The meeting was no picnic. The madam, accompanied by two massive bodyguards, bought the escape within the escape story but she was not happy with the City Hunter services.
"I came to you after being told you were the best at your job. Yet you let a frail harlot overpower you?"
"She got me by surprise, Mrs Arthur. I didn't think she would want to flee."
"It's miss Arthur, if you please. And I warned you she would be unstable."
"You did. I just didn't expect she would take so much risk not to be brought back to…"
"To?"
"Well, to you, miss."
The look she answered with was so hateful, it turned her ugly. She crossed her arms and clawed her sleeves out of frustration.
"I'm certainly not paying for your waste of time."
Tony intervened in his capacity of bookkeeper. "Goes without saying, miss." And client relationship manager. "We're terribly sorry about that incident. Nicky will do everything in his power to find your treasure and bring her back to you."
"You have no idea how much money I'm sitting on right now, having the girl free as a bird like this."
Unnoticeable to unaccustomed eyes, Nicky twitched at the remark. Tony took it as a cue to dig here.
"Was she your most profitable asset?"
She grunted, "She would be, if you had done your job."
These conjugation games were enough for Nicky, he got what he wanted. He threw his hands behind his head and laid back in his chair, visibly disinterested in how the conversation would end. The woman, who could possibly not be more vexed, got to her feet and strode to the door, making her heels clack purposely loud. But she suddenly froze in her tracks. She seemed to take a minute to think.
"You two.", she pointed at her gorillas, "Search the flat."
"By what right?", revolted Tony.
Nicky kept his position, but his eyes followed their every move, ready to interfere. The place is minimalist, it didn't take long to go around. All that was left was the master bedroom, behind Nicky. He was breathing slow, concentrating on the movements inside the room. Tony wondered how he could pull such a relaxed demeanour but worked hard at keeping a straight face too. The smaller of the two gunmen pushed the door open and stood in its frame, scanning the dim scenery. From where he sat, Tony spotted the bed: it was empty, the sheets negligently thrown over. After a moment of acclimatation to the darkness, they both stepped inside and rummaged through the closet, the bed and the curtains, only to come out empty handed. The madam growled and headed out before her flock,
"We'll meet again, Mr Larson!", she threatened.

Tony waited for their commotion to recede down the stairwell and rushed to the room.
"Where the hell is she?", he questioned, turning his head every which way.
Nicky chuckled, "Behind the door."
Just then, the thing pivoted on its hinges, revealing a narrow space where the hidden beauty had found cover. Tony stayed dumbfounded for too long because the girl rolled her eyes (a first from many to come) before stirring out of her shelter. She skirted him and walked in the living space. Nicky turned to face her, displaying a genuine smile.
"So, you heard it all?", he asked her.
She nodded once.
"That's a relief.", commented Tony, joining them. "Good thinking hiding back there."
She was checking her surroundings very meticulously, a plain prudence on her face.
"Can you tell us then?" She directed her glare back at the sweeper. "Would you like to go back to Ms. Arthur?"
She shook her head, slowly.
"You don't work for her, do you?", pointed Tony. She shook her head again. "That sick bitch!", he erupted. "She must have seen her with the mobster and thought she'd make a great addition to her coven."
"To be fair", started Nicky. Both the girl and the bookkeeper pierced him with a dirty look. "What? She's absolutely gorgeous, you can't deny!" He turned to his friend for support. "How many men would pay for…" He brought himself back to that cell, and gulped, sickened by his own inadequacy.
She frowned. She seemed troubled that he would show empathy towards her at all, despite his last comment. But she straightened, crossed her arms, and adopted a wary posture. It looked like she was waiting for her fate to be disclosed to her. Tony watched his partner out of the corner of his eyes, not sure what to do or say.
"Let's start with basics: what's your name?", he blurted. She snorted, like that time in the jail, without humour. "Oh sorry, you're right. I'm Nicky. Nicky Larson." He got to his feet and stretched out his hand. "I'm known as the City Hunter."
She looked down at his hand with disbelief, then back up at his face. She tilted hers for a second before gently ensnaring his palm within her lean fingers. He gave her a bright smile, it made her frown more.
"And I'm Tony." He jumped shoulder to shoulder with his friend, and exchanged Nicky's hand with his own. Nicky could do nothing but make a mental note of his buddy's unusual enthusiasm. She let their hands separate and stood there. There was a loooong silence. Before she exhaled and started gesturing.
