Continuation of the first part established way, way back in Ch 25. Still in the timeline between SR2 and 3.

To sum up: Troy's found in the trunk of V's car. He obviously doesn't belong there, and now she wants to know how and why he ended up there to begin with.

"Evening."

It had been a while since V had seen Gryphon's secretary. The young woman held herself in the same prim, nervous manner she'd used from the start, and it took a few seconds for it to register in her mind whom she was looking at.

She paled almost instantly. "Ah. This is a surprise."

"I want to talk to Gryphon."

"Mr. Gryphon's in the middle of a meeting right now, so I could try to pen you in for a time-"

"Nice try Jean, but I don't give a shit if he's busy," V said with a smile. "It's important."

"Maybe I should- ma'am? Ma'am!"

She dropped the phone as V pushed right on by, whistling as she went. The shove she gave to the doors wasn't gentle, and they slid open to a room of reps. A few she'd seen before, the rest scowled or stared at her with various forms of indignance.

Gryphon, however, didn't seem fazed. "This is...sudden."

"You know me. Wild card." She stalked over to the conference table's edge and put her hands down. "Clear the room. I think we need to talk about a few things."

"Do we?"

"It involves an asset of yours, so yeah. I think we need to have a little chit chat."

Gryphon caught the hint in her voice. The edge that almost had her pitching a chair towards the window. Her mood was nowhere near as frayed as it had been earlier, but a continuous tension had settled over her, leaving her coiled and ready to react to the slightest trigger.

He could see it. It was up to him, however, to decide how much blood he wanted in the water.

The others left when he ushered them out, and V didn't move, not even to stretch, until the doors creaked shut. Gryphon approached her carefully after that. His head was held no higher than normal, but she could read his caution. It was something he kept up at all times, but now it was tangible. Easier to spot.

Good.

"How much do you know?" she asked. "Straight up, and not any of the shit you allowed them to play on the news."

"I understand that Chief Bradshaw was admitted to the hospital under suspicion of being attacked."

"And?"

"And that he's in safe and stable condition as we speak. If I had to make a wager, I'd say the attack was personal."

Her laugh wasn't even remotely warm. "Did you come to that conclusion before or after you found out about our little delivery?"

"Does it matter?"

"Yes, it fucking matters, because it was that damn easy. Any other end to this would've left you with one dead chief and half the department up our asses, and I'm sure that would've been great for Ultor to weather. Both of its most important assets trying to gut the other? That would've been rough," she sneered. "Though I must say for a place that prides itself on being prepared for damn near anything way to go. He slipped right through your fingers without so much as a thought."

"I see where this is going. Shall we cut to the chase, Ms.V-"

"Boss," she cut in. "Don't even try to use that name here. You've got cameras either inside his place or out. I want to see what happened."

"We're already looking into the issue."

"Good, because I want it. Everything you've got. They wanted our attention? They've got it. Besides, what's the harm in an extra set of helping hands?"

"Helping?"

"Yeah. It's better than the alternative."

It wasn't a threat, but Gryphon's unamused expression told her he caught the meaning. "I think we can help each other as well. Wait with Jean and I'll have someone get you what you need."

The file wasn't bad. For something that had been slapped together on an implied promise of defenestration it was thorough, and she was surprised at how much information was already there.

She had been right about the cameras, and begrudgingly admitted to herself that without them they wouldn't even have a quarter of the info present. They would've been waiting on Troy to recover, and even then there was no guarantee he'd had a good look at them.

The scattered photos weren't all clear, but they told her what she needed to know. Troy had left early, or tried to as the time stamp specified. That was his routine, and V tried not to think about the times she'd punched the hell out of his clock just to get it to shut up.

Everything else seemed normal until the moment he'd tried to get into his car, and when she flipped to the following photo where three men had grabbed him, her grip on them tightened. She let go before the crease in the photo became a tear, and continued through them all until the car they'd stuffed him into had vanished from sight.

License plates had been pulled, and a few close ups of the gang's half-covered faces had been included, but no names had been paired to them yet. They had a list of people that might fit the description, but without a match they would have to narrow them down one by one.

She did notice something interesting, however. The colors. Red and black. The idea of the Brotherhood trying to twist the knife again put her teeth on edge, but their look didn't entirely fit.

Carnales, maybe? Shit. Both could fit. I don't see either of them wearing tats for either, unless this is some other set of assholes trying to step in. Motherfuckers would pick red.

One comment did point out the possibility of a 'gang-related disturbance' near the factory district, and that had been one of the Carnales' stomping grounds. Maybe there was more to her guess than she'd thought.

