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The door broke and splinted as Lillian drove her heel in to the wood.
As the alarm bleared in to life she readied the sheriff pistol, clicking off the safety as she entered the club house.

It stank, the air heavy with the smells of stale beer, petrol and dead meat
She entered the main living room and put three round straight in the legs of the first Cossack.
In a blink she put second burst in him and headed after the others.
In the tight confines of club house, she moved from room to room gunning down every one she saw.

She smashed open the bathroom door and pointed her beretta at the man.
She fired, the bullet smashing the porcelain sink in to dust, then with a click her Beretta ran dry.

Half naked the man leap at her, he was a big heavy set man, with muscles deep under the flab.
With ease he knocker her down and landed on top of her raining down punches with one hand, as the other grasped around her throat.

Lillian’s head spun as his knuckles bloody her nose, but she had an ace up here sleeve.

She wiggled and squirmed, trying to throw the man of her until she could grab the knife from her boot.
The blade flashed as she trust in to arm pit, a spurt of crimson from artery and it was over.

A Lillian picked her self from the floor, a siren wailed in the distance.