by Hadena James
“I don’t believe you do. I just wanted to make sure you understood that you were holding these women from their jobs. They are losing money because you are standing here,” he said to me.
“They can take a date while I stand here,” I huffed at him. “I’m waiting for some john to drop off a girl that’s been beaten senseless, so I can prove that I’m big enough to take on a serial killer.”
“Ah, we are doing that tonight.” Lucas rolled the window back up. I heard him shift gears and the SUV pulled away, moving down the street and around the corner, out of sight.
“The customers that beat up the girls don’t drop them here,” one of the women said to me. “They drop them around the block.”
“I know. That’s where Lucas went, to find the drop off. Until then, I’m going to stand here and wait. If we’re really unlucky, one of the pimps will have an issue with it and I’ll have to defend myself from him. If he doesn’t get locked up for a long time for assaulting a federal officer, they tend to take it out on the girls when they come back.” I turned to look at her. “On the other hand, I’ve never had one get out after assaulting me and two have died in the process, so it might work in the girls’ favor. I know we’ve helped two prostitutes this way. I kill the pimps, and the federal government helps them find new jobs. Go figure.”
One of the women started walking away. I watched her go. She stopped at the ringleader. I could guess that all these ladies had the same pimp. I was also betting that he was watching at this very moment, getting more and more pissed that I was losing him business. He’d be out any minute to confront me. I hoped he was just an asshole and not a psychopath. Psychopathic pimps were an interesting breed that didn’t mesh well with my own mental instability.
The SUV pulled back up to the curb. Lucas turned the car off and got out of the vehicle. He pulled on his US Marshals coat as he walked around to me.
“I couldn’t find it,” he said.
“Yes, well, I’ve been here nearly ten minutes. I expect someone will be pissed soon.”
“That’s why I got out of the car. You are not supposed to kill anyone tonight or beat them up.”
“Easy enough,” I retorted, “especially with you standing here. No one is going to talk to me with a mountain at my back.” He’d lost some weight and muscle tone from being burned in September. The skin grafts had made it very hard for him to work out. In some ways, he was still recovering. I was not, but I hadn’t been burned as badly as he had. He now wore a cap almost all the time to hide the scars on his scalp.
“Ace, we should just go,” he told me.
“Absolutely not.” I turned to look at him finally. We’d done this a few times in the past, just to get information. “I will not leave this street until someone starts talking to me about missing prostitutes. I know there are at least two serial killers picking them off and I will catch the sons-of-bitches before I leave this god-forsaken place.”
“If they don’t want your help, you can’t force it on them.”
“Just because nobody else cares that someone is killing prostitutes doesn’t mean we shouldn’t. For crying out loud, prostitutes are still people and serial killers are still monsters. This is what we do, Lucas, we hunt monsters, real monsters, the kind with knives and blow-torches that like to chop people up or chew on them. Until I can catch the jerk setting his victims on fire, I will catch every other serial killer in this fucking city. And if that means I stand here all night, waiting for someone to talk to me, then I stand here all night.”
“If you stand here all night, you’ll get hypothermia again.”
“Well, that will just be one more thing for me to be pissed off about when I do catch a serial killer.” I glared at him. It was irritating to want to help people who didn’t want to be helped because they were convinced it wouldn’t change anything. It was even more irritating that they were kind of right. Other serial killers would crop up, eventually. However, if we could catch those hunting now, it would mean when the new ones did start killing, there wouldn’t be as many killers working to mix up body counts and signatures. These things were the serial killers weaknesses and why they always got caught when we went hunting for them.
“We have company,” Lucas whispered, giving a barely perceptible nod towards the end of the street. It was a car. The windows were tinted almost as dark as ours. The paint was silver. It looked expensive. I yawned.
“You should go.” One of the women gave me a furtive glance. It looked like I was going to beat up a pimp after all. The car pulled to a stop behind the SUV. I had turned to face them, my badge clearly visible. Lucas pushed away from our vehicle, letting his full height and build be visible.
