by Frank Zafiro
She might. But she might turn around and head back along Mona Street. If she did, the site was too perfect to pass up.
There’s too many people.
No. It was almost eleven at night. It’s cold, dark and the tail end of a rainy day. There’s hardly anyone else out.
No. It’s not smart. You’ve got to plan.
He set his jaw. Planning was important, but sometimes opportunities occurred that weren’t part of the plan. A smart man took advantage of these opportunities.
That’s the cognac talking.
No, he decided. It wasn’t.
It wasn’t the cognac at all. It was the new him. And that unlucky bitch just made his new self one lucky man.
He turned onto Glass Street and pulled his car to the curb just around the corner. A half block up the street was one lonely, dark house. Below him lay a tumble of bushes and a few scattered trees before the small thicket of trees that lined Mona Street.
At first, he reached for the glove compartment for his ski mask. Then he stopped. He wouldn’t need that precaution any more, would he? He looked down at his hands, flexing them wide open and back into fists. No, he wasn’t going to have to worry about this one telling tales on him. Not once he laid these hands on her.
He exited the car. The fresh air filled his lungs. He smiled because even the world smelled new to him.
2249 hours
“My fingers are getting cold,” Katie murmured, knowing Tower could hear her on the other end of the transmitter. She imagined him sitting in the truck with Chisolm, the white plug stuck in his ear.
Warm and cozy in that truck, she corrected herself. While she was out here like a worm dangling on a hook, hoping that a shark came along to take a bite.
And on top of that, she had cold fingers.
“I’m going to have to start jogging to keep warm,” she said in to the transmitter.
Of course, that was hardly true. The street took a decidedly uphill swing as she approached Post. The effort she expended climbing up the rise kept her core warm enough. It was just her fingers that didn’t benefit from the exertion.
Katie raised her hands to her mouth and blew on them. When she reached Post, she paused and looked around. It took her several moments to spot Tower’s Toyota truck. He’d picked a good spot, nestled between two other parked cars on the side of the street. From there, she figured they had a good view of her for most of her route along Mona Street. The only blind spot might be the area she’d just trekked up, but Sully and Batts would be able to see her from their end.
“One more pass,” she said quietly. “Then we’re going for some more coffee.”
Tower flashed his headlights, indicating he’d heard her transmission.
Katie turned and started back west on Mona Street.
2250 hours
Walking through the bushes soaked his clothing with a freezing wetness, causing him to shiver. He ignored the sensation and pressed on. The cognac kept him warm inside. He’d be taking a hot shower soon enough, anyway.
He spotted her coming back westbound from crest of the rise to Post Street. A thrill shot through his limbs, causing a sudden erection.
He’d been right.
He crept past a leafy bush and stepped behind a wide pine tree near the base of the small rise.
He crouched and watched her shuffle toward him.
He waited.
2251 hours
Katie breathed onto her frigid fingers again. She decided that she didn’t want coffee, after all. On a night like tonight, some hot cocoa was in order. She’d forgo any marshmallows or whipped cream in the interests of not appearing too girlish in the presence of her platoon mates, but secretly she was glad that she could do girl things like that on occasion.
Right now, she marveled at the absolute reverse chivalry at work in this operation. All four men were sitting in dry, warm cars while the sole woman on the team was trudging back and forth on wet pavement in the cold.
Well, Katie thought, we wanted equality. If this is how it feels, then I guess this is how it feels.
As she shuffled down the rise, she leaned back slightly to slow her descent. Her bruised quadriceps protested with small yelps of soreness.
There’s another point for equality, she thought. That Russian hadn’t even hesitated before blasting her in the leg. Even the criminals had left chivalry by the wayside in favor of equality.
Katie caught her toe in a crack in the asphalt, causing her to stumble. She windmilled her arms and regained her balance before she fell to the ground. She winced as the sudden movement put all of her weight momentarily on her injured leg.
She stopped and took a moment to catch her breath. Flexing and stretching her left leg, she thought about asking Chisolm for another dose of his magic juice.
* * *
Why was she stopping?
He watched her intently from twenty yards away. His body pressed against the tree in front of him. The odor of wet bark filled his nostrils, but he was already imagining the smell of her fear.
She’d stumbled and almost fell. Now she stood in the street, working her left leg as if testing the muscle. He admired her athletic form, resenting it at the same time. She probably thought she was something special, this one. She definitely needed to be knocked down a notch or two.
Still, what about the leg? Did she pull something when she tripped? It didn’t look like that bad of a stumble, but you never knew.
A weak leg meant a weak runner.
This was going to be easier than he thought.
* * *
“That didn’t sound good,” Tower said.
“What did it sound like?”
“Like she fell down or something,” Tower said. He raised the field glasses to his eyes and scanned the dark street in front of him. “I can’t see her, either.”
