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K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N
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Reluctant Warrior
By Reverend jim (yellowyenko@hotmail.com)
***
Reverend Jim was starting his seventeenth year as a
pastor. He very much enjoyed and believed in spiritual
things. He married not long after his 34th birthday,
his wife Jan was also 34. They shared many interests
and life was primarily good. Not long after their 4th
Anniversary, they welcomed their first child, Gracie,
into their family. (kidnap, v, sn, military)
***
Reverend Jim did not indulge too much of his past
history to Jan, nor to anyone else. In his younger days
Jim worked for the military of the United States. Just
before graduation, Jim had joined the Army and soon
found himself saying yes to the Special Forces. His
mentor, Captain Gerald Gerard, now a full bird Colonel,
had personally trained him and a handful of others to
be special, very special. At the time, there were
special forces and then there were elite special
forces, of which Jim soon became a part of.
The military always looked for the same criteria for
this group, single, excels in all training, and a
warrior type mentality and in Jim's case it helped that
he was multi-lingual. His training was immense. A
seventeen year old was like putty in the instructors'
hands. Jim did so well to his initial training that
before his 20th birthday he was chosen to be one of
five men who were known in military circles as Viper
Squad, or in civilian terms, `all specialty.'
Jim's specialties included computer programming and
hacking, guerilla warfare, sharpshooter (all types of
weapons), disguises, over 40 languages spoken fluently,
explosives expert including nuclear and chemical
weaponry, field surgeon, aviation, engine mechanics,
electrical engineer, and much more.
In the 10 years of active service, Jim `visited' over
40 countries around the world. He normally would burrow
in a government to steal information or make a hit.
Jim's membership in the Viper Squad was well documented
by his superiors but was buried deep in government
classification, where not even high commanding officers
of the military were allowed unless given priority
status.
Jim rose fast in rank and was designated as a major
just before asking for an inactive designation. He was
an active participant in Viper Squad well into the
early years of his ministry, taking vacations and days
off to help the government with some high security
issue. His fair complexion and blonde hair pretty well
kept him in the Eastern Bloc countries. These traits he
had hid from everyone except his father.
When Jim was 32 years old, he retired from active
service. The cold war was over and the Eastern Bloc
Communist countries had all but disappeared. He began
losing his physical build to inactivity and soon he was
carrying a good 260 pounds on his six foot frame, up
from his fighting weight of 210. Don't be mistaken, he
was still fast, very fast, but he didn't look it.
None of his friends or church members would ever guess
he was once a member of the special forces of the
United States. He guessed that being fat would deter
the military from reactivating him. He kept in touch
with Colonel Girard over the years. The colonel kept
him posted on goings on within the government's
military. Viper Squad was all but gone, three of the
force had been killed in action, one had gone his own
way and hired out to the highest bidder and Jim was
inactive.
Recently Jim acquired a gift from Colonel Girard, a new
experimental handheld tracking device hooked up to a
billion dollar satellite hovering over the United
States. It was the first step into keeping track of its
citizens as they approach the New Millennium. Girard
sent him a note to test it out and play with it and
review it for him. It came with a tiny transmitter that
would be the actual tracking bug that the satellite
could pinpoint within seconds. Jim sent a quick encoded
email of thanks to Girard.
It lay around the office for several days until Jim had
a quick thought, he decided to transplant the dime size
tracking device into a pair of Gracie's shoes. He made
a small incision in the shoe and inserted the tracker.
Over the next few weeks he activated the test alert on
the GPS and within seconds the satellite had
communicated with the GPS giving him a city map of
where Gracie was at with her mom, driving directions
would pop up on the LCD screen and when the GPS was
within 100' of the bug, it would beep and the dot would
flash. It worked great.
Jan worked two days a week. It was during one of these
days that Reverend Jim had his two year old daughter
Gracie at the park one Fall afternoon, the older
children were in school and there were only a
sprinkling of people in the massive park. They made
their usual trek around the park, swings, sliding
boards, feeding the ducks, and more swinging.
