The Attack

Sabrina arrived home at about ten o'clock sharp, yawning and stretching out her weary muscles. It had been a long, intense case, and she, Kelly, Jill, and Bosley were all wiped out and had decided to head straight home to their comfortable beds where a deep, restful sleep was sure to come upon them.

Well, almost all of them, anyway.

Bri sighed as she got into the steamy bath water awaiting her, and began to hum the Polinade softly. She smiled to herself as the memories from the case came flooding back to her. Meeting her very own Polish hero, at the time it had all seemed so…. unreal. Yet there they were, drinking plum brandy as his political sharks of friends backstabbed him, and as she raced against the clock to save both his life and the free will of his country. The man had become like a second father to her. She loved him with a passion, not the love that she used to have with Bill, her ex-husband, but a love that she would share with a life-long friend. What a man he was.

Sabrina was suddenly startled out of her reverie by the sound of breaking glass. As calmly as possible, she stepped out of her bath and slipped into a soft cotton robe. She silently grabbed her gun from out of her purse and, ever so slightly, not to startle the intruder, turned the knob of the bathroom door and gave it a slight push. The door slowly creaked open, and Bri muttered a couple of Spanish curses under her breath, kicking herself internally for not remembering to grease the hinges when she had come home. Gathering up her courage, she peeked out into the hallway. When she had decided that the coast was clear, she set out into the hallway, gripping her revolver tightly with both hands, prepared for anything. Something jumps out of the shadows, you shoot it, Bri. No hesitations. No waiting. You're trained for this, all the way back to the first days of the police academy, and even further back when daddy first taught you. When you are in danger, unless instructed otherwise from a person of higher rank, you will not hesitate to defend yourself and then get the hell out of there. No matter what happens.

She advanced into the living room.

And her heart almost stopped.

There, in the middle of the living room, was a young man, probably early into his twenties. He stood, unmoving, unflinching. Sabrina wasn't even sure that he was breathing, he was so still.

It happened very fast.

The man turned around and, before Bri even had the time to pull the trigger, she suddenly felt herself hit the wall with such force that the breath was knocked out of her. She decided to shoot him, but gasped when she realized that the gun was no longer in her hands. The man smiled, and Sabrina could see his perfect white teeth flash out in contrast to the darkness of the room. He lunged for her again, this time knocking her arm violently against the wall and punching her ribs multiple times. Bri gasped and coughed, almost choking on her own blood. The man was now standing back, admiring the damage that he had done to her.

Sabrina's head was pounding, and she couldn't see straight. She grabbed the wall with her good arm for support, and threw herself at him, attempting to catch him off balance so that she could grab her gun and end the struggle.

Easier said than done, when you can't even see and your blood is all over the carpet.

Sabrina managed to get a few good punches in, before the man threw her off, apparently deciding that enough was enough. Bri landed with a hard thud on the front door, almost knocking it down. Blood trickled into her eyes, making it continuously harder to stay alert. Her vision was blurry. She felt herself slipping away, and she slid down the door, exhaling slowly.

You weakling. Stand up.

She moaned and closed her eyes, wishing the military, hardcore part of her away. It wouldn't give up, though.

I said STAND UP! You WILL NOT give in. You will TAKE that bastard with you. You will FIGHT.

She groaned, but managed to pull herself up, and, to the surprise of the man, stood up completely straight, a bloody shadow against the dark of the room.

Her attacker was shocked, but managed to compose himself. He grinned and looked at her still form, thinking that a good swift kick to the ribs would get the job done.

He never got the chance.

Sabrina lunged at him, bowling him over like he was a pin in the alley. He landed on his back, the breath knocked out of him.

Good, Bri. I see you've picked yourself up. We have to finish this.

She launched herself on him and pummeled him.

Knuckles breaking, doesn't matter, keep going, you're winning, you're winning, you're winning…

It seemed, however, that she was not winning. Her attacker let out a roar and threw Sabrina off. She crashed into the table, breaking it. The pain was overwhelming. The military part of her was gone, crushed beneath the weight and the gravity of the situation.

The only thing she could hope for now was a fast, painless death. The man picked up her revolver and examined it carefully. He smiled that perfect, white-toothed smile, and opened his mouth to speak. And even though Sabrina was nearly blind, in pain, and probably too far gone to hear anything, she understood what he said. It came as a relief.

"The end."

And with those parting words, he raised the gun to her chest, flashing his beautiful white teeth for the very last time.

BLAM! BLAM! BLAM!