I have a new book coming out soon – a work of fiction – centring around the incident below.
At 15:30, the tourist train, or Tren Turistico in Spanish, slows down to almost a crawl as it heads up Costa de San Domingos towards the Museo do Pobo Galego in Santiago de Compostela. From the wall of the Praza do 8 de Marzo, the passengers are only four feet away, an appropriate distance given that the man Pat Walker was about to kill with a hunting knife, was a hunter of wild animals in various parts of the world.
Walker was an expert thrower of knives in her day job and she realised this was a great place to kill her prey. Her only regret was that she couldn’t display a picture of herself holding the man aloft in triumph to show the world she was a great hunter.
Walker had purchased appropriate knives from a hunting shop in Pamplona plus a pair of ultra-thin gloves. She paid cash for the items. Walker was now sitting at the Porta do Camino Bar waiting for the time to tick over from 15:23 to 15:24.
She glanced over to her right at the Terraza do Plaza bar and observed two patrons, both facing away from her. Walker had changed her clothing and added a baseball cap. Another set of clothes and another hat awaited on her hotel bed. She also had a black plastic bag and a new passport, a new identity, because in just over 6 minutes Pat Walker would be no more.
In the square opposite some people had music blasting out while smoking pot and shouting at each other in that friendly way stoned people have. Everything looked good until Walker noticed a head bobbing up and down in the actual corner she wanted to use for her attack. Who could that be?
At 15:25 she walked over to the square and glanced over to the corner. She saw the man from the train two days previously. He held a rifle. Walker thought of an idea. She went back to the cafe, put on her gloves, and untied a weight keeping the umbrellas stable on the outside tables. She picked up the weight in one hand and walked as nonchalantly as possible over to the square again, waiting for a bus to pass by before crossing the road.
Walker had a knife in her other hand, for insurance. She checked the Terraza bar and saw no one. The time approached 15:28. Tourist train 2034BGW came into sight. The man in the corner had eyes only for the train. Walker approached.
Suddenly, someone was trying to strangle her. An amateur. Walker elbowed him in the stomach and then stabbed her assailant in the neck. The marksman stood up, about to open fire on the train. Walker hit him on the head with the weight.
The marksman crumpled onto the wall.
A voice shouted, “Great job, buddy.”
There was a hail of bullets in reply.
Bio: I am a writer. I love writing mysteries and thrillers, especially on topics close to my heart. A list of my books, both about travel and other subjects, can be found here.