Chapter 4 - Now & Then

Boris isn't very forthcoming at first, but once I've hauled him to a nearby rooftop and instigated some interrogation techniques that would lead me to see if he can act like a bird he starts to sing like one.

Turns out my guess was right. Dmitri is a mid-level Bratva Boevik who wants to be made captain. He had been stymied in his own city, bad blood between old members or something and unfair grudges being held…Boris is now getting altogether too chatty with details I don't give a shit about so I give him some incentive to cut to the chase.

"Sorry! Sorry!" he screams. "Please stop hitting me! We leave Miami and come here when he receive word through discreet channels that head of D'Amico family is having problems…his hold is loosening, and heroes are now all but dead." He looks at me with something like apology in his eyes at the last bit.

Now this is interesting. "Discreet channels? What are they?"

Boris raises his hands to his face, starting to shake again. "I don't know! I don't know! I only heard him mention to Sasha that he would see if shark bait was good for anything and that they had a plan for mobilising to New York. Lots of guns! Warehouse locations. Contacts in the local branch that could use the help. He laughed a lot, but I had no idea what he meant. That's all I know!"

I'm puzzled at that. What a weird thing to say. Shark bait? Did he mean they were going to throw chum into the water in New York and see what…then my line of thought jumps to something else and my eyes go wide. Shit! It can't be that, can it?

I grip Boris by the lapels and haul him towards my face.

"Listen to me scumbag! You are going to tell me *every word* you heard in that conversation and tell me where Dmitri is *right now* or we really are going to see if you can fly!"

Just to prove my point I grab him by the scruff of the neck and start dragging him towards the building's edge. It's music to my ears when he starts screaming and the words start spilling like puke out of a frat pledge's lips on rush week. Sometimes I love my job.

After making a discreet call to the cops and leaving Boris zip-tied to a telephone pole I scout out Dmitri's apparent location. According to Boris he's holed up in another warehouse, but this one is some distance from the one Hit-Girl blew up the other night. I imagine he wants to keep a low profile until he can figure out what happened and decide what move he should make.

I imagine he's shitting himself by now. It doesn't sound like he has too many more resources that he can pull into this…Boris thinks he blew his entire nest egg on the guns. It also sounds like he didn't exactly have the blessing of his superiors when he came to New York. He was counting on a quick and effective strike to establish himself so that his own superiors (not to mention the local branch of the Bratva) wouldn't be able to complain and would almost have to award him the promotion he wanted.

Of course now that he had fucked it all up, or more precisely since Hit-Girl had fucked it all up for him, he was caught between a rock and a hard place. Ralph D'Amico now had precise knowledge about someone trying to horn in on his action and the Bratva had to either silence Dmitri before he was found or offer him up with apologies if they didn't want to start an all-out gang war. He had his friends *and* his enemies out for his blood. It was surprising that he even had any more of his own men still backing him.

By all appearances, therefore, Dmitri isn't all that bright and he's also running scared, both of those things should give me an advantage…of course they also mean that he might act erratically which isn't always the best thing.

I can't stop my mind from going back to Boris' mention of 'shark bait' and the tip-off to Dmitri of opportunities in New York. If it means what I'm now almost certain it means then there's one more fucking huge problem back that I thought was out of my life for good. It also might explain why Mindy came back gunning for blood when these clowns might have actually been a thorn in D'Amico's side…assuming of course that she's been holed up in Miami all this time and that it was these guys in particular that brought her back. All the pieces fit, so I have to assume that's the case. Well, at least it might mean that this fucking bunch of clowns can get me some kind of lead on where she is…whether directly or indirectly. Silver linings and all that, right?

I've been scoping out the warehouse for about an hour and haven't seen any appreciable movement. I've seen the two guards that are doing a circuit of the grounds, but getting past them shouldn't be too difficult…Dmitri's resources are obviously spread pretty thin. There are a couple of security cameras too, but they also seem pretty simple to evade.

I look at my watch. It's getting late…or early. If I'm going to do anything tonight I better do it now. I can't wait anymore for the chance that Hit-Girl might show up. I'll just have to go in guns blazing and hope that I can pull out some intel before everything goes utterly to shit.

I check my equipment one last time and then descend from my perch to infiltrate the building. It turns out that evading both the guards and cameras in my vicinity are as easy as I'd hoped. I press myself against the wall to quickly scan the area before clambering up to the mid-sized ledge above me that circles the perimeter of the wall and leads to the windows.

