, but rather, the combination of physical training that was included as well. And even though she was breaking a sweat, Jenna was glad she had to put that much effort into the lesson. Out in the streets, the thugs wouldn't care how exhausted she was as they would do just about anything to get their way. She kept that in mind as she went on with James' help.

Some time later, the two finally started going over defensive techniques. Jenna paid attention as James instructed her how to disarm someone with a gun, and as he went over the various steps, she imaged the technique to be somewhat similar if someone were to come up to her with a knife. But she obviously wouldn't grip the blade, so maybe all she had to do was go for their hand, or possibly their wrist. Either way, she figured she should learn sooner rather than later. Jenna went on with the current lesson until she felt comfortable enough to go through the steps on pure instinct. At first, she watched as James disarmed her, but then it was her turn when he handed her the fake gun. She worked slower at first to make sure she was doing everything correctly, but eventually, with enough practice, she appeared to be as good as James and a while later they both agreed that they didn't need to continue practicing the same technique.

"Actually," she went on to answer his question, "can you teach me how you stop someone threatening you with a knife? That's another weapon they like to use out there."

"can you teach me how you stop someone threatening you with a knife? That's another weapon they like to use out there."

“Sure thing,” James responded and placed the training gun back in his sparring bag. He then pulled out two training knives. Both had his initials written on them in white marker. “We only need one. I just happen to have two; a story for another day,” James declared with a smile.

“I wanted to tell you, I received a report from the forensics lab. They scoured the house. They found finger prints for seven people other than the deceased in the house. Five of them are family members; her mother, father and two siblings. The fifth was a brother-in-law. The last two are unknowns and could possibly be our perpetrators. We should speak to the family members too just to eliminate them as suspects. They also used luminol around where the body was found. They found a partial shoe impression. They can’t determine shoe size, but they know the person who stepped in the blood wore Adidas Superstar shoe.”

“OK, back to the knife. One thing to remember in Krav Maga is you never back up. You always drive forward into your attacker. You want to keep him or her off balance, on their heels. If you can cause them to forget math for a few moments you can get them into an advantageous position.”

“Before we go over actual knife defense, you need to know how to burst.” James stood with his feet roughly shoulder width apart facing a mirror. The mirror would help him to correct his movements if he did something wrong. He stood in front of the mirror. While leaning forward, he rapidly burst forward, leading with his body, not with his feet. His feet move forward simply to prevent himself from falling over. “When you burst, you want your weight to go into your opponent. You are not catching your fall with your body, but with the bad guy’s body. He prevents you from falling and you knock him off balance at the same time. Try bursting a few times to get the feel for it.”



After the pair had practiced bursting several times and Jenna felt comfortable with it, James introduced the training knife. It was all black with a ten inch blade made of a malleable rubber/plastic material. “In Krav we go over three different knife defense techniques in the under belt curriculum. Overhead knife, underarm knife and straight stab. Overhead knife can come from any angle with a downward motion while underarm can come from any angle from below. Straight stab assumes your attacker is thrusting the blade at chest height toward you. We will cover overhead attacks.”

James tucked the blade into his waist. “Stand facing the mirror with your feet shoulder width apart. Thrust your left arm into the air with a 90-degree bend in your elbow. Position one is over head and slightly forward. You want to burst forward as you use this block. You want your hand open flat as you execute this block.” James demonstrated the movement a few times. “you can angle the defense to the left at a 45-degree angle and to the side. These are positions two and three. Position four is the same as position three but with your arm bent downward instead of up. Position five is 45-degree downward angle and position six is the downward opposite of position one. When you use positions five and six, you essentially want to hollow out your body by arching your back, making it more difficult for a knife to strike your flesh and cause any critical damage.”

