I had a hunch, I told Dani. I honestly don't know what I was thinking when I took off. I was tired, maybe that was it.
I was going to find some of those "bad guys" and take them down; perhaps we could get some info that would make our jobs easier.
(Note to self: figure out what to call those guys.) Insurgents? Terrorists? Nevermind.
So I headed out into the street, not knowing where to go. If they knew about Steve they would probably know about me. I jaywalked across the street, and entered a bar.
I was never one to drink much, but I figured it would be a good place to start. And, I figured something stronger than coffee might be comforting. I staggered, exhausted, through the smoke and found a seat at the bar.
After ordering a drink, I opened up a small compact I had. Reapplied my lipstick. I never wore this stuff, really, but it drew more attention to myself.
The Bartender set my drink down in front of me and I took a sip, the red from my lips staying on the glass. Strong whiskey. Good stuff. I downed it and looked around at the other patrons. All male. I saw one in particular who met my gaze. He was scruffy and dangerous looking. He nudged his companion, who was similarly arrayed, and whispered something. They both looked at me.
Turning back around, I smiled to myself. I think I found the right guys.
On cue, they stood and made their way to the bar, each one taking a seat on either side of me.
"Hey, boys," I addressed one. He pretended not to notice, surveying the people around him, but the other one spoke to me without actually looking at me.
"You a cop?"
"Are you?" I asked, shooting him my best smile. He smiled slightly, fingered my glass, and wiped the lipstick off with a forefinger. Hailing the tender, he ordered me another drink.
"You have a gun," He motioned to my hip. To anyone else it would look like he was hitting on me.
I laughed. "So do you." I pulled his jacket away from his side, revealing his pistol. He batted my hand away almost playfully and I saw his gaze wander to a corner of the room. Several uniformed police officers lounged in a booth, laughing and joking. So he didn't want any public trouble.
The drink came. I downed this one like the first. Pushing back the hair from my face, I got right to the point: "What do you want?"
He looked me in the eye this time, and I saw a glint of anger. "We want you out of the way," He spat under his breath.
"Oh, I see," I said as I paid for the drink, "So shall we do this here, or outside?"
The two men stood.
"That's what I thought." I took the first man's arm and he led me outside and around the corner to an alleyway. It was dark and shadowy. Just the spot to hide something.
A van. The man edged me toward it, but before he could usher me in, I spun and kicked him between the legs, and when his grip on me faltered, I decked him in the jaw. He crumpled, and the other man rushed me. I barely grabbed his arm and twisted it, forcing him to the ground. Putting my knee in his back, I held him there and spoke in his ear. "Okay, buddy, you're going to give me information about the bunker." I pulled my gun and put it to his temple. "Or I'll kill you. It wouldn't phase me; believe me, I've killed before and you know what? I like it."
I heard him whimpering under my hold. I cocked my pistol. More whimpering. "I-I no speak English!"
"Come on, if I don't kill you, someone else will. Tell me what you know, and I'll let you live a little longer."
Finally he spoke: "I know n-nothing!"
"So you do speak English?" I pressed the gun in closer. "I saw you and your buddy's ID's, you are high-ranking officials in your little band of insurgents. Now, tell me...! TELL ME!"
"Fine!" he whined. "I'll give you access codes!"
He rattled off some numbers for different systems: security, defense, surveillance, ect. Now, whether or not they were legit was a different story, but on the off-chance, they might work. I committed them to memory, a quality of mine that came in handy. But, my being so busy with this guy, made me forget about the man that I'd only wounded. Temporarily. That was a mistake. I wasn't alert enough, and I knew that whenever my brother found out, I'd be in for a reaming-- for even going out here in the first place.
I was so preoccupied that I didn't hear the whistling of the metal pipe through the air; couldn't duck before the blow connected with the back of my head; before I was knocked out cold on the pavement, and thrown into the side door of that van. The last thought that I had, and the first one I knew I would have when I woke up, was that I was so stupid.
Oh, so stupid.