She put the folder in the passenger seat of her Venom and pulled Shaundi's number up as she backed out of the lot. She picked up right as V skidded onto the road, and V tried to keep her tone light. "Hey hon, how's it going?"

"I'm not turning up too much right now, but I will say that the chief hasn't exactly gotten on a lot of people's good sides. It's kind of impressive."

"He has a way of pissing people off. What can I say. Anyone standing out?"

"No single person, but as I was searching something major occurred to me. Do you have any idea what's coming up in a week?"

"A week?" She zipped through her schedule, then the Saints', but blanked. "It's a blur right now, Shuandi. Care to share?"

"Ultor's honoring Monica Hughes for her 'contributions' to Stilwater's good fortune. Something along those lines. We haven't been asked to attend, but our behavior's 'appreciated'."

"...And having one injured chief on our doorstep sure isn't that, is it?"

"I think you've both pissed a lot of people off."

"It's a talent. Anyway, get Pierce and see if you both can meet with Ultor and Hughes to smooth that out. Maybe even offer protection." She paused. "Damn, I think Hughes must be rolling in his grave right now. Anyway, I think Gryphon's blocked most of the news on this mess and the old PD, so we should be clear for now. Any word on the chief?"

"No, nothing new yet. What about you, boss? Got anything?"

She let out the breath she'd been holding, but not entirely. No news might've been good news, but that didn't stop her from wanting more than that. "I've got some information from Gryphon that I'll be stopping by to hand over. They've got plates and names, so let's see if any of them match up. Also, photos. The fuckers had some guts, I'll give them that, but I'd rather tell them that in person. See you soon."

Shaundi hung up, and she was in the process of entering in Johnny's number when her phone went off. "You've got great timing."

"Why?" he asked. "Miss me already?"

"You know me, got to get my daily dose. Hey, feel like a trip down memory lane?"

"What kind?"

"A short one. Let's just say that the lead I've got might make it worthwhile."

After the first place turned out to be a dust-filled bust, V decided it wasn't going to be so short after all. Johnny tried to get her to shrug her frustration off when she refused to loosen her death grip on the steering wheel, but it didn't want to give up the fight just yet.

Gat turned on the radio to a random station, and she waited a minute before switching it to K12. "Probably shouldn't have called it so soon. I think I jinxed it."

"We'll keep looking. If they're part of Angelo's leftovers there's only so many places they'll run to."

"I know. We've got plenty of areas to hit, and local favorites to go through, and I'm...I'm cool."

"Sure?"

"Yeah," she said, taking in a deep breath and exhaling it slowly. "Ice cold."

He didn't say anything else for the rest of the trip, and V tapped her fingers on the wheel along to the beat to distract herself. The song carried them all the way to their destination, and when she saw the boarded up Brown Baggers she almost couldn't believe it was the same place.

"Ready?" Johnny asked.

She pulled into a spot down the way from the building and nodded. "Been ready since the last stop, man. Let's clear it."

Any concerns about needing to hide or keep suspicion off of them faded when they didn't find a single car outside, but the cracked door on the front made them draw before heading in.

It had the traditional layout of your local BB. The spot for the cashier, the now-empty liquor stores, and the off-limits employee area. To anyone walking in the door that would've been enough to clear the place of suspicion, but the real prize was behind the white door. Johnny motioned for her to open it, and when she tried the handle and found it unlocked, she counted to three before shoving it open.

Johnny's shotgun swept the area, and when nothing jumped out or started shooting, he motioned for her to follow.

Behind that door was where the place showed its true colors. On the outside the brick had been left relatively bare, but red crosses and elaborate writing swirled across the walls in impressive arcs.

She kicked a rock with her boot, and it clattered off of the side of an upturned pool table. The building had to have been hopping back in its heyday, and she wandered over to the wall to trace a finger over the letters stating who owned it. It didn't even come away stained.

"Damn. I had high hopes for this place too."

Johnny lowered his gun and rubbed the back of his neck. "You weren't the only one. They said close to the factories, right?"

"Yeah, old Carnales territory. Though I'm surprised this is even standing after all of this time. Ultor was so set on fixing this place up, but they definitely missed more than a few spots. These things could almost double as relics."

"Cops probably hit it after we fell apart. Anyone else would've thrown this shit out and started over."

"It would be cops," V muttered.

He turned to her, and she found it tough to look him in the eye. "How bad is this?"