"Of course.", mumbled Nicky.
"Of course what?"
"She's mute."
Tony pulled that sort of face you do when everything suddenly makes sense. Nicky started signing back.
"You said you didn't!", almost complained Tony.
"I told you I found it fishy she even asked."
He gawked at the silent conversation: she replied to his signs, he signed back and she answered.
"You'll be happy to hear she's not deaf.", he translated.
"Happy to hear. Good one."
"Unintended."
She started signing again, her shoulders raised, giving her an interrogative attitude. Nicky furrowed his brows.
"We don't want anything from you."
She signed.
"Well…"
His expression was incredulous.
"What? What did she ask?", and before he could get his answer, "You'll need to exchange a lot more info here, pal. There'll be shortcomings otherwise."
"She wants to know… why I took her out."
The two frowning men goggled at her and Tony stuttered, "To set you free?", an unsure end to his phrase.
Her eyes were ping ponging from one face to the other. She closed her eyes and shook her head again, in visible denial.
"But that's true", assured Nicky, "I was tasked with getting you out of your kidnapper's grasp and hand you back to that evil woman. But since you've got nothing to do with her…"
The rim of her eyes was getting moist and her lower lip slightly trembled. She signed.
"No. We're no one's owner."
One more gestured question.
"Yes. You are free. Free to do whatever you want."
He pronounced that last sentence word by word, like it was difficult to state the obvious. She turned her head towards the picture window facing the front door, physically fighting the tears. She looked nothing but disoriented. One should think freedom only brings elation. But it was far from clear now. She moved to the glass door, opened it and stepped onto the balcony. They tracked her every intention. Nicky gradually got closer. Her motions were poised, almost lethargic, which brought more concern to him than curiosity. By the time she was gripping the rail, he had a foot on the outside too. So that he was able to immediately catch her waist when she gave the impulsion to climb above the parapet.

The flat is the highest of the building. We're talking about a four stories fall here. Nothing to look forward to. Yet she was fighting like a devil to break away from Nicky's strong hold. Physically, there was no match of course. He picked her up disconcertingly easily and, in a single swipe of his arm, pinned her against the brick wall on their left. It kicked the wind out of her, which gave him the opportunity to push her shoulders with both hands to keep her in place.
"Are you crazy?", he screamed.
She lifted an enraged scowl and brushed him off. Tony caught up as they were panting it off, glowering at each other.
"Did she just try to…?"
She started signing like a fury. If there was an equivalent of shouting for sign language, that would be it.
"Calm down!", interjected Nicky.
"What does she say?"
"She says, since she's finally free, she's free to end her misery.", he translated, with the tone.
She still couldn't catch her breath and tears were now welling from her eyes. Nicky noticed how green and bright they reflected the sunset. That helped him compose himself and he brought a hand to her jaw. The contact nearly made her jump: she had never been touched this way, with kindness, and respect. He understood then.
"You've been put through so much. Too much." A tear escaped and came crashing against his thumb. "I get it." She raised her eyes to observe his lips moving, a frown still holding most of her despair in. "But life is worth living, you have to believe me."
That was too much for her. She slid to the ground, hunching her back, and shuddered under her sobs. She was swaying her head, trying to shake off the hope he was instilling in her. He knelt in front of her, placing a hand on her collarbone.
"Nicky, can't we help?" Tony's concern made him smirk.
"Here is the deal." She raised her head in such an exhausted manner, like a tortured soul going in for one more round, but he held his ground. "You give us one week. One. If in seven days exactly you still want to die, I will kill you myself."
"What are you saying, Nicky?", protested his associate.
"It's my job anyway. I'm the best marksman around here. I won't miss you." She sniffed, now interested. "But you give us seven days. And the benefit of the doubt. You play along." She questioned him with a raised brow. "We'll show you. We'll prove you it's worth it. Life is wonderful, just let us show you."
She looked down, contemplative, thinking. There was a raging conflict going on behind her glazed eyes. She sighed. She wanted it to stop. But Nicky knew she had no idea of the true nature of 'it', and he intended for her to see its brightest colours. She looked up once more, sniffed, and nodded timidly. Both men reacted with the warmest smiles.
"Good.", commented Nicky. "So, what's your name?"