Stella's Revenge

Freddie being a no-nonsense nerd stated directly, "fifteen minutes for the photos and another hour to work out a likely whereabouts at that time."

"Freddie, they know I'm coming for them." She told him.

"That will make it easier for us, but fucking harder for you."

Freddie looked around the kitchen taking it all in. "What's going on Stell, this isn't a normal op, are we in the clear here?"

Stella kissed his cheek, then grabbed his balls, not squeezing, well too hard, but enough to make his eyes water.

"I have 2 days, to get this done, don't fuck around asking dumb questions." She released his gonads, smiled and then said to him. "There will be no comebacks, that's from the lord and master himself. The matron might give you a hard time if you stuff it up, so don't stuff it up."

Stella was never too sure who made these guys jump more, the General or the matron? Thinking about it briefly, it was definitely the matron.

Stella stepped outside as the rest of the team, armed with laptops, printers, and other new undisclosed technology, pushed past her. She got out of their way and waited.

She took out her phone checking the time. She set her stop clock to start at 5 pm allowing an hour to Lowood, in a casual mode that would give her 45 minutes to set up the hit. This will be a fly by the seat of your pants job she told herself. But a small-town family, shouldn't be too hard she thought. She would take Mags straight back to her rig, 700 km away, and leave at 7.15 pm. Arrive at the rig before 1.30 am, drive over to Darwin then down to Broome and a new lift on the West Coast.

She picked up her satellite phone and pressed the same four digits that drew her back into this sordid world. The matron answered immediately.

This time Stella didn't need to identify herself. She started to explain the basics.

"At 6.45 pm in Lowood, 3 hits, local identities, Fitzgibbons family. I will have the girl. We will drive straight to Cunnamulla arriving at 1.15 am. We will drive through to Darwin and on to Broome, safe house 14 11-32/A and start anew."

There was silence for a few moments then the matron spoke. "You will leave the rig where it is, we will get it to Broome. A land cruiser will be waiting for you in Cunnamulla, you will leave the motorcycle with the Mobil dealer. He is expecting you. You will drive straight through to Broome, that way your partner can share the driving. Fuel stops only. Take everything from the 'cubby hole', just use local small notes, no credit cards, for another twelve months. Good Luck Stella, we have missed you. Oh yes, before you go, the General sends his regards and will be in touch. Welcome back, Major."

She hung up. And screamed "FUCKING HELL" at the top of her lungs.

Freddie came out and handed her three photos. She looked at them, studied them and then handed them back, Freddie took out a pocket lighter and burnt them, scattering the burnt ashes.

He put his hand on her shoulder, "once you're in Stell, you are in for life." He told her. "Good to have you home, it's been a bit boring while you've been gone."

She walked down to the workshop and looked around one last time, kicking the van as she walked past it. Unlocked her cubby hole and started to pack.

She put the money in a waterproof sack and rolled it up placing it in a saddle bag, she took an old guitar case off of the wall, opened it took out the faux guitar and put in her personal 375 Cheytac CRB. She filled the base with packing. Closed it and locked it. Not that it would keep any would-be thief out and the 'office' will know it is armed so won't open it. She looked around noting nothing was left over, some old posters you'd expect to find in a man cave, and some old tools she had hardly used. The pit was empty.

She walked back up to the house and stopped at the back door as Freddie appeared. She smiled at him, "you have a knack for knowing when I'm around, don't you Freddie?"

He smiled back, "yeah I just know when you are around Stella. Tell me about this girl that has got you all hot and bothered?"

Stella sat back on the balustrade and looked at him, "she is special, Margarita Fitzgibbon, small, sweet and just a beautiful creature, just turned 20 a month or so back. Ran away from her father and brothers who were beating up on her, I found her in the paddock down by the creek, well Bluey did and the dog adopted her, she stayed the night and three years on here were are."

"You know, I had no idea you were, you know, like into girls," he said cautiously.

"Neither did I until Mags arrived, it just happened naturally, she was the same, it just felt right for us both." She said with a wry smile. "Just natural."

She looked at the guitar case and handed it to Freddie, "Can you hand this over to the matron, and tell her that I will need it if I am back in the game. She'll know where to find me. And don't open it, Freddie, it will blow up."

He laughed, "Yep, they always do, with your stuff." he replied.

"They will all be there, we have eyes on the place and good luck girl." He told her as he turned and walked away into the house.

Stella smiled back at him, nodded and started walking back up the hill to her motorbike, it was 10 minutes to 5. She got to the bike and threw the saddlebag over the back seat, fastened it down with the straps.

