Joe closed the tent flaps and made quick work of the dousing the campfire. Bacon and eggs would have to fuel him the entire day, since he would be leaving town and the country. He grabbed the essentials for his carryon—passport, writing pad and pen, camera, the film evidence, and some pepper spray. He smiled ironically thinking the spray would not help against the assassins chasing him, but maybe it would delay them a few moments. There was always a chance, he had to believe that—a possible escape. Otherwise he might as well wait here in the woods and accept his fate. Doing his job if you could call it a job, was dangerous and the inevitability of death was always in his mind. He grabbed the duffle bag, adjusted the ceramic gun in a hidden pocket, and threw the bag in the car. Twenty minutes later he was parking in the airport lot. He never saw the killer approaching from behind a large vehicle and there was no time to reach for his gun, or pepper spray. Joe was dead in an instant.
The Bag Lady 
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