Gracie had just been potty trained and could really fly
in her panties, the diapers wouldn't allow her to run
real fast. Jim normally let her get 10 or so feet away
from him before calling her back or running and
catching up with her. As always, there were those in
the park that he raised his eyebrows at, older single
men, just sitting on a bench and waving at everyone. He
dismissed his fears of one particular man some time
ago. He saw him often and was always pleasant to talk
to.
Gracie was about 8' in front of him when he caught a
movement behind him and to the right, before he had a
chance to defend himself, someone had hit him in the
back of the head and he fell forward to the ground. His
only concern was for Gracie, he tried to yell for her,
only to see the man who had hit him sweep her up in his
arms and jump into a car that was passing by.
Fear crept into Jim as he tried to shake the dizziness
away, jabs of pain shot through his head. His heart was
in his stomach as he tried to comprehend what was
happening, his thoughts were not clear. He had to do
something, he had to swallow the pain and move now. Jim
struggled to his feet and saw the dark blue sedan
speeding away.
Jim walked shakily back to his minivan and started it
up and sped through the park. The wheels on the van
seemed to come right through the floorboard as he hit
the speed bumps. "Stupid, stupid, stupid," Jim thought
as he went over the last few minutes. It must have been
the man sitting on the park bench but he was not sure.
Suddenly Jim thought about the GPS unit, Gracie was
wearing her "special shoes." He had left the GPS unit
at home, he turned the vehicle and headed home as fast
as he could without drawing attention to himself.
Pulling in the driveway he jumped out of the vehicle
and entered the house and garage area and found the
unit. After turning the unit on he pressed the red
button alert, signaling the satellite to pick up the
bug. He hoped the man had not thrown away Gracie's
shoes. Before leaving the garage, he pulled the attic
ladder down from the ceiling and dug furiously through
the insulation until he found his Italian made silenced
PP7 and checked the clip before putting it in his
pocket.
He ran into the bedroom and grabbed a pair of his
wife's pantyhose from the bureau before going back out
to the van. As he was backing out of the driveway, he
slipped a pair of thin gloves on and checked the GPS
and found that the satellite had found the bug and was
telling him to go North and East from his house. His
head still rocked from being hit and he was angry, more
angry that he had ever been before. As he drove he
periodically checked the unit, he was getting closer.
He had driven approximately 2 miles into the center of
the commercial district of the community in which he
lived. As he approached the square, where there was
several commercial buildings, stores, and warehouses,
the unit started flashing. He was within a 100' more or
less of the bug. He hoped that his efforts to find his
daughter didn't end at a trash can. Jim drove around
the square and did not see the dark colored sedan he
remembered from the park. He drove through the alleys
and backstreets until he spotted the car that looked a
lot like the one he had seen, the GPS was still
flashing.
Reverend Jim parked the van near the sedan and surveyed
his surroundings, no one was lurking about. He tested
several doors until one opened quite suddenly and he
was face to face with a man he'd never seen before.
"What do you want?" He asked gruffly. "Is this the rear
entrance to the pharmacy?" Jim asked casually.
"No, I believe..." The man started but did not finish
has Jim buried the hard part of his palm against the
man's nose.
Jim heard the tell tale sound of bones crushing and
caught the man before he fell, blood spattered from the
man's nose all over Jim. Jim knew he'd either sent the
man's nose into his brain and killed him or just
disabled him for awhile, he hoped the latter. He
meticulously searched the building and at last came
upon an area that was quite well hid from view. He
probably would not have found the area if he had not
heard a child crying, "Bingo!" He thought as he pulled
the stocking over his head and face. He pulled the
silenced pistol out of his belt and proceeded to go
toward the whimpering, maneuvering around stacks of
cardboard boxes as he went.
