"We can pray, Sister," she said, going back to addressing the envelopes. The two women busied themselves for the next hour, not hearing the door to the office open slowly.

Sitting behind her desk, Sister Mary Theresa had been thinking once again about that night when she stuck her fingers into her swampy pussy and toyed with herself. Oh, how could she be thinking of something that foul, that filthy right here in the campaign office? Guilty inhibition should be guiding her now. But once again her sexuality was getting the better of her.

The woman's thoughts were rudely interrupted by the slamming of the front door. Sister Mary Theresa jerked her head up. Men, four of them, wearing green military style clothing, strode into the office. Two stood by the door holding something. Only after several seconds ticked by did the young nun realize those objects were semiautomatic rifles!

"Oh, God, Sister Mary Theresa!" the young nun screamed, holding her fingers to her mouth as two of the men strode across the tiny office toward her.

"Fuckin' nuns. Told you," the tall dark-haired commando muttered, sweeping the top of her desk clean with his free hand. A service revolver was gripped tightly in the other hand.

"What are you doing here?" Sister Mary Theresa finally managed to get out. She felt terror shoot through her veins as the ruggedly handsome ringleader moved around her desk.

"Tell your friend not to open her mouth and she ain't gonna get hurt," the first man said.

Sister Mary Theresa motioned to the terrified nun to keep quiet while she tried to collect her thoughts. They looked like marines standing there. Two remained at the door, holding their rifles tightly to their bodies after locking the door and puffing the blinds shut both over the windows and front door. Were they thieves, radicals? If she hadn't known better, the nun would have thought they'd come straight from a war movie.