“Those aren’t worth much of a damn at night,” Chisolm told him.
“I don’t care if all I see is a shadow, as long as I know it’s her.” Tower lowered the glasses and shook his head. “I’m not seeing anything.”
“Check with the others.”
Tower raised the radio to his mouth. “Ida-409 to Adam-122.”
“Go ahead.”
“Do you have a visual on MacLeod?”
“Affirm. She’s near the base of the rise that leads up to Post.”
Tower copied, looked over at Chisolm and shrugged. “Sorry. Paranoid, I guess.”
Chisolm grinned. “Don’t be. A healthy dose of paranoia is the reason I’m sitting here and not in some military cemetery.”
2252 hours
He hesitated.
While she’d been stretching, her athleticism first irritated him. Then it set him thinking. Athletic people tended to be more confident than their sedentary counterparts. And she looked like she was in too good of shape to employ walking as a means of fitness.
When she finished stretching and resumed walking, he smiled to himself. Her shoulders slumped. He eyes fell. Even her walk was an insecure shuffle.
Maybe she hurt her knee. Maybe this was how she was rehabbing it. That would explain why the small trip worried her so much.
That made sense. And just because she was in good shape didn’t mean she wasn’t weak. The way she moved, it was obvious that something had happened to her in her past. Maybe she’d been some sort of victim before. If that were so, he was certain that she’d be more scared in the next five minutes than any other time in her pitiful, waste of a life. At least she’d have the opportunity to take part in his new beginning. At least she’d accomplish something in the brief moments left to her in this world.
He took in a deep breath. Things were falling into place nicely.
* * *
Katie focused on the small pools of water collected in puddles along the roadway as she shuffled slowly along. She drew her cold fingers into her middle and allowed herself to think about how good that hot cocoa was going to taste in about twenty minutes.
She wonde
red who would pony up and pay for the cocoa. She figured it would be a dead heat between Tower and Chisolm. Battaglia was too self-centered and Sully would be too conscious of the fact that they were both single. He wouldn’t want to send mixed messages. It was an unfortunate by-product of all the sexual harassment training that officers went through. A cup of coffee sometimes just can’t be a cup of coffee.
Katie figured Tower would still buy the cocoa because it was his operation and Chisolm would do it because...well, because he was Tom Chisolm. He just did things like that.
Her mind drifted to the events in the park two nights ago. She still hadn’t heard from any of the brass what was going to happen with her accidental discharge under the overpass. Tower told her before shift that he’d reported the incident to Lieutenant Crawford, who was going to discuss it with Captain Reott, the Patrol Captain. After that, who knew what—
The movement surprised her. The flash of shadow made her gasp. Before she could react, an arm had already snaked around her throat and pulled her tight against the body that appeared behind her.
She struggled, trying to reach for her fanny pack, but the attacker’s other arm wrapped around her chest and squeezed.
Her breath left her.
He grabbed onto her right wrist and drew him to her.
She felt his hardness grinding into her buttocks through his clothing and hers.
Katie froze.
* * *
“What the–?” Sully raised his binoculars.
Battaglia stirred next to him. “What?”
The scene through his binoculars was dark and difficult to make out. He saw a flash of shadow near the sidewalk, but it seemed to disappear into the trees.
He lowered the binoculars. “I can’t see her. Check with Tower.”
* * *
“Adam-122 to Ida-409.”
Tower raised the portable radio and answered, “Go ahead.”
“We’ve lost our visual on her. Do you have an eye?”
Tower shot an alarmed look at Chisolm. Then he answered, “No. She hasn’t come back into view yet once she headed down the rise.”
“Copy. We should roll in and check it out.”
Tower considered for a moment. If they rolled in and all was fine, they risked blowing the cover of the operation. But that didn’t matter if MacLeod were in danger. And besides, if all was well, who was really going to see that the operation was burned?
He pressed the transmit button. “Let’s go.”
* * *
“Don’t you move, bitch,” he grunted into her ear.
Katie’s knees went weak. Terror enveloped her as if she’d plunged into a freezing lake. Unable to think or move, she felt herself drift toward the bottom.
It was him.
The Rainy Day Rapist.
But to her ears, he spoke with Phil’s voice.
Her heels drug across the sidewalk and into the brush.
* * *
The words broadcasted over the transmitter were scratchy and distant, but they still managed to send a shock wave through Tower.
“Don’t you move, bitch.”
“Oh, God,” he breathed.
“Go!” Chisolm hollered at him, ripping his pistol from its holster. “Go, go, go!”
Tower started the truck, racing the engine. He slammed it into gear and punched the accelerator.
* * *
Ten more yards.
Ten more and then he was going to make this bitch pay. Tear her clothes away. Fuck her like she’s never been fucked before. Lay the whammo on her.
All the way.
His breath came quickly as he dragged her into the foliage.
