Chapter Five: FINALLY FACE TO FACE
1446 Words
Nico and Jess sit in front of the cop car, staring blankly down 49th Street.
Nico blows out the single candle on the cupcake.
"Even on a terrible day like this, you still celebrate her huh?" Jess looks at him in surprise.
Nico does not look back at the cupcake. He keeps his gaze fixed down the Street, jaw set like he bites down on words.
"Especially a day like this. I never miss a year."
Jess blinks.
"Alexandro, maybe one day you tell me what this girl meant to you."
He shifts his weight, one hand rubbing his well-muscled thigh. He looks through Jess with those piercing eyes.
"Maybe you get to meet her," he says. "If she's still alive, I'm sure you meet her."
"What happened?" she asks.
Nico's broad shoulders tighten, then drop.
"Terrible things I am ashamed of," he says. "But it's all in the past. Hopefully I get a chance to make things right."
Jess' voice comes lower.
"Is that why we are here?"
Nico looks down 49th Street. He lifts a small telescope from the backseat and raises it to his eye. He sweeps it toward distant lights that signal a celebration happening. Gold flash colourful lights.
These people throw parties on the bodies they buried. He grimaces.
Jess shifts closer, "Alexandro, we are here against orders. It is not safe for our jobs."
Nico lowers the telescope slowly.
"I don't care, Jessica."
"Whoever this girl is, I don't think she is worth our job."
Nico turns sharply to her. His eyes lock on hers.
"She isn't just worth this job," he says. "She is worth my life. And if I ever get the privilege of laying it down, I'd do it without blinking."
The words hang. Jess's mouth opens, then closes. She swallows.
"Wow," Jess says. It comes out flat.
A look of jealousy crosses Jessica's face. Jess's gaze drops to his mouth, then back to his eyes. Her lips part. She leans a fraction closer, like she is about to risk everything.
Then the radio makes a sound.
"Report at 200th street…. re… report coming in at 200th, APB, do you copy?"
Both of them look at each other. Nico reaches for it first and picks it up fast.
"Yes," he says. "Answering for 200th Street. Everything looks good here. Over."
The voice on the other end crackles. "Reports of significant gunfire coming in, over."
Nico's eyes stay on the distant celebration.
"Must be some teenagers with firecrackers," he says. "Nothing significant."
"Sergeant Alexandro," the radio says, sharper now. "Where are you? Over."
Alexandro swallows. His jaw flexes. Jess grabs the radio out of his hand.
"Out for some doughnuts," she says, bright enough to sound fake. "Heading back down to 200th street now."
Nico reaches for the radio. Jess snatches it out of his reach, drops it into its cradle, then turns to face him squarely. Her expression is hard.
"If you are serious about finding this girl," Jess says, "you keep your job. This is the only way to find her as fast as possible. So hit up those brakes, let's move it."
Nico's nostrils flare. He knows she is right, so he does not argue. He puts on his seatbelt, turns the ignition, and zooms off.
Nico fumes as he drives off, gripping the steering wheel too tightly.
He zooms far and past the Blackthrone mansion.
"When I get my hands on those bloody teenagers," Nico mutters, "they are going to feel my wrath."
Whatever this is, he needs to deal with it as soon as possible and get back on track to finding Lucy.
He hits the accelerator down to 200th Street. The cop car's taillights vanish into the night.
***
The Slayer watches the building from across the Street. She is dressed head to toe in a black coverall. Her mask sits snug against her face, only revealing her eyes.
The Street looks quiet, almost forbidden. The best uncover for dealings.
"200th street. Looks like there's nothing to see here".
Under the shadow of the night, she moves.
She crosses the Street with measured steps, quiet and sure. Broken glass crunches under her boots as she enters the building described to her. The entrance is cracked open, as if someone wants her to come in. The air feels too still. No footsteps. No voices.
From behind her mask, she feels it's eerie. It feels desolate.
Not only that, it feels too easy, like a trap. Xenia's eyes scan the corners, the ceiling, and every angle. Her breathing stays slow.
Suddenly, gunshots emerge from the dark.
The first bullet slams into her chest. Another hits her shoulder and then her side. She falls hard, her shoulder hitting the floor.
The element of surprise.
Terrific.
She lets her body go limp. She lets her head roll to the side and holds her breath. She keeps her eyes half shut, lashes low, dead enough to sell it.
Feet draw closer with caution. They want to see if she's breathing. This is always the fun fact of an ambush. The moment they think they have won.
It wouldn't be the first time Marcel tries to have her killed.
"I will definitely smash his brains in the next time I see him," she thinks to herself as she takes a momentary nap.
One of the gunmen moves closer and touches her pulse. His fingers press too confidently, like he enjoys being the one to confirm death.
"Yeah," he says. "He's dead. You can call the boss."
He.
Xenia almost smiles behind the mask.
Hiding her identity as the Slayer is easier when people assume she is a man.
As they let down their guard and turn away from her, she gets up without a sound.
"Hello boys," she says.
What a way to surprise the surprisers.
They all turn in shock. They lift their guns too late. That's all the time she needs.
She moves inside their range, too close for their guns. She hits the one man's throat. He drops, choking on nothing. She takes his gun and shoots the second man in the knee. Another rushes her with a knife. She catches his wrist, then uses his momentum to pull him into his own knife. His body jerks, and he drops.
A bullet grazes her arm. She ignores it.
"1, 2, 3…" Her voice stays calm. "Hmm. He made more effort this time. Impressive."
One by one, she slays all ten of them. The last one crawls toward the door, leaving a smear behind him. She steps on his spine and ends him with a single shot.
She begins the tedious task of removing the bulletproof vest she wears. She tugs it free and tosses it aside.
She is glad she put it on at the last minute.
You can never trust a Blackthrone.
Footsteps.
She crouches low behind a broken pillar. Footsteps. Two people. One behind the other. They are light on their feet, almost imperceptible. Meaning they are professionals. They edge closer. A flashlight beams in her direction.
Her shadow jumps across the wall.
One comes closer for inspection.
Xenia lunges.
A struggle begins. The flashlight drops and spins on the floor, beam flickering across the dead men and blood. The figure moves like a woman, strong and trained, stance balanced, punches clean—a worthy opponent.
If they had time, they would have had a chit-chat.
But there's no time for that.
The woman's fist catches Xenia's jaw. Xenia takes some blows to encourage her fellow woman.
Xenia absorbs it and gives ground on purpose.
Then Xenia catches her hand mid-swing. Xenia's other hand slides to the small blade hidden in her tracksuit.
She stabs four times. The woman staggers backward, hands lifting to her torso, trying to hold herself together. Blood pours between her fingers. Her knees wobble.
The Don is right.
She is his weapon.
The other figure screams.
"Jess no!"
A man.
Xenia turns her head and sees him frozen in the doorway's shadow, his eyes locked on the woman collapsing.
What was he doing?
Standing there watching the fight?
His hand goes to his gun. He draws it up, arms stiff, finger tight on the trigger.
"Jess," he says again, smaller now, like he cannot accept it.
Jess falls on her back. Blood pools under her. Her eyes lift toward him for a second. Her lips move. No sound comes.
His face hardens.
In a fit of anger, he turns to face Lucy.
Nico keeps his gun raised. Lucy keeps her blade close, hidden in the line of her body.
They stand face to face, both ready to kill.
- Writer