The sight that Jim saw when he finally came upon the
area flamed his anger even more. His young daughter was
lying on a table, her little arms taped down to the
table, her coat lying on the floor, she was still
wearing her shirt although it had been bunched up
around her neck. Her pants and briefs had been taken
off, but her shoes left on. There was one man standing
between her little legs, laughing. Three other men were
in the room, two on one side of the table, the third on
the opposite side, these men were dressed in business
suites and had their hard cocks in their hands.
"Well, I think since I took the risk in kidnapping the
bitch, I should have the first go at her." The man
standing in between Gracie's legs said.
"She hasn't been violated yet," Jim sighed to himself.
Sick as a situation this was, as soon as the man said
this, one of the suits ejaculated on Gracie and one of
the men across the table soon followed. Jim's lip
curled up in anger, he knew he had only seconds to take
care of this situation. As the men laughed together,
Gracie appeared subdued, he hoped they didn't drug her,
but probably she was just in shock from not only the
situation but also the cold temp in the warehouse.
Jim rushed in the room with surprising speed and shot
the man standing between Gracie's legs in the side of
the head, blood splattered over the other three men and
Gracie as the man crumpled to the floor. "AGAINST THE
WALL NOW!" Jim shouted shoving the man nearest him
towards the wall.
There was mass confusion as the men started shouting,
pleading for the lives. He quickly patted them down but
found no weapons.
"ON YOUR KNEES, NOW!" Jim screamed.
All three of the suits did as they were told.
"PUT YOUR HANDS BEHIND YOUR HEADS AND IF YOU LOOK BACK,
YOU ARE DEAD! DIG YOUR BILLFOLDS OUT AND THROW THEM
BEHIND YOU, THE LAST ONE TO COMPLY GETS A BULLET IN HIS
KNEE!"
He gathered up their billfold and dug their licenses
out and pocketed them. He hissed. "There, there little
girl, you're safe now," Jim cooed trying to calm the
blood splattered Gracie. He quickly untapped her hands,
gathered up her clothes and her in his arms, she fell
limply onto him. He smelled the semen mixed with
Gracie's puke heavily as he picked her up. The suits
were whimpering before him still begging for their
lives. He felt like killing them all, but didn't.
Much quieter Jim hissed toward the quivering suited
men, "If this little girl suffers any type of effect
from what has happened here, I will hunt you down and
make you suffer!" He backed out of the room with the
limp form of Gracie in his arms and grabbed a small
cellular phone off the top of a box. One man tilted his
head to look toward them and Jim sent a round into his
leg causing him to scream out in pain as he fell
forward.
Jim was sweating profusely as he pulled the stocking
off his face and opened the door to the alley where his
van was parked. He slid into the driver's seat with
Gracie on his lap and started the van and pulled away.
Normally he would strap her in her seat, but he needed
to get away quickly.
About two blocks from the warehouse, he pulled the cell
phone out of his pocket and called 911 and said very
quickly in a heavy French accent, "there has been a
shooting in a warehouse just behind Mac's pharmacy,
please hurry!" He then turned it off and proceeded to
drive home still sweating profusely and adrenaline
rushing through his body, Gracie was still quivering in
his arms.
He pushed the garage door opener button as he rounded
the corner near his house and pulled the minivan in the
garage. He quickly and meticulously dropped his clothes
and pulled Gracie's clothes off and put them all in a
trash bag along with his coat. He couldn't find her
coat, it was probably still on the fucking floor of the
warehouse, he'd forgotten it!
He went into the bathroom and drew a nice warm bath for
Gracie. Calling on his past medical training, he
checked her blood spattered body over and determined
that she had not been hurt. He laid her down on the
floor just for a second and started to walk off to hide
the trash bag of clothes and the pistol when she began
screaming. Jim rushed back to his young daughter
whereupon she scampered into his arms and said, "Dada?"
