"Do we let them come out, trap them inside, or none of the above?" Beth asked quietly as the sound of someone ascending the ladder got louder.
"Good question," Trish answered as she listened, "that ladder's gotta be twenty feet long. How far can you drop and not hurt yourself?"
Is she fucking serious?
"Not that far."
"I figured. How do you feel about you taking two and me taking two?"
"As long as nobody throws me off another building, I'm fine with it," Beth answered.
"Great," Trish said before she ducked behind a nearby car only to pop up a second later to address the woman who was still standing in the open, "you might want to hide."
Fuck
Trish had chosen a hiding spot that was on the back side of the metal hatch. When whoever was climbing the ladder opened the hatch it would block their view in her direction. Beth had chosen a hiding spot behind a car just to the left of the hatch.
The hatch began to open slowly at first as whoever was underneath scanned the interior of the parking garage. When the metal hatch opened all the way it simply leaned back before reaching the limit of the hinges.
No latch, Trish thought, perfect.
The first man to appear was one of the two men from the truck. He crawled out on his hands and knee before unzipping his jacket, his MP5 hanging from the tactical strap around his torso. He did a quick scan around him before he waved his right hand at the next man on the ladder. His eyes stayed fixed on the repair shop across the street as he continued to crouch out of sight. When the second man appeared, Trish waited for him to begin to wave his hand before she stepped out from her hiding place and slammed the hatch closed on whoever was about to climb out. Beth took that as her cue to stand up and take three quick strides before pivoting on her right foot and using her left foot, a technique Master Gao referred to as The Iron Broom, to sweep the left leg of the first man out from under him before using that same leg to deliver a strong kick to the torso of the second man.
Trish's slamming the hatch closed was immediately rewarded with the sound of someone falling from the top of the ladder and impacting someone else further down. So she was not surprised when she opened the hatch again to see two men lying at the bottom of the ladder.
Beth was occupied at the moment that Trish simply stepped into the opening and disappeared from sight, and so could not offer her opinion on the maneuver. Man number one had gone down hard, but was able to get his left hand under him before his face hit the concrete. It was badly positioned, however, and if Beth had had Trish's hearing she would have detected the snapping sound of his radius bone as it fractured near his wrist. Man number two was propelled backward by the kick to his chest before his back struck the car that was parked on the right side of the hatch. As he bounced off the driver's door Beth struck him on the left cheek with a strong right cross and followed it with a spinning hook kick that sent him to the concrete floor where he lay motionless.
Trish realized almost immediately that if she landed on the two men after dropping twenty feet the impact would probably kill one of them, but she wasn't willing to waste all her momentum, so she used her hand grapples on the sides of the shaft as brakes until she felt she was going slow enough to let go and allow gravity to do it's thing. The bottom man had just started to roll the top man off of him when Trish landed on the pair, knocking the wind out of him. Trish rolled to her right and stood up before taking a quick glance at the tunnel that ran across the street to the repair shop. The men must have used flashlights because there were no lights in the tunnel. Trish quickly shifted her gaze back to the two men at the bottom of the ladder.
The man she had struck with the hatch door was out like a light, and his friend wasn't much better. They were both big men, and even Trish had to admit that she wouldn't have fared well if that guy had landed on her.
"Stay down, Bubba," she said to the still-conscious man, "or else."
He had finally gotten free of his friend and had rolled over and onto one knee. He was breathing heavily, and painfully. He was wearing an automatic weapon across his chest, and it had probably broken a couple of his ribs when the other guy, or Trish, had landed on it.
The look he gave Trish when he finally picked his head up enough to make eye contact was a mixture of pain, hatred, and rage.
Trish drew the razor-sharp Tanto from its scabbard at the small of her back and held it out to her side. The small amount of light that reached the steel blade from the top of the shaft reflected off of it and into the face of the injured man.
"Move that weapon and you die, asshole."
They were approximately ten feet apart, and Trish realized that she had made a mistake, though not the mistake that the man in front of her thought she had made. He thought Trish was too far away to stop him from raising his weapon and shooting her. Her mistake was that she had allowed him to think so.
"Fuck you, bitch," he said in a gravelly voice before raising the muzzle of his weapon.
Trish closed the gap in an instant, as her steel blade moved like lightning in an upward arc that began below her hip and ended just below the man's chin.
"Is that any way to talk to a lady?" she asked him, as the trickle of blood from the nick on his neck where Trish had stopped her blade ran slowly downward, staining his olive drab field jacket and dark t-shirt.
He didn't offer anything in reply, but to be fair Trish didn't give him much of a chance as her left hand struck him forcefully on the side of his head.
Beth realized as soon as she turned back to man number 1 that his near face plant onto the concrete floor had injured him. The classic wounded bird pose, his left hand drawn up against his chest either a subconscious reaction to injury or a conscious action to keep it out of the way as he drew a Böker Magnum folding knife from his right front pocket before snapping it open.
Beth drew her twelve-inch long reaction bonded boron carbide blade from her leg sheath, reflexively spinning it and flipping it before taking her final grip. The man was still in a crouch, while Beth stood tall, her long arms and legs responding almost as if they had a will of their own, as the woman clad in leather switched her mind and body into combat mode.
"Let's dance, big guy," Beth said as her face broke into a predator's smile.
