So LOUD A silence

A Wolf in a Sheep's Skin

Father JAMES, a catholic priest in his sixties, lit up the candles and took to the knee for a word of prayer in the most reverent manner. The incense- filled church auditorium spoke volumes of how much organization and decorum within its walls was chiefly regarded. The furniture and fixtures were all arrayed in an orderly yet beautiful manner. And the floors sparkled free from dust. Father James loved it there. In fact, word on him, had it that he would rather be in the house of prayer at any given day and time clad in a black shirt and trousers, and a pair of black shoes. And above all, his white priestly collar always took it’s spot around the collar of his shirt.

Pola and Ian stepped foot in the revered place of prayer and walked to the alter where Father James had knelt. The duo was armed with guns but they were thoughtful enough not to parade the weapons.

Sensing intrusion by the duo’s entrance, James discontinued his lone pious ritual and sprung back to his feet. He looked at the obtrusive duo with a perfectly weighted gaze and made a soft utterance, “I never thought a day would come when the police would come here armed with concealed guns.”

Ian parried his sentiments almost immediately, “I never thought a day would come when blood thirsty men would do evil and hide in the Lord's name.”

“What are you talking about? What are you doing here?” James wondered.

Ian’s mouth curved with a devilish smile. He reached his inner breast pocket, fetched the warrant of arrest and served it to James. Then he pronounced, “You're under arrest for the murder of Ivy. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in the court of law.”

James countered in a perplexed tone, “What? What are you talking about?” But Ian was not having it. “Take him away.”

Pola, who had taken rather a passive role in the arrest preliminaries, quickly reached for James’ arms to cuff him.

James raises his hand gently in opposition and insisted, “No need for that, child.”

James took the lead walking out of the church. He kept calm and level- headed. Ian and Pola walked closely on either side of him. None of them said a word.

A sizeable crowd had gathered outside the church as spectators to James’ arrest. Some were sympathy- filled while others deemed it as a chance to capture the moment on their phones and cameras in a bid to share with the world on social media. To James, this was another wrong accusation that would glide away with the passage of time. He was an ardent believer of the fact that those who take care of their character, need not worry about their reputation. And, to the arresting duo, it was simply another pole- positioned suspect cornered in a murder case.

A moment later

The trio emerged outside the church. Their exodus was met with boos and cheers all at the same time by a few suspecting onlookers that had gathered about from a reasonable distance to witness the arrest. Ian and Pola kept their composure and ushered father James their car. This time, they drew even closer to the clergy man and dictated the pace at which he walked with their hasty steps.

Meanwhile, Kilogram, atop an old building across the street, was trying to find the perfect aim at James with a suppressed AKA47 riffle. His mission was to stealthily kill on sight the purported murderer and secure the much needed cold justice by Ivy’s family. But Ian’s towering figure obstructed him. Even so, he patiently waited for a perfect window to get the job done with his index finger locked around the trigger of the gun.

By the car, Pola walked around to the driver’s seat eager to take the suspect away. “I will drive,” she announced.

Ian nodded and opened the back door for James who had gathered courage from the cheers and boos emanating from the growing cluster of spectators. The latter flexed his muscle of opposition, “I'm an ordained man of God. Why are you doing this?”

"Thou shalt not take the name of LORD thy God in vain. You’re nothing but a wolf in a sheep’s skin." Ian countered with scripture.

At that moment, Kilogram had a clear sight of James and he pulled the trigger in a haste.

Disgusted and visibly out of patience, Ian aggressively grabbed James and forced him into the car in a split of a second, “Sit, down...” Thus Ian stood between James and the incoming bullet.

The bullet lodged in Ian's nape, sending him helplessly and almost lifeless on top of James in the car. Blood spattered from his unconscious body. Pola was in tune with reality in an instant. But she was short of an action to take. Confusion took central stage. No one was safe – no, not ONE. Worse off, no one knew where Kilogram was aiming from. And the few onlookers’ indiscriminate screams and scampering in every direction served only as fuel to the panic and fear in Pola and James heads.

James made the first panicky call, “I think he's been shot! He's been shot!”

Pola leaned back and helped pull Ian into the car. “Pull him in and close the door!”

“I'm trying!” James gave reply while bulldozing himself to the other side of the back- seat of the car with Ian’s half dead weight on his body.

Kilogram on the other hand was not done. He shot again. The bullet pierced and shuttered the window to the back door.

“Close the door!” Pola screamed while trying to start the car. Luckily, the engine vibrating to life was only a key- turn away. She drove away a few meters in a haste before hitting the brake and leaning back to close the door forcefully. The tyres screeched and burnt no sooner than she sprung back to the steering wheel and sped off.

Kilogram retracted stealthily from his shooting position with rage.