She decided to clean things up more but in a different way as she could not bear the idea of sitting on the couch where the bulky dead man had sat. She took some Dettol wipes and went over the whole couch after stripping it from the covers she had put on it. She stripped the floor of all the carpets and set about cleaning the floor with the Dettol wipes which had a flowery smell to them. She scrubbed and scrubbed until her fingers ached. She realised she was letting her old OCD based behaviour come back because of this incident. She had never been able to stomach the smell of blood nor the sight of it oozing out of wounds. Her work at the unit was mainly intelligence based as well as catching criminals and she had fired her gun only a few times.
She washed her hands and decided that she would feel better after a good warm bath. She filled the tub with hot water, added some Epsom salts and a bit of cold water before she eased herself into it. The water and the salts started relaxing her aching muscles. All these hectic incidents were getting the better of her nerves. She wondered if she had done the right thing by leaving Dubai and getting to London where it was more difficult to hide from both her previous unit and from the ISWAP as well as Boko Haram. It seemed they were getting to her all too easily. She also wondered why Al Shabab would want to take down a head of a Boko Haram unit.
She was well aware that Boko Haram and Al Shabab were not exactly friends but she had never thought before that they would turn against one another rather than uniting against the Western world. Would it not make more sense for them to unite their strengths in order to have a stronger impact against the non-believers that they were looking to castigate? She heard a strange noise in her living room and froze. Who was this now? Boko Haram had already been there and her unit normally would not sneak into her apartment as they had their cameras everywhere and very likely already knew what had happened in the road outside as well as what had gone on in her flat. She had realised that they only wanted to monitor everything, especially Boko Haram movements and they did not seem keen on actually catching Manas.
She rose slowly from the bath, trying to make the least noise possible. She reached out to her gun which was on the chair next to the bath tub. Her gown was hanging on the wall opposite the bath tub and she doubted she would have the time to reach it. She wiped her feet on the rug to ensure she did not slip stupidly and make it easier for the intruder to overcome her. She held the gun at the level of her face, pointing it outward, determined to kill whoever it was in the living room. Her heart was racing as it had been a while since she had killed anyone directly. She burst into the living room gun cocked and ready to shoot and found herself face to face with a young black man who was pointing his gun at her...
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