THIRTY-NINE
A week after taking out Tremmel and his thugs in Wall Market and getting the key to the Vice gang's strongbox, I was in my shop sitting at my desk, inputting the latest set of data I'd collected about their attacks into my computer. It was late afternoon, with autumn just starting, and I stopped for a moment when I realized I'd been living in the slums for two years now. Had it really been that long?
It was a little hard to believe. So much had happened since I'd been here—staying with Aerith and getting on my feet again, standing up to Don Corneo and his pet, arriving in Sector 7 and meeting everyone for the first time, joining Avalanche, my mission with Tifa to scout out the Shinra supply depot, our dangerous journey through the sewers where I'd nearly died, my fighting lessons with her, stealing engine parts from the museum and finishing our secret elevator, starting my little project to build a Hardy, and Katie and Tom's wedding.
In spite of how much I liked and enjoyed the life I'd built for myself down here, I'd never quite shaken my fear that my father would shatter my life again somehow like he had before. There'd been times, when I'd lay in bed at night, that I'd worry about it. I hadn't heard anything ever since I'd left the plate, so I shouldn't have been concerned. But even so, it bothered me. He had come out of nowhere before to destroy me and all that I'd had. I didn't want it to happen again.
I had considered telling the others the truth about myself, of who I really was and how I had left the plate, but… I hadn't been able to do it. Not even just to Tifa. I was afraid of what they'd think, if they'd still feel the same way about me after finding out that not only was I in Shinra, I was also the daughter of one their most hated enemies. I'd told myself I was probably getting myself worked up over nothing, but… I couldn't do it. I was just too scared of being rejected.
Pushing those thoughts from my mind, I got back to work putting in the last of the data. My tablet sat next me on the desk, and I glanced at the information displayed on it from time to time as I fed it into the computer. When I was finished, I tapped a few keys to update and run the analysis program using the new data.
A map of the slums came up on the screen a moment later. It went all the way from the outskirts of Sector 7 to the borders of the Sector 5 undercity. A collection of red dots marked the locations of each attack, with the date listed above each one. There were a lot of them—way too many, in fact—and they'd been increasing steadily over the past several months. I sighed, rubbing my chin in thought as I gazed intently at the map. There had to be a pattern somewhere.
Most of the attacks were clustered in the northwest half of Sector 5 and in the southeast portion of Sector 6, including a good chunk of the collapsed expressway. So far at least, they hadn't gotten too close to the actual settlements but had stayed fairly in the middle between the two. Which meant that their base was somewhere in those hills of scrap and junk. I'd already guessed that much, but I needed their exact location. I couldn't just go wandering aimlessly.
Inputting a few more commands, I told the program to analyze the location data again and show me all the attacks in chronological order. The dots disappeared for a moment and then slowly started to emerge again. At first, I didn't see anything. But then, as more of them came in and the pattern began to emerge, my eyes widened and I finally began to understand. I sat back, thinking it over.
The attacks had started out in the heart of those long, empty trails that wound between here and the Sector 5 undercity and had gradually expanded outward in both directions. They were closer to Sector 5 for the most part, but more of them had been coming this way lately. None past the collapsed expressway so far, but if the pattern held, that would change soon enough. Now that I understood the pattern of the attacks and how they were expanding, I had the program use that information to run a trace and find their point of origin.
Within seconds, I had it.
A flashing blue dot appeared on the map, situated in an abandoned area just past the Sector 5 outskirts north of the main road. That place gave easy access to most of that sector as well as almost half of Sector 6, including a large portion of the collapsed expressway. It had to be back amidst all those junk piles, out of sight of the road but not out of reach. And not out of my reach anymore, either.
I smirked. "Found ya…"
With just a few keystrokes, I copied the coordinates to my tablet. I had everything I needed for my mission now, and I decided I might as well get it done today. The gang would find a buyer for the chip sooner or later, and the longer I waited, the more likely it'd be that they'd sell it before I could steal it back from them.
Just then, the bell above the door jingled as it opened and someone started to come inside. I quickly turned off the monitor and picked up my tablet, then looked up and smiled as Tifa sat in the small cushioned chair on the other side of my desk.
"Hey there!" I said. "Nice to see a familiar face."
She laughed. "Thanks. Even though you see it just about every day. Since you're usually the one coming to see me, I thought I'd mix it up a bit and come visit you instead today."
I grinned. "You're always welcome here, you know."
