circle. Then someone sold the man
out and he ended up being tortured and mutilated beyond recognition. If it
hadn't been for some extensive dental work, they still wouldn't be certain whom
the remains belonged to.
"I have him; all
units hold your position until I give the signal," Kat Dash replied, watching
Forest and two bodyguards make their way down the long, narrow alley toward her.
She almost laughed at the use of the word 'units', though in reality it was no
laughing matter. Of the original fourteen officers from diverse backgrounds and
specialties, less than half now remained. Ever since they began the pursuit of
Forest, their numbers had been dropping. Five members were killed at a drug lab
explosion, one in a shootout with some dirty cops, and the worst one of all had
taken place only last week when they lost a man to the worst fate of all:
Matrimony.
As Forest and his cohorts
continued toward her, Kat sensed she was not alone among the debris and
shadows. Someone was watching, though she didn't know from where. There was not
much cover, and she occupied one of the few places one could actually hide. The
alley was two parallel rows of decaying building rears, a cracked and rat-ridden
walkway littered with trash and refuse from years of indifference. It had an
ominous feel that seemed to keep the vagrants and alley cats at bay even in the
daylight. Tonight, however, was something even more special, for the wind
itself appeared to hold its breath in anticipation.
The three men were about
fifteen feet away when Kat made her move. Stepping away from her cover, she then
pulled her gun. Taking a stance that was anything but welcoming, she yelled
out, "Police. Stop where you are and place your hands on your head." She
knew the statement sounded corny, but it worked — or, at least, it was supposed
to. More than an attempt to halt their forward progression; it was supposed to
signal to the rest of the group to move in.
Now, standing there in
the dark silent obis, a feeling of complete abandonment slipped across her
senses. Forest began to chuckle, his deep voice sounding like the doom-filled
moan of a funeral procession. "Look, gentleman, it appears we've found us
a stray kitty." It was obvious that none of them were surprised to see
her.
"It appears you are
all alone, my little alley cat," he added with sarcasm that put her teeth
on edge, and had her fighting the urge to squeeze the trigger of her Glock and
shut him up.
"Where is my team?"
She ground the words out between clenched teeth, never dropping her aim at
Forest's head. If they planned to take her out, she sure as hell planned to
take him with her.
Movement to either side of
the three men caught her attention, and her heart skipped a beat, though she
managed to keep a stone-like exterior. It was quite a feat, since damn near every
member of her team now flanked their suspect with all their weapons pointed at
her. "I had thought to invite you to join my little army, but Tigrate
believes you would simply refuse."
James Tigrate spat on the
ground before shooting her a crooked grin. "Sorry, Kat, but money talks
and Forest knows how to do a lot of talking."
She regarded him and the
others for a long moment, attempting to determine what the best course of
action would be. Ultimately, all scenarios ended badly for her. The only change
was how much damage she did before they put her down.
"Where are Phillips
and Riley?" she asked her former comrades, though she feared she already
knew the answer.
"They didn't want to
be part of the team, so I slit their throats," Drake said with an air of
pride that made her sick to her stomach. She'd always hated the guy, but never
really had a reason until now. At least she would feel bad about killing him.
Tossing her weapon to the
side, Kat cracked her neck with a twist of her head before motioning with her
fingers for her former teammates to come forward. "All right, assholes,
let's see what you got." Smiling wickedly, she
out and he ended up being tortured and mutilated beyond recognition. If it
hadn't been for some extensive dental work, they still wouldn't be certain whom
the remains belonged to.
"I have him; all
units hold your position until I give the signal," Kat Dash replied, watching
Forest and two bodyguards make their way down the long, narrow alley toward her.
She almost laughed at the use of the word 'units', though in reality it was no
laughing matter. Of the original fourteen officers from diverse backgrounds and
specialties, less than half now remained. Ever since they began the pursuit of
Forest, their numbers had been dropping. Five members were killed at a drug lab
explosion, one in a shootout with some dirty cops, and the worst one of all had
taken place only last week when they lost a man to the worst fate of all:
Matrimony.
As Forest and his cohorts
continued toward her, Kat sensed she was not alone among the debris and
shadows. Someone was watching, though she didn't know from where. There was not
much cover, and she occupied one of the few places one could actually hide. The
alley was two parallel rows of decaying building rears, a cracked and rat-ridden
walkway littered with trash and refuse from years of indifference. It had an
ominous feel that seemed to keep the vagrants and alley cats at bay even in the
daylight. Tonight, however, was something even more special, for the wind
itself appeared to hold its breath in anticipation.
The three men were about
fifteen feet away when Kat made her move. Stepping away from her cover, she then
pulled her gun. Taking a stance that was anything but welcoming, she yelled
out, "Police. Stop where you are and place your hands on your head." She
knew the statement sounded corny, but it worked — or, at least, it was supposed
to. More than an attempt to halt their forward progression; it was supposed to
signal to the rest of the group to move in.
Now, standing there in
the dark silent obis, a feeling of complete abandonment slipped across her
senses. Forest began to chuckle, his deep voice sounding like the doom-filled
moan of a funeral procession. "Look, gentleman, it appears we've found us
a stray kitty." It was obvious that none of them were surprised to see
her.
"It appears you are
all alone, my little alley cat," he added with sarcasm that put her teeth
on edge, and had her fighting the urge to squeeze the trigger of her Glock and
shut him up.
"Where is my team?"
She ground the words out between clenched teeth, never dropping her aim at
Forest's head. If they planned to take her out, she sure as hell planned to
take him with her.
Movement to either side of
the three men caught her attention, and her heart skipped a beat, though she
managed to keep a stone-like exterior. It was quite a feat, since damn near every
member of her team now flanked their suspect with all their weapons pointed at
her. "I had thought to invite you to join my little army, but Tigrate
believes you would simply refuse."
James Tigrate spat on the
ground before shooting her a crooked grin. "Sorry, Kat, but money talks
and Forest knows how to do a lot of talking."
She regarded him and the
others for a long moment, attempting to determine what the best course of
action would be. Ultimately, all scenarios ended badly for her. The only change
was how much damage she did before they put her down.
"Where are Phillips
and Riley?" she asked her former comrades, though she feared she already
knew the answer.
"They didn't want to
be part of the team, so I slit their throats," Drake said with an air of
pride that made her sick to her stomach. She'd always hated the guy, but never
really had a reason until now. At least she would feel bad about killing him.
Tossing her weapon to the
side, Kat cracked her neck with a twist of her head before motioning with her
fingers for her former teammates to come forward. "All right, assholes,
let's see what you got." Smiling wickedly, she
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