Disclaimer: Janet Evanovich owns the rights to the following characters. This story is only intended as artistic exercise. I am in no way profiting financially from it.

Warning: This story is intended for adult readers only; contains graphic violent content, mature themes and adult language.

This is a Babe story, and will have and eventual Babe HEA.

Breaking of Souls

Chapter 11: Perfecting the Craft of Murder

Previously …

Movement from the shadows caught her attention; a lumbering form creeping along the perimeter of the house to the porch steps. The figure turned its head, a white puff of breath steaming into the brisk night air as it scanned the vicinity of the empty front yard.

She gasped in terror, seized by a fear so intense that she struggled to breathe, starring at the unmistakable profile of Derek Cain.

Ranger spun around, the hair rising on the back of his neck as he felt the sudden drop in the air pressure around him. The faint "click" of the front door closing had him moving stealthily towards the farthest wall from the door, securing his back, training his gun on the empty doorway. He listened to the intruder's soft footsteps approaching, pausing just outside of the entryway. Ranger's eyes followed the movement through the wall, staring unblinkingly at the spot where the noise stopped. The distinct sound of a jacket being unzipped, followed by the soft rustling of fabric carried throughout the room.

Ranger stiffened as a daunting figure came into view. Time seemed to slow in anticipation as Derek Cain stepped through the threshold. Ranger's heart sped at the sight before him, tension hanging thickly in the air. Metallic water pipes, bound together with black electrical tape, were strapped across the width of Cain's chest. Ranger's eyes followed the black wire trailing from the primitive bomb to the trigger clutched in Cain's left hand, his thumb perched precariously over the red detonator button. The flesh of his hand and wrist were oozing and charred with angry red burns, the tell tale signs of an amateur bomb maker. Images of Iraqi suicide bombers flickered through Ranger's mind, the horrific flashbacks causing beads of sweat to pool on his brow. He had witnessed firsthand the destruction caused by a "Shaheed Belt" explosion, the kill zone encompassing nearly one hundred yards in diameter.

Ranger mentally calculated the distance from where Cain stood to the car where Stephanie slept at the curb of the street. He swallowed the lump of fear in his throat as he realized that she was too close. The frame of the car would provide little cover from the blast, the equivalent of hundreds of shotgun shells being fired simultaneously in multiple directions. The shrapnel, consisting of steel ball bearings, screws, nails and bolts, would tear through the aluminum body of the car like a hot knife slicing through butter. His stomach plummeted, fluttering sickly with the horrific possibilities.

Ranger's eyes shifted to the revolver clutched in Cain's right hand, the presence of the weapon telling him that his intention was not to commit suicide, though he would resort to it if he had no other means of succeeding in his goal. This small reprieve offered Ranger a glimmer of hope. His life in exchange for hers was a price that he would most willing pay. He would gladly take a bullet before provoking Cain and risking Stephanie's safety.

Ranger let his gun slip from his grasp, the metal clanging loudly on impact against the oak wood floor. He raised his hands slowly in surrender, his eyes never leaving Cain's face, accepting his fate. Surrender … the concept was so foreign to him that he couldn't quite wrap his mind around it. A warrior laying down his armor at the feet of an enemy was more painful than death. He felt as though he would explode from the rage boiling within him; a violent desire so extreme that it clawed at his insides, frantically seeking release. He would give anything to kill Cain with his own bare hands, ending his miserable existence; anything in this world … but the cost of her life.

Cain chuckled, pointedly circling his thumb around the detonator button. "I see that you're familiar with my little device, Manoso. It's amazing what one can create with the most basic of tools, isn't it? But, then again, you didn't expect me to come unprepared, did you? You should have known better. You've spent nearly a decade perfecting the craft of murder. This," he said, vaguely gesturing towards his chest, "Is merely an insurance policy."

Ranger stood, silently cursing himself for not recognizing the robberies as a set up, and for walking blindly into an ambush.

Cain laughed, the haunting sound deranged and chilling. "Just figuring it out, are you? It was simple, really … almost like going fishing, you bait the hook, release what isn't worth the effort to kill, and eventually … you'll catch the right fish.

