XIX: She's Lost Control

The afternoon heat kissed the back of Officer Shoat's neck.

He tried to rub the sleep from his eyes that were straining against the sunlight while sitting in his squad car in an empty parking lot. It was uncommon for him to be awake and on the clock this early. His work shifts tended to start in the evening, so he effectively lost three to four hours of sleep by getting up now. However, it was apparently important that he was conscious now. A directive to his scroll had told him so.

A new development had occurred that morning in a case he was involved with. He had been pinged with urgent requests from his home precinct. Dispatch needed him downtown as soon as possible and would not take any variation on 'no' or 'gods no' for an answer. The information in the order was scant. All he got was a lousy address.

Without any more information to work from, he got up and dressed. His wife, a doctor who also worked night shifts, was unimpressed with the noise he was generating. She retaliated by throwing several pillows at him as he got ready to begin the day. Shoat was just glad she did not have anything heavier to toss at him. After drinking three cups of coffee, he hopped in his patroller and made his way over.

Staring at the building he parked in front of with a buzzing head did not bring confidence in what he was doing. He took a few seconds to collect his thoughts and scope the place out. It was a bustling crime scene. The sidewalk to the law offices of Dewey, Cheatem & Howe was blocked off with red cones and Caution tape. Crime scene vans were parked in the street in front of the building.

Outside the practice stood another officer in full dark blue regalia near the glass doors of the building. Everything about the scene screamed for people to avoid it, so of course it attracted a small and bustling crowd. They were a collection of what his nan would have referred to as 'a bunch of looky-loos.' The private citizens pushed at the boundaries of the taped off area. Shoat could see his fellow officer tell off a few of them but he was not able to leave his post.

Stepping out of the car and up to the scene, Shoat politely edged his way through the crowd. A few members of the public looked like they wanted to complain but backed off when they saw the badge. Ducking under the yellow tape, he stepped over to the relieved looking officer. There was also a spark of recognition in the face of the other man.

"Hey Ernie. What are you doing down here? Going to take over for me?" Asked the hopeful officer. Shoat knew him from around the breakroom at the station, but the name escaped him. He was still waiting for the caffeine to kick in and give his brain a jolt. It was always awkward when someone remembered meeting Shoat, but he did not recognize them. What was worse was when it happened at work.

"Sorry, pal. That's not my bag." He sidestepped the name problem by moving on to something else. "I have business upstairs. Any idea what happened? They would not give me any details."

"No clue. I was told to stand here, look pretty, and hold the line." He took a second to yell at a teenager who was trying to push one of the cones over to get closer before continuing. "I have to keep these folks away while the lab techs work their magic. Other than that, they told me nothing."

Shoat sighed and wished the other officer well before entering the building. It was a posh office lobby that he found inside. Marble columns and an old oak desk in the center dominated the inside space. The police officer could imagine that the place would usually be hustling and bustling with rich clients on a normal day. This day was far from the ordinary. Instead of businessmen in expensive suits, it was filled with people in white jumpsuits and blue gloves. Asking for directions from the nearest techie, he was told to go to the third floor. There was a corner office up there that would have his answers.

As he climbed the stairs and walked the distance to the investigated area, tile gave way to a more conservative crimson carpeting. It was not as ornate as the lobby, but still more expensive than anything in his apartment. Everything smelled of shampoo. Several of the doors had bronze plaques that read with the name of the one who occupied them. The plaque of the office he was looking for was different. It was golden and had printed on it the words Sawyer Howe.

Shoat understood why he was needed now. He thought he recognized the name of the law office, but his sleep deprived mind could not place it. One of the men he arrested a few nights ago had that name. He was the same Howe as the one who owned this office.

The question was, what had that loquacious snake-oil salesman gotten himself involved with now? It must have been serious to get this many police personnel interested. He found the answer to that question on the other side of the sliding door.

