I spot movement. Finally. My eye to the rifle’s scope, I zero in upon what used to be a bakery, patiently waiting to see if it was more than a stray...flap of cloth flirting with the wind. Again. I smile coldly, my instincts telling me that there is a beating heart hidden somewhere in the scatter of rubble that marks the building. Sure enough, I make out a shape, well camouflaged in white and grey. A Russian soldier. With a practiced eye, I center the cross hair on where I discern his head to be,. She worked as route coordinator for the local school districts bus routes. I drove to make extra income. Me and Megan started out with the usual small chat, good laughs from time to time and the occasional dirty joke. She was real cool people and never once snarled at such a joke, in fact she initiated by jokingly accusing me of staring at another female drivers ass every chance i could get and calling me a horny black dude. Spot on in her assessment I thought to myself lol.I usually finished. More

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