“Always,” I said.
It was dark, but not full dark, when Gleason showed up. He was dressed in a black outfit similar to mine but he had a hood, like a ski mask, over his head. He was carrying what looked like a medium-sized suitcase. He stopped at the place I figured he was using to watch Jennifer’s house, looked around, then set the case down. He knelt down, opened
midget gay porn it, took out something, and began unfolding it. It was the tripod. When the tripod was set up, he took a big telescope out of the case, put it on top of the tripod, and checked out the house. Then he took two halves of a rifle out of the case and put them together. The rifle had a laser scope on it, which I already knew. He checked the house out through the scope, then leaned the rifle against the tripod and sat down.
Gleason and I sat there watching for some time. He was watching Jennifer’s house and
midget gay porn I was watching him watch Jennifer’s house. It kept getting darker and darker
midget gay porn. Finally, he reached into the briefcase and picked something up. He did something to it and I heard it beeping. It was a cellular phone.
“You’ve had it, bitch
midget gay porn!” I heard him say. “If you think those assholes you’ve got bugging me are going to scare me off, cunt, you’re wrong! It ends tonight, bitch! I’m going to end it! Get ready!” He clicked off the phone and threw it into the suitcase.
My heart was pounding and my chest felt tight. I slipped my pistol out of my
midget gay porn shoulder holster and eased the safety off. My prey had no idea of the surprise we’d arranged
midget gay porn for him, a surprise that, I hoped, would drive him over the edge.
“We’re ready to start,” Roscoe said softly over the radio. “They’re going upstairs
midget gay porn now.”
He was talking about a couple who worked for him. The woman, who was built a little like Jennifer, would be wearing a wig that duplicated Jennifer’s hairdo. Even with the telescope, Gleason wouldn’t be able to tell the difference at this distance, I hoped. The plan was for the woman and her husband to feign making love in full view of the sliding glass doors, to put on a show that
midget gay porn would send Gleason into a killing rage and force him to take action. He could shoot at them, and probably would, but the bullets wouldn’t get through the armored glass we’d installed. And, the minute he shot, I’d have him. I hoped.
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