The Officer's eyes were first brought to the large stain that covered the wall. It was an ugly blotted shape with the same coloring as the carpeting. Flecks of white and pink were mixed into the liquid. There was a black flash burn from a discharged weapon in the center of the shape. Slumped at the desk inside, and attended to by two men from forensics, was the late Mr. Howe. The right side of his face looked like hamburger meat and he was missing the top part of his skull. Shoat had to steady himself to make sure he did not lose his lunch.

"You okay there?" Asked the only other law enforcement officer in the room. A rank detective based on the tan suit he wore. His thick red hair and mustache almost blended in with the carpeting and blood spray on the wall.

"Yeah. Sorry. I was not given any warning about what was up here, so I had no time to prepare."

Not that there really was anything you could do to prepare for something like this. He heard most people just learned to ignore the rising bile in their mouth. The technicians did not seem to have any problems with it, even as some of the red was transferred to their plastic uniforms. There was a reason Shoat preferred performing community outreach and night beats to death investigations.

"Miller." The detective introduced himself while holding out an open hand to shake. "What brings you out here?"

"Ernie Shoat. Your dead man is either a material witness or a co-conspirator in a robbery that I am working on." He said as he clasped the hand and answered the question. "Or was a witness, at any rate."

"Ah. That explains the ankle monitor we found on him." Miller nodded in understanding. "I knew someone was going to call it in but was not told when that would happen. Strange. I figured it would be a probation officer who would show up. What kind of robbery did our mutual acquaintance get up to?"

"Mr. Howe was arrested near a bunch of stolen Atlas military tech."

"No way. This guy was involved in the depot raid?" When Shoat confirmed it, the detective shook his head in amazement. "Hard to imagine a white-collar guy like this one getting involved in that sort of thing. If he were to commit a crime, I would have fingered him for something like tax evasion or money laundering."

"We weren't entirely clear on his role, but he had something to do with it. The armament had not been missing for a long enough time to have ended up with him by accident."

"Wow. I guess the criminal mind comes in all shapes and sizes, huh?"

"It sure looks that way." There was something rotten about the lawyer, but Shoat was not sure what. Was he a power broker? Did he set the deal up? He did not believe the man participated directly in the theft or murder of the security guard. There really was no way of knowing now. "You're next to share. What do we have going on here?"

"From the looks of it, a pretty standard suicide scene. Blew his mind out all over the walls." Miller indicated the grisly room they stood in. The detective winced when a technician pulled the lawyer up to check under him and more gore gushed out onto the desk. "I would not want to be the one who has to clean that up. Anyway, a secretary found him. The whole office is on holiday. He came back up here to grab something and found the door wide open. The poor guy is now breathing in and out of a brown paper bag downtown."

"Any note or other indication of his plans?" Shoat wondered aloud. Miller answered.

"No. But that's not uncommon. He did not have any family as far as we could tell. Any type of stressor could have sent him over the edge. Based on what you told me, this lawyer was not in danger of lacking in the stress department."

It did seem simple to Shoat as he nodded along. The type of job Sawyer Howe had, plus a recent arrest, could have created the right atmosphere for him to want to end it all. One thing that stuck in the beat cop's craw was what the lawyer had been claiming after his arrest. While taking him in, Mr. Howe had been railing against the arrest and confident that he could get out of it. He indicated during his interrogation that he knew more about the robbery but was only going to give it up for full immunity. No one was biting yet, but Mr. Howe could have waited them out. He was certainly capable, having talked his way into bail on an accessory to murder charge while his supposed accomplices languished in jail.

That could have all been bravado, though. Once the reality of the situation sunk in, he could have determined it was over for him. Any conviction, even a small jail sentence and fine, would have ended his professional career. There were likely not many job opportunities available for a disbarred lawyer. He may have been too old to figure something else out. No kids to take care of him and, if his opulent office was any indication, no savings to fall back on. Maybe the high-priced lawyer did not see a way out of it except with a bullet.

