Who'd have thought?
iii
For a moment in the silence after the gunfire only the woman's heavy breathing could be heard.
Then Jim's voice roared."Marty?"
Whack! The side of Marty's head felt like it was on fire.
"Did I tell you to say that? Did I? Did I?" The woman screeched dementedly. Marty turned around slowly to check Jim. He was okay, lying on the floor, eyes wide, breathing heavily but not shot. Thank god he wasn't shot. Slowly Marty turned back.
Holes, he could see holes in the tiles, big holes, several. One in the white tile where his head had lain earlier. He could see the drop of blood drying next to the hole. How had she managed to get off so many shots so quickly? He looked back, her chest was heaving. The camera lay on the floor behind her boots, pieces scattered. She had knocked it to the floor in her haste to get to him. His gaze traveled up and her eyes locked onto his.
For the second time Dunbar's voice poured around them as they held each other's eyes, hatred crackling hot and bright between them. "Puss? What have you done? Please tell me you didn't shoot Marty?" Jim was almost breathless, he struggled to get to his knees and up.
The gun never wavered from Marty's face. She wanted it. All she needed from him was an excuse. A word or another movement and she would kill him.
Jim stepped into their peripheral vision, standing now, moving forward, bound hands in front of him. "Marty?" Soon Jim would step unwittingly between the gun and Marty.
The woman's brow wrinkled she glanced at Jim and quickly back to Marty. She moved the gun from Marty's face to Jim's.
The blonde one stood a few feet in front of her, blue eyes darting but not landing on anything. She watched; he was listening. The question formed in her mind. She reached into a pocket around the back of her suit and pulled a pack of cigarettes out. Keeping her eyes on Jim's she tossed it to the side, where it landed, a soft plop on the tiles, and watched as his head turned to the sound. "Marty?" he asked again and took another step forward.
Puss stepped back before Jim's hands got too close, her smile growing. The look she gave Jim was affectionate again, motherly even.
"I'm okay, Jim. I'm not shot."
Puss stepped silently around Jim and kicked Marty in the head but it was weak, an after thought.
She grabbed the camera and left, closing the door softly behind her. The door locks clicked over.
"What happened?" Panic still colored Jim's voice.
Marty shrugged.
"Marty?"
"I guess she didn't like me leaving clues in my message."
"She hurt you?"
"It's nothing…" Marty could see Jim didn't know if he should believe him or not but he dropped it.
"It was a good idea, putting that info in. I hope she gives it to them…." He took another step toward Marty, who hadn't moved from the floor. "You're awfully quiet, what's going on? You sure she didn't hurt you?"
"No, I just… you were behind me when she fired, I … I thought she shot you."
Jim nodded, clearly he understood. "Got it. Okay." And he was back to business. "What did she drop? Anything we can use?"
"Nah, cigarette packet."
"Is there a window, maybe we can blow smoke signals?"
"No, I told you there's no win…" Marty looked at Jim's straight face. A laugh, not his, it couldn't be, began rumbling down in his throat, and although he tried to suppress it, it bubbled up and out.
Soon they were both sitting with their backs to the bath, laughing quietly.
"Oh, it must have been too long since I had a laugh, this hurts." Jim held his hands to his stomach.
"Ah, that's probably from when she booted you in the guts."
Jim gave Marty that What you talking about? look.
"Before she let me untie your hands, she wanted to make sure you weren't faking it – you know, from falling out of the bath."
Jim shook his head, taking Marty's word for it. "Nice lady, huh? And you were telling me how attractive she was? How long we been in here?"
"I don't know my watch is tied behind my back."
"Here." Jim thrust his hands in front of Marty.
Marty looked at the time piece, white face and black roman numerals. "Oh, it's like a regular watch?"
Jim rolled his eyes. "And it says?"
"3:30"
"Good, they've got to be looking for us by now."
"Do you think she moved us far?"
"Only if she has an accomplice, seeing as we were both out cold."
"God, I could use another aspirin. Do you think you can get your girlfriend to pop us one?"
"I can try. Puss? Puss!" Jim called.
The door opened, both men looked shocked at the fast response. Jim said the first thing that came to his mind. "Puss, do you think we could have some more aspirin?"
