Spydra: Webs of Deceit

[Abductorenmadrid]

Hi all

This is a new story in a series about a young heroine called Spydra. Spydra's life crisscrosses the world of Supergirl & The Broker but if you want to stay focused on just her then her previous stories are here. If you are a regular reader of Supergirl & The Broker series too there are events in this latest story you will recognise from Divided You Will Fall! I hope you enjoy!

Once Bitten
A student called Laura develops some strange powers but with the help of a new friend she begins to figure out what they do. Unfortunately someone else is also trying to find her! This is an opening origin story for Spydra.

Twice Shy
In my version of the world we have Supergirl and when she gets word of a potential dangerous new threat she goes to check things out. That threat is Spydra!

False Flags
Set in New York a fledgling Spydra is given a mission to do but not everything is as it seems!

And now I give you - Spydra: Webs of Deceit

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Someday in 1992


It was a dark night with only a thin slice of the moon illuminating the cloudless sky. At the edge of a construction site there was a chain-link fence and a man approached the gateway and found the padlock unclipped and hanging loose from the metal bolt. The man swung the gate open causing it to jangle and rattle before it swung closed behind him. Cursing at his clumsiness he proceeded on in amongst the bare concrete columns of the building that was in the opening phases of being constructed.

“Jake?” asked the man into the darkness.

“You're late! Why the fuck did you choose this place?” exclaimed another male voice from the shadows.

“I am here Jake, talk, what is this about?” asked the first man as he sought out Jake in the darkness.

“You know exactly why we need to talk, Billy,” Jake answered gruffly from behind a column.

“I know you are sore but I can't protect everyone. Shit is always bound to happen but I've always kept you safe, it's the reason I am on the inside, remember?” Billy explained into the darkness.

“What the fuck happened, Billy? I had been using that place and it got turned over. They even went in hard, my two guys were killed! That could have been me and you didn't even warn me!” Jake said as he stayed hidden.

“I knew you weren't there, idiot. What good are we to each other if you are dead?” Billy said, his voice conciliatory.

“Are you sure you mean that? I think that's exactly what you wanted,” Jake said, his voice shaky.

“What the fuck are you talking about? It's ME that has been protecting you this whole fucking time,” Billy protested, arms opening apart in a shrug towards the unseen owner of the voice.

“I've been watching, Billy. You're moving up and I think you're looking to leave me behind,” Jake said.

“Up? Look around you! You think I'm becoming a big fish but the pond is getting bigger too. Money is coming to the town, the plant is expanding. It means more jobs, more opportunities for you to do your thing!” Billy explained.

“Uh uh, don't try and sell me some bullshit 'big future' crap, I'm walking before you end me!” Jake said sharply.

“Now don't be like that. We can make this work. Now come on, get out from behind there you pussy,” Billy replied with sarcasm.

“It's over! You won't see me, you won't hear from me, I expect the same from you,” Jake said.

“Jeezus, Jake. We've been buddies since we were kids. I can't believe …..” Billy began to say, head down and despondent.

“DON'T! Now get out of here and go do whatever it is you're planning but I'm taking Andrea and getting us out of town before it's too late...” Jake said as he stepped forward from the shadows.

“I'm sorry you feel that way but I would prefer you to hang around...” Billy replied.

“Hang around? What so your colleagues can kill me?” Jake exclaimed.

“EXACTLY” Billy growled.

“Wha..?” Jake barely managed to say.

PHUT! - CRACK!

From Jake's chest a smattering of blood erupted and he slumped to his knees. Clutching his wound, Jake's mouth moved yet no words came. Billy shrugged as he walked up to Jake who's eyes looked up to his former friend, his face revealing his surprise at the sudden betrayal.

“Jeez Jake, I'm sorry buddy. I wish you had at least been able to go out with your pals in the raid, give you a fighting chance, yeah? But you had to be in the wrong place!” Billy said.

“Geeeeht Fuuuuuh!” Jake ultimately managed as with a painful gulp he fell forward in a heap.