Getting closer to the diorama of violence, Shoat's eyes scanned the carnage. It was even more gruesome up close. What resonated the most with the officer was the look of pure terror on the lawyer's ruined face. There was an open mouth set to scream and an eye that was red and dotted with tear tracks. Had he reconsidered seconds after pulling the trigger? Had the shot not killed him instantly? The idea that he may have laid there slowly bleeding out on the desk brought a shiver down Shoat's spine.

He had to look away. Doing so brought his attention to the right-hand side of the desk. There was a handgun on the ground a short distance from the body. A yellow card with an evidence number next to it indicated that the techs had taken a picture of its positioning relative to the departed. The deadly thing must have tumbled out of his hands after the shot. Such a small, silver implement having caused that much damage to another person was shocking. Getting down on his knees to get a better look without disturbing anything, he checked it out with greater scrutiny. What he found caused him to crinkle his brow in confusion.

"Something up?" Asked the detective. The lab techs were also observing him with uncertainty. It was not often that a beat cop checked out evidence this closely. Others would wait for a report from the laboratory or field notes. Then again, Shoat liked to think of himself as more hands on when it came to processing information at crime scenes.

"Do we know where he got the gun from?"

"I wondered about that too. There was no record of him owning any type of weapon." He tapped his foot in thought. There was nothing illegal about owning a weapon in Vale. It was a necessity for those who did any type of traveling. All citizens and guests in the city were encouraged to register their arms in case they were stolen. A lawyer would have been expected to do so as a member of the court. To set a good example for the populace at large. "You don't think it came from the shipment that got ripped off, do you?"

"All pistols were accounted for from the robbery." Only one crate was still missing. Atlas was rather hush-hush about what was in that container, but they let it be known that it was not anything as simple as the pistol on the floor. He also could not imagine anyone being stupid enough to hold on to a direct piece of evidence like that, especially Mr. Howe. If the lawyer's office ever got raided, there would have been no way to explain away why he had one of the guns from the robbery. He was arrogant, but not an idiot. "It also does not seem to be a custom job. The metal is uniform and appears to be stamped from the same mold."

"Looks like it is one of a series. If there is a stamp on the barrel, that means it should be easy to track it back to where it came from." The detective saw what Shoat was getting at. He turned to one of the gawking men in white and blue. "Can you put a rush on examining the gun? Knowing where it came from can either help us put this thing to bed or ramp up the investigation."

"Sure." Said the tech before going back to the body. Having seen enough, Shoat got back to his feet and decided to head out. He had his fill of this place to last a lifetime. The detective followed him out to be polite.

"Would you mind keeping me in the loop? I know you must have other things going on, but I would appreciate it." Shoat handed over his contact information on a business card while halfway out the office door. A little professional courtesy would have been great in this instance, as what the detective uncovered might affect Shoat's paperwork load soon. Luckily, Miller seemed to agree and took it from him without hesitation.

"You got it." The detective gave him a two-finger salute. "Thanks for the input. Although, this will probably not amount to much. Seems cut-and-dry to me."

"Sure. Never hurts to be careful though."

"Right you are. See you around, Ernie."

"Hopefully not, detective."

After a brisk walk through the hallway, down the stairs, and out the front lobby, he was almost home free. He waved goodbye to the other officer and got back into his patrol car. His regular shift started in a few hours, so he was going to grab a bite to eat. As he left the parking lot, he did make note of one more thing. There was another car in the parking lot now. A white van marked with the logo of a cleaning company.

〇-〇-〇

The forestry of Patch was alive with activity.

A group of children led by an adult made their way along the dirt path. Songbirds soared high above them in the sky. They sang and whistled an unknown melody to each other. Squirrels chatted away on the branches, ignoring the interlopers. Two younger ones chased each other across the ground and up the trees. A doe followed by a few fawns poked out of the brush to get a better look at the passing humans. When the kids reacted by pointing at them in excitement, they galloped away.

