DISCLAIMER: I don't own Night World.
A/N: I know I shouldn't be doing this but I can't…help it. I'm gonna delete some of my stories just 'cause I don't have any inspiration for it. At all. And maybe rewrite some of my stories… or just replace them. Hmm, I'll just replace them…eventually. But whatever, I'll write more down there. v.v Hope ya'll enjoy this! ;) Btw, this is all human. This is just a figment of my imagination too, just fyi. :)
The Cop and the Criminal
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Rashel Jordan pushed her gun back in her holster.
The shooting practice target was still standing, but it has a dozen of holes on it. Two holes on the head, two holes near the solar plexus, a few shots on the neck, and lots of holes by left shoulder. If it were a real crook, the target would've been dead a long time ago. The air inside the steel, gray walls of the shooting range was humid, even though it was sixty five degrees outside. Sweat formed on her forehead and on the back of her neck. Her breathing was deep as she stared at her worn-out practice target.
Training for more than two hours after trying to locate criminals were part of her distractions. Distractions from the death of her friend, Timmy. Sure it happened so many years ago, but Timmy . . . was like a younger brother she never had.
These were also part of her distractions from the death of her mother. Her mother, whom she loved dearly, was shot when she was just five years old. Rashel tried to forget about the blood and everything that happened that day by doing business and training. But she always ends up thinking about that day by the end of everything.
Mother, she thought as she squatted on the ground. Rashel sighed angrily. That monster killed her mother and Timmy. He ruined her life. That man, Hunter Redfern (she later found out as she began to work with the other FBI cops) . . . is one of the most wanted criminals in the world. He killed, stole, raped—he did mostly everything but lived an equal and fair life.
And then, along with the most wanted asshole, was his step-son; John Quinn.
This time, Rashel sighed in an annoyed manner.
John Quinn. She couldn't shake his well-sculpted face off of her mind. Dark hair slightly covering his dark eyes, nice cheekbones, pale skin, lean. He was sly, as implied in his most-wanted profile, and he was sharp.
Sly and sharp. Two characteristics that a criminal must have to be successful. Two characteristics that he has. Although Rashel had never had a face-to-face combat battle with him or Hunter, some of her fellow mates had.
Most of them never made it alive.
And this is why she trains every day. Not only to distract her, but to improve her reflexes and skills. Rashel knows that she's going to have a one-on-one with Hunter (and maybe John) someday. She'll make it happen. Rashel will chase him around the whole damn world just to avenge her mother's and Timmy's untimely death. It was the least she could do for her mother and Timmy.
Rashel sighed again. She pushed herself up from the floor and jogged to her bag—which was by the wall. Her uniform and ID were in her bag, so were her water bottles, phone, and extra ammos. Rashel grabbed her small face towel and wiped the sweat off her face.
"Knock, knock," a voice said from the entrance of the shooting range.
Rashel already knew who the voice was. It was Elliot—one of her friends, and also one of the highest ranked FBI cops. "What's up, Elliot?"
"Just chilling. Although I think you should rest now for tomorrow," he answered. Elliot was a few years older than her, and thin, with intense eyes and little shiny glasses that were always slipping off his nose. Though he looks like a geek, Rashel had seen him handle more than one crook as she rescued some victims two years back.
She simply rolled her green eyes. "Can't. I might as well train for the rest of the night. Tomorrow's probably gonna be the day, you know."
Elliot knew what she meant.
Rashel meant that tomorrow might be the day when she finally catches Hunter Redfern. "By the way," Elliot spoke as she fixed her things, the thought of catching some dinner entering her mind, "I think we may have a lead as to where he-who-shall-not-be-named is."
"Oh? Please enlighten me," she replied as she slung her bag over her shoulder.
Elliot began walking with Rashel out of the training room. "There's been some activity up in New York. The local officers investigated about it but couldn't figure it out. They contacted us and blah, blah, blah. But guess what we found."
She continued to look straight ahead, even though her heart was practically pounding in her ears. "What?"
"Hunter's hair fibers on the woman's clothes," Elliot answered. "It was a challenging investigation—but with Hunter, it's always challenging."
"I'm going to kill him soon," she muttered angrily. That bastard killed another woman? Honestly, that man does not have a damn heart. They climbed up the stairs, their feet lightly hitting the hard steps.
"You're not the only one who wants him dead, girl," Elliot chuckled, shaking his head. "I want him dead, too. Let's share the victory when we find that fucker."
"Sure, whatever," Rashel murmured. As long as she gets to kill Hunter, then she's fine. It'll help her body sleep well at night.
"Oh and—" Ring, ring, ring! Elliot held up his forefinger and excused himself from Rashel, pulling out his phone from his pocket. "Yeah?" He muttered something incoherent. Rashel stopped and waited for Elliot, also wanting to know about the phone call. It was his work phone that went off, so this is (most likely than not) a business matter.
