SESSION 9

The evening wind swirled loose papers in the alley's only flickering lamp. A stray cat arched its back and issued a dire warning as two shadows broke the shaft of dim light.

With his head down, Spike ambled toward the back door of the warehouse with his hands in his pockets, his shoulders slumped. He counted each determined beat of his heart. Out here in the open he resigned himself to the gamble. The only chance he had of not being glimpsed by a syndicate informant lay in how damned difficult it had been for him to find the White Tiger's last bolt hole in Tharsis, Spike's last task before his dramatic exit from the Red Dragons two weeks ago. He smirked to himself at the thought that he should have told someone about it before he left. But, recent activities severed any sense of loyalty he'd had. The White Tiger's attempted infiltration of Tharsis city was the syndicate's problem now, not his.

Or, so he'd thought. Beside him, Jet craned his neck as he searched the grime frosted windows for motion. His fingers gripped the hilt of a Walther P99 at the ready.

"Spike," Jet hissed, "you just gonna walk right in there?"

He barely broke stride. "Yep. No point in sneaking in when they already know we're here."

"All the more reason not to!"

Bending down, Spike picked up a rock and tossed it in his hand a few times, gauging the weight as he peered at the facade of the building. "Look, if you want to catch this bitch, this is how you do it." A faint shadow shifted behind one the panes. Spike grinned mischievously and shut one eye before hefting the rock into the air.

It crashed into the filmy window and revealed six men gathered with gun-muzzles at the ready. Spike waved at them. "Right. Jet, keep 'em busy."

Jet started for a second, "What?" It was all the time he had before a bullet struck the ground beside him followed by a series of others. He rolled behind a metal barrel and cursed Spike before returning fire.

Spike couldn't help but hear the rebuke as he dashed along the side of the building, his eyes focused on a half broken pane of glass. He accelerated and crashed through shoulders first, rolling onto the floor. Amidst the gunfire and confusion, none of the silhouettes followed him. The ruse had worked. Too bad it hadn't occurred to him years ago when he'd been sent to burn out the Tiger's other house. Of course, he'd also been cocky enough to go alone. No one to play the patsy and draw the fire. Not like this time.

Slinking up the dark stairwell, he headed for the fourth story keeping his steps as quiet as possible. There was no sound either up or down. A curtain of yellowed light spread out on the fourth story landing.

For a moment his hand reached back for his gun. He hesitated. The corner of his eye caught an old broom. He unscrewed the head and spun the handle like a bo staff. The balance was slightly off, but it would do.

Drawing back, he rammed into the door with his foot, avoiding the doorknob as he destroyed the entire frame. A blue spark flared into the air as the wired trap disconnected. In a tumbling roll he came up, bo in a horizontal swing.

THUCK! A small throwing knife embedded itself into the wood, inches from his fingers.

Reclining in the desk chair, Topaz flashed her teeth beneath a cascade of wavey raven hair. "Ooooo look who it is," she cooed, "didn't I kill you years ago, little Dragon?"

"You tried with an epic failure." Spike smiled plucking the blade from the staff. The experience much better than it had been pulling the blade from his leg the first time they'd met. "Rather like me. Except in my case, you weren't my target."

"Awww. But I so enjoyed sharpening my claws in you." She flexed her fingers. "For once I had a bit of a challenge. And now, I get it again after dealing with nothing but common grade syndicate mince-meat I get served a prime grade cut. This is going to be juicy fun."

He ignored her taunt, focusing on her eyes, watching for the tell. "Let's make this simple. Where did you put the sonic relays?"

"The what?" She rolled her shoulder with coy expression. Her hand lifted and he spotted the flash of a green light. The bloody remote.

"I know what you're up to."

Her grin intensified. "All I have to do is press this button and the entire Red Dragon empire will be reduced to grains of sand blowing in the wind. The Van are in the tower, my eyes have told me as much. Go ahead take one more step and I bury everything you ever cared about."

Spike gave a short bark of a laugh and took two steps forward. "Go ahead." Bury them all … he paused for a moment. Mao. What if Mao was in there? Shit …

Topaz leaned forward, her finger hovering over the button. "What was that? Where did your bravado go? Come on, you great blustering windbag. I shredded you once. I will do it again."

Wait for it … patience, Spike. He held back, tossing the blade in his hand with a casual flick. Her eyes. In the golden brown iris's he glimpsed her starvation for a fight. All he had to do was bid his time.

She set the remote down, and crawled forward onto the desk. "You really don't learn, do you." She rolled her fingers in a slow grip over the edge.

Spike braced himself internally, slouching back. "You know what they say about tigers … "

Topaz cocked her head. "What?"

"They can't change their stripes," he laughed.

She chose that moment to lunge forward. Holding the blade, Spike punched at her in a lightning strike. The sharp metal raked along her arm as he danced out of the way, completing the spin with a sweep of the staff at her feet. She reeled back and landed on her ass.

He flashed a wry grin. "But a dragon does better. We can shed our skin!"

Topaz growled and leapt forward, two savage short blades in her hands. "You think you're funny, don't you."

With a windmill flip of the staff, Spike deflected her strikes before sticking his face to the side of the makeshift weapon. "No. I know I am."

She responded exactly as he hoped she would, lashing out. Every strike had its telltale signal giving him time to draw her in, tighter and tighter. Short blade or not, he was determined she would not get through his guard this time.

"What?" He blocked her, smashing her hand in the process. One blade spun to clang across the floor."You don't think I'm funny?"

She cursed and shook her hand in the air. "I think you're an asinine joke!"

"Oh good." He leaned into her and was rewarded with her scramble backward. "The practice is paying off!" He ducked down and smacked her legs out from under her with the staff.

Enraged, Topaz rolled away from the assault and came tearing back at him with a wild series of swings. This time Spike was ready for the barrage of kicks and punches. He deflected each one as she threw it. Her openings grew sloppy and wide as her ire rose. This time, she hadn't been in the power position. Spike had made sure of it. Even if she knew he was coming—this time he knew she was there. And he used her goading tongue against her.

"Damn, how did you manage to beat me before?" he laughed. "Seriously. Who took your claws?"

She snarled and reached back preparing to swipe. "I'll show you claws!"

And there it was! He dropped the staff and grabbed her wrist as it came in, neatly sweeping to the side and redirecting her into a flip. He slammed her down with a bone-shattering crack! When she looked up from the floor it was up the muzzle of his gun.

She gave him a venomous glare. "I should have stayed around to make sure you were buried after the explosion! Do it, pull the trigger!" She reached out for the end of his gun.

Spike stood stock still. Alive. She's worth more alive.

Topaz clawed at his gun and screamed. "To think, I'll be done in by a Red Dragon!"

"No! You won't!" Before he even knew it, in a surge of rage, his finger pumped the trigger. His shot plunged straight into the side of her neck. She crumpled to the floor into a pool of scarlet.

The cock of a gun behind him triggered the reflex. He spun and drew a bead.

It wasn't one of Topaz's flunkies. His Jericho pointed directly at a baleful Jet.

Shit!

See you, Space Cowboy!