For a moment the nausea overwhelms Tabbi. She glances around her hiding place. “Don’t throw up” she says to herself.
As a young girl, growing up around boats at the marina, the motion of the sea felt comforting, but not tonight. Tonight is different. Tonight she is on the job. Tonight is the last time.
“How many times have I lied to myself about the last time?” she thinks. If she were to count, she’d realize this is time number four. “Seriously, this is it” she promises herself.
Tabbi’s attention is called back to the present when she hears one of the armed guards walking along the deck. He stops near the place she stowed herself. The guard looks around for a moment, and then continues his rounds. “No time for distractions” Tabbi reprimands herself. She looks at her watch. They left port thirty-one minutes ago.
Four minutes….
She mentally reviews her plans.
Tabbi believes what the mind can conceive the body can achieve. She spent many years reading and rereading books on the mind body connection. She painstakingly worked to achieve her physical prowess. She credits her unique abilities to her mental acuity and as an extension her physical dexterity. When asked about her talents, her most likely response is “No, I don’t think I’m the best thief around, I know I’m the best thief.” Tonight’s job will put that theory to the test, and Tabbi knows it.
Three minutes….
Another guard walks past. “Right on time” she thinks. She runs the fingertips of her left hand along her thigh where she keeps her tools. The metal is cool to the touch. She feels reassured.
Two minutes….
Tabbi feels the adrenalin coursing through her veins. She concentrates on her breathing. “Stay calm” she thinks. “Control” is the next word she calls to mind. She sharpens her focus and visualizes the next step.
One minute….
She slides her right hand to her hip. She wraps her hand around the grip of her subcompact 9mm. She silently disengages the safety. “Breath” she reminds herself. She listens. Another guard nears. She smells the smoke from his cigarette as he passes her hiding place. “Fitting” she thinks.
Tabbi opens the hatch and steps out form the storage area. The two shots she fires into the back of the guard’s head are muffled by the gun’s silencer into nothing more than whispers. Before he hits the ground she closes the distance between them, grabs hold of him, and tosses his body overboard.
She picks up his cigarette, takes a drag, and flicks it over the side.
So it begins.
Quixotic Quandary 