"I'll keep that in mind," Tifa chuckled. "Anyway, I'm gonna go for a walk here in a bit—you know, just around town and maybe up as far as the train station—to get outside and stretch my legs for a while before I open the bar tonight. Wanna come with?"
"Oh, I'd love to, but… I've got plans," I told her.
She nodded. "More work?"
"No, actually I'm following up on a lead about the chip," I told her. "It'll take a while, and I probably won't be back for at least a few hours. I'll swing by Seventh Heaven when I do and fill you in. Over dinner, of course. And some of your famous cake."
"Deal!" Tifa agreed.
I went on. "That walk sounds nice, though. Rain check?"
She smiled. "Love to."
"Awesome!" I said, giving her a thumbs up.
Tifa returned it, then glanced down at my desk and what was on it. "Cleaning up your gear today?"
I was only wearing my blue leotard top, black lycra pants, and soft shoes today. My armor and other gear was all laid out on my desk. Tifa was right that I'd been cleaning it, getting the steel to a nice shine while scrubbing the spots out of the leather and fabric.
"Yeah," I answered. "I usually do it about once a week or so. Keeps everything all nice and shiny, you know?"
She nodded. "Looks good! Anyway, I'd better go."
"Okay," I said, walking her to the door as she stood up. "I hope you have a good time on your walk. And be sure to let me know if you find anything interesting out there, alright?"
"Will do," Tifa promised.
Once she had left, I went over to my desk and started getting ready for my mission. First, I put on my olive cargo pants, buttoning them up and fastening my belt snugly around my waist. After checking to make sure that my leather pouch was in place on my left hip, I slipped on my black chain vest. Then I took off my shoes and replaced them with my armored boots, their steel toes shining.
Next, I put on my breastplate, snapping the buckles closed one at a time with practiced ease. That bent one in the back was still giving me a little trouble, but after a minute or two of fiddling with it, I managed to snap it into position. My pauldrons were next as I carefully fastened the straps below my arms. After I tugged my bracers up to my elbows, I pulled on my gloves and flexed my fingers for a moment. And finally, I tied my red headband firmly in place, making the knot good and tight as the two straps hung loosely behind my ears.
Now it was time to see about my weapons and other supplies. First, I unlocked the safe sitting behind me. That was where I kept my guns, ammo, and raspberries. After flipping open my belt pouch, I stocked it up with half a dozen of my special grenades, several smoke bombs, and a few clips of ammo. I also had a handful of potions. Then I paused for a moment as I held both of my guns.
I'd only need one of them, but which one? The A32 was bigger and stronger, with a heftier punch, but it was also heavier. And I still wasn't as experienced in using it as I was with my handgun. As outnumbered as I was sure to be, I needed something I wouldn't have to worry about wondering how to use. So I put the A32 away and slipped my handgun into my belt, then took one last thing from the safe.
It was the key I'd stolen from Tremmel last week. I gazed at it for a moment, steeling myself for what I had to do, then secured it carefully inside my belt pouch. After slipping my tablet in there as well, I closed it, then did the same with my safe, locking it up. Then, after thinking it over for a moment, I took out a pen and a sheet of paper from my desk and wrote Tifa a note explaining everything—where I was going, what I was doing, and why. Just in case I didn't make it back. I was confident that I would, but I didn't wanna take any chances.
When I was done, I folded it in half, wrote Tifa's name on the other side, and put it inside the top drawer of my desk where she could easily find it later on if something did happen to me. Then I stood up, took a long, deep breath, and left to start my mission.
About an hour later, as night fell over the slums, I slowed to a stop on the narrow dirt trail that led to the Sector 5 undercity. From where I stood, I could just barely make out the mismatched assortment of huts, shacks, and other buildings shrouded in gloom on the western edge of town in the distance. And on either side of me, large piles of scrap and junk rose up in a series of low hills.
It was pretty quiet as I looked around and took out my tablet. If my calculations were right, the Vice gang's lair was somewhere in the junk mounds to my left, a few hundred yards from the road. I had taken the long way to get here from Sector 7 and fortunately hadn't encountered anything other than a few eaters, so I'd snuck past them and moved on, wanting to avoid a fight until I got here. It was early evening, just as I'd planned. Cover of darkness and all that.
I crept off the road with hardly a sound and made my way into the scrap piles, moving carefully to avoid making any noise. I didn't wanna alert any sentries. Every so often, I checked the map on my tablet to be sure I was heading in the right direction, and before long, I saw several small trails leading through all the junk, likely made by the Vice thugs as they'd slipped back and forth between their base and the road. Then, about ten minutes later, I found it.
