JD stood under the wash of the street lamp, hat pulled low over his head, the collar of his raincoat turned up. The steady drizzle over the past 24 hours appeared to have washed all color from the surrounding office buildings, leaving them a murky gray in the twilight. Moodily he looked upwards and noted that the 5th floor of the building opposite was dark.
Behind him he heard the click-clack of her heels on the rain-slicked pavement, impatiently making their way towards him. He turned unhurriedly.
"Jack?" she asked uncertainly. "Why did you call? We shouldn't be seen together in public." She looked quickly up and down the street. Cars sped by on the wet asphalt, oblivious to the two figures huddled together like ghosts in the night.
JD studied her silently for a moment. "I've been thinking," he began, reaching out to take her hand in his. "Why don't we just…forget about this? We could leave all this behind, make a new start in another city. Just you and me, baby," he said caressingly.
Irina snatched back her hand in irritation. "You can't be serious," she snapped. Then, with an apologetic look, hastily amended, "He'd find us, Jack. He'd find us anywhere. We need proof." She swallowed. "Jack, you don't know how much I want to be with you again." She leaned forward, her body pressing against his, her perfume enveloping them both. "Forever and a day," she breathed, her lips a millimeter from his.
Of its own volition, JD's hand snaked around her head and pulled her close as his lips moved to meet hers. Hungrily he devoured her, pouring 20 years of passion, frustration, need, and longing into his kiss. When he finally released her, eyes unreadable, she tottered backwards, her fingers unconsciously tracing her swollen lips.
"So long, sweetheart."
"See you soon, Jack," she said breathlessly.
JD turned and, without another word, crossed the street. She waited and watched until he was swallowed by the gloom, then swiftly made her way to a phone booth.
**
JD paused outside the door to the DA's office and took a deep breath. Reaching into his pocket, he removed several small tools. His time in the joint had not been without some side benefits, he thought to himself mirthlessly. Swiftly he picked the lock and walked in through the door, hesitating in the darkness. Switching on his flashlight he rapidly scanned the interior, searching.
Yes, he had found it.
**
She picked up the phone. "Chicago 9129, please." Her foot tapped impatiently.
"Benji's."
"Could I speak to Charlie Mackinson, please?" She waited several moments, the noise from the bar filtering through the earpiece.
"Mackinson."
"Charlie?" she said coquettishly. "Hello, darling. Do you know where I am?"
"Sweetheart?" came the puzzled response.
"I'm on your desk, tiger. Wearing my birthday suit…and your handcuffs. But I'll only be here for a couple of minutes. So…do hurry and *come* over," she purred seductively. Her eyes were hard as she gazed out the dirt-streaked glass onto the street.
After a short, stunned silence, she heard with satisfaction, "Don't. go. anywhere. I'll be right there."
**
She waited in the silent shadows of the alley. The rain had stopped, and mist was slowly rising from the street, lying like a blanket over the sleeping city. Suddenly the quiet was shattered by the roar of a gunshot, its noise reverberating between the walls of the buildings. She watched with approval as a foot patrol rounded the corner on the run and sprinted into the building's entrance, and sirens filled the air.