"Let's take a bath," Jim said as cheerfully as possible
not wanting to alarm his traumatized daughter. Gracie
got into the tub and he and she scrubbed her body until
the water turned a pale red. After getting the blood
off of her, he drained the tub and turned on the shower
and got in the tub with her and proceeded to wash
himself of the scumbag's blood. Afterwards, he refilled
the tub with fresh water and let Gracie play and splash
like she always did, but was talking about red paint on
her. Jim smiled and sighed heavily and thanked God for
the safe return of his daughter.
After the warm bath, and two whole bottles of milk,
Gracie fell asleep in Jim's arms. He gently laid her on
the floor of the Family room and climbed the attic
stairs and hid the pistol, then he took the trash bag
of clothes and tied it tightly with some twine and
shoved it under the house until he could properly
dispose of them.
"I'm home!" Jan yelled as she closed the door and
walked through the house to the Family room. Gracie ran
to her mom and climbed into her waiting arms, Jim gave
his wife a kiss and asked how her day went. "Busy as
usual," she responded and slipped out of her coat.
Gracie was at the age where she could repeat and copy
everything she sees although her words sometimes were
not clear. "And what did you do today, little girl?"
Jan asked Gracie. "Red, men, hurt Gracie, noise, scare
Gracie, Red paint, men, scare, etc. etc.." Gracie
exclaimed excitedly.
"What is she talking about, Jim?" Gracie asked and
continued, "what men scared you, what noise...?"
Jim just shrugged his shoulders and began setting the
table for dinner. He had already decided not to tell
Jan about the kidnapping and attempted attack against
their daughter. To do so would have made him tell her
his life history with the Special Forces and at odds
with her keeping this kind of information from her, so
he decided not to tell.
A few days later, Colonel Girard showed up on his
doorstep, straight from Washington D.C.. He invited
Jerry in and introduced him as a friend to Jan and
Gracie, before Jerry, dressed in civvies, asked him if
they could go and have a cup of coffee somewhere.
"What's wrong," Jim asked Colonel Girard, puzzled by
his sudden visit.
"That GPS tracking system I lent you to test," Jerry
began. "Oh, yes, you can have it back, it works great!"
Jim answered.
"No, I don't want it back but there is a problem." He
responded. Looking at some notes he read, "On November
6, you alerted the satellite saying there was a
problem, not a test, but an actual emergency alert."
"Yes..." Jim hesitantly said.
"One thing I failed to mention to you, when there is an
actual emergency alert, the satellite pinpoints the
tracking bug and then administrates a hard copy of the
alert, it's approximate address, the registered owners
name and address to the local law enforcement."
"Oh," Jim responded quietly.
"I have deterred them for a few days of sending the
hardcopy saying it was a matter of national security,
but they will eventually send this to the local law
enforcement, Jim." Jerry said and asked, "what was the
problem?"
Jim stared at him for a few seconds before answering,
"My little girl, Gracie, was kidnapped in the park. I
didn't at the time have the GPS unit with me, but
fortunately for her, she had on the shoes in which the
tracking device was embedded. I went home and got the
unit, pushed the emergency alert button and got
directions in which she was taken."
"And..." Colonel Girard prompted looking suddenly
serious.
"I found her, she was in a warehouse with 4 men and I
had to kill two of them, one by hand and the other by a
pistol. I wounded a third in the leg..." Jim responded
shaking his head.
"FUCK!" Colonel Girard responded a bit too loudly for
Jim, causing other patrons of the restaurant to turn
and look at them. "And your plans to straighten this
out?" Girard asked.
"Up until now it was justifiable homicide, far as I was
concerned." Jim replied.
"And now....?" Girard prompted.
"Now, it looks like I'm going to have to turn myself
in." Jim answered.
"Okay, let's look at your options." Girard said pulling
out a small tablet. "You hit and accidentally killed a
man who was guarding the door, you shot and killed a
man standing over your partially nude daughter, and you
shot a bystander. Correct?" Girard asked.
"Yes," Jim replied.
"Who was the bystander?" he asked.
