Thursday evening
South Wabash Avenue and East Adams Street
"Have you no shame, girl?"
"I'm hungry..."
"You eat too many of those and you won't fit your suit!"
"Fuck you, Trojan!" Wildcat laughed as she dug into her quarter-pounder.
It was dark and very cold, so Wildcat had decided to pay a quick visit to the nearby McDonalds intending to get a coffee, but instead she got food! Couldn't blame her, but for a vigilante to be stuffing her face with a cheeseburger...
"Wildcat finished stuffing her ample gob, yet?"
"Negative, Psyche – she's still cramming it in!" I replied – Psyche was on duty at Safehouse F in the Control Centre.
There was a muffled 'fuck you' from Wildcat as she battled to swallow her mouthful.
"It is remarkably peaceful, though..." I chuckled.
"Look you two assholes – Psyche, I'm gonna kick your limey arse and as for you, Trojan..."
The middle-aged woman rose from her seat as the train pulled into Adams/Wabash station, just as it did every night on her way back from work.
As soon as it stopped, the doors opened and she stepped out onto the platform. The woman was the only person on the platform at that time of night. She hated it when she was alone; she felt extremely vulnerable, just as any woman might – it was not the best place to be at night...
Then my heart skipped a beat as two men walked up the stairs leading from the street – I turned toward the other set of stairs, but two more men blocked my exit. There was a click as a knife was unsheathed – I began to shake as fear coursed through me.
The man with the knife – seemingly the leader – approached me, just my luck to be mugged. But then, everything changed very quickly...
..._...
The man behind the leader – he seemed to fly backwards and I heard him crashing down the steel stairs. There, standing on the side of the stairs was a Chicago Vigilante – she was short and she wore body armour with a mottled brown effect. She smirked as she jumped down onto the stairs. The leader span around, his eyes wide. The other two men moved closer to support their leader, however they both yelled out in pain as both had their legs kicked out from under them. One man had a pistol placed to his forehead, the other the point of a large sword to his neck.
Their attacker was another short vigilante – in a suit made up of greens and browns. The woman recognised him as the vigilante known as Trojan. The leader dropped his knife and raised his hands as Wildcat came up the stairs. She was much shorter than the woman had expected – younger too.
"Knees!" She growled and the leader sank to the steel walkway.
The woman was shocked, but awed, when Wildcat deployed the claws from the gauntlet on her right hand. She placed the razor sharp tips against the man's neck.
"You interrupted my burger..." she growled. "I was enjoying that burger, too..."
Her partner looked over to the woman.
"You okay?" He asked.
"They never had a chance to do anything... Thanks."
"No problem, ma'am."
West Columbia
"Stop right there, young lady!"
"Gimme a break! I just put down two cunts and I..."
"Dollar – jar!" Marcus growled.
"Your bedroom is a tip – it had better be done before you leave for school in the morning, or you are grounded from everything!"
"Mom!"
"Get to it, Megan..."
"Out that door, I'm a respected and feared vigilante – in here? No respect!" I growled as I dug into my pocket and pulled out a dollar bill.
I tried to add it to the overflowing jar on the kitchen side – Marcus was using a one-gallon jar which he had jokingly said was bigger than what Mindy had used and should be plenty... I turned to Mom and Marcus.
"You're gonna need a bigger jar..." I grinned cheekily.
"She's worse than Mindy..." Marcus growled, throwing his hands into the air. "I never thought I'd ever hear myself say that about anybody..."
The following morning
Friday
1714 West Grace Street
The young woman strode down the street and stopped outside the apartment block.
She casually examined the building before walking down the alleyway to the east and equally casually glanced up at the apartment on the 3rd (top) floor of the southeast corner of the apartment block.
Six minutes later, the woman entered apartment 3E.
Apartment 3E
"Nice!"
"You in?"
"Leon is in, Hit Girl!"
"Any trouble getting in?"
"The alarm was state-of-the-art, as I would expect for a CIA-based Safehouse, but I've had some experience with them – besides you said that you wanted her to know we had visited."
"Yes, I did – have fun!"
..._...
The kitchen/living room was combined. There was a nice red couch and arm chair, with a square table and four chairs in the corner with nice views. The kitchen had a small balcony facing the south and was well equipped. It was obviously the home of a young woman – it was tidy, but there were also signs that the woman was a teenager. There were several dirty dishes piled in the sink, a typical sign of teenage laziness.