"Sure thing sweetie," she walked over and squatted in front of Jim with a bottle and the pills. When she saw the way Marty was watching her. Jim got a slap instead.
"What was that for?"
"Your buddy here, Marty is it? He is looking like he'd like to jump me."
"No, he'd never do that."
"You can't see his face, so you'll have to believe me, right?" She watched him closely.
When Jim nodded reluctant agreement she continued. "Well, anyway, I've been doing some homework. You are a very famous cop, Detective James Dunbar. I think I scored big time when I picked you up. Maybe I don't need him."
"Well, then you could give Marty a letter of demand and throw him out; he can go negotiate for you?" Jim's reasonable tone was back and by her expression it was doing its job.
"Hmm." Puss smiled indulgently at Jim. She stroked his hair back from his forehead. "Hold out your hands." She dropped the aspirin in, watched him take it to his mouth. "Water."She teased his hands with the bottle, letting him brush it, then moving it away. She enjoyed the small tightening of his lips as he reaslied she was playing with him. He stopped searching and she dropped it into his lap.
Jim removed the lid and drank, bring up a charming smile to cover his anger. "So, will you give Marty the tape too, or just a letter to take?"
She gave a full throated laugh. "Oh you are funny! No wonder he was laughing when I came in." She grabbed her cigarette pack and lit one up. "I'd offer you guys one but you seem a little tied up right now." She laughed long at her own joke. Jim smiled but Marty just couldn't manage to do even that. She blew smoke in his face. "No, I think I'll keep our Italian Stallion a little longer, but I think you were right all along sweet thing - a phone call with you might get me somewhere." She blew smoke at Marty and poked her tongue out at him.
"I've had the video taken into the precinct that grabbed my husband and I'm going to call them soon. I'll need you to talk for me."
Jim nodded his agreement. "We do what you want, we get to go, right ,Puss?" He held the bottle out and she took it.
Puss tore her gaze from Jim and turned to Marty. Her voice remained pleasant but her eyes narrowed and he smile had a nasty edge. "You need another of these?" She brought two aspirin from the packet and although Marty held his mouth closed tightly she forced them past his lips. She brought the gun around between his eyes. "Swallow." She held the bottle to his lips and tipped.
"Yes, pretty boy, you have my word. That's only fair. Though I'll be sorry to see you go. I think I could have some very good fun with you." She ran a long red nail down Jim's chest. "It's been ages since I saw my honey." She moved closer, inching toward Jim. Marty watched; this could be the moment. There was no way Jim could miss if he went for her now. Marty waited for just the right moment to give the signal.
She turned and held Marty's eyes. She propped the barrel on his forehead again. "Now, Detective Dunbar, I've got my gun on your buddy's head so, don't struggle.
"And you shouldn't think I can't do two things at once." Marty nodded at her, fascinated, repulsed, intrigued.How far would this woman take this?
Confusion entered Jim's eyes. "What –"
"Sh. She put her finger on his lips again and leaned in close. And she planted little red kisses on his face, ignoring his flinch, his stoic visage. "Hmm, nice. We'll play more, as soon as they're sending my hubbie home."
Marty watched as Jim's adam's apple bobbed.
"Now, I don't want Marty here being any more trouble, so I think we'll just restrict him a little more." From a clip on her belt she removed a heavy leather mask with studs and buckles on it. A companion piece to her own outfit probably.
Marty tried to back further into the surface behind him. "No, come on, you don't wanna do that?" Marty could feel his skin crawl in fear.
"You want me to shoot Detective Dunbar?" Smiling she turned the gun on Jim and pressed it neatly to his temple.
"You won't, you just said he's your ticket."
She gave Marty a really big smile. "They might even think faster if he's bleeding a little, don't you think?" She moved the gun from Jim's head and pointed them at his hands. "I can see it in your eyes, you think he's useless now, do you want to see how disabled your buddy is without his hands, Detective Russo?"
Marty's eyes darted from Puss to Jim. Jim wasn't smiling at all, the blood had drained from his face but he was silent. His head turned slightly from Puss to Marty. He said nothing, leaving the call to Marty just like they had planned. If she moved the gun closer. If Jim felt the barrel, maybe he could grab it and together they could overwhelm her, tied up or not. She had been fast before, at that range, one shot and Dunbar would be fucked.
