Chapter 5:
Jake turned the key in the ignition of the small, beat-up car. It sputtered and died. He sighed, pulled the key out, and picked up a screwdriver.
"Give it up," Chance said. "It'll take years to fix that hunk of junk"
"It'd go faster if you gave me a hand."
"Are you crazy? I'm not doing anything for that…that…" he crumpled a soda can and tossed it against the wall to prove his point.
"If you say so," Jake said, rolling back under the car. "Jeez, this thing's a mess!"
"Tell me something I don't know," Chance grumbled, working on a black sedan. "We should do them a favour and turn it into scrap metal."
"We can't do that!" Jake said, pushing himself out from under the car. "It was her mother's!"
" 'It was her mother's!' " Chance said mockingly. "I'd like to tell her mother a thing or two about that – "
"I don't think they're related," Jake said quickly.
"Yeah? Why not," Chance asked, doubt oozing over his voice.
"You're just being ridiculous," he said, rolling his eyes.
"Whatever," Chance growled. "Is that the claxon?" He cut the sedan's engine.
"Holy kats!" Jake yelled, throwing down his screwdriver and skidding over to the claxon. "Miss Briggs? Miss Briggs!"
"Razor!" Callie's voice was rough and clouded by static. "Razor, we need you guys over at city hall – there's two she-kats here tearing up the place. They've got guns!"
T-Bone landed the Turbokat on the roof of city hall. "You ready buddy?" He asked, opening the cockpit.
"You bet," Razor said, grinning.
Inside the building, a perfectly normal day was falling to bits. The lobby had been barricaded; no one could leave. Everyone was lying on the floor, hands crossed over their heads, except for Callie, who was hiding in the stairwell, waiting for the SWAT Kats to arrive. Numerous times she had heard gunshots and screaming, and female voices shouting orders.
"Miss Briggs! Miss Briggs, are you there?"
"Razor?" she whispered into the walkie-talkie/panic button. "Where are you guys? All hells broken loose over here!"
"We're coming in from the roof. Where is everyone?"
"The lobby," she whispered.
"We'll be there in a second."
Callie sat in silence, listening hard for anything from outside. She heard heavy boots outside the door and pressed herself closer to the wall, trying to hide herself.
"I think I saw one upstairs when we came in," a voice said. "I'm gonna go take a look."
Callie panicked and slid quietly into the shadows under the stairs, creeping into the darkest corner. She was sure no one could see her here – or, in the least, she hoped harder than she had ever before.
The door screeched open and someone stepped in, humming a jolly tune. Callie couldn't see her, but she could feel her as she walked closer, her boots thump-thumping on the cement floor. The sound became uneven as she climbed the stairs.
Callie breathed out a silent breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding.
The footsteps stopped. A gun was cocked.
"Who's there?" the she-kat asked in a singsong voice.
Callie stayed absolutely still, not moving a muscle….
"I know you're there, I can hear you breathing," she said. When she didn't get an answer, she started climbing down the stairs.
Callie held her breath.
"Pussycat, pussycat, won't you come out and play?" she recited as she climbed down. "Pussycat, pussycat, where are your friends, to-day?"
Callie squeezed herself more tightly into the corner. She knew this rhyme, everyone did.
"All of them gone and off to their beds," the she-kat dictated, speeding up. "Time now to rest their furry heads."
Callie pulled her legs closer to her, making herself as small as possible.
"Pussycat, Pussycat, go say your good byes," she said more softly as her boots hit the even ground.
She knows she's close, Callie thought. She squeezed her eyes shut and focused on making herself as quiet as possible.
"Because sooner or later, everyone dies."
Callie felt cold metal against her head.
"Hello, pussycat."
Callie screamed.
Seven floors up, T-Bone and Razor heard the yell. They sped up, thundering down flight after flight.
The she-kat pulled Callie out from under the stairwell and shoved her into a cushioned chair in the hall.
"And what's your name, love?" the she-kat asked, leaning against the wall, gun resting against her thigh.
Callie didn't answer.
"Right then. Not the chatty sort, I see. I'll start. Name's Riot. You're turn," she said, pointing the gun at her head.
"C-C-Callie Briggs," she said quietly.
"Little Miss Briggs, is it?" Riot asked, putting up the gun. "Why don't we all join our friends in the lobby?" She grabbed the collar of Callie's jacket and yanked her towards the heavy wooden door. Callie purposefully stumbled and fell, buying time.
"Oh come now, Briggsy!" Riot said, yanking her to her feet. "It's ever so much easier when you do as your told."
"They'll get you," Callie said angrily. "They're on their way now! You won't get away with this!"
"Quite the contrary, love. It's them who won't be getting away."
Razor found Callie's purse in the dark corner under the stairs. "She's gone," he said, stating the obvious.
"They must've got her," T-Bone pointed out, though it was already blatantly obvious.
Razor dropped the purse and stood up. "Ready?"
"I was born ready."
Riot shoved Callie to her knees on the ground. "Lie down, hands behind your head," she instructed. Callie complied, assuming said position, crossing her legs so no one could see up her skirt. Beside her, a woman and her little girl were huddled close together, the little girl in silent tears.
"Don't worry," Callie said, "the SWAT Kats are on their way."
A gunshot resonated through the room, ringing off the walls and bouncing off the ceiling. "Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears!" Riot said in a thick cockney accent. "Rather, lend her your ears."
Jazz jumped up onto the receptionist's table, a small pouch tied around her waist. She gave a dramatic bow, and began to speak. "It looks like the guests of honour have finally arrived!" she said, pulling her gun out of its holster. She pointed it towards a narrow hallway; the one Riot had previously led Callie through. "Welcome, SWAT Kats."
T-Bone and Razor hurled themselves into the room, charging the two girls at the far end.
Riot fired a round in their general direction; they hit the floor as Jazz reached into her pouch and took out three bell shaped bombs. She threw them into the air, smoke seeping out the top, quickly clouding the whole room with a chocking fog thick as a London morning and stinking of sulphur.
The whole room erupted in choughs and sputtered cries.
Razor lay crumpled on the floor, gasping for air. He couldn't see T-Bone, though he was sure he had been right beside him. He tried to open his eyes, but they stung from something in the smoke – he couldn't say what. His throat was dry and constricted – he couldn't have called out if he had wanted to.
He lay on the floor wheezing, trying to draw in a half-decent breath. His vision began to cloud, growing black around the edges, and he saw a masked she-kat hovering above him, pink bangs falling over her eyes. She smiled, and started to lift him up by the shirt – and he passed out.