“Your car is illegally parked,” the passenger said as he stuck his head out the window.
“US Marshals,” I informed him.
“It doesn’t matter, you still can’t park there,” he answered.
“Maybe you didn’t understand what I said. United States Marshals Service, Serial Crimes Tracking Unit, we are searching for a serial killer, so we can park where ever we like,” I stated.
“Not down here,” he answered. “Anyone who stops on this street for longer than five minutes is subject to arrest.”
“Arrest me then,” I snipped at him. I tucked my coat back behind the handle of one of the guns in the shoulder holster.
“It’s also illegal to carry a firearm in Detroit.”
“What part of ‘federal law enforcement officer’ are you not getting? Do I need to speak slower? Do you want me to use smaller words?” I asked. The car shifted into park and two men got out. Both were of medium build, but one was tall and the other short. The shorter one was the passenger. He took a couple of steps towards me and showed me a badge. “And?” I asked him.
“We’re Detroit police officers. It is unlawful to have a firearm in the city limits of Detroit and it is illegal to park on this street for longer than five minutes.”
“You’re an idiot,” I corrected. “If you attempt to arrest me for either of those offenses, I will Taser you and arrest you for impeding a federal serial crimes investigation. Do you need me to make that clearer for you? Would you like me to write it down or something?”
“Ma’am, you and your partner need to get in your car and leave,” the taller one said.
“It’s US Marshal Cain,” I informed him. “And we do not need to go anywhere. We were invited to the city to hunt down serial killers. This means my badge trumps yours. You and your stubby little partner should get in your car, call your captain and tell him that you just ran into two members of the SCTU and find out what he would like you to do about it. However, I’m pretty sure he’s going to call you an idiot too. So prepare yourself for that.”
In my line of work, cops are rarely bad guys. The world has gotten too crazy for it. Bad cops got lots of people with badges killed and law enforcement didn’t like it. However, as I stood here, staring at the vice cops, I realized they were the pimps I detested so much.
“At the moment, we can’t arrest you. We might not like what you’re doing, but we can’t arrest you for it. The very second you think about making this a violent encounter, we will have you on so many charges that the sun will implode before you get out of prison. Dirty cops in prison have terrible lives. You should just move on,” Lucas said.
“We live here. The crime and grime will be here long after you leave. You aren’t helping anybody with your presence. You’re just keeping cops from busting real criminals and girls from making money,” the short one said. “When all you work with are hammers, everything begins to look like a nail. There aren’t any serial killers killing these women.”
The urge to draw my Taser was so strong that my hands were actually shaking. This guy wasn’t just an idiot, he was a dangerous idiot. Either he knew they existed and didn’t care, or he was truly oblivious. Either way, he deserved to have 250,000 volts of electricity shot through his entire body.
“You should go,” Luc
as looked at me. “It isn’t going to end well for you.”
“Us?” The taller one smirked. “There are seven of us and two of you.”
“You should call for back-up,” Lucas told him.
There were footsteps from behind me. I heard them a second before they reached me. My elbow connected with his stomach before he could grab me. I turned and swung at the same time, my fist crashing against his face. It was a lucky shot, even for me, I had guessed his height based on where my elbow had hit him. He grunted as he went down. Some people just couldn’t take a blow to the jaw.
“This is going to be hard to explain,” Lucas shook his head. I drew my Taser and fired it at another man that was approaching me. This meant my back was to the short and tall guys, but I had Lucas to cover it.
Ten
The wires grabbed hold of his coat. I ejected the cartridge and replaced it in a single motion. In the time it took me to reload, he’d only taken two steps. I aimed lower and caught him in the thigh with both prongs. His body went rigid and he fell face first against the concrete. His body twitched and jerked. I ejected the second cartridge and loaded a third. This guy would be down for a while. Only a psychopath could get up from that kind of voltage and even then, it took sheer will and determination for them to manage.