Puss enjoyed the doubt so clearly running accross Russo's face. She licked her lips and a smile escaped. "I have seen what a gun like this can do to a beautiful pair of hands. So strong now." She trailed a blood red fingernail over the back of Jim's hand. "Would you like me to show you?" She cocked the gun. Marty could see Jim's rising tension, he was ready, all Marty had to do was make the call and Jim would move. Marty would get out of this okay but Jim ... "Answer me."
"No, I don't want to see that. I'll wear the mask." Marty forced himself to sit still as she secured a black leather hood over his head. It covered his eyes, had no holes for his mouth and only small holes for his nostrils. She pushed his head down and his reflexes made him push back. She stopped and he heard a clunk, the safety of her gun being released? He let his neck go limp in clear surrender. She tightened the mask with buckles at the back. Marty found his breath became hard to catch and panic began to bubble.
"Now, Marty boy, don't get agitated, a very good friend of mine once asphyxiated himself with one of those by getting a little too excited."
"What are you doing, Puss?" Jim felt something brush his mouth and smelled a fresh mint smell as she stroked a kiss on his lips before leaving.
"Now I've got two good boys here. I'm going off to make sure the drop off is set up nicely. Back soon."
The door slammed and the locks clicked. Jim could hear the sound of Marty breathing rapidly. "Marty? What's she done?" Then struggle, Marty rolling on the floor, muffled sounds.
Marty realized there was no way he could get this off alone. He stopped struggling.
"Marty, what's she done? Taped your mouth?"
"Mmmmm." Marty got on his knees and poked his head into Jim's chest. Jim raised his hands, and searched the mask. He grimaced as he felt the covered eyes, the covered mouth. Small buckles held it tight at the back; he undid them but didn't pull it right off.
"Marty, if I take it off, she'll notice and I think she's getting unstable. Can you breathe enough with it loose?"
"Yes," Marty's voice was muffled, "can't see."
Jim loosened the mask further. "Shit. We gotta get out here, this is getting worse." Jim hopped to the door, colliding with it but managing to stay on his feet. "The door; it opens out?"
"Yeah, out."
Jim started knocking it with his shoulder "Do you think together we could break it down?"
Marty recalled the door in his memory. Internal - probably. "Possible." Even he could barely understand his word. "Maybe" He tried to enunciate through the hot and sticky leather.
But before Marty could even get into position for them to try, the door opened and Jim pitched forward landing awkwardly on the floor at Puss's feet. "Here, pretty boy, let me help you up." She hooked her hand under his arm and helped him to his feet.
This was the moment; Jim took a breath, as she helped him rise he brought his tied hands up and over her head and down around her torso, pinning her arms to her side. The gun went off, and chips of tile spat up from the floor beneath them. Jim wrenched her off her feet, and spun her ninety degrees to whack her into the door. The gun landed heavily on the floor. "Marty?"
With the gunshots ricocheting in the dark around him, Marty felt helpless, frozen. He didn't know where to go, what to do. Had anyone been hit, what was happening? he fought to sort out the sounds surrounding him, adding tohis claustophia. He could hear Jim struggling with someone, the woman was cursing. Jim must have the better of her.
The panic subsided, Marty kicked the ropes from his feet and stood. Arms tied behind him, head covered in leather he stood and listened, tried to get his bearings. All he could hear was the struggle at the door, even that was muffled and indistinct.
He swung his head around to dislodge the mask, soon his mouth was clear and he could see downward but he couldn't get his arms untied and couldn't pull the mask off. "I'm okay, hang on I'm coming." He dragged in deep breaths of fresh air.
Moving forward Marty could see Jim's still tied legs and the woman's feet several inches above the floor. She was cursing and kicking at him, his shins must be blue by now. Marty moved and found the gun, he kicked it further away.
"Jim, I need your help to get this mask off all the way. I'm going bend down, you pull it off."
"Yeah, go ahead." Jim reached out behind her back.
With his head, Marty found her shaking shoulder; he placed it between her shoulder blades on the cool, smooth leather and ran down her back until he found Jim's hands. Her increasing struggles were making it hard to keep in position as Jim sought a hold on the mask that would allow him to lever it off.
Jim squeezed his arms tighter around her to lessen her movement.
"You're killing me," she wheezed.