He was almost six inches taller than Beth when he finally stood up, and even though he had a broken wing he was still quick, Beth was not surprised when he began his attack with a standard angle 1/angle 2 slashing pattern. Beth chose to not engage immediately, backing and turning to keep her distance as the man began to mix in a high thrust towards Beth's armpit that he turned into a low slash across her abdomen. Beth continued to back away and shift her position, watching him as he continued to make wide slashing motions intermixed with high thrusts and low slashes.
He's not breaking up his timing, Beth thought after a minute, let's see what he does now.
You must learn not to block, Master Gao would say, you must learn to turn your block into an attack. Never give your opponent time to use your block to his advantage.
Beth had allowed the injured man to burn up some energy and adrenaline while she stayed fresh and calm. It was her turn now to call the tune. But first, she had to see if he had been lulling her to sleep, and the easiest way to do that was to step in as he was starting another attack.
His hand was moving upwards again. If he followed his usual pattern, it would be a big movement, his knife almost behind his head before beginning its downward motion. It was right at that point that Beth appeared to begin her step in, her blade thrusting forward. But it was a false step, a half step that turned into a side shuffle just as the man turned his large movement into a short one, breaking his timing finally, his knife coming forward in a quick slash which he turned into a reverse upwards thrust.
But his slash and thrust found only air.
Missed me, asshole.
He was good, but he was in pain, and he was tiring now. And he was fighting with one hand, while Beth still had two.
"I'd love to keep this up, but I have plans for later," Beth said as she drew her second non-metallic, dark gray blade.
Beth began her own flurry of slashes and thrusts then, two blades together or in alternation, as she moved the man left and right but always backward, towards the open hatch and his unconscious partner. One of them would get him first, and what happened after that depended on which.
Fortunately for the man, it was his partner that he found first as he tripped over the man's body. He held onto the knife as he placed his right hand down to break his backward fall, and so had nothing to use to protect his head from the ball kick that struck him between his left eye and ear.
Beth turned in a slow circle but stopped when she saw Trish standing on the ladder so that her waist was just below floor level.
"Don't mind me, I was just admiring the show," The woman in the goldenrod suit said.
"Thanks," Beth said as she extended a hand to help Trish out of the shaft.
Both women turned to look across the street and the large number of emergency vehicles between them and the repair shop.
"I think we should be going," Trish said.
"Good, I have to pee like a racehorse."
Three sets of EMTs were treating the three wounded men. The ESU Sergeant had been struck on his vest just under his armpit, which had saved him from a much more serious wound. The detective from the 4 - 12 shift had tripped and fallen right before being hit in the ass by a bullet ricocheting off an engine block. James Kilik had been shot in the left shoulder, severing the Velcro strap of his vest.
As things went, three wounded and no dead in a firefight with almost a dozen heavily armed men was not bad. It would have been much worse if the four men had chosen to fight instead of run. Three dead perps, four more in custody, and four still out of reach.
"There's a dead-end alley behind the building," Rita said to the ESU officer in charge now that their Sergeant was out of commission, "I don't think there's another way out, but we need to find another way in."
"We'll start checking the neighboring buildings as soon as we can get into them," the man replied just as Rita's phone vibrated in her pocket.
Parking garage across the street. RIGHT NOW, said the text from the blocked number.
"Keep three of your men and secure this site and those prisoners. Everyone else, with me" Rita called as she ran through a roll-up door, navigating a path between all the emergency vehicles until she reached the parking garage.
"What the fuck?" She asked eventually as she looked at the two unconscious men, and the open hatch next to them.
Connie took out her flashlight and shined it down the open shaft.
"I guess we don't need to look in the alley."
"You're sure she got it?" Beth asked over her commas she and Trish walked across 4th street.
"It says it was delivered, and it's the number on the card she gave Caitlin," Julia answered.
"OK, we're on our way back."
"Got it. We'll hang here. There's leftover pizza if you're hungry."
"You guys didn't drink all the wine did you?"
"We haven't opened it yet. We're waiting for you."
"See you soon. Trish is coming with me, so you might want to tidy up."
"You can't let her in here. She'll see everything. She'll see the big board! " Julia said playfully.
"Hilarious."
"Hey, we should watch Dr. Strangelove when you guys get back," Julia replied.
"Jules needs you to pinky swear that you won't reveal the location of our undisclosed base of operations," Beth said to Trish.
"Girl Scout's honor," Trish answered, holding up her right little finger.
"Are those claws?" Caitlin asked as her face moved closer to the computer screen.
"Be there soon," Beth said as she began to remove her long coat.
"Hear, put this on," Beth said as she handed Trish her leather duster, "And take that off," she said as she pointed to Trish's red wig and cowl.
"Fine," Trish said as she pulled her cowl and wig back before covering them, and her suit, underneath the black leather duster.
"Glad I didn't park in that fucking garage," Beth said as she slung her bag over Trish's shoulder before starting her motorcycle, "Don't lose that. It cost me forty-five bucks on Amazon."
"Don't I get a helmet?" Trish asked as she sat behind Beth and wrapped her arms around Beth's waist just as the Firebolt began to move.
"Sorry, didn't know I was gonna have company."
Beth proceeded slowly down 4th Street before turning onto Cooper Square and opening up the throttle. Hers was the only vehicle on the road. Sitting behind Beth, Trish closed her eyes and felt the wind on her face, as the music of the twin-V engine played in her ears.