“Stop. FBI. Hands. Let me see your hands Constantine. Hands on your head, NOW.” I heard her before I saw her, she stepped from a shadow, gun in hand by her side. Katya was halfway between me and Constatine.

“Katya, put the weapon down, and back up. Do it now but do it slowly.” My heart was racing. I turned my head, Constantine was moving, turning towards me. I saw a movement from Katya. Weapon raised she looked at Constantine. Out of reflex, I aimed and fired twice, center mass, and she dropped to the ground. I turned back to Constantine, not making it quite in time.

I was struck in the chest, pushing me off my feet, slamming my head on the concrete. The vest had saved my life; the ribs had been broken. Pain seared in me as the room spun and got darker. I had to stay awake, to close my eyes was to die. Disoriented, moving was difficult, I could hardly breathe. I was aware of the weapon I was laying on and heard footsteps getting louder. I was in danger.

“You should have waited for back-up. Good-bye asshole.”

He raised his weapon, I rolled over firing, shooting Constantine twice in the chest.

************

Waking in cold sweat, I lay for a while, reliving the nightmare again. I laid my head down on my pack. My muscles were warming, adjusting my cap pulling it down over my ears, I opened the tent door, standing, rubbing my neck.

Sitting, I mulled over the coming day. I could go to a shelter and get a meal, or I could go to a corner and beg for change. I was hungrier than usual, so I headed to the local shelter.  I wanted out, but I couldn’t hold a job. The nightmares won’t go away, and the headaches are always here. Sometimes I could see her in a shop window, a ghostly reflection staring back at me.

It always comes back to the same scene, Katya, gun raised, taking two to her chest. And the aftermath, reviewing my actions, blame from outside the Bureau, a dead DEA agent. The shooting was deemed justified. I wasn’t at fault. Those close to me say I have PTSD, that I should seek help, that I could come back from it.

Katya wasn’t her name, it was Hannah Scott, forever in my memory. A girl with a gun in her hand. She was one of the good guys. She had a family, and I took her away from them.

************

The headaches were worse now, I needed to lay down. With a little rest everything would be better. I would be able to forget, the headaches would go away. I could make my way back. I just needed rest, but nightmares were waiting.