The trash and scrap metal were piled much higher here, just ahead of me, and curved away on either side to form a set of crude walls. The base had to be inside somewhere, and some kind of entrance. All I had to do was find it. There were other, smaller piles of junk scattered here and there, and I darted quietly from one to the next as I slowly headed around the perimeter to the left. I froze behind one of them and waited when I heard voices nearby. Vice thugs.
They were laughing and joking amongst themselves, the same kind of lewd talk I'd heard Tremmel and his boys enjoying in Wall Market. I curled my lip in disgust as I peered around the corner and watched the goons walk by. A patrol, no doubt. I stayed where I was until they were gone, then got moving again, knowing I only had so much time before they circled back around. A few minutes at best.
I hid behind the scrap heaps as much as possible as I made my way along the outer courtyard until I finally spotted an opening in the junk wall. Two more goons stood watch, one on either side. Both had knives in their belts and lounged lazily against the wall, clearly bored and not nearly as attentive as they should've been.
Their mistake.
Turning away for a moment with my back to the pile of junk I was hiding behind, I put my tablet away and took a smoke bomb out of my belt pouch. Then I looked at the sentries again, gauging the distance to the entrance. It would be close, but I was sure I could get inside before the smoke dissipated. Still, I'd have to find a hiding spot fast once I got in or I'd be seen before I wanted to be.
I knew this was my last chance to back out. Once I ran in, it would be do or die. And I didn't plan on dying. I thought again of Lena, of all she'd gone through because of this chip… because of me. I had to make things right and bring Dorian and the rest of his thugs to justice. Three down, five to go. With that firmly in mind, I held up the smoke bomb, my eyes on both of the guards, and smirked.
"It's showtime," I whispered.
Then I threw it, striking the ground in between the two guards. As soon as the smoke rose up, I sprinted soundlessly across the area while they shouted and coughed, then slipped past them and into the tunnel leading to the inner courtyard. I kept to one side, hurrying onward just as the smoke started to dissipate behind me.
The large inner courtyard was lined with several sheds, shacks, and other small buildings that stood all along the wall. The biggest one was at the far end, opposite where I'd come in from, and I knew that had to have belonged to the gang's main leader. Braddock was his name, from what Tremmel had said. I hoped I wouldn't run into him—he wasn't on my shit list tonight—but if I did, I'd be ready.
Dozens of men milled about the area, talking and drinking for the most part. A few were sparring as well, but none of them seemed to be paying much attention to their surroundings as I darted quietly behind several stacks of crates nearby. There were a lot of them, I noticed, here and there between the buildings. Plenty of cover. And a few rusted cars as well, sitting around the courtyard like relics amidst the piles of junk with their tires gone and their paint faded.
According to Tremmel, the strongbox was in a shed near the shack Braddock used for his office. I saw it a minute later. It was a squat little building with a single door amidst more crates and boxes. Now all that was left was to get there. And once I had the chip, I'd find Dorian next. I hadn't seen him yet, but I knew he had to be around here somewhere. He was one of the group's leaders, and I had a raspberry with his name on it just begging to make his acquaintance.
Staying behind cover as much as possible, I made my way stealthily along the left edge of the courtyard toward the shed with the strongbox in it, keeping to the shadows as much as possible amidst the crates and barrels stacked everywhere among the junk piles. Sometimes I'd wait as a few thugs went into or out of the makeshift buildings along my path, but none of them saw or heard me. And soon enough, the small shed I was aiming for was within reach, just a short ways ahead of me. So far, so good. But the hard part was still to come.
Tifa would've thrown a fit if she'd known what I was up to—hiding out here alone in the heart of the Vice gang's lair preparing to steal the chip back right out from under their ugly noses, surrounded by dozens of men who'd gladly beat, rape, and kill me if I got caught. I was a little surprised myself at what I was doing. But there was no helping it. This was a personal mission for me, and I was gonna see it done. I'd happily sit through Tifa lecturing me about it later.
I was just starting to move away from the cluster of barrels I'd been crouching behind when a group of thugs suddenly ambled over, drinks in their hands and their backs to me. My heart leapt into my throat as I quickly ducked back behind cover and they stood for a moment on the other side of the barrels, taking a few swigs from their beer bottles and talking quietly amongst themselves.