2253 hours
His grip around her body was stifling. She could barely breathe. She stared out into the darkness, but it was the shadows of the past that washed over her.
Her own pleas.
Don’t do this.
His forceful replies.
You’ll do whatever the fuck I tell you to do, bitch.
And afterward, the condemnation.
You liked it. Don’t forget that.
A wet, leafy bush raked across her face, spilling cold water onto her cheek and down her neck. His ragged, excited breathing rang in her ears. His hardness bumped and grinded against her backside as he pulled her deeper into the brush.
Katie tried to cry out, but nothing happened. She felt strangely paralyzed, her limbs and mouth refusing to obey the weak commands that came from her mind.
Am I going to die?
* * *
He stopped near a pine tree. It was far enough away from the street to be out of sight through the other bushes and trees. And this one seemed too scared to scream for help. Just in case, he released her wrist and grabbed a handful of hair. With a jerk, he pulled her head back.
“I’m going lay the whammo on you, bitch,” he whispered directly into her ear. “If you make a sound, I will kill you. You understand?”
The woman didn’t respond.
He yanked hard on her hair, pulling her head further back.
“Fucking answer me!”
* * *
Katie felt no pain, only pressure. When he jerked her hair, it forced her head back. She stared up at the dark expanse of the sky. There were no stars visible through the cloud cover.
“Fucking answer me!” he growled in her ear.
Still unable to speak, she bobbed her head slightly in understanding. But in that moment, she felt a tickle of warmth in the pit of her stomach.
Fear melted away.
Who the hell do you think you are, you piece of shit?
The tickle became a flare and the flare turned into a blaze. Voices from the past echoed through the wet brush that surrounded her.
Don’t be a goddamn tease.
You liked it. Don’t forget that.
At least you weren’t a virgin.
Hot rage engulfed her.
* * *
He felt her try to nod her head in submission. That was all he needed from her before taking care of business.
With a hard shove, he threw her face-first into the ground. He heard her grunt as she landed. Even that modest amount of pain made him feel good. Of course, it was nothing compared with what was to come.
He dropped on top of her, straddling her just below her buttocks. Leaning forward, he pressed his left hand onto her upper back, pinning her to the earth. With his free hand, he reached for her waistband.
She squirmed beneath him. Without hesitation, he threw a hard punch into her kidneys. She let out a yelp as the blow landed.
He grabbed her waistband at the small of her back and tore it downward.
She twisted underneath him, scrambling onto her side.
“Stop moving, bitch!” he said through gritted teeth.
“Fuck you,” she growled back.
The words surprised him. So did the tone. There was fire in those two words. He felt it radiating upward toward him.
A white fury swept over him.
How dare she?
He slid upward, straddling her waist. Ignoring her struggling, he cocked his fist and began raining punches down on her head and face.
“You want the whammo, bitch, you got it.”
* * *
The first blow stunned her. She didn’t see it coming, but only felt the raw force collide with her forehead. She battled with a dark fog that seemed to be settling in across her vision.
“You want the whammo, bitch, you got it,” she heard him say.
Reflexively, she raised her own hands to fend off his punches. The next one landed on her forearm, followed by a shot that she caught on the wrist. That punch drove the heel of her own palm into her mouth.
Katie twisted and moved, trying to avoid each punch as they came out of the darkness.
* * *
Most of his punches weren’t landing solidly, but he didn’t care. The sheer exhilaration of raining his hatred down on this worthless bitch filled every part of his being. If i
t took another dozen blasts for him to catch her with one that put her out, so be it.
It felt good.
No.
It felt great.
Perfect.
Fulfilling.
He raised his fist for another punch.
That was when he heard the unmistakable sound of tires screeching to a halt, followed by slamming doors. Yells came next, several voices at once.
“Straight through there!”
“Katie!”
“Police!”
Police? How the hell did they get here so quick?
Flashlights darted through the darkness. The beams bounced and bobbed in his direction.
He turned to look down at the nearly defenseless form beneath him.
She twisted and rose toward him. Then he saw stars.
* * *
The punches stopped suddenly. In that brief moment, she heard tires on asphalt. Doors slammed. Familiar voices called out to her.
She moved without thinking, twisting underneath him. She torqued her body, forcing herself upward from lying on her side. As she reached a sitting position, she drove her elbow toward his head, following through like a baseball player swinging a bat.
Her elbow connected with something hard. Pain jolted through her arm, causing her to cry out again. Her arm fell to her side, sagging and useless.
* * *
The blow caught him behind the ear, stunning him.
Stars dancing in darkness paraded across his vision. He shook his head and the stars faded away quickly.
And his fury returned.
He realized she was sitting up, her face even with his chest. She was too close to hit with any force. He knew he had to run in the next few seconds or he’d be caught. But he wasn’t going to let this bitch get away with hitting him.