"Right, I'll be there." He snapped his phone shut. Elliot turned to Rashel with a sigh. "Sorry, I gotta go—"
"I want to come. Take me with you," Rashel interrupted as they briskly walked out of the building.
Elliot shrugged and inclined his head to the parking lot. "Hop in. We'll come back for your car later."
She nodded. "And tell me what the phone call was about," Rashel added, racing to his car—one of the only cars in the parking lot. She slipped in the nearly dark tinted car, the dark gray leather seat feeling cold and leathery under her skin. Damn, she was in her exercising-attire and she was going to a business-related thing. Double damn.
Elliot closed his door and put the key in ignition. "Alright, well, our boss said to check out this warehouse area near the hotel-casino-resort. Said something about some possible illegal activity there."
"Hunter? I mean, New York is just two-and-a-half hours away. It's probably Hunter." Oh she hoped it was Hunter.
He shrugged again. "Hunter wouldn't be that stupid, I'll give him that. But then again, maybe his age is finally getting to him."
"Either way, I hope its Hunter," Rashel muttered.
The rest of their ride was spent in anxious silence, the lights of the busy city blurring as they sped through the streets. Five minutes later, after running a few red lights, Elliot parked his car by the hotel-casino parking garage. Rashel pulled out a jacket so that she can hide her gun. She grabbed her extra ammos and handed some to Elliot.
"Always be prepared, Elliot," Rashel chastised with a smirk. She elegantly leaped out of the car. Elliot smirked back and led the way. Rashel followed closely behind, their feet barely making any sounds as they trudged down the empty parking garage.
They encountered some people along the way, but no one who are too dangerous.
"Are the others supposed to be here?"
"Only Vicky, I think," Elliot murmured, his hand poised over the gun hidden underneath his jacket.
Of course, Rashel thought. She's not really fond of Vicky—but no one can choose who they work with, can they?
Just as they were about to round the corner, someone jumped on Elliot and poised a gun by his head and—
"Vicky, stop it!" Elliot hissed. Vicky's arm was tightly wrapped around Elliot's throat, her legs wrapped around his body so that he couldn't move.
"Shit, sorry," Vicky muttered. Her brunette hair was pulled back in a high, tight ponytail—just like Rashel's. Her blue eyes appeared perplexed and wary. She quickly let go of Elliot and jumped down on the ground. "Sorry. Sorry. I was too anxious . . ."
You were; was what Rashel wanted to say—but she didn't want to start an unnecessary fight with Vicky . . . no matter how much she wants to. Elliot brushed the incident off and then, as a group, they all began walking stealthily towards the big warehouse.
And then three forms suddenly leaped at them just as they were about to enter the dark and bare storehouse.
Rashel was in a tight choke hold, and so was Elliot. Vicky, on the other hand, was being dragged around as her small frame tried to fight the massive weight off. Rashel couldn't breathe. She dropped her jacket and scratched at the man's arms.
"Stop that," the guy's deep voice hissed in her ear. He probably saw her gun since he found the nerve to chuckle and pull it out from her holster.
Somehow, for an odd reason, a little shiver went down her spine because the guy's voice was so deep. "Let go of me," she hissed back, stomping on his foot. When her attack actually loosened his grip around her throat, she sent him a hard blow on his celiac plexus. The man instinctively dropped his arms from the head lock he was maintaining around her throat.
"Don't move," he commanded just as Rashel pivoted on her heel. He was pointing the gun at her.
Despite the situation, Rashel laughed. "It's nice to finally meet you, John Quinn."
His dark eyes hardened. "It's Quinn." He teasingly put pressure on the trigger and then let the pressure go, and so on. Rashel couldn't take her eyes off of him. He seemed to be playing around with her. And she just doesn't like it at all.
"What are you waiting for?" Rashel asked, her green eyes narrowing. She couldn't keep track of what's happening around them. She couldn't tell if Elliot and Vicky were fighting off the other bastards because John is just . . . there. Pointing a gun at her.
He didn't reply but, soon enough, she heard a pistol going off.
A/N: Ohmigosh, ohmigosh, ohmigosh. How was it? Te gusta or no te gusta? Please tell me in a review:) Anyways, I'm just gonna go delete some stories in the [very] near future…or rewrite some stories. But yeah, this plot that I developed totally differed from the original plot I planned. Because…well, I don't wanna give out any spoilers. XD But the original plot was for JezxMorgy, but then I thought that it would fit RashelxQuinn too, but when I tried out the original plot on these two, I was TOTALLY wrong. So I had to tweak some parts and histories of L.J. Smith's characters and used their story as a guide to make mine… and yuuup.
Thank you guys for viewing/reviewing/subscribing/faving/whatever-ing this story :D Totally appreciate it ;)
Review? :3