Ruby observed her surroundings in fascination. There was always something new to see in the world. Their watcher, Mr. Carne, had to call her back from running off to follow the wildlife. She sometimes got carried away with her need to adventure. It was something that she knew she needed to work on. Yang had disciplined her a few times because of it, though she did not say anything this time when she returned to formation.

Besides the animals, the ground was also changing. More clover was growing in the grass, which she had learned was a sign that the warmer time of the year was at its peak. As they entered the blooming season, wildflowers would join them. The hills and valleys would fill with life and color. Her parents had taken her every year to see them. At least, that was what her sister told her. She was too young to remember it properly.

She was feeling light and bubbly this afternoon. The upbeat attitude had started the previous day, when the young girl had hung out with her favorite uncle. Watching him train was always amazing. With how fast he moved, he was like something out of one of her video games. Her father had also cooked for the first time in forever. It saved her sibling from having to scrounge up something for food that evening. There was only so much over cooked spaghetti that the girls could eat at any one time without getting sick.

The chocolate on the strawberry dessert was that school was going great. Her teachers had all been complimenting how fast she was learning to read and write. The physical education instructor was amazed at her athleticism and said he would recommend her for the preliminary health and endurance exam at the end of the term. That was the first step to entering the huntress classes. She had even aced her math test. Two times two equaled excellent!

Actually, it equaled four. But she knew what she meant!

The march continued uninhibited. At each fork in the road, they said goodbye to a few of their fellow classmates in the same predictable order. First it was Roy and his sister Violet who peaced out before heading for their house. Laguna was next, although she opted to wait near the mailbox to wait for her older sister to come out and play. Then Dove had peeled off to meet up with his mother standing in front of their cabin. And so forth.

The steady departures were a way for Ruby to track how close they were to home. Almost everything was going as it should have. Almost. There was one thing missing from the routine. Around now was when one of Yang's friends from her combat classes would come over and start to chat with them. Or chat at them, was more like it. Yang preferred to ignore him and only answered direct questions.

The boy, Cobalt, was eager to hang out with the two of them for some reason. He was funny and distinctive with his furry ears. She had asked about them once. He had laughed and said they made it all the better to hear her with. Others nearby had laughed as well but it sounded off. Almost cruel. The boy seemed nice enough. She never understood why he seemed to keep to himself when not around them, so she would occasionally start the conversations.

What was also cool about him were his weapons. He would let her examine them when Yang was not paying attention. That made him one of the few people who would let her look at their equipment. Everyone else, especially her family, said she was too young. That made him okay in her book. The weapons were a pair of metal sticks with rubber handles that extended from the rod. There were holes drilled into the ends, but he was tight lipped about what those were for. Pressing the button she had found on the ends of the handle did nothing interesting. She would try guessing, but she was always wrong. It was a fun challenge that she was interested in continuing.

However, Cobalt was nowhere to be seen that afternoon. In fact, he had not been around for a few days. Ruby thought he might be avoiding them after what had happened last week. She did not hear the specifics, but he and Yang had gotten into an argument. Mr. Ling had to separate them. The older boy had looked crushed when her sister had called him a liar to his face. That was the last Ruby had seen of him.

Thinking about it a little more, her explanation did not account for what was going on. Hiding from them did not make sense. He still needed to go home after school, so he should still be in the walking group. She also did not see him during lunch or at Yang's after school practice yesterday. Maybe he was ill. Earlier in the semester, she had gotten a flu that had kept her home for a full week. The same could have happened to him.

I hope he feels better. She thought.

Being sick was the worst thing ever. Maybe she would bring him some chocolate chip cookies after he got back. Those always made her feel better. It would require her to guilt Yang into helping her make them. It would be worth it though. For Ruby, making friends was always difficult. She did not want to lose this one, even if he was more interested in her sister than herself.

The siblings finally separated from the rest of the group when they had come within sight of their own house. A few called back goodbyes as they moved along. She was now holding her sister's hand as they both walked the well-worn pathway home. Yang had not said a word the entire way. Ruby tried to change that.

"Are you going to train later?" The younger asked the older.

