Sister Mary Brigitte stood her ground, despite the barrel of the modernized Kalashnikov gun pointing right at her left eyeball, appearing as huge as a subway tunnel.

“Listen, friend, you are free tae take all of our supplies. Not that we have many. We are nuns, under the vows of poverty. The chair you just smashed in anger was likely the most expensive thing we owned.” She stared at the reedy Mujahideen who was pointing the rifle at her. Despite being definitely on the mature side, and a nun, she would be easily capable of wrestling this idiot to the ground, and spanking him with his own rifle. Her Pa always joked that despite being a lass, she was the son he always wanted, with the legs and shoulders fit for rugby. The bulk stayed with her throughout decades, helping her dissuade all suitors save for Jesus, and handle the ones that could not take the hint. It served her well as a disciplinarian at the school and the convent, and could serve her now, if not for the pesky assault rifle pointed at her. Still, she was the only thing standing between these men, and a gaggle of terrified novices crowded around the makeshift altar at the far end of their shabby chapel.

“Step aside, old randi kwass.” The man spat at her feet. “We just want to talk to the young ladies, get to know them better.” His companions chuckled. “We are all bachelors, looking for young brides to meet.”

“These young women are all married already. They are married to Jesus.”

The Mujahideen laughed, but there was no joy in the laugh, only malice.

“A fake marriage to the prophet of your fake religion means ghwal to us.” He tried to push her aside, but she grabbed the barrel of his rifle in an iron-vise grip.

“Ye should be ashamed. Storming this place, pointing yerr guns at us, and wishing tae rape young girls? This is not the way of your Prophet, and ye know this. Christian or Muslim, you know this is wrong.” She looked the man in the eyes, trying to browbeat him with her indignation and conviction, but she saw there was no moral fiber, no shred of piety in the man’s eyes. This supposed Warrior of Islam was not truly Muslim, only another human predator using faith as a disguise to hide his corrupted soul.

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“It is alright Mother Superior,” said her oldest charge, a girl barely twenty years old. “This is just our bodies they will violate, not our souls. We… we can do this.” The young sister looked around her small group. Most of the novices were quietly sobbing, and a few were shaking in fear, but all of them nodded solemnly.

Sister Mary Brigitte knew there was only one right choice in this situation, let the vile men have their way, so at least the girls would survive. Hopefully.

Her conviction lasted until one of the Mujahideen grabbed her youngest charge, a girl barely thirteen years old. The novice screamed and fainted, falling to her knees, to the man’s astonishment.

‘Please forgive me, Lord,’ Mary Brigitte muttered silently, and then spoke louder, in Latin,

“Sisters, on my mark, you will drop down and pray in prostrate form. I want your foreheads to touch the floor.”

“What? Why?” asked the eldest novice.

“Just bloody dae it, lass!” Mary Brigitte snarled in her native, rolling Scots English this time. “Now!”

The moment she saw the girls hit the ground, Mary Brigitte kneeled the man in front of her in the groin, and pulled the barrel of his rifle sideways, in a wide arc. As the injured man convulsively pulled the trigger, a stream of bullets burst out, scything every person still standing, which, Grace be to our Lord!, included only the invaders.

She pulled the last Mujahedeen to the ground, trying to wrestle the rifle out of his grasp. The weapon was out of bullets, and she felt, more than heard, the empty clicks of a spent clip.

She had him!

Unfortunately, the next thought Sister Mary Brigitte had was that, after all, the man was a soldier, likely to be armed with more than one weapon. The second thought was that being stabbed in the temple with a combat knife hurts surprisingly little. The third, idle thought of a failing mind was how funny it was that she was stabbed in the temple… while in a temple.