"There were three men dressed in suits standing at the
side of the table with cocks in hand, masturbating over
my daughter, he was one of them. I had them kneel and
face the wall and as Gracie and I were backing out of
the room, he tried to steal a glance at me and I shot
him in the leg." Jim continued. "I didn't know who they
were at the time, nor did I care. But the local paper
filled in the blanks."
"What are the papers saying?" Girard asked.
Jim responded, "The papers say the three suits
interrupted three men in the warehouse that one of the
suits owned. According to the men, they were meeting in
the office discussing Community Betterment issues," Jim
snickered sarcastically. "These three men are all well
respected family and businessmen in the community. One
is a Vice-President of a local bank, one is the
principle at the high school and the other co-owns a
funeral home in town." Jim told Girard.
"How convenient." Girard whispered.
Jim nodded and continued, "According to local law
enforcement, the two dead men have rap sheets longer
than your arm spanning at least 20 years for child
molestation, pedophile activities, child pornography,
and the one I shot had outstanding warrants in Ohio and
Indiana for these activities."
"Why didn't you go forward as soon as it happened, Jim?
It is an open and shut case!" Girard stated.
"Because I didn't want Gracie to be paraded, and the
suits were going to be a problem with community ties."
He responded.
"Okay, I'll send an attorney down here for Washington,
you go and turn yourself in, TODAY!" Girard demanded.
"Jan, I have to talk with you." Jim said as he walked
into the family room.
"Okay, talk away," she responded not lifting her head
up from her playing with Gracie.
"Serious, look at me...." He said.
Jan looked up at him and saw he was visibly upset.
"What's wrong?" She asked concerned for him.
"You have been hearing about the murders last week of
the two child molesters uptown, right?" He asked her.
"Yes, it bothers me greatly, you know." She responded
with sarcasm.
Then Jim started to tear up and spilled the whole story
to her. It was hard to determine what she thought
because of the sheer information she was trying to
comprehend. "And, now what?" She finally asked.
"Now I'm turning myself in." He whispered.
She grabbed her coat and dressed Gracie and said,
"Let's go."
They walked past several officers standing in the
hallway and came to a stop in front of a desk with an
officer typing something. Barely looking up, he asked,
"May I help you folks?"
"I'm here to turn myself in for the homicides last
week." Jim said with level tone. Within a few seconds,
officers had surrounded Jim and handcuffed him.
Jan and Gracie left and went home after Jim told her
not to worry.
Three investigators, 1 from the local police
department, 1 Highway Patrolman, and one ATF agent, sat
across the table from the manacled Jim Pulpit. A
camcorder had been set up in order to tape his
confession. Behind the mirror in the room, Jim knew
several others were staring at him.
"Okay, Mr. Pulpit, tell us what happened." Jim began
the story with him and Gracie in the park and ended the
story with him hiding the bag of clothes under his
house. "My wife knew nothing of this until a short time
before I turned myself in." He ended.
"You say the three businessmen were a part of this
crime against your young daughter?" One investigator
asked again.
"Yes," Jim replied and repeated their part. "Do you
have any proof of these allegations?" He asked.
"The only proof I have is two of them ejaculated on my
daughter's clothes before I shot the man between her
legs readying himself to rape her." Jim answered.
"And these stained clothes are the ones you mentioned
that are under your house in a trash bag?" He asked
leaning down toward Jim.
"Yes, they are unwashed and in a trash bag under my
house." Jim replied again.
"Mark," he called out the door. "Call Mrs. Pulpit and
tell her that we'd like to come over and get something
from the house."
"Yes, sir!" The officer responded.
"Mr. Pulpit, do you still have the weapon you used?"
The investigator asked.
"Yes," Jim answered again. The pistol is in a Ziploc
baggie and in the attic of the house. Jim had removed
the silencer and had melted it down. He did not tell
the officers he had used a silenced weapon since they
were illegal.