"What?" Yang asked after a few seconds. She must not have heard her.

"Training."

That was usually the first thing that her sister would do after getting home. Ruby would sometimes watch as she ran laps or struck a punching bag repeatedly. The smaller girl would keep score as the blonde tried to complete a task. It was not as over the top as her Uncle's exercises, but it was fun to be a cheerleader for her sister.

"Not tonight Rubes. I'm not feeling too good."

Ruby had heard whispers from the other kids that something had happened with her, but no one was saying what. It was not just her who was acting odd. Everyone who was in the beginner huntsman classes looked rather sad for some reason. Maybe everyone needed cookies. Not just Cobalt, but her classmates as well. She was going to need more cookie dough.

They kept the silence the rest of the way to the front door. Once inside, Yang had made a beeline for the stairs and their shared room. Ruby sighed when she heard the door slam. Something was up, but she did not know what to do. Yang was the one who usually had the answers. Seeing someone down and not knowing how to help was the other worst thing ever. Ruby's good mood was officially gone.

Hearing noises from the living room, she decided to investigate. Ace was splayed out on the couch on his back. His eyes were closed as warm breath escaped his nose in controlled bursts. The dog's legs were going back and forth in the air at a sustained gallop. He was growling at an invisible enemy every now and then. The companion animal must have been dreaming about chasing rabbits again. She walked up to him and began to rub his belly. Finding the right place to scratch, his little appendages increased in their movements. She giggled at the display.

"Ruby?" Asked the voice of her father from down the hallway.

"Coming." She answered.

Leaving Ace to his hunt, she traced the question back to its speaker. The one she was looking for was seated at the kitchen table. On the counter was a big red bowl. Between her Dad's legs was a clear plastic bag filled with green beans. He was in the process of snapping the vegetables to cook them. Ruby grimaced. Those were her least favorite things to eat, no matter how good Yang said they were for her.

Her father being up to cook was an improvement from a few days ago. Not even the smell from her cookies could wake him from it most days. They had learned in class about how animals would sometimes go into a deep sleep to conserve energy. She wondered if he was also a bear or something. The hooded girl was just hopeful that her Uncle would return before he went back into his room to 'hibernate.'

"There you are." He said in mid-snap while not looking up. "How was school?"

"Okay." She answered. "I did really good on my math test."

"Math test? I thought that was not for a few more weeks?"

"Yeah. No, it was today." She rubbed her arm. He was supposed to help her study for it. That was before he had gone into his room and would not come out. Yang ended up having to stay up with her to prepare with flashcards.

"Oh. Well congratulations." He looked up from his work to give her a smile. There was a look of shock before he returned to his previous rate of bean snapping. "I'm so proud of you."

Her father continued his work. Ruby watched, wanting to offer support but also not wanting to startle him. The children had to walk on eggshells around the house when he came out of one of the long sleeps. He could go back at a moment's notice. If they were cautious, maybe it would not happen again. They could only hope.

"Where is your sister?" He said after a few minutes.

"In our room. She wanted to lay down."

"Can you go check on her? I will have supper ready in a bit."

She nodded and seized the opportunity to leave. Walking away, she passed the couch again. Ace was now awake. He cocked her head at him but did not do anything else. The way he stood up made him look like he was waiting for an order from her. He would sometimes act up around Yang and Uncle Qrow, but he was always patient around her. They said he was going senile, but Ruby thought her family was just jelly. She held her hand out to pet his snout.

"Want to help me cheer up Yang?" She asked hopefully.

The dog licked her hand and hopped off the couch to the floor. She took that as confirmation and appreciated the help. Two heads were better than one. Moving up the incline, she used the railing to silently get her up each step. A low thud would follow each of her movements while climbing. Ace was not as graceful as she was and had to pounce up at each new raised platform.

Up stairway and down the connecting hall, she moved through the darkness. There was no natural light when all the doors were closed. Yang must have decided to leave the lights off when she came up earlier. At the front of the entrance to their room. Ruby looked back at her smaller friend. He nudged her leg to push her on.