I crouch in front of the nearest window, waiting for the guard below me to continue on in his circuit. I smile as I ease myself up to the window to peek inside and get an idea of what I'm dealing with. My smile freezes on my face when I see what's going on in there and my blood goes cold.

At first I can't even quite parse what I'm seeing, it looks so impossible. Several agonizing seconds drag on while I try to get my brain to confirm what I'm seeing. I shake my head, unable to deny what my senses are telling me: Hit-Girl is strapped to a chair in the middle of the large warehouse floor having the unholy shit beaten out of her by a goon with a lead pipe.

I swear that my mind goes blank and all I can see is red.

She's never felt this much pain in her body before, and this is a girl who knows from pain. You could say that pain was her mother's milk, but she's never been quite this helpless. How the hell did she let herself get into this situation? How could she have been so stupid? One minute she's blowing these Russian fuck-wads to Kingdom Come the next she gets nabbed on a simple infiltration to get the final answers she needs.

It's not her fault though. Her mind was totally on the game until *he* had to go and show up. She thought she'd be able to keep away until these pissants had been dealt with and then she could just slip back into oblivion. Of course her old partner had to go and fuck that up by blundering across her and almost getting himself killed…again. So of course she had to show herself to save his sorry ass and now she'd been compromised. Fuck!

White hot pain arches up her leg as the fucktard with the pipe bashes on her again. "What, bitch?! No smart come-backs now?! We are going to fuck you up good…then we'll just fuck you for good measure!"

She rolls her head until she's looking into his eyes. She knows that he won't see any fear there and that disconcerts him. She smiles at his discomfort. "Whatever fuck-wad. All I know is that no matter who catches you first, whether it's D'Amico or your own fucking people, you are going to be fucked so hard in the ass that cum's gonna spew out of your goddam throat!"

He raises his pipe again, but she doesn't flinch.

"Wait!" yells a voice from behind and the lead dip-shit, Dmitri, walks towards them. "What you say may be true," he admits, "and you obviously have a high threshold for pain, but that only means we will enjoy this longer. Whatever happens to us I guarantee you that we will have the last laugh as far as you are concerned."

She knows that he's right, but she won't give him the satisfaction of letting him know that so she just glowers at him. Glancing away from his face she looks over towards the far wall and can't help herself from breaking into a grin at what she sees. She makes sure to immediately look away from the area and back at Dmitri's face. He narrows his eyes at the slow grin that he sees spreading across her features.

"Don't be too sure of that fucker," she grits through her blood-spattered teeth.

He looks mildly confused, but is obviously willing to chalk it up to bravado. He would expect no less of the infamous Hit-Girl after all. He leans down towards her face. "Oh I am quite sure. I feel the punch line coming on."

She spits blood into his face and actually starts to laugh. "Oh man! You aren't even trying to be funny, but I couldn't have said it better myself. Heh…here comes the punchline fucker!"

Anger flashes across his face, but he holds himself back and simply stands, pulling a handkerchief from his pocket to wipe his face. "Nikolai, please continue…but do try to avoid any serious injuries. We want this to last after all."

Suddenly a gunshot rings out and Nikolai drops the pipe, his body swaying for a few seconds as the blood trickles down his forehead from the exit wound before it crumples to the floor. The lights in the warehouse go out and a voice screams out, "You fuckers are all dead!"

I feel the rage seething in my veins and I can barely control myself as I pop the window and drop down to the floor. Something in the back of my mind says I have to do this right though, I can't just rush in as much as it's killing me to see Mindy being beaten to a pulp.

Luckily everyone's attention is focused on the girl they have strapped to the chair. She's talking to some big Russian in a suit, the guy with the lead pipe standing off to the side. No one seems to be too worried about visitors. I guess they figure they have time before their number comes up. I'm going to be fucking pleased to prove them wrong.

I make my way to the junction box and on my way I grab a gun they had left lying on a table. I check the magazine to confirm that it's loaded. Man, these fuckers are just a bright bunch aren't they?

I position my night vision goggles on top of my head and then pull one of my batons from its sheath before drawing a bead on the asshole with the pipe. I don't generally like using guns, but I can make exceptions and this is one time I'm more than fucking happy to. Luckily I haven't skimped on target practice since I had to do my training by myself. I want them to see this one before it all goes to hell and I savour the sensation as my finger slowly squeezes on the trigger.

The guy with the pipe is going to be one of the lucky ones…he doesn't even feel it when the bullet rips through the back of his skull and exits his frontal lobe. I smash the junction box with my baton and pull down the goggles as the lights go out. "You fuckers are all dead!" I scream as I move towards the knot of gangsters milling around my girl.