Her arms fell to her sides, and she felt exhausted. "If we're talking old grudges then there's only three people that really need to worry, and two of them are here shooting the shit, no problem. The other's in the hospital. It's not great, I'll tell you that."

"V."

"Johnny."

"You talk to him lately?"

She didn't mention the dinner a few nights back, or the call she made while she was holed up and worked up in her office during his lunch break. She wasn't ready to talk about that yet, and felt the minutes tick by while Gat not-so-subtly stared her down.

Hiding it almost seemed stupid at this point. Johnny could read her like a cheap travel brochure, but she wasn't ready. Not yet, and after how she'd acted earlier her stubborn streak made her keep her mouth shut as she fished for a safe answer.

"Pierce and I met up with him a couple of weeks ago to go over a few things. Business, bureaucratic red tape nonsense, the typical stuff we have to do to play nice with the city, yadda yadda, whatever. It was a lot of the same, but...shit." She ran a hand through her hair. "The damn thing with Hughes. Guess we went over it after all. Fucking great."

"How the hell do you know it's not Hughes?" he asked, sounding skeptical. "Don't matter how much shit she paid Saints to spray. You change your mind, you change your mind."

"It's not a bad guess, but I'm not feeling it. She'll stir shit up, but I don't think she'd want the press related to this one. On the other hand, the Carnales lead does feel too good to be true, eh? A bunch of guys wanting to raise their old flags high years after some assholes blew Angelo all over the tarmac? If only."

Dex's driving had saved them that day, but the grateful feeling that came with the memory had faded a long time ago. It'd been a while since she'd thought about putting a bullet in his head, though. Longer than she'd expected.

"God, I wish Dex had dealt with even half of this shit. Bastard cut out at the right time. ...I hope his ears burn to the point that they catch on fire."

Gat chuckled. "Ah, that'd be great. Course we'd miss it, but it's something."

"I'd gladly take something over least it'd be more than this! God, where is everyone?" V stomped off towards the rooms in the back and threw more of the trash aside as she picked her way through. "No money, no weapons, nothing. Unless they're moving around on purpose this isn't making any sense."

"Think they'd know we'd follow?" she heard Johnny ask.

"Fuck if I know. Ultor traced them here and said they'd been in the area long enough to raise eyebrows, but for all I know this is just one of many places for them to fuck around until the heat dies down." She kicked an empty beer bottle and felt her temper begin to flare again. "You'd think they'd leave a bigger trail."

"Yo, we're only at one place. You think they'd be that sloppy?"

"No. Wish the fuckers were, though."

A sound boomed from the main room, and her head shot up. Gat's shotgun was already raised as he motioned for her to wait, and she crouched down as low as possible.

They hadn't bothered to close the doors behind them. It was careless on their end, but V had all but given up on getting lucky tonight. Maybe now was their chance.

She couldn't see where Johnny was focusing his attention, but when he opened fire, she made sure to cover him fast.

Flashes of red dotted the doorway when she darted forward, throwing herself behind the upturned pool table. Bullets whizzed her way, and she checked her person for anything other than her handguns. A Freckle Bitch's receipt and pocket lint stared back at her and she tossed them aside. Her knife was good, but in a firefight like this it'd only get her clipped.

"Trusty Kobra it is." She hefted the pistol and took a quick shot at the person closest to them. All were covered in various degrees of red, but the one she popped in the knee was distracted. He went down with a scream, and V picked at another before ducking down.

"The fuck was that?" she heard Johnny ask.

"I'm running on fumes, Gat! So sue me."

A shotgun blast tore off the corner of the table when she poked her head around, and a chunk of rotten wood flew by her face. In response, she ducked down lower and drew a bead on Mr. Shotty's arms. It took two, but they both hit their mark, sending the gun off to the side.

She turned back only to jump when Johnny threw himself into cover next to her. "Better."

"How many left?"

"Four. Might be more, but they're not even bothering to spread out."

"You almost sound insulted."

"It's fucking easy, that's what it is."

"Jesus, Gat-"

Glass shattered against the table, and when the spark caught she grabbed the collar of Johnny's jacket and yanked him away from it. He let off a few extra shots before she pushed him into the only cover they could find, and felt the adrenaline kick back in with a jolt. She'd needed it badly, and the wide grin spreading across Gat's face didn't hurt either.

"That's more like it."

"You're hopeless," she breathed, starting to smile herself. "And you weren't the one about to get your hair singed."

"After half the shit you put in it, I'm surprised it didn't go up at all."

