"Mr Reese, you seem to be bleeding." Finch's voice held notes of genuine worry. Reese peeled his torn shirt back and peered at the wound in the mirror. It was a bit of a mess. He decided not to answer.
"Is that a bite?" Reese tried to ignore the rising tone of worry, as he dabbed at the bite.
"Yes, it is. It seems that our number is not as helpless and clueless as her appearance suggests."
"She bit you?"
Reese took a deep breath, he really wasn't used to dealing with this level of concern about his personal health; but coupled with his encounter with their number, where he, and the bad guy came off considerably worse, he was feeling irritable and rather embarrassed.
Stacey Collins, blonde, spray tan, brassy clothing, stiletto heels, long, sharp false nails which she used to considerable effect. Reese had come upon her seconds after some lowlife in black was attempting to haul her into a waiting car.
Stacey Collins was a fighter, she didn't waste breath in screaming or ineffectual wriggling, she went for her attacker claws curled, scratching wherever she could reach, finally gaining enough purchase on the ground to drive her stiletto heel into the guy's foot, he howled, swore and let go.
Reese stepped up, intending to put himself between her and the man attempting to abduct her, but Stacey had taken his presence as another threat. He had successfully blocked her initial attempt to scratch him, wrapping his arms around her.
Big mistake. Huge. She wasn't about to calm down, or listen to what he had to say. She was intent on getting free and clear. The bite was painful enough, but he wasn't going to let go, then she drove her lethal stiletto down into his foot.
Reese had been beaten up, shot, even stabbed a couple of times, but nothing quite prepared him for the agony of a four and a half inch steel-tipped stiletto heel driven with malicious force and every ounce of strength and anger that a hundred pound woman could scare up straight down into his foot.
He let go.
She fled.
He had just enough of a glimpse of her disappearing back to tell him that Usain Bolt himself couldn't have caught her.
"Mr Reese."
Reese became aware that Finch was talking to him.
"Sorry." He sighed a little.
"It appears Miss Collins has no qualms about defending herself." Finch was perfectly straight-faced, although to Reese's suddenly over-sensitive hearing it sounded a little like a rebuke.
"I couldn't hold her." He admitted. "She was terrified, but she fought like a tigress."
"Her number is still up there. I've been attempting to track her movements, but Miss Collins has turned off her phone and is clearly hiding." Finch stared down at his phone as though seeking inspiration. "We need to find her."