Chapter Three
Heavy raindrops poured down the windshield and blurred my vision as I struggled to get a clear view through my binoculars. Reaching for the lever behind the steering wheel, I flicked on the car’s windshield wipers allowing them to run their course for several seconds before disengaging them. Now my view was clear, and I could see my targets down the road. The four FOWL members were moving with a sense of urgency. Their clothes looked heavy and wet as they scampered to load up the van. The mostly white neighborhood in Westwego, Louisiana, looked gray and somber as the dark rain clouds hovered above. All four of the bastards had decided to carry out their dirty work despite the bad weather. I pressed the binoculars to my eyes and strained for a look before mother nature once a