I paid a couple of strung out kids to break into any home with a Rangeman Security logo displayed in the windows, tripping the alarm, stealing whatever was within their reach to substantiate the burglary. And all I had to do was sit back and wait. Eventually, given enough opportunities, you would inevitably respond to a call."

Cain cocked his head to the side, his hollow crazed eyes flitting wildly about Ranger's face. "How does it feel for the fisherman to become the bait? Realizing that you've been deceived, lured in under false pretenses, knowing that you're about to take your last breath before being gutted and consumed?" Cain puzzled aloud, morbid curiosity evident on his face.

It took a herculean effort for Ranger to stay rooted into place, his entire body quivering with barely suppressed aggression, a toxic hatred coursing through his veins. He called upon years of training to school his features, keeping his face impassive, praying that death would greet him before his legendary control snapped.

Stephanie sat gasping for breath, rocking back and forth in her seat, one word repeatedly escaping her lips. "N-no … No, please No!" She shook her head, viciously fighting to regain her composure, her fight or flight instincts battling with one another. She reached forward with a trembling hand, pressing the button for the Rangeman operator on the dashboards security panel.

"Rangeman, this is Hal." Stephanie flinched as Hal's deep voice resonated throughout the car.

"H-Ha-Hal?" She stammered, the word sticking to her tongue.

"Bomber? What's going on—where's Ranger?"

"It's Cain—he's here! He's in the house! Oh my God … Ranger's in there—I've got to help him!" She fumbled clumsily with her seat belt, frantically reaching for the door handle.

There was a split second of silence over the line before Hal's voice boomed throughout the car, steady and commanding. "Stephanie, I need you to stay in the car. Do you understand me? DO NOT get out of the car! We are on our…" his voice trailed off as she stumbled from the car, his words not making sense in her mind. She walked woodenly through the front yard, scaling the porch steps, opening the front door as quietly as her shaking hands would allow.

She crept down the hall, cringing as the floor creaked beneath her feet. She doubled over, heaving violently, her body's conditioned response to the familiar smell of oil and tobacco. She strained to remain silent, the pounding of her heart thudding in her ears. She wiped her mouth with her sleeve, her body trembling uncontrollably as she stood on rubbery legs continuing down the hallway. She could hear Cain's voice, the gravelly timber sending shivers down her spine, grating on her nerves. "You've taken something that belongs to me, twisting and defiling it into an almost unrecognizable mess. YOU have been the obstacle all along … a poison infecting her mind. Once you are eliminated your fraudulent claim to her will be broken, and she will praise me for freeing her from your sinful presence."

She stood with her back against the wall, muting his words, focusing on slowing her erratic breathing. She turned her body, peeking through the open door. She froze in horror, her eyes widening in shock as she digested the scene before her. She stared at Cain's back, her mind registering the bound mass of metal rods and wires as a bomb; his wide frame blocking her view of Ranger.

She whipped around, bracing her weight against the wall as her vision spun dizzily. She steadied herself, searching for a way to help Ranger. Her mind cleared; she knew what she needed to do. She had trained for this moment, with hundreds of sleazy men, in every filthy bar in Trenton. Tonight would be her ultimate distraction job, their lives at stake as bounty.

She took a steadying breath, forcing her body away from the wall. She turned, entering the room; Cain whirled around, both men's eyes snapping in shock to her face. She threw a disdainful look in Ranger's direction, her lip curling into a disgusted sneer. She turned her gaze to Cain, smiling seductively. "What took you so long, Derek?" She cooed her lower lip jutting out into a playful pout. "I thought you'd forgotten about me."

Cain stared at her in astonishment, his eyes raking down the length of her body. "No … NEVER," He vowed, his skeptical gaze clouding with hope.

She smiled radiantly, her eyes trailing down his arm to the revolver in his hand. "Good …" she whispered, "Because I've never stopping thinking about you, hoping that you would come to my rescue. I- I've missed you," she stuttered forcing the lie from her lips.

A slow sadistic smile of triumph spread across Cain's face, his eyes narrowing into dark and lustful slits. "I've missed you too. I hoped that you'd come to your senses and realize that our lives are intertwined by fate. You belong to me, forever." He sucked in a shaky breath as she approached him, their bodies a breath away. She trailed her fingertips down his arm, his body shivering under her touch. "Let me show you how much you mean to me," she husked, wrapping her fingers around the gun in his hand. His grip tightened, eyeing her suspiciously. "Please," she whispered looking up at him through her eyelashes.