There were no photos in the living room – that was out of place. People always had at least one picture of family or friends... I hit the jackpot in the master bedroom. Hidden behind a panel in the back of a built-in wardrobe, was a small cardboard box. Nothing significant, just a few photos and keepsakes. One photo stood out, it showed a small girl – maybe eight-years-old – with her parents. She was smiling and cuddling her father – an obvious daddy's girl.
I felt sick to my stomach when I thought about Stephanie, and now this little girl, traumatised into becoming killers – Foxtail, like Stephanie, had been an innocent little girl when she had been taken. She obviously felt for her loss – going against established protocols by keeping artefacts from her past life in evidence.
Maybe that meant something.
..._...
I checked every drawer and cupboard that I could find. She had good taste in clothes and along with some school uniforms, I found clothes that were obviously intended to make the girl seem older than she really was. There was also evidence of her being in the 9th grade, which would make her about fourteen, rather than the sixteen that Stephanie had estimated.
The bathroom was clean and relatively tidy – the girl was on her period, evidenced by the contents of the rubbish bin. There was the usual kit, toothbrush, toothpaste – condoms? It was an unsealed pack; one was missing... Under the sink, I also found evidence that she probably did not have a steady boyfriend, not to mention some spare batteries.
She lived alone, that was also obvious.
..._...
I headed downstairs to the basement – the apartment had allocated storage according to Marty's checks. I found a large steel lockbox – it was fairly obvious what required that kind of storage! I looked out back and found Anne-Marie's phone, exactly where she had left it. My eyes went wide at the sight of her wheels.
The motorcycle was all-black, just as Stephanie had reported. The BMW R 1200 GS Triple Black was one mean machine. On the back of the machine, on either side, was a standard aluminium pannier, both of which were empty.
I was jealous!
That afternoon
West Irving Park Road
"Why are we sitting in a car, on a stake out, on our day off?"
"Because we have orders, Sam, and the lady who gave the orders is scary!"
"Chicken!"
"You try saying no to a homicidal teenager!" Paul Murphy laughed.
"Hold on! Target is exiting the building and heading east along West Irving Park – now turning south down North Leavitt towards West Byron."
West Byron Street
"Target has turned east onto West Byron..."
The Iceberg White Ducati Multistrada moved off from the curb and headed east. Cathy Bennett smiled as she got a good look at the young girl walking down the street. Despite her normal reservations about kids getting hurt, that bitch had tried to kill Stephanie and Anne-Marie.
"Enjoy your visitor tonight, bitch!" Cathy muttered as she turned her motorcycle right onto North Hoyne Avenue.
North Lincoln Avenue
"Target is heading southeast on North Lincoln..."
I studied the girl, her face especially, as she walked toward me and then past me – I pictured that face when seen through a sniper scope.
"She doesn't seem all that special, does she?"
"No, Mathilda – she does not, but she is a clear and present danger," Mindy replied as I dropped the gearbox of my BMW X3 into gear and moved off, northeast.
"The circle of life... Fancy a coffee?"
West Grace Street
The Ford Focus was uncomfortable, but I only had to tolerate it for another few minutes. I turned east and saw my target as she passed beneath the 'L'.
"Target is almost home..."
"Thanks, Dave – we'll take it from here..."
I watched as the blue Ford stopped and parked up, fifty yards short of Foxtail's apartment. I ignored Paige as I drove past. Beside her sat Cathy; she had parked her Ducati up a side street and would stay with Paige.
They were in a dangerous location, so close to Foxtail's home.
North Ravenswood Avenue
"You did well!"
"Thank you."
We were parked up outside a commercial building and listening to the bugs that Mathilda had left in Foxtail's apartment. We heard her enter and turn on the TV – a music channel by the sound of it. Then we heard an exclamation.
"What the fuck?"
"She must have found the cup of coffee I made myself!" Mathilda said with a chuckle.
"Some fuck's been in here!"
Apartment 3E
I was infuriated!
Not only did I have to abandon the fight, yesterday, I had now had my home violated – was it Fusion? They were supporting that fucking Walker girl... How could I fail to kill a fucking nine-year-old? How the fuck did they find my apartment...?
..._...
Fifteen minutes later, I was seething...
