At four I get back to the hotel and draw a warm bath before dressing as Barbara and going to the airport. I show the picture ID to the man at the flight desk and then I relax in the lounge before they board the plane.

The flight is beautiful as the sun is almost setting when I arrive at LAX just about seven-thirty, taking a cab to the Loews. I go to the room and find everything just as I had left it. The bed is unmade, clothes thrown on the chair and the bathroom still messy with my makeup. I put on surgical rubber gloves, take a bathroom towel and carefully wipe the room, removing any possible fingerprints I may have left.

I unpack the shipping case and remove the rifle box, opening the top and admiring the piece. I take out the stock, laying the glistening rosewood on the bed. I place the custom barrel in its slot and tighten the two setscrews. The front bi-pod rest snaps to the front of the barrel before I position the 4-14X56 Military Scope into its mounts. I screw on the silencer and clip the flash arrester to the end. The bolt is then seated and a single 7.62 NATO hollow point shell is inserted into the chamber.

I finishes the assembly as the streetlights go on and the neon lights on the amusement rides glitter against the orange sunset. The lights are off in the room as I move a chair to the open window overlooking the pier.

I place the front mounting feet on the sill and screw into the wood, steadying the front of the rifle securely. It is a quarter to nine and I can see the agents in their positions as I scan the area through the scope. Detective Logan is in the shadows of a nearby restaurant. Leo is operating the ride. Brenda is standing against the ticket booth. I look at her childish red lips as the cross hairs center on her turned up nose.

"Ping", I whisper as I move the rifle to Bill's profile in the shadows. His face is dark but the sight zero's on his temple.

"Ping", I say. imagining the side of his head splattering the bricks. I see several more people that must be agents. One, with a sniper rifle, on the roof of the restaurant. Another riding the Ferris wheel, also with a sniper rifle.

"Out for bear", I whisper, again focusing my sights on the pretty blond Brenda.

"Eenie, Menie, Minie & Mo", I whisper, moving the scope from one mark to another target. I settle on Leo, the ride operator.

"Leo", I say, " ... you win!" My breathing settles into a slow, rhythmic, pace. The two feet on the front of the M21 rest on the windowsill as my finger tightens on the trigger.

Leo stands near the entrance of the elephant ride, leaning against the railing as he watches the kids ride happily in front. Brenda is leaning against the ticket booth and there is a small girl standing directly behind my target. I wait patiently until the mother takes the little girl's hand and leads her away from the ride. Now, there is no one behind Leo.

"Un-trusting son-of-a-bitch", I whisper, slowly squeezing the trigger until there in a nearly inaudible sound and a recoil against my shoulder.

My eye is fixed to the scope as I watch the back of Leo's head explode from the impact of the bullet. He is thrown back and falls on the asphalt.

I watch briefly as the agents' scramble. The guy on the roof scans the pier with binoculars as I unclip the rifle from the front bi-pod. Laying the M21 on the bed I remove the mount from the windowsill. I dismantle the weapon, returning the pieces to the gun case, but keeping the barrel and bolt on the bed. I put the black case in the cardboard shipping container, tying the box with the cord.

I take the leather wallet I had bought, adding some cash, small change and business cards I had collected around Phoenix. There was no identification, other than the fingerprints of the store clerk. I drop the wallet on the floor and kick it under the bed.

I wrap the barrel and slide bolt in a towel, placing them in the shipping tube along with the rubber gloves. I secure the tin plugs in the end of the tube.

I take the two packages my small suitcase and place the Do Not Disturb sign on the door. I take the elevator to the main floor and leave the hotel, flagging a cab on the corner. Once inside I ask the driver to take me to the Redondo Beach Pier, stopping at the Federal Express office on the way. The main shipping location is near LAX, and I overnights the shipping box to Mary Wright, General Delivery, hold for arrival, Federal Express, Phoenix, Arizona.

We continue. The drive from the airport to Redondo Beach is another fifteen minutes. I am dropped off on the circular entrance to the pier. I leave my suitcase in the cab, telling the driver to pick me up in an hour so I can make the eleven O'clock flight to Phoenix. He agrees, so I take the shipping tube and walk to the end of the pier. Several men are fishing about twenty feet from the corner but they are talking, smoking and paying little attention. A few couples are on the point of the pier and the restaurants are busy.

I take the tube and throw it off the end of the pier and the container sinks immediately. The image of Leo's head exploding is in my mind as I think of the cardboard disintegrating and the part sinking to the deep Redondo Canyon floor.

My mission completed, I get a hamburger and a coke at Charlie's Place and sit in front watching the strollers on the Friday night. An older man tries to hit on me but a cop passes and he runs guy off. Finishing my meal I make a call from the public phone at the entrance to the pier to the Loews Hotel. I tell the agent that I have caught an afternoon flight to San Francisco because of another emergency and to close out my bill.

They comply, telling me that I will be charged for the extra day, which I expected.

I then walk to the circle just as the cab pulls up.

"LAX", the driver asks?

"And quick", I reply.