"Hey, did ya hear?" one of them said. "Somebody torched Tremmel in Wall Market last week. Blew his ass right up."
Another thug blinked. "No shit? How'd that happen?"
The first one went on. "Word is, it was some broad he was meetin' with. One of Corneo's bunch saw them in a bar together just before she nailed him. Girl was pretty pissed, I hear."
"Man, ol' Tremmel, undone by a girl," a third thug whistled. "Fittin' though. He was always lookin' for a woman to bang. Looks like one did it to him instead this time, though."
He and the others laughed, then the second goon looked around as he scratched his head. "Hey, uh… you don't think that girl would show up here, do ya? If she has it out for us…"
"She'd be dead if she tried," the first thug snorted. "Dorian's wantin' to settle up for what she did to his partner."
The third guy nodded. "Yeah, he'll find her. And kill her."
"Heard he's puttin' the word out for information 'bout how to find her, where she lives," the first one added. "Offerin' a tidy sum to anyone who can lead him to her. Girl's gonna get it, I tell ya. Bet she'd be pretty good in bed, though, a firecracker like her."
More crude laughter, and then they moved off, heading on into the courtyard. Looked like word had spread amongst the gang about what I'd done to Tremmel. I wasn't surprised, and knowing I'd pissed Dorian off in the process made it even better. He was gonna find me, alright. It just wouldn't be the way he expected.
Once the thugs had left, I crept over to the shed and tried the door. It was locked, but I'd been expecting that. This was their vault, where a lot of their cash and other valuables were kept. I knew it wouldn't have been left unsecured, but unfortunately for them, I had one of the keys. Courtesy of Tremmel, of course. I took it out and slid it quietly into the lock, and it opened with a soft click.
Not wasting a moment, I darted inside and looked around, closing the door softly behind me. There was only a single room about twenty feet across, with shelves of goods lining the walls. The rest of the place was just open floor with no furniture. Lots of room to move, I realized, and as I started looking for the strongbox, I felt a plan begin to form in my mind. I could take out Dorian and strike a devastating blow against the whole gang at the same time, hitting them where it would hurt the most. All I had to do was lure him here.
The strongbox was tucked away on a shelf opposite the door about halfway up. It was a plain black metal safe with a single lock. I inserted the key right away, and it turned easily. Flipping open the strongbox, I quickly searched through the large collection of stolen gems, necklaces, rings, and other items until I found the chip.
"Jackpot!" I grinned.
After tucking it carefully inside my belt pouch, I hurried across the room and back to the door, grabbing a few handfuls of coins out of the bags on the shelves along the way. Not for myself, but to use to distract the Vice thugs on my way out after I'd dealt with Dorian and his goons. As greedy and self-obsessed as these guys were, I knew they'd try to get as many of them as they could as soon as they saw them. So I stuffed as many coins into my pockets as I could.
When I was done, I slowly pulled the door open a little and looked outside just in time to see Dorian and his four pals walk past and head into Braddock's office. I knew it was Dorian because of the blue streaks in his orange mohawk, which was also taller than those of his buddies. A mark of his rank, no doubt. He also wore a dark red sleeveless jacket and fingerless gloves of the same color along with a nose ring made out of gold. My blood boiled when I saw him, and my hands clenched into fists as I thought of what he'd done to Lena.
Once he and his thugs had gone into the shack, I crept outside and hid quietly in the shadows next to it, peering through an open window to listen in on their conversation. Braddock was even bigger and uglier than Dorian, with streaks of purple throughout his huge mohawk. His jacket and gloves were similar to Dorian's, but black. He stood with his arms folded in front of him near his desk.
"What's the word on the delivery?" he barked.
"Next shipment oughta be in two weeks," Dorian answered. "Same fee as last time. They'll be here, boss."
Braddock nodded. "Good. I wantcha to start doin' raids further up the expressway, closer to Sector 7. We gotta expand our reach. Send the boys toward Sector 4 as well, Dorian."
"Got it," he said. "And about that bitch that axed Tremmel. I wanna find her and nail her ass. Both ways, if ya get me."
"I do," Braddock laughed.
Dorian cracked his knuckles. "She'll be a mighty fine treat. I'll fuck her 'till she begs me to stop, and then I'll slit her throat and feed her to the eaters like I did that other little bitch."