I fire into the crowd of them, making sure my shots are all placed higher than the figure prone in the chair. Five of them drop and aren't getting up again. I still have bullets in the cartridge, but this is fucking personal and I have no plan to let them all go down so easy.

Wading into the middle of a bunch of gangsters sounds like a frightening proposition and normally I'd have to admit that part of me would be shitting myself, but I'm so enraged at what they're doing that I don't have any room left in my brain for anything but hate. Pulling out my second baton I start smashing faces left and right, easily side-stepping their blind swings.

One of them gets in a stray hit, knocking my head to the side. I just grab his arm, twist it and then fracture his bone near the elbow. His scream is like sweet music to my ears and I duck just as one of his buddies spins around and fires his gun…right into the face of his compatriot who had the same idea and who drops him with a bullet at the same time. If I was thinking straight I'd probably laugh at how cool it looks when they both crumple to the ground, as it is I just want to cause more pain to the fuckers.

I hear commotion near one of the doors…must be the guards coming in to see what the hell is going on. I make my way behind a pillar as the knot in the middle of the room is considerably thinned out and they are all screaming for lights. Some of them are even blind firing where they think I might be until screams and wild curses tell them to stop fucking shooting in the dark.

One of the guards turns on a flashlight and as the beam cuts through the darkness I drop him with a shot to the head. The flashlight drops to the floor, spinning in an arc before it stops pointed directly at the second guard as he comes in through the same doorway the first one used. He goes down with three shots to the head and sternum. I drop to a crouch as my gun clicks out of ammo. Rolling away from the pillar I sprint towards a goon stupid enough to move towards where the gunfire came from. I throw the gun at his head and then follow with a flying kick that drops him to the ground.

By now things have gone quiet and there is only one man left. As luck would have it it's Dmitri. I can see through the goggles that he's spinning around wildly, aiming his gun at any noise that breaks the silence. I creep up on him, my jaw clenching in anger.

"Alexei? Grigory? Misha?"

"They're all dead!" I rasp and as he spins towards me I easily knock his gun hand aside and smash my palm into his face. I break his nose, but I make sure it isn't a killing blow. His gun drops from nerveless fingers and I grab him by the neck, unwilling to let him hit the ground.

I squeeze his larynx as I pull him back up. The gurgle in his throat makes me grin.

"You were doing some very bad things, Dmitri."

His eyes are wide and I look down as I hear the piss escaping from his bladder and puddling on the floor.

"You wanted to be a Bratva captain?" I ask incredulously. "What a fucking pussy!"

Dmitri seems like he's beyond speech, but I need to know one more thing before I take care of more important things. "Tell me about shark bait," I growl, putting my face mere inches from his.

He seems confused, though whether it's from his fear and pain or the apparent non sequitur I don't know. I shake him for good measure and his eyes clear up a little.

"Shark…shark bait…" comprehension dawns in his eyes. "You'll…you'll let me live, right? You'll take me to the police? If I tell you?"

"Of course," I murmur, trying to swallow my rage at this man and what he was doing. "Tell me what I want to know and you live."

He nods his head enthusiastically. "Right, right…it was D'Amico…the young one…the psychotic costume-wearing freak…" he stops, then looks at me as though he's worried I'm going to take offense at this after all he's already said and done. I just nod at him to continue.

"He's alive. His uncle…he kept him alive, but he's being…punished…for what he did. He wants to…clear the slate. He told me…told me where his uncle was weak and where he wasn't keeping a close eye on things."

"Where is he?!" I yell.

Dmitri's eyes go wide. "I don't know! I don't know where he is! I…I didn't care!"

"Too bad for you I do," I grit from between my teeth.

"It's true! I swear!"

"Oh I believe you," I say. "Good bye, Dmitri."

He looks around in confusion as I wrap my arms around his neck.

"No! No! You promised you said…"

"You didn't tell me what I wanted to know," I state before snapping his neck. I let his body drop to the ground and close my eyes for a moment before I raise my head and look over to where Mindy is still sitting, everything else forgotten when I see her battered and bruised body.

I run up to her and can't help myself from caressing her face, looking closely at the bruises and blood that I see there. She shivers slightly at my touch and I can't tell if it's because of her wounds or something else.

"Shit, are you ok?"

"Always with the stupid questions Kick-Ass? The fuck does it look like?!" she growls. I look into her eyes and I'm a bit confused at the anger I see there…then again she was just taking a world class beating before I managed to intervene.