Behind me, something slammed against metal. I spun around. Three guys had rushed Lucas and shoved him into the side of the SUV. One was delivering body blows on Lucas, while another attempted to pepper spray him. The third had gotten caught in a headlock with Lucas and was losing consciousness very fast. That meant I could only account for five of the supposed seven bad guys. However, I wasn’t going to let Lucas suffer a pummeling while I looked for the other two that may or may not exist. I couldn’t use the Taser or any guns, Lucas was too close. I did the next best thing. I grabbed the guy with the pepper spray at the elbow and bent it backwards while bringing my knee up. The two joints slammed against each other. A bone ruptured the skin, the arm went slack, and the hand dropped the pepper spray. I grabbed the baton and flicked it out. The click was very satisfying.
I brought the steel down on his already broken arm. He screamed and fell to the ground. I kicked him in the face with the bottom of my boot. His nose broke. He fell quiet.
My baton hit the guy delivering body blows next. The metal made a swishing noise as I swung it through the air, catching the guy on his behind. This wasn’t a vital area, but it was enough to make a person stop. There was a crunching sound as the tip hit the tailbone. His khaki pants began to darken. The baton was a new weapon given to me by Malachi after we captured Patterson. I hadn’t used it before. Knowing it would break skin was interesting information. He crumbled, screaming in pain. I was not going to apply pressure to his wound.
Lucas let go of the guy he was holding. The guy also fell into a heap. I frowned at my partner.
“What?” He asked.
“I took out four and you took out one,” I told him.
“I was busy taking a beating so you wouldn’t have to,” he informed me.
“Whatever.” I rolled my eyes and began to scan the area, looking to see if there really were seven of them. I didn’t see anyone, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t more. I used my boot and rolled over the only one still awake. “Did you bluff about there being seven or did the other two run away?”
He screamed in response.
“I don’t think he’s going to answer,” Lucas told me, getting out his phone. “Crushed tailbones really hurt.”
“Have you crushed your coccyx before?” I asked.
“Yes, jumping off a third story balcony,” he answered and started talking into his phone. I was still waiting for the other two mystery men to jump us. My adrenaline was on full flow. The world seemed brighter, more real than usual. It didn’t make me jumpy or shaky, like it did some people. It made me hyper-vigilant, a state that was problematic. I would crash, eventually, and it would suck.
“After we get our asses chewed out and I wake up from my coma, I want to hear that story,” I told him.
One of the women caught my attention. She was very carefully trying to point down the street at the ringleader. Maybe they weren’t all men. The ringleader was giving me her full attention. I squared my body up, waiting for her to come at me. She’d only moved down the street about twenty feet. She could shoot me or rush me. I put away the baton. It wouldn’t help if she shot me.
She did neither. She just stood and stared at me. My body couldn’t relax. Her gaze was too intense for normal gawking. The other prostitute told me there was something else going on. I pulled out zip cuffs and began slapping them on the unconscious men. I hated zip cuffs. They broke easier than people thought. The entire time I bound them, I kept my attention on the lead prostitute. Once that was done, I pulled out the real handcuffs and started walking towards the prostitute.
She drew her knife fast. It was in my hand before I even realized what she was doing. I didn’t impress easily, but that impressed me. The hilt would leave a nasty bruise around the hole in my hand. I jerked it out, and then grabbed her with my damaged hand, dragging her into me.
“You wanted to know if I was big enough to hunt serial killers in your city,” I held her inches from my face, her hands flailing about, trying to get another weapon. I caught one of her hands in my good one and squeezed until I heard the bones crack. She yelped and began to whimper. I let go of the broken hand and grabbed her other at the wrist. “With a single move, I could make typing an impossibility for you for the rest of your unnatural life. Where’s the other one?”
“Go fuck yourself.” She tried to regain her composure.