You're the one that's getting nailed, Dorian, I thought, rage swirling inside me. Just you wait. I backed away from the window and crouched down in my hiding spot as he and his pals left the shack a minute or so later and started walking casually toward the courtyard, boasting about what they were gonna to do me without even knowing that I was just a few feet behind them. Before Dorian and his buddies could get very far into the open, I stood up and whistled.
"Yoo-hoo!" I called.
Dorian whirled around, his eyes wide. "You!"
One of his buddies gaped at me. "She's here! What the hell!? How'd that goddamn little bitch find our hideout!?"
"Just lucky I guess," I quipped.
"Last mistake you'll ever make," Dorian spat.
I put my hands on my hips and smirked. "Oh, I wouldn't be so sure about that. Anyway, I hear you've been looking for me, Dorian. Guess I really pissed you off big time, didn't I?"
He drew a long, sharp knife. "Damn right you did."
"Well, here I am!" I said, doing a mock bow. "Betcha didn't see this one coming, asshole. Catch me if you can!"
Then I ran, sprinting for the shed. Just as I'd hoped, Dorian and his pals all followed after me, chasing me as I opened the door and ducked inside. Drawing upon my acting skills, I put on an air of desperation as they burst in after me, each of them sporting a knife or club. The odds didn't look good, but I focused on Tifa's lessons and all she'd taught me, including the fact that numbers weren't everything. And that patience, skill, and cunning could overcome them.
"Should we tell the others?" one of the thugs asked.
Dorian closed the door. "No. I want this bitch myself, guys. Gonna beat her ass, fuck it, and then kill it. But don't worry. You can each have a little taste before I'm through with her."
I backed up, keeping the act going for a little longer. "Uh, might've gotten in a little over my head, boys. Think maybe we can make a deal? Bet I can make it worth your while…"
"No," Dorian snarled.
He and the others moved closer, just as I'd expected, and I reached a hand to the shelf behind me. "Too bad, then. I was gonna go easy on ya, but I guess we're doing this the hard way."
Dorian lunged at me. "Gotcha now, you bitch!"
"Guess again!" I shot back.
With a smirk and a wink, I whipped my arm around in a tight arc, taking the heavy metal case I'd just grabbed from the shelf along with it and slamming it across Dorian's face. He staggered backward, howling in pain as the sound of jingling coins filled the air. Then I spun around and hit another thug with a high roundhouse kick while launching the case at a third, catching him in the chest and sending him flying across the room. They both went down hard.
By luring Dorian and his goons in here, I could take them down in safety without alerting the rest of the gang and being overwhelmed. As he shook off the blow, I ducked beneath the arc of a swinging bat, then hit the thug holding it with a sharp forward thrust kick to his stomach before catching the guy behind me with a backward kick a second later. Dorian came back at me, slashing at me with his knife, but I dove low, rolling across the room as the other thugs fell away, and sprang back to my feet just in time to block another attack.
As two of the thugs closed in, I grabbed the shelf I was standing by, pulled on it as hard as I could, and darted aside just as it came crashing down onto them, burying them under an avalanche of heavy bags and boxes full of loot. It was poetic justice, of course. Taken out of the fight by their own greed. That left Dorian and the other two goons. I had to stay on the move to keep ahead of them.
I considered drawing my gun, but decided against it. The sound of bullets going off in here would surely alert Braddock and the rest of the gang, and I wasn't ready for that yet. So I just kept my fists up and tore into the brutes with a flurry of punches, spinning and ducking to avoid getting hit in return while blocking one attack after another just like in my lessons with Tifa. But this was no sparring match. This was for real. My heart was pounding with both adrenaline and excitement as I kept fighting and held my own against these guys.
One of the thugs rushed me, swinging his bat, but I was ready, and as soon as he got close enough, I stepped aside, grabbed him, and used his momentum to throw him over my shoulder. He landed hard on his back while I dodged a vicious cut from Dorian and smashed the other goon in the face with a spinning backhand punch.
As he collapsed, his mouth and nose a bloody mess, I saw the first guy slashing wildly at me again with his knife. So I concentrated, drew back my arm, and sent him flying into the wall with a focused strike to his chest that would've made Tifa proud. He smashed into the shelves, shattering them, and lay still on the floor as the goods and debris piled up on top of him. That left only Dorian.
"Well, well… now it's just you and me," I said.
He brandished his big knife. "I ain't scared of you, bitch. I'm gonna make you squeal like a rat before this is over."
I beckoned to him. "Let's dance."