"Sorry, Puss, I need you to hold still for a minute, then it won't be a moment longer, don't struggle." His tone was sincere and she ceased her struggles. With her still, Jim found the ties at the back of the mask and undid the remaining few swiftly.
Marty felt enormous relief as the mask came off and fell to the floor, he felt like he could move again, like he was free. He gulped in fresh air and shook his head. Puss began her struggles with renewed vigor. Jim continued to stand, holding the woman in the black leather close to him, off her feet, Jim's head tucked in under her chin. Their blonde heads close together, it was hard to tell where one began and the other ended. Marty started to laugh. "Oh, Jim, I wish we had a picture of this!" Puss lifted her head and turned, sending Marty a glare that would strip the paint of an automobile. It left the grin on Jim's face uncovered for a moment.
Marty found himself sharing the expression. He never thought he'd be happy to see Dunbar's face but he was. "Jim, can you hang onto your girlfriend for a minute longer while I go find a way out of these ropes?"
"Sure, Marty." Jim's voice was muffled. "Come on Puss, can't we just stand here. You know struggling won't help now? If you're real good I can try and see if you can see your husband before you go to jail."
"He'd kill you if he knew you had your face buried in my chest."
"You going to tell him?" Jim asked in an innocent voice.
Marty ducked out, chuckling. He didn't really want to see what pain she would inflict on Jim next and he was sure Jim could handle it.
In the next room Marty found their belongings, his gun, their badges, radio, phones and Jim's glasses. There was also a knife among her belongings and he managed to get the rope cut and off his hands. He rubbed his wrists, and called out on the radio.
Walking in to release Jim, Marty found him perched on the side of the bath with Puss unconscious in his arms, her mask off and a thin line of blood running down her forehead. "Wow, Jim, she's a looker." She looked quite peaceful, and that costume was very… artistic, the way it clung and gaped. "What did you do? Squeeze her to death?"
Jim smiled and raised his head, an identical line of blood running down his forehead and in between the red kiss marks on his face. "No, she made the mistake of trying to head butt me. Mine's harder." Marty though he'd better not mention those kiss marks but couldn't help smiling as he untied Jim's bonds. "I spoke to the boss, Tom's alright, lost a bit of blood but it's a flesh wound. The lieutenant and Karen should be here soon."
Once freed of the ropes on his hands, Jim kept hold of Puss with his right arm under her and used his left to check her head where they had hit and then looked for a pulse. It was hard to find in the costume, so he brought his head to her chest. He smiled as his fingers finally found skin and it was warm, he didn't want to be handing over a corpse.
"Here they come." Marty looked up.
Jim cocked his head. "That doesn't sound like…"
Suddenly the room brightened as flashes went off and Marty turned to see several reporters snapping shots and one running a video. "Detective Dunbar, can you tell me her name, what happened?"
"Oh shit." Marty jumped up from where he had knelt to free Dunbar's ankles. This would not please the boss.
Jim's mouth pulled into a tight line. "Marty, could you…?"
"Already on it."
Marty got between Jim and the reporters, he moved them back out of the small bathroom and shut and bolted the door. "Here." He lifted the unconscious woman from Jim's arms and placed her into the bath. "She's really out cold." Jim removed the ropes from his ankles.
Marty handed Jim his glasses and a wet handkerchief. "Ah, you better clean you face up, you've got blood and …"
"And what?" Jim asked as he scrubbed at the cut on his forehead.
"Ah, you know those kisses?"
Jim shrugged.
"Definitely not budge proof."
"Oh, shit." Jim scrubbed harder.
Moments later there was a commotion outside and then a knock, "New York PD, open up."
"How's my…"
"Looks fine now." Marty waited until Jim had popped his glasses on and moved away from the bath. Then he opened the door. "Hey guys, nice to see you, she's in there." Marty showed his badge and pointed at the bath. "Come on, Dunbar, let's go find Karen and the Boss."
He pushed his elbow into Jim's arm as he'd seen Karen do. "Thanks." Jim was taken aback. "This means we're buddies now?"
"I wouldn't go that far, Dunbar, but let's just say, you weren't the worst cop to wake up in a bath with after all. And don't go quoting that. I'll just deny it."
Jim nodded and they headed out both grinning widely. Who'd have thought?