Title: December's Children
Author: FelineFemme
She stares up at the sky, which has turned as gray as her eyes, and shivers under her trenchcoat. Impatiently, she brushes her long black hair from her face as the wind whips it carelessly about. Where is that man? she wonders. She can't have beaten him to the punch that easily, there's something almost supernatural in the way Amon hunts his quarry, the way he hunts down their assignments without wasting a drop of orbo. No, maybe "supernatural" isn't quite what she's thinking of. There is an expression, "cold-blooded." It's just as apt for reptiles as it is for her partner.
The tall woman readjusts her earpiece. "Amon," she says, pulling out her orbo-loaded gun as she sights their target, "where the hell are you?"
No answer. So, playing it cool, as usual. Damn, I'm supposed to be your partner, so where's my backup? "Amon, I see him," she says, adding, "Michael, you read me?" The target, a middle-aged man with a slight limp, sees her and runs into an alley.
A quick hiss of static, and the teen's voice comes through. "I read you. Amon should be there by now."
Duh, she's about to retort. Before she can say anything, though, the witch manifests his powers, and she's thrown back by the force of the mini- earthquake. "Dammit!"
Once she gets somewhat stabilized, she shoots at the witch, who does his earth-shaking thing again. But she nails him, and while the old man's winded, she shoots a couple more times. A familiar figure in black appears at the other end of the alley, and lowers his gun when he sees the situation's been taken care of.
"Kate," is all he says, and from that one word, she's not sure if he's relieved, worried, or displeased. Without a word, he signals the Factory men to come and claim the target, and walks off without an explanation.
Cold-blooded, all right. Too bad that applies to her as well as him.
Author: FelineFemme
She stares up at the sky, which has turned as gray as her eyes, and shivers under her trenchcoat. Impatiently, she brushes her long black hair from her face as the wind whips it carelessly about. Where is that man? she wonders. She can't have beaten him to the punch that easily, there's something almost supernatural in the way Amon hunts his quarry, the way he hunts down their assignments without wasting a drop of orbo. No, maybe "supernatural" isn't quite what she's thinking of. There is an expression, "cold-blooded." It's just as apt for reptiles as it is for her partner.
The tall woman readjusts her earpiece. "Amon," she says, pulling out her orbo-loaded gun as she sights their target, "where the hell are you?"
No answer. So, playing it cool, as usual. Damn, I'm supposed to be your partner, so where's my backup? "Amon, I see him," she says, adding, "Michael, you read me?" The target, a middle-aged man with a slight limp, sees her and runs into an alley.
A quick hiss of static, and the teen's voice comes through. "I read you. Amon should be there by now."
Duh, she's about to retort. Before she can say anything, though, the witch manifests his powers, and she's thrown back by the force of the mini- earthquake. "Dammit!"
Once she gets somewhat stabilized, she shoots at the witch, who does his earth-shaking thing again. But she nails him, and while the old man's winded, she shoots a couple more times. A familiar figure in black appears at the other end of the alley, and lowers his gun when he sees the situation's been taken care of.
"Kate," is all he says, and from that one word, she's not sure if he's relieved, worried, or displeased. Without a word, he signals the Factory men to come and claim the target, and walks off without an explanation.
Cold-blooded, all right. Too bad that applies to her as well as him.