On the table before me was a cell phone – no longer functioning! I had also found four bugs – two had been obvious finds and decoys, the other two had been more skilfully hidden, but I had found them.
"I'll fucking kill the lot of them!"
What did it all mean? Was I now being targeted? I would have expected to find myself dead if I were...
North Ravenswood Avenue
"I'll fucking kill the lot of them!"
"She found the decoys!"
"All four – very good – I'm hungry and I have some things to do before tonight's fun!"
"I'll drop you off on the way."
That night
Apartment 3E
I could not sleep.
I was sitting in the armchair, dozing, the suppressed pistol in my lap within easy reach. The clock on the wall said it was a few minutes to midnight and I was very tired. The lights were all off and the blinds were down, that would keep a sniper from tracking me. Every door was locked tight, but I suddenly had a strange feeling and a tingling at the back of my neck.
"Good evening, Foxtail..."
I swear I jumped a mile! I raised the pistol towards the voice and my eyes went wide as my heart skipped a beat – it was her...
Hit Girl was in my apartment, only feet away. She emerged from the darkness into the glow from the TV – I had rarely known fear, but now I was way beyond that. While I was good at what I did – I was not in Hit Girl's league, not by a long shot. I could make out the twin pistols, the twin Katana blades, the Tanto...
Talk about being out classed!
The girl was scared.
I liked that – I could sense the fear and it inspired me. The girl raised her pistol and emptied the magazine into my armour – the nine-millimetre slugs compressed and dropped to the floor, all fifteen of them. I must have shaken the assassin to the core as she fell backwards over the arm of the chair onto the floor, but she rapidly stood back up again.
She moved backwards and I knew why as she span around, seizing her butterfly swords from the windowsill. Mathilda had found them, but I had told her to leave them in place – I wanted a fair fight.
Had it all been a setup – meeting Walker the previous afternoon?
Hit Girl was here to kill me, but she obviously wanted to drag it out – she wanted a fight. I would not let her down; I could not win – but I would fight as well as I could. I brandished my twin blades – Hit Girl smirked as she stepped closer and drew her own twin blades – only they were not Katana swords, but the shorter variant, Wakizashi, which were about a foot shorter and much more useful for a fight in an apartment!
"Are you ready to die, little girl?" She taunted her smirk broadening.
"Are you?" I replied, rather lamely I thought
"Yes, I am – let's fight, Foxtail!"
Her blades moved swiftly and I took the full force of the attack on both of my own swords. Hit Girl nodded her approval – what the fuck was this? I pushed her back, much easier than I thought I could... I drove in with both swords, putting everything into the strikes. Hit Girl parried every one, leaving me panting for breath, but I dug deep as the adrenaline flowed – I needed everything that I could give.
I would give everything I had.
She was good.
I hated to destroy her, but it was her or Stephanie and there was no argument with that limited choice and I had made my decision. Okay, I was a bitch, I enjoyed a good fight – I hated for the fight to end and I also enjoyed a good tease too...
I twisted and allowed one of her swords to strike my chest – it hurt, but did not penetrate. I saw her smile spread, but then falter as I pushed back at her.
I pushed the attack and I drove the point of my Wakizashi into her chest...
Thank God for my armour!
The blade did not penetrate, but I saw how angry Hit Girl was – I had struck her; she had given me the strike to tease me. No wonder she had the reputation as a bitch... I was fully aware that my training had been based on her – she had been killing since she was about five or six according to legend and yes, Hit Girl was a legend in her own time.
To be honest, I felt honoured to be fighting her, honoured that she saw me as a worthy adversary – she could have sent any of her underlings to kill me. Or she could have shot me dead in my chair. Then it happened...
She parried away my swords, one at a time, with such force that I lost my grip on first one and then the other – I was disarmed and helpless. She pushed me up against the wall and I felt tears of frustration build up in my eyes; I had failed and I was going to die as a consequence.
I felt the Tanto as it was pressed against my neck. I looked ahead of me and stared into her eyes – I saw nothing but death.
Hit Girl represented death as much as the Grim Reaper did – only I was more scared of Hit Girl.
It was the endgame.
One gentle push of the razor sharp blade that I held to her neck and Foxtail would be no more. I did not even know her real name – nor did I care. I saw the fear etched on her face, something I had seen many times – it was routine, they always showed fear at the end.
I felt no emotion as I stared into her blue eyes...