Opening the door, she peered inside. The drapes were closed keeping the room as dark as the hallway. The girl ushered Ace in and closed the door behind them. The sisters had bunk beds to preserve space in the tiny room. Right now, there was a lumpy bundle under the covers of her sister's bed. The fabric rose and fell at a steady pace, showing that there was something alive inside. Knowing that her Uncle had slayed the monster that used to live under the bed months ago, Ruby thought she knew what it was.

Tiptoeing up to the sheets that had been pulled up to hide under, she stood there for a few minutes watching. The blankets were vibrating in place. There was an unnatural silence to it. She poked the mass, causing it to stop moving. Ruby was getting worried. Much more than she had been not too long before.

"Yang?"

The covers were pulled back to show a tear stained face. Her only sister looked up in clear pain. Red clouded the whites of her eyes. In the dim lighting, it looked like her lavender had tented to crimson as well. Even now, Yang did not say anything. She just looked up with tear stained eyes and hiccupped. Ruby responded by taking off her cape and kicking her boots to the side. Ace came over to sit at the foot of the bed to guard her garments. Lightly pushing her sibling further into the bed to make more space, Ruby slid in beside her.

Once settled in together, Yang's arms wrapped around her sister to pull her face closer. Ruby did not know what was going on, but she decided she could find out later. Yang had always been there for her, so now she would return the favor. The blonde sobbed until they both fell asleep.

〇-〇-〇

The outer edge of Vale, which consisted of a small strip of land between the protective high wall and the rest of the city, was vacant of life. There was a reason for this. Not many people wanted to live with the daily reminder that only a thin barrier separated themselves from the tide of darkness that consumed most of Remnant. The everyday Joes and Janes could not function as productive members of society if they lived every second of their lives in existential fear.

Fear, consequently, that would attract the monsters that roamed outside. As such, the area was desolate. The Council did not even have to pass a measure to decree it. No one would build anything there, even during those times that the city population grew out of control. There was one exception to this rule. A solitary building built by the Council at the end of a cul-de-sac.

Shiny and modern, the angular government office must have been built very recently. No cars were parked on the street nor was there any foot traffic. Some would have called the yellow brick building abandoned. It was not. The watcher knew better than that. The people inside would be buzzing with activity. Through one of the windows, anyone could see that the cubicles were packed.

After failing to get any decent intelligence out of her information lead, she was in danger of falling behind. As such, she had moved to plan B. There was a file in that building, either physical or electronic, that had what she needed for her mission to continue. Since she did not have any contacts on the inside, she could not bribe someone to give her the file. That meant she would need to go in and take it.

To prepare, she observed the building carefully. Every entrance and exit needed to be accounted for. The security needed to be clocked for their response times. The employees needed to be documented, along with what they did and where they went. And, most of all, she needed to do this without tipping anyone off. It was like a giant hornet's nest. For the time being, it was in her best interest to avoid kicking it. The best intrusions were when no one expected anything to happen.

Delia bit into the tangy sandwich she had bought as she watched. Seated at a bus bench that was across from the target, she pretended to be someone having an outdoor meal. There was no reason for anyone to be suspicious of this action. People in Vale did that all the time. There were also not any cameras as far as she could see. Those would have been concentrated on the building proper. Laws were in place to keep recording devices out of public spheres as well. This was not Atlas. This kingdom still respected privacy.

While eating, she mimed checking her scroll. Every few seconds, she would snap a new picture with its zoom feature. Important photos were recorded for future reference. They included the front entrance, the reception area, and the side loading bay. Eventually, she would need to head around back to see if there was a way in from behind. Conjecturally, the roof was probably the least guarded. Unfortunately, she could not get up there. She could not fly and there was not an adjacent building to jump from.