The investigators poured over the trash bag of blood
and semen stained clothes and examined the Italian made
PP7. They sent all the clothes to the state's crime lab
to be examined, via an officer.
Evening came and Jim was taken once again to the
interrogation room. "Mr. Pulpit? Is the pistol
registered?"
"No, it is not," came the reply. Jim learned long ago
not to register weapons.
"We have never seen a pistol quite like the one you
have, where did you get it?" An investigator asked.
"I purchased it in New York City, from a street vendor
some years ago." Jim responded.
"From a street vendor, illegally I suppose?" The
investigator sneered.
"Yes sir." Jim answered.
They took Jim back to his cell that he shared with
several other men. He kept to himself. Just once in the
past 5 days in lockup had he been tested and it was by
a punk of about 20 who wanted Jim's bunk and judged the
pudgy Jim as easy pickins for a power play. "Hey,
fatso, you are laying in my bed." The punk said.
The other young men snickered. Jim tried to ignore the
punk which made him even madder. "I'm talkin' to you,
fatboy!" The punk said as he walked toward Jim.
Jim sat up and then stood and faced the young man. "I
think you better leave it alone!" Jim responded.
"I think you better leave it alone," the man mocked and
then swung at Jim.
Jim side stepped the fist, caught it and held the
punk's arm under Jim's arm pit and in the same motion
hit the punk hard in the face with his left elbow,
causing the punk's nose and mouth to erupt in blood and
tissue. He started screaming and fell to the floor of
the 5 man cell.
"What in the hell happened in here?" The large jailer
yelled through the bars, watching the young man writhe
in pain on the floor.
"I don't know officer, I think he must have the stomach
virus or something," Jim answered and then looked at
the other 3 men who just shrugged their shoulders and
nodded their heads. "Well fuck!" The jailor responded
and left to get a couple of more officers who took the
punk out of the cell and presumably to the hospital, we
never saw him again in our cell.
LOCAL MINISTER CONFESSES TO MURDERS!
Screamed the headlines on the front page of the local
paper as well as the area papers. However, they did not
know and could not print his revelation of the 3
businessmen's part in the kidnapping and attempted
molestation of his daughter.
Reporters poured over the department everyday looking
for more stories in the murder case, the public hungry
for information. The church in which Jim pastored
wasted no time in announcing that Jim's orders had been
stripped and he had been removed from the ranks of
their ministry. Jan told him in several visitations
that she could no long even step out of the house,
because reporters were camped out everywhere, a few
even going into the backyard trying to get interviews
and pictures of his wife and daughter. This angered Jim
very much.
The three businessmen were each called in individually
and each requested an attorney before they would answer
any questions at all. They were arrested on the spot
for suspicion of pedophile activities and perjury in
trying to cover up a crime. They had practiced what
they would say, but in the interrogation room, 1 of
them couldn't remember his lines. However, it was still
held from the businessmen as well as the community that
they may be semen samples that would prove their
involvement, since it would take a couple of weeks for
the test results to come back.
The community rose up against the latest accusations
saying Jim was trying to implicate them because he was
facing dire straits.
They placed the three suits in a detention cell down
the block from where Jim was being held. Holding out a
mirror from the bars, Jim saw the first suit go in his
cell. The block was monitored by sound and one camera
which pointed down the hallway. Jim yelled down the
hallway to the first cell block, "Hey John, you still
down there."
A voice yelled back, "Yeah, what the hell you want?"
"You see the suit that just got locked up with ya." Jim
continued, "he likes children, young children if you
know what I mean!"
John, a `three strikes your out' arm robbery suspect
that Jim had befriended in the cell block, glared at
the suit, "is dat true?" He asked, "you like to do it
with chillen?"
About that time the jailer busted in the room and
removed the suit from John's block and put him in a
private cell and then went down to where Jim was and
said, "Please don't do that, it won't help your case at
all." Jim smiled at the jailer and nodded.
