PROJECT SPARTA

CHAPTER 29

Crystal City, VA

2016

Jooles was eating a sandwich out of a folded wrapper as she stepped onto the Metro. If one had looked her over they would see a long, lean African American woman with beautiful dark eyes and a slight curl to her dangling bangs. As an expert in stealth her current assignment was to track a drug ring in the DC area. She immediately consulted her iPhone, in an effort to blend in with the public on mass transit. However, Jooles was not reading Drudge or playing Angry Birds rather she was profiling each passenger – a training exercise that had become a habit.

The corner of her eye met the drug dealer she was tracking this afternoon, hoping that he would lead her up the food chain. He was a Caucasian with a long Tupac graphic tee, untied Timberland boots and corn rows under a do-rag. He had hid a handgun tucked in the waist band of his pants, which sagged down below his ass. Jooles chuckled to herself at the sight, knowing this commute would be eventful. Right on cue, something unsurprising happened as soon as the door had closed. With about twenty people on the Metro car, the thug pulled out his gun and started waving it around. Screams sounded throughout the train car.

"Gimme' yo wallets now or I'll blow yo' head off! Aight? " he spoke in thick ebonics. A couple of elderly women whimpered and passed over their pocket books with shaky hands. The man walked down the aisle collecting wallets until he came to Jooles whose hands remained empty.

"Where's yours?!" He turned the gun sideways and aimed straight into Jooles's forehead. Jooles finally looked up from her phone and down the barrel of the gun at the thug who had no idea that he was robbing the wrong train.

"You in a gang? Trying to earn your merit badge? Well, I don't have a wallet for you." Her tone only grew more defiant. The thug didn't appreciate the insult and pressed the end of the pistol right on her forehead.

"What's that then, sista'!" He pointed at the clutch in her hand.

"First of all, I'm not your sista', I have an IQ of 187 so there is no way an idiot like you shares my gene pool. Second of all, this is a Coach clutch and you are not taking it from me, because I love Coach," she spoke frankly and calmer than any passenger on the train.

"Give me yo' wallet o' I'll shoot your fuckin' head off."

"You see, aiming the gun sideways is really the worst thing you can do for your aim." The thug adjusted his stance and aim almost in an off guard panic. He wasn't expecting a lesson in marksmanship.

"Oh, looks like we got a hero here, don't we?" He tried to bark up his confidence.

"No, not a hero... I'm just a pissed off girl, who doesn't have patience for guys like you robbing Granny over there. You should be ashamed of yourself, you coward! But not only are you a coward, you aren't even a good mugger. The problem with your approach is simple. First off your wrist is bent, making it easier for me to disarm you." Jooles ducked and snapped his wrist.

Once the bone broke his hand released – the gun fell to the train floor. "Second off, you're in close quarters so if I was to quickly do this..." She jabbed her hand into the thug's throat, causing his airway to temporarily collapse.

"You wouldn't be able to do anything, because you need space to attack..." She then heaved his body head first into the wall of the train car.

"And your pants are too low to have the mobility necessary to spring back on the defense." As the thug bounced off the wall, still gasping for air, Jooles yanked his pants down to his ankles, which was not difficult. The thug stumbled over his pants, which served as a lasso around his ankles. After desperate kicks for the ground, he fell to the ground and face-planted to the floor. Jooles snatched his handgun off the Metro car floor and popped the loaded bullet out of the barrel. As the lone bullet fell to the floor next to the thug, she tucked the firearm in the back of her pants. She beamed down in disgust at his untied Timberland boots.