His face displayed the internal war raging within him. His dead eyes tightening as he carefully read her expression. "Alright, but if you're fucking with me … I PROMISE that you'll regret it." He reminded her of the consequences by deliberately caressing the detonator in his hand.

Stephanie lowered her eyes chewing on her lip thoughtfully. She looked up into his face, her blue eyes wide and pleading like an innocent child. "You don't trust me?" she murmured the hurt evident in her voice.

"Trust is earned," he hedged thrusting the gun into her hand. "Kill him. Prove your loyalty to me above all others," he demanded, a hint of manic hysteria leaking into his voice, nodding his head in Ranger's direction.

Stephanie shrugged a shoulder impassively, "Not that he means anything to me, but I'll do it, if you want me to."

She took the gun, stepping in front of Cain, looking into Ranger's eyes. She prayed that he could see the love and desperation shown in hers. His eyes widened slightly as he read her intentions. Freezing in place, he held his breath as he planted his feet in preparation. She raised the gun, her thumb pulling back on the hammer of the revolver, the "snap" of the gun being cocked reverberating against the walls. She willed her hands to steady, sighting in on his chest, just inside of his arm, six inches below his collarbone. She steeled herself, her index finger running along the length of the trigger, pleading silently for his forgiveness.

Ranger's eyes, though fierce and controlled, conveyed his understanding. She fought to control her shaking hands, terrified of hurting him. She hoped that he would forgive her, that he would know that her actions were forged from deepest devotion of love. A memory sparked in her mind, Ranger's velvet voice echoing in her ears. "I have a unique ability to make decisions in a split second that will save lives; and, in order to do that my emotions play no part in that process. In those situations, if I spend even a moment to second guess myself, to reconsider my actions because of the emotions and feelings of others … a lot of lives would be lost … including my own."

She raised her eyes to his, with her back to Cain she mouthed the words "I love you" to him, pouring as much emotion as she could into the gesture. She rid her thoughts of everything but the task at hand, forcing her emotions, fears and concerns to the back recesses of her mind. Her resolve solidified, she squared her shoulders, steadying her hands.

Ranger nodded infinitesimally giving her permission "Please, Stephanie … You don't have to do this," he begged, playing his role in the charade, knowing that this was their only chance of survival.

Stephanie laughed sarcastically, focusing on the target ahead. "I'm afraid I do." Never taking her eyes away from his chest she pulled the trigger.

Ranger stumbled backwards from the impact, the air forced from his lungs in a "whoosh" as he crumpled to the floor, writhing in pain. Her eyes snapped shut, swallowing the bile in her throat, forcing the image from her mind.

She turned around slowly; praying that the smile on her face concealed the horror raging within. She couldn't allow Cain to get a good look at Ranger, knowing that the lack of blood would give away his bullet proof vest. She closed the distance between them, running her hands down the sides of Cain's face. "I love you," she whispered, the lie stinging like acid on her tongue. Cain's lusterless amber eyes widened slightly, fluttering in anticipation like a shark about to feed.

She leaned in, circling her arms around his broad shoulders, still clutching the gun in her right hand as she pulled his head down to meet hers. She felt his initial hesitation, cautiously gauging the authenticity of her actions. She felt his reservations crumble, unconsciously releasing the trigger in his hand, wrapping his arms around her waist. He kissed her hungrily, a groan of ecstasy slipping past his lips as she plastered her body against his. She ran her left hand up the base of his skull, gripping his hair, yanking his head back away from hers.

Confusion flickered across his face as she quickly raised the revolver to his temple and pulled the trigger, the impact propelling his body sideways into the ground, his rigid arms forcing her down with him. Her teeth slammed together as her head cracked against the wood floor. A sharp pain accompanied a blazing white light; darkness seeping in from her peripheral vision, like ink bleeding onto a blank canvas, painting her world in black.

TBC …

*So … what do you think? Please review ; )

*Thanks again to my wonderful beta Ryl!

*Wishing everyone a safe and Happy New Year!

Jen