The businessmen hired attorneys who quickly got them
out of jail, after finding out they were merely being
held without being charged. The investigators in the
case had a judge subpoena all three for sperm samples
for DNA testing. One suit never showed up at the
hospital testing facility and never went home and was
listed as missing by his family and as a runner by the
law enforcements.
One suit actually did show up and give a sample but his
was found to be negative to the two samples found on
Gracie's shirt. The third and most powerful suit was
balking at going and giving a sample, his attorneys
were arguing his case and refusing to obey the
subpoena. An arrest warrant was issued for the
principle of the high school who was on the run.
Reverend Jim remained in the county jail with no bail
assessed on him. He didn't mind it too bad, three
squares a day, limited exercise time, and a bed and
most of all respect of the others in his cell block.
Girard had acquired an attorney from a large
metropolitan city near the small community in which Jim
was being held, Jim had negated the offer of a D.C.
attorney saying that would cast suspicion on him from
other areas. The local attorney worked closely with Jim
and his wife, Jan. And, Jan & Gracie, would come by
every other day and see him. For the most part, Jan
stayed at home or with her parents because of the
constant sprinkling of reporters always around bugging
her.
About 2 weeks after the initial subpoenas had went out
for the three businessmen, the principle whose semen
allegedly was on Gracie's shirt was found in a wooded
area near the community, a victim of suicide. He killed
himself with his own registered handgun and some
hunters found him in a heavily wooded area. The suicide
made the community rethink their anger in the case and
cast shadows of doubt on the other two businessmen.
The attorneys for the powerful businessman told their
client that he was going to have to submit a semen
sample or he'll go to prison for contempt. He finally
relented and gave a sample. A week later police arrived
at his palatial home and arrested him for child
molestation, a charge that shocked the community.
Through negotiations, he plea bargained for a lesser
charge, turning evidence on the other suit and the two
men who were killed.
At the trial, the community was further shocked by
allegations one businessman confessed to and evidence
presented on the other businessmen. It is quite
shocking to realize the men one puts a lot of faith and
trust into are capable of crimes against children. The
powerful businessman received 5 years for pedophile
activities, the other businessman received 15 years for
his part plus perjury and hindering an investigation.
Of course the principle was dead by his own hand in
order that he wouldn't have to face friends and family.
Jim received 2 years of probation for unlawful use of a
unregistered weapon plus 3 years for manslaughter for
the guard he killed at the door, his sentence was
further reduced for time served in the year he spent in
the local jail awaiting the outcome of the trial. He
was found not guilty by reasons of defending his
toddler daughter for the murder of the pedophile which
kidnapped her.
***
Jim's final statement in the public attended court was
as follows:
My heart is heavy with the burden of which my sin has
caused to my family and friends.
I do not approve of one taking the law into one's own
hands, my anger overtook me and I am sorry for the pain
I've caused. My heart goes out to the children of our
community who are in constant danger from those who
would do them harm. For some say, that because of my
taking the law into my own hands, I have forfeited my
freedom to live as a free citizen.
I tell you today that the laws of this land might take
away this so called freedom, but they cannot take my
being free away, for the freedom that I have is not
wrought from human laws by human means. I have freedom
only because my Lord has died for my sins, yes even the
sins of which I have standing before you today. You can
lock away this body, you can throw away the key.
But I am as free in prison as I am in my own house. I
pray that the laws of this land will someday recognize
the great damage done to our children by those whom we
label as Pedophiles. That some day those that harm
children in this way will be locked away and never
released. The two men whom I killed in defense of my
daughter both had multiple offenses against children,
and yet they were allowed in our community, in our
parks, in our homes.
The only good that came from this was the exposure of
secret sins of respected men who had evil intentions
against our children. It is my hope that God forgives
them of their sins against children and that these sins
not be held against them when Judgment day comes.
Feedback please!
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This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author
does not condone the described behavior in real life.
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Kristen's collection - Directory 31