"Yeah, right…sorry. Here let me help you." I proceed to free her hands from their bonds and quickly move down to her legs.

I offer up a tentative smile as I undo the last restraint. "I know it's not under the best circumstances, but I'm really glad to see you again."

Hit-Girl just rolls her eyes. "Yeah, yeah, you gonna start crying now or something? Please spare me the hysterics. I don't need a whiny bitch show right now, ok?"

I'm a bit deflated, but I nod, "Yeah sure, no problem Hit-Girl."

She stands up from the chair with a wobble and rubs at her raw wrists. Her other injuries seem pretty serious, but when I reach my hand out to help her she steps back and glares at me like she doesn't need any help. Typical Hit-Girl.

"So," I say, drawing it out as I try to pretend I'm not anxious about the answer, "when did you get back to New York?"

"I dunno I've been here for a while," she says with a shrug.

I look at her closely, trying to see what's going on behind her eyes, but she won't let me look at her face.

"A while? What do you mean 'a while'? How long have you…?"

She shrugs again, "A couple months."

My eyes bug out and my pulse immediately spikes. Despite her condition I can't help but feel enraged and I let it out in the tone of my voice.

"A couple months?! Mindy…fuck! Do you have any idea…?" I clench my fists and can't even finish my sentence.

Her eyes narrow and she shoots a glance around the room at the use of her name, but at this point there's no one there that can overhear and quite frankly I don't give a shit anymore. She's been in the god damned city for two months and didn't even bother to contact me? She's been making me think I was seeing ghosts or going crazy and wasn't in any particular hurry to even let me know she was alive, let alone living in the same city as me?! What the actual fuck?!

"Shit *Dave*," she hisses making a point of using my name, "don't get your panties in a twist, what's the big deal?"

I splutter for a minute before I can manage to choke out, "Am I actually hearing this?! What's the big deal?! Who the fuck do you think you are?!"

"I'm Hit-Girl!" she growls.

All I can do is grimace and shake my head.

"Are you…are you fucking with me or something? 'You're Hit-Girl'! That's all you have to say?"

She looks at me for a beat before she simply says, "Yup," popping the p-sound off of her lips exaggeratedly.

At this point my mind just goes blank. I can't even process what's happening here. It's as though everything that I thought made up my reality has just crumbled into ruins. I think maybe it has. I think I actually zone out into some kind of fugue for a minute because by the time I'm aware of what's going on again Mindy is no longer standing in front of me. I see her limping towards the warehouse door.

"Wait a god damned minute!" I shout and I'm a bit surprised when she actually stops.

She doesn't turn around, but I don't care. I start walking towards her, my voice getting louder with each word.

"I just saved your fucking life! After waiting two god damned years to see you! You fucking blow out of town telling me to be a fucking hero, drop off the radar, don't even send a postcard to say you're alive and then you come back to town and can't be fucking bothered to even tell me you're fucking here?! FUCK!"

I literally scream the last word from only a few feet away from her and she actually jumps a bit. Part of me is glad at that.

"Do you have any idea what I've been going through?! Do you know what I've been feeling for two god damned years…alone…realizing the girl I'd fallen in love with might be dead in a fucking ditch, and if she wasn't she apparently didn't care enough to even tell me she was alive?! Do you know how hard I tried to find you?! Do you know all the fucking scenarios I ran through my head wondering where the hell you could be?!"

Mindy's shoulders sag for a moment, but it's only a moment, then she squares them again. She looks over her shoulder and narrows her eyes at me.

"Life's been tough all around Kick-Ass. You're not the only one with issues."

I clench my fists. Issues? Did she really just say that? She's got issues does she? I shake my head, the anger and bile rising in my throat until I think it's going to strangle me. Out of all of the scenarios for our reunion that I dreamed about - every god damned day I might add - for the past two years this one sure never came up. I'm utterly at a loss, so of course I fuck it all up.

"I knew you were a lot of things Mindy," I growl, my voice getting dangerously low, "but I didn't know you were a heartless cunt!" The minute the words leave my mouth I'm sorry, but I'm still so angry I can't find the words to apologize or even try and take them back.

She nods. "Well, at least now you know."

With that she starts shuffling towards the door again. Part of me wants to help her, to put my arm around her shoulder, to lift her up and carry her away. I desperately want to make this all right again, to make sure everything's okay despite what I just heard. Despite what I just said.

But instead I'm shaking and all I can do is stand and watch, until I suddenly feel dizzy and drop to my ass in a sitting position on the floor. By the time I look up again she's gone.