The Assassin considered walking in and pretending like she belonged there. The problem was that if even one person recognized her, she would have to abort the whole heist. It would be too easy to trace the theft back to her if discovered. Disguising herself would not work. A simple wig would not work as it did in Argus. The people inside were very observant. It was a part of their job. If they found her in a costume, there would be a lot of awkward questions.

No. That would not do.

Her best bet was a break in during the graveyard shift. Experience told her that was when it would be most empty. That would give her the most time to look around. If she wore dark clothing and a mask, she could even take someone hostage. That was an extreme scenario that she wanted to avoid, but it was available to her. She was also making a lot of assumptions. A night spent probing the defenses and verifying her thoughts would not hurt. Better to get it right than to do it sloppy.

Midway through her sandwich, she had an odd experience. Something she had not experienced for a while. An odd tingling on the back of her neck. Like someone had walked across her grave. Eyes were on her.

Looking around casually, there did not appear to be anyone nearby. Was she being paranoid? Probably, but paranoia had saved her before. Believing she had enough pictures she quickly ate the rest of her deli food. Crumbling up the paper bag she had transported it in, she stuck the remains in her jacket pocket rather than throw it on the ground. It was rude to litter.

Standing up, she started walking back towards the city. Delia made sure to make a show of being upset by stomping her foot and cursing at the sky before leaving. Anyone watching would have assumed she was disappointed about a bus being late. With each step, the feeling of being followed increased. A few noises behind her showed that something was back there and doing a bad job of hiding it. She dared not look back. Better to have the element of surprise if they thought she was unaware. That left a question in her mind.

Who is it?

There were a few possibilities. Had Atlas figured out what she had done? It seemed implausible that they could have put the clues together and mobilized quickly enough to track her down. She also would have had some warning. The Duma had spies at every level of the frozen kingdom's government. That vast network was the whole reason she worked for them. Someone would have warned her, if for no other reason than that she was viewed as an important asset to protect.

She assessed the situation. Her combat choices were limited. Losing the stolen gun earlier hurt. There was no choice. She had to leave it behind to sell the story of that lawyer's death. A suicide weapon could not grow legs and leave. She still had the combat knife. Depending on who it was, she might be able to handle them just fine. Delia was no slouch in close quarters combat. The hired killer used a sniper rifle in her contracts because that was her preferred method. It was less personal and simple to clean up afterwards. Nothing short of another trained huntsman could take her.

That was not her being full of herself. That was just a fact.

But, out here in the open, she lacked the advantage. Too many angles for them to get at her. She needed to narrow the battlefield. Turning down an alleyway, she lured them in. Footsteps closing in behind her confirmed that she was being pursued. The footfalls, based on the gait, indicated it was one person. Not a huntsmen team or a squad of Specialists. Not even a pair of cops. A single person.

She readied her blade and turned to confront them.

"Oh." She sighed. "It's just you."

"You're damn right it's me!" Yelled Randy. The numbskull from the deli squared his shoulders to try and look bigger than he was. "You thought I would let you just get away?"

"How did you find me?" She wondered aloud.

"I own these streets. Nothing happens on them without me knowing it!"

"No. That's not it." If that were true, she would have known something about him. She examined him closely. The two-bit thug's face was red. Some of it looked like the early signs of a sunburn. His leather jacket was also moist from his sweat. "You've been looking for me. What, did you pick a direction and just kept walking until you found me? If so, good job. Now what?"

"I'm going to take my pound of flesh."

"This did not go to well for you last time." The former huntress pointed out.

"I don't have to take it easy this time!"

"That's my line."

He roared and swung his fist at her. Delia could have dodged it. His untrained ability made it look like it was coming at her in slow motion. She decided not to. Instead, she held up an open palm and wrapped her fingers around his knuckles on contact. This stopped his forward progress dead. Randy was confused. She was half his size, yet his attack went nowhere. The bewilderment ceased when she pressed down hard. He groaned and fell to his knees.

"What have you learned?" She teased.

"Screw you!"