Dorian didn't hesitate. Like Tremmel, he was strong but slow, and I took advantage of that, dodging his blows while landing my own. As I'd expected, he was tougher than his buddies and wouldn't go down quite as easily as they had. The fact that he was still on his feet after I'd struck him in the face with a heavy case proved that. He snarled, swinging his knife at me again, but I swept my arm up to block it, the blade clanging loudly against the metal backing of my glove and sending sparks flying as we stood there staring each other down.
"Scared yet?" he taunted.
I narrowed my eyes. "You wish."
Dorian stepped back, then cut at me from the other side. I saw him coming, though, and dodged out of the way. He missed, hitting only air as I drove my elbow into his back. He staggered forward, then whirled around, slashing high toward my neck. I ducked, then hammered him with a blinding whirlwind of punches to his ribs, pounding the side of his chest again and again until I heard something snap. Then I shoved my knee into his stomach with a loud yell.
The knife clattered to the floor, but before I could get away, Dorian grabbed me with both hands and threw me across the room. Pain filled my body as I crashed into the wall behind me, and I barely managed to roll aside in time to avoid being buried in loot and debris like the other thugs from the shelves the impact had broken.
Dorian was there as I tried to get up, and he grabbed me again and hurled me right into another shelf. I cried out as I slammed into it, but this one stayed up as another burst of pain exploded within me. I sank down onto my hands and knees, groaning as I tried to catch my breath. My armored breastplate had softened the blow, but not that much. Not when I'd been thrown so hard and so fast.
Then, as I heard Dorian coming, I saw the club. It was lying by the unconscious thug who'd been using it earlier. It was within reach, and I braced myself to move as I did my best to ignore the aching pain in my body from the way Dorian had thrown me around like a rag doll. That hadn't been part of the plan, but it would've been stupid of me to think that I'd get outta this thing without a scratch.
As soon as Dorian got close enough, I grabbed the club and swung it around in a tight upward arc, catching him on the side of the head as I quickly rose to my feet with an angry yell. He spat out a steady stream of curses as he stumbled backward, but I didn't let up. I had to end this. I kept the pressure on, hitting him again and again, seeing in my mind images of Lena, so hurt and sick, terribly bloodied and bruised, crying in my arms. With each blow I landed, my rage grew, a fury like nothing I'd ever felt before. It scared me a little.
I didn't stop until Dorian finally fell, dropping to the floor with his back against the wall amidst the shattered ruins of the shelves he'd first thrown me into. He was a bloody mess, his nose a broken pulp and half his teeth gone. But as I tossed the club aside and stood over him, he got in one final blow, grabbing his knife and slicing the exposed part of my left leg just above my boot and below the bottom of my pants. I winced and stepped back for a minute as I bled and more pain stung at me like a line of fire blazing across my shin.
But that was it for Dorian. He just sat there, his strength beaten out of him, and stared hatefully at me. I could've just left him like that. But I hadn't come here just to rough him up. I closed my eyes for a second, knowing what I had to do. I'd never like it, but Elena was right. Dorian and his buddies had definitely earned what was coming to them. And I couldn't allow them to hurt anyone else.
After drinking a potion for my wounds, I took out two raspberries and crouched in front of Dorian. He made one final lunge and tried to stab me, but I quickly grabbed his arm, twisted his wrist, and slammed one of the grenades into his mouth with my other hand while dropping the second one onto the floor between his legs. His eyes widened as he realized what I'd done, and the knife slipped from his fingers. And then I carefully took hold of the pins of both raspberries as I glared darkly at him and the last of my doubts faded away.
"It's over, Dorian," I told him. "That girl you attacked on the ruined highway a few weeks ago? She was my friend. And thanks to her, you're about to get the biggest blowjob you've ever had. Payback's a real bitch, asshole, and so are we. Have a nice day."
With one quick jerk, I pulled the pins and tossed them aside. Then I ran for the door, bursting through it and dashing outside just seconds before the raspberries went off. I rushed into the courtyard and dove to the ground as the shed exploded behind me in a blazing fireball that lit up the night, shards of burning wood and metal flying in all directions along with the blackened remains of half the gang's valuables. Thunder, heat, and smoke filled the air around me.
The rest of the thugs in the area froze, staring at the burning wreck of the shed in disbelief while Braddock stormed out of his office to see what was going on. Before he or any of the others could get a word out, though, I sprang to my feet and waved.
"Catch you assholes at a bad time?" I smirked.