The clean-up crew had been there for half an hour and were well on the way to 'cleansing' everything. She looked down at her grandmother's home, the place where her mum grew up, and the place where she had found the most happiness. Cursed one more time and kicked the bike into life. The motorbike burst into life on the second kick, she mounted it, took one more look at the old place and then headed off to Lowood.

She rode casually not wanting to draw attention to herself. When she got to the highway, she looked back over her shoulder and saw smoke rising from what she knew was happening. On the highway, she drove just fast enough to get to Lowood at the right time. A short hair woman, in a flowing black overcoat, isn't something you see every day up there. But no one paid her too much attention. When she got to the paddock at the back of the Fitzgibbons place it was dusk, not dark but not light enough for people to see clearly. She checked her time, two minutes early. She pushed the bike into the paddock, leaning it up against a side fence, the tall grass hiding it from the street.

She rang a number on her silent phone and a male voice answered, "All there, 3 males in the front room, watching TV and drinking, they have been for two hours, and a single girl in the back bedroom, hasn't moved since we arrived."

"copy." And she hung up. Took the Ruger MK II out from her back belt, fitted the suppressor and waited, listening. Stella placed the firearm in her right pocket, which had been altered to take the weapon. It was held in place and secured. As it grew gradually darker by the minute, she crept along the fence line towards their house. Reaching their back wooden fence she felt her way along until she found the loose paling, the ones Mags had told her about, she ripped them off as quietly as one could and moved into the backyard. She found the 6-foot-high, corrugated iron fence surrounding the clothesline. It wasn't too hard to find, it surrounded the back door. She peered over quickly, no lights the backdoor was shut, and she knew it would be bolted. She edged her way to the back bedroom which she knew was one of the boy's rooms. She took the fly screen off and tried the window, it wasn't locked, and she pushed the window up and eased herself in. Stealth was everything now.

There was a light under the door from the hallway, which she knew ran down to the lounge and kitchen dining area. She had to do a sharp right-left zig-zag to the bathroom, which would provide cover for her if she needed it.

Mag's bedroom was at the far end of the hallway. There was no way she could make it down the hallway without being seen.

There was nothing else to do. She had to end it now!

She opened the door to the bedroom as she heard laughter from the lounge room, she took a deep breath and strode down towards the lounge, the three of them were all watching TV their backs to her, obviously too much drinking to be worrying about anything, she raised the gun and placed 3 shots into each of their skulls, not a word was spoken, they didn't see or hear a thing. She dialled a number and said. "Three males, front room, the front door is open." And hung up. The same clean-up that took care of her home was on its way.

She went straight down to the bedroom where she knew Mags would be, she opened the door, and found her chained like a dog around her neck. Battered, bloodied, bruised, but alive. She felt for her pulse, faint but it was there, she heard a noise at the front door, she closed the door and waited, she heard footsteps then a message, "7BD09FCA1 clear." Stella replied "copy" and opened the door.

I short man, handed her the shotgun smiled and nodded towards Margarita, "is she OK,"

"She's alive, OK I'm not too sure," Stella replied. "I will need a hand to get her tied to me, we have a short trip to make." Stella searched for some warm clothes, nothing in here would keep her warm on a motorcycle. She went into one of the other bedrooms, the first one was the father and nothing, and she then went into the brother's bedroom and found a windcheater and some tracksuit pants, she quickly pushed Mag's legs into them, rolling up the legs and her arms into the jacket, zipping it up to her chin. They went back to where Stella came in, she climbed out and Mags was handed through the window to her, her arms holding onto her tightly.

Stella kicked open more palings on the back fence and stepped through, her colleague followed. They raced and crouched over to the motorcycle just as the 'team' car pulled up. Stella mounted as her team held Margarita in place. They used a rope around their waists to keep her on the back, then fastened her wrists together in front of Stella to keep her safe, they tapped her on her shoulder and she took off. Not like a bat out of hell, but rather like a couple going from a drive. Stella didn't open it up until she was on the highway heading west to Cunnamulla.

They arrived there just as her rig was leaving. A helicopter was in a paddock on the side of the road, black, with no markings, and sleek looking.

"So this is what all the fuss is about," she said as she looked first at Margarita who was now, wide awake and freezing cold and then to Stella.

The matronly-looking woman put her hand on Stella's arm, "If we only knew it would be an affair of the heart that brought you back, we would have organised one earlier." She said with a smile. "Sorry about your grandmother's place, and good job back there. They will find sufficient proof to explain why three prominent figures were gunned down in their own home. Apparently, they were involved with a local drug gang."

She turned and walked away, then turned around, "Your dog is going to join you in a month's time. We'll be in touch, drive carefully."