The Circle of Eight by J Robert Kennedy Page A

Stucco
and his family, the victim, the cop’s family and now Dawson’s sister and niece’s
kidnapping. But through it all, he failed to see anything he could possibly
help them with, and said so.
    Niner
opened a file folder he was carrying, and placed it on Acton’s desk. His
eyebrows immediately shot up.
    “Where
did you find this?” he asked, his heart pumping a little harder.
    “BD said
he first saw it on a table in Lacroix’s room. Lacroix got really pissed when BD
looked at the papers,” replied Niner.
    “And
this one,” said Jimmy, pointing at the photograph, “was nailed to a telephone
pole outside of Stucco’s house.”
    “Clearly
he was sending a message,” commented Niner. “I’m willing to bet that symbol is
at the other two murder sites, they just didn’t know to look for it.”
    “Sounds probable,”
agreed Acton, his mind racing.
    “So,
Doc, what are we looking at?”
    Acton
crossed the floor to the door and locked it, pulling down the blind. He
returned to the two soldiers and lowered his voice.
    “ If this is genuine, and I do mean if , you may be dealing with one of the most
dangerous groups to have ever graced the face of this Earth.”
     
     

 
     
    Pentecostals of Richmond Church, Pickens Road, Richmond, Virginia
     
    Something forced Sylvia to wake. She heard it again, a loud bang,
screams, her daughter crying. Her eyes shot open and she found herself being
dragged by the legs, Kurt and another man pulling her between two rows of pews,
Jenny trailing behind her, shielded by an elderly lady, her hair so thin and
grey it was almost a remembrance of what was, rather than a leftover. As she
was pulled between the thick benches she saw the door swing open and the few
that remained scattering for their lives as the driver limped in.
    The
pastor stepped forward, his hands held out wide to show he was no threat, but
his voice stern nevertheless.
    “This is
a house of the Lord,” he said. “How dare you fire a weapon here!”
    A shot
rang out and she heard a gasp, her view blocked, now all that was visible were
feet. Then the body of the pastor collapsed onto the floor, his head twisted
toward her, the look of horror on his face heartbreaking.
    Why
is this happening?
    Several
people cried out and she saw feet, fleeing moments before, rushing toward their
fallen leader, cries and wails echoing through the large building. The hands
pulling her legs let go and she looked to see Kurt stand, his teeth clenched,
jaw tight as he stepped over her and put himself squarely between her and her
abductor.
    She watched
the man’s feet slowly make their way down the aisle, then looking over her
shoulder from the floor, she could see him standing in front of Kurt, his
weapon raised, the proud veteran not budging.
    “Out of
my way old man, or you die.”
    “If you
want them, you have to go through me.”
    “Me
too,” said the other who was dragging her moments before. He stepped around
her, standing shoulder to shoulder with Kurt.
    “And
me,” said another, his footsteps echoing up the next aisle.
    “How
touching. Your war is long over. Go home and soak your tired bones in a
hot bath, otherwise those bones are going six feet under.”
    Kurt
took a small step forward.
    “Sonny,
we fought to protect the innocent and the weak. Our buddies died for a country
that was better than those we fought. If I walk away today, I betray not only
my country, but those men who died by my side, and my God who gave me the
strength to get through that hell. There’s no way I’m going to let you harm
this woman or her child.”
    She
heard a hammer cock, and she cried out.
    “No,
wait!” She grabbed Kurt’s pant leg, pulling at it. “No, I won’t have anyone die
because of me.” She tried to look at her abductor, to make eye contact with
him. “Just let them take my daughter. Whatever this is about, it can’t involve her.
She’s just a kid!”
    She felt
Jenny squeeze on her leg, but remain silent as she lay