"Hey, step off. It likes feeling pretty." She kept a hand on his chest as she glanced out over the smoke, and had to squint to make out the slightest hint of movement. "Fucking smoke. It's giving them too much cover. We've got to flush them out or at least clear a way to the front. Dammit, what's a girl gotta do to get a grenade around here?"

Johnny slapped a new mag into his gun and laughed. "All you gotta do is ask."

He reached into his pocket and pulled one out, flipping the pin off to the side. The pitch went right for the direction of the door, and she heard scattered yells before slapping her hands down over her ears. It was a good call, because the sound that cut across them was loud enough to make her ears ring.

Gat slung an arm around her back to shift her closer to the wall, and broke away as soon as she blinked up at him and gave a thumbs up.

Then she darted after him, and it was all too satisfying to get the drop on the first son-of-a-bitch to cross her path. She didn't even waste a bullet as her elbow went right into his nose, and she spun on her heel to sweep his feet out from under him. Her gun was up when she entered the room connecting to the front, and picked off the others not currently engaged with Johnny.

The last ran for the main door and V prayed that Johnny wouldn't run her down by accident as they sprinted after him. He had the legs to beat her, but that didn't mean that she wanted him to.

He made it through the doorway first, and she swore as she tried to keep up. Her boots skidded on the pavement when she saw someone behind the wheel of one of the junkers out front, and raised her weapon as she let out a shrill whistle. Two pot-shots weren't enough to stop a car already in motion, however, and she scrambled to dodge it as it careened forward.

It was a snap choice with snap consequences. Seemed like a good one at the time too, up until the point where the car scooped her up and sent her flying into the windshield. It felt more like a brick wall than glass as it slammed against her back, and when the pavement met her face it was only insult to who knew how many injuries.

Her arms screamed when she used them to raise her body up, but her left folded when her eyes refused to focus. Panic took over as she panted against the ground, and she went rigid when a sound went off behind her.

It took more than a few minutes for her to realize she was still breathing. That her vision had started to settle. It didn't really kick in until someone flipped her over, and her pathetic excuse of a fist slapped against Johnny's cheek.

"Ow, did you just slap me?" Johnny's face was close enough for her to pick out the frown, but it didn't last.

The blood on his shirt stood out the most, and she tried to ignore the tang of it in her mouth. She felt him feel along her arms and ribs, and felt sick only when he got to her shoulder.

"Motherfucker," she coughed. "That piece of shit's a lot faster than it looks. Give me a sec."

"I don't think you broke anything. Almost thought your arm was out, but you're moving it. How's your head?" Her fingers twitched and he laughed when she flipped him off. "Heh, figured as much. You're fucking lucky you didn't bust anything on me, because then you'd have to pay for it."

"Your ugly mug, or your glasses?" When he offered his hand she let him pull her up. The slower speed helped, but she couldn't stop the swoon that hit her when he tried to get her off of the ground. "Slow down. Do you want me to throw up all over your shoes?"

His comeback was muffled as she breathed in and out, trying to right herself. It took time, but soon enough she felt solid and steady. Something that was at least marginally capable of walking and talking. Or at least she thought she did before she let go of him and swayed.

"Uh, V?"

He took her arm and she held up a finger. "Almost there. Not quite human again yet." She spat the blood in her mouth out, and wished they'd kept a bottle of tequila in the car. She was going to need it later. "Damn, I am rusty. Used to take cars better than that."

"You're still standing, so that's better than most," Johnny said, refusing to let go until she was able to walk without weaving. "The fuck were you doing running after him, though? I had it."

"Sure you did," she muttered, brushing him off. "You're hovering, man. I'm fine."

He took his hand away and she made the rest of the journey on her own, pausing only to take in the body on the ground by the car. Johnny hadn't left much to be recovered, and she lightly shook her head as she crouched down to check his pockets.

"Anything?"

Johnny was way too tall for her to glance up properly at the moment, but when she held up the ID he took it. "Could be. We'll see if his name rings any bells or matches what we have. Fucking shame that none of them made it. Could've picked up some good info here."

"They started it. Not our fault if we finished it."

She reached up and Johnny helped her stand. "Better luck next time, I guess. Might as well make the most of it before the cops show up."

"Clear them out one by one? Better be ready to get your hands dirty."

"I've got pavement and my own blood splattered on them right now. I can handle a little extra-"

The man that held himself up in the doorway didn't notice them at first. V almost didn't remember him either, but the red running down the front of his shirt from his nose made him stand out with almost shocking clarity.

And when he did finally see them, both she and Johnny were grinning like sharks.

"Gotcha."