“If you feel comfortable with these blocks, I’ll show you the technique for dealing with someone attacking you with a knife.” James handed Jenna the knife and told her to use a downward overhead motion at him. He would take it slow. As her hand came downward towards James’ head, he burst forward while executing 360 degree defense position one, immediately overhead. “You want wrist to wrist contact. Think of this block as an attack. With your hand bladed, rather than balled up in a fist, it exposes the radial bone in your forearm. Having the bone strike your opponent rather than muscle tissue causes an appreciable amount of pain. I’ve suffered several bruises from this contact. Simultaneously while blocking the knife hand, use your right hand to punch your attacker in the face. It should be one movement with the block and the right cross. Once the punch is thrown, wrap your left arm around your attackers right arm pinning the arm into your side so he cannot use it. You are fighting the person, not the knife. Do not try to take the knife yet. You want to convince your attacker they are making a bad decision. With their right arm wrapped up in your left and your right hand grabbing the material of their right shoulder, give them a firm and decisive groin kick with your right leg. Hit with such intensity it would send their testicles into their throat. This person is trying to kill you. You are changing their mind. Once the groin kick has been delivered, then execute a few Knee strikes to the body and maybe one or two the face. Make all your strikes decisive and explosive. We can cover the groin strike and the knee strike on the kick shield if you like. Your goal is to strike your attacker so hard and with such intensity repeatedly until they feel like they have just given up. Then you can try to take the knife out of their hand.”



James and Jenna repeated the knife defense technique several times until she felt comfortable with it. Then they repeated it several more times to insure it was firmly implanted in her brain. “The big difference between a knife and a gun, is this. The gun only works in one direction. By altering the direction of fire and controlling the gun, you have essentially taken it out of the equation. The knife will work in either direction but can only be used in close contact. The gun is a ranged weapon. The gun requires bullets. If the user runs out of bullets, it then becomes simply a piece of steel. The knife never runs out of ammo.”

“I would be more than happy to go over other items with you, if you like. Maybe you can come check out a class at the school in Waltham with me sometime. You can watch from the bleachers. I know they give introductory classes too.”

"Oh great, that was quick."

Jenna thought about the possibilities regarding the remaining fingerprints. One of the first things she did when her and her partner were assigned the case the day prior was look over the statistics for the neighborhood. She was somewhat surprised to find out not much was going on there. A few domestics, mostly ending in arrests, and a stabbing three blocks down, but it was domestic in nature as well. But the suspects knew the victim was alone, otherwise why would they break into her home? A husband or boyfriend could have been right in the other room for all they knew, and that was a risk no one in their right mind would take. That meant that they had watched her prior to killing her, at least enough times to learn her routine, find out whether she lived alone, etc. James mentioned interviewing the family, but Jenna also wanted to go around and ask the immediate neighbors a few questions. Maybe they noticed a vehicle that was out of place parked across the street. If the neighbors could give out a good description, preferably make, model, and color, then Jenna could pull the footage from the traffic cams and cross reference any vehicles matching the description driving into that neighborhood. She also wanted to ask the victim's family if she had any ex-boyfriends still living in the city who may have had any reason to pull off such a stunt. Unlike the commonly held belief that everyone should be wary of strangers, it was one's friends and family--the people they were the closest to--that could carry out some of the most vicious attacks.

But Jenna had to remind herself she wasn't in the office anymore. She would often let her thoughts carry her away from her company whenever she was working out how to best proceed from that point on. Not that it was a big deal, but it certainly was rude, especially if the other party noticed she wasn't all there.

"The shoe certainly gives us another good angle, we'll see if it gets us anywhere," she concluded before James got into the basics of knife defense. He first covered bursting, something that she wouldn't have thought about but was obviously a helpful tactic in order to stun an attacker long enough to be able to go on the offensive. Jenna practiced the move a few times alongside James. At first, she found it a bit awkward and unnatural, but continuously executing the same move eventually led her to effortlessly go through the motions, and that was when they decided to move on to work with the knife. In the past, Jenna had taken some basic self-defense course. It was comprised of a few classes Denise wanted to check out and Jenna had been invited, so of course she would tag along. The instructor taught the students to cross their arms out in front of their heads for protection. There was a chance of getting cut, but at least the face remained protected. The move was intended to be done simultaneously with a kick to the groin, but it was pointed out that realistically, it wouldn't be so easy to pull off and therefore one could execute the kick after the block. But unlike that class, Krav Maga went after the aggressor, and Jenna preferred that method. She would never run from a fight if she could help it.

After they were done with the lesson, James had asked her whether she wanted to learn anything else. Jenna was curious, no doubt, but she wasn't about to commit a majority of the day in the gym, and she wouldn't make James stay either.

"This was great for a first lesson, but I think we should pack it up. Where's the school at though? I would love to see what goes on in there before I commit myself to becoming a student."