“I get so tired of being told that.” I shook my head at her, before placing her forehead against mine. “Even as the tears roll down your face, you want to pretend you aren’t afraid of me, but you are. I can feel it in the tremble of your body. I can smell it in your sweat. You want to reach for a weapon, one of mine, yet you don’t because you’re afraid of what will happen if you fail to kill me. You aren’t the first to experience that dilemma, you won’t be the last. But for the next minute or so, you are the only one that matters. Now ask yourself what I can do to you before back-up arrives, before the ambulance gets here, before there is anyone to save you from me and then decide if you want to answer my question or continue to deny your own will to survive.”
She spat at me. It landed on my jacket. Few things are as gross as being spit on. I held her tighter, despite the ache that was starting to build in my hand.
“Do you know what the purpose of fear is? It is supposed to stop us from making stupid decisions that endanger our lives. You are currently afraid because your brain knows that I can kill you. Your brain wants you to tell me the answer. It wants you to do whatever it takes to convince me to let you go. Your defiance isn’t caused by a lack of fear or even ignoring it. It’s caused by the adrenaline that is flooding your brain to keep your body functional while you go through this intense state of fear. Now, I will ask you one more time. Who is the seventh person? If you tell me, I’ll let you go. You can sit on the sidewalk and smoke a cigarette before you go to jail. If you don’t tell me, I’m going to break your neck just because you’re a stupid bitch that would rather watch people die than answer a simple question and I find that extremely annoying.”
“He’s watching from a building across the street,” she gave in.
“Does he have a gun?”
“Yes.”
“Sniper!” I shouted to Lucas, jerking her away from me, tossing her to the ground. Her head hit the concrete and she didn’t move. I didn’t know why he hadn’t taken a shot yet. Maybe he thought the ground crew could handle us or maybe he’d gone to the bathroom. I wasn’t willing to bet Lucas’s life on any of those scenarios. Lucas was at least covered by the SUV. I dashed to a car and took cover with no real plan.
In my head, a sniper always took the shot. In reality, there were many reasons not to take one, especially if the sniper wasn’t
well trained in the art of long distance executions. This shot wouldn’t be long range. It wouldn’t even be challenging for most people. We weren’t surrounded by skyscrapers. Dilapidated three and four story buildings that had once served as stores and apartments surrounded us.
Then it came, the loud popping of a gunshot. It echoed off the brick walls. People screamed and ran. I looked around for any sign of the shooter in the windows and found none. I looked at Lucas. There was a guy standing over him.
My gun was out. I didn’t remember removing it from the holster. I began firing on the standing figure, his arm pointed down at my slumped cohort. His body twisted and jerked with each shot. I was standing now, walking towards him at a steady pace, my finger pulling the trigger without the help of my brain. Muscle memory kept the gun steady as each shot exited the barrel of the gun. It clicked. I drew the second one, but the figure was now falling. The body crashed into the SUV, smearing it with blood that only darkened the black paint.
Lucas groaned and stood up. He tugged at his jacket. My feet began to move faster. I sprinted the last dozen steps. My good hand searched for wet spots on his black T-shirt that my eyes couldn’t see.
“Ace, it’s fine,” Lucas told me, tugging at his shirt while trying to remove my probing fingers. His voice sounded distant and faint. “Ace, I’m not shot, just bruised. Ace!”
I snapped to attention, looking into Lucas’s face. My hand fell from his body. I expected blood to be gushing from his head. It wasn’t. He was clean. His shirt fell to the ground revealing the Kevlar vest. I exhaled loudly and slumped against him.
“Good lord, why didn’t you tell me you were going to be wearing a vest?” I smacked the vest and it sent a wave of pain up my arm. “Shit, that hurt. I hate you.”
“If you hated me, you wouldn’t have been probing my chest for gunshot wounds.” He smiled and looked at my hand. “I think that is going to need a doctor.”
“Yes, yes,” I dismissed it, “tis but a scratch.”