"Wrong answer." She released the vice grip. The split second of freedom he had was ended when she used her foot to push him back roughly into the wall. His head hit the red brick as he slid down. She stood over him to get a better look at her handywork. His eyes showed a willingness to fight on. This was becoming annoying.

Balancing herself by leaning against the wall, she took her knee and pressed it into his windpipe. His hands came up to scratch at the blue jean covered leg against his throat. Those bespectacled eyes of his bulged as his face turned from red to blue to purple. Even after he had clearly given up, she held the hold for a few more minutes to get the point across. Finally, there was terror in those dark irises. Now there was an understanding.

She let go.

He took a deep breath and got off his hands and knees to scamper away. Tripping over his dizzy feet, he fell into a couple of trash bags next to a dumpster. There was a shattering noise. He had fallen on top of something fragile. The assassin followed him. She needed to make sure he knew what to expect from her going forward if he did not stop following her. Standing over him, she asked again.

"Well?"

"Okay." He was breathing heavy now. "No more."

"Good. Now why don't we…" She paused. His shoulder blades were moving. Coiling. Looking to strike. Why would he try that? Delia had the advantage. Nothing had changed. She got her answer when he sprung to action. There was something jagged in his hands. He turned to stab at her.

On instinct, she engaged her Aura. That was a good decision. There was another sharp breaking noise. Glass turned into shards in his hands. He yelped in pain. Looking at his hand, it was a mess. Blood flowed out of his palms and on to his jacket. Looking below him, Delia found where he had gotten it. A broken mirror had been under the rubbish. It looked like there was still more to teach him.

"Huntress…" He whispered in terror. She frowned. That was problematic.

"Don't make assumptions. I have my Aura unlocked. That doesn't make me a huntress."

"Stay back! Or I will report you!" He laughed hysterically while wrapping his still bleeding hand in his shirt. "I know people in SWORD! They will be all over you for this."

He was bluffing. Just like before. He was a nobody. Not a piranha nor a shark, but a bottom feeder. A person who survived by eating the droppings of others much more dangerous than himself. She had sized him up perfectly. It was time to step away from this nuisance once and for all.

Before she could leave, something occurred to her. What if she was wrong?

She was so close to accomplishing what she was after. This was her last mission. She swore on everything she held dear that it was. The Duma had to pay up this time or else suffer the consequences. Would she really let this human filth stand in her way? Of ruining her only chance at setting her world right again?

The answer was obvious.

As the Loose End stood up, she was on him at once. Pushing hard with one hand, she pinned him by his shoulder to the wall. Before he could call out for help, she covered his mouth with her hand and plunged the knife she carried into his chest. He tried to escape, but she maintained the pressure on him. Randy wiggled and cried as he tried to get away.

It was no use. His strength was no match for hers.

Eventually, the movements ceased. His eyes had glazed over, still locked onto her own. The last bit of light in them had been extinguished. The Murderess let out another heavy breath as she let go of him. The body slid to the ground with a thud. Bending over, she wiped the knife's handle down but left it embedded in his torso. No one would think twice about some thug getting knifed in an alleyway. Deaths like that were a lien-a-dozen.

To obscure the body, she piled a few of the trash bags on top of him. Leaving the crime scene behind, she reassessed the situation while walking. It would be at least until tomorrow morning before anyone found him. Although she had made some distance between her target and the kill spot, it was still too close for comfort. When news broke about an open violent death investigation in the area, everyone would be on high alert. The government building would increase security out of an abundance of caution. There was no way around it. Delia had to go in tonight.

Ordinarily she would avoid doing anything this risky. So much could go wrong. There were lots of variables that were unknowable. She did not care anymore. This mindset had the added benefit of freeing her from her restraints. What did it matter if she let loose? If she stopped holding back? If she lost control? The nastiest thing that could happen was that she would die.

There were worse things than dying.

Author Notes: And the body count grows. So it turns out my assessment of being out of action for the last few Fridays was correct. I hope this longer chapter makes up for it. See you next week. :D

Chapter Next: No (8/28/20)