Billy looked around himself wondering where his sniper had been hiding and then looked at the body. Patting the body down Billy found Jake's car keys then grasped the ankles of the corpse. Billy then dragged the dead weight of his former friend away towards a dug out trench, a giant mechanical digger looming over him.

“Jeez Jake, you could have done with shedding a few pounds!” Billy grunted as he rolled the body into the deep pit.

Billy glanced around himself and found a shovel then began to cover up his victim with dirt. He had picked his location knowing full well the trench would be filled with concrete the next morning. Eventually Billy's black clad sniper friend emerged and the pair worked for a couple of hours laying a fresh bed of soil down the trench, trying to make the bottom look level. Then, their work completed they went to leave.

Making it back to the perimeter fence Billy patted at his pockets to retrieve his car keys...

“Fuck!” Billy exclaimed.

“What?” his black painted partner asked.

“My.... my …. my ID … it's ...gone!” Billy exclaimed.

“Jeezus, you fuckin' prick! You left it in THERE? We've gotta find it!” Billy's partner growled.

The pair searched Billy's route to the site, the place where he stood as he and Jake had spoken and then, as they retraced their route to the pit they both realised the truth.

“You fuckin' idiot, it's down there!” the sniper exclaimed.

“SHIT, what do we do!” Billy said, holding his head.

“We stick with the alibi plan we already have, you just need to report it missing tomorrow, ok, I can tell them you knew it was missing earlier today, understand?”

“Fuck, I can't believe it!” Billy admonished himself.

“Well, believe it, it's down there. But don't sweat it, tomorrow it will be buried in tonnes of concrete, you will never have to worry about it,” the sniper said.

“Fuck, ok, I'll report it missing,” Billy said as he peered into the deep hole, his small flashlight not revealing anything.

“Come on, we have to dispose of his car,” the sniper said as he turned away.

“DAMMIT!” cursed Billy one last time as he turned away from the grave of his former friend.

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Someday in 2010


“And that's why I've waited until today, just like I promised, to tell you what happened to your father. I needed to wait until you were ready to handle it ...” the man said as he leaned towards his niece

Ashley, just turned eighteen, looked down for a moment thoughtfully. Her dark hair framed her face, the short pony tail dallying with her shoulders.

“So, you didn't tell the police? There was no one you could go to?” Ashley finally said, her head rising to reveal her dark brown eyes to her uncle.

“Ashley, I .. I was scared! Your father asked me to go with him to look out for him but when the sniper shot him? All I could do was stay hidden!” Ashley's uncle said.

“But afterwards, uncle Todd?” Ashley asked, confused.

“They were dangerous people then but now they are even more powerful!” Todd said bitterly, shaking his head.

“But, there must be a way!” Ashley said hopefully.

“For me, no, but …. one day, for you, it might be possible,” Ashley's uncle said, his hand resting on her shoulder.

“How? I wasn't even born when my dad died! How am I going to ever prove anything?” Ashley said.

“Eventually dirt sticks and 'Billy' is surrounded by dirt. You just need to be close when he gets in amongst the filth,” Todd said bitterly.

“Close? So, who is Billy...where is Billy now?” Ashley asked, her uncle.

Todd made a sideways glance to Andrea, Ashley's mother who nodded subtly in reply, her course set in her mind.

“Billy, as everyone used to call him at school, is really William. You may know him as William Kohl, Deputy Chief Kohl of the Littleton City Police,” Todd explained.

“The man who murdered my father is with the Police!” Ashley exclaimed.

“Now you understand why you and I use my mothers maiden name, Hill, to not draw attention. Your father and I would have wed, but once Kohl killed him I hid,” Andrea explained.

“I have no idea who the man with the trigger was, Ashley, but yes the man who betrayed your father, Billy, he was just a detective back then. Now he's near the top of the tree. He may actually end up being the top police officer of the city if the current chief retires. ” Todd explained.

“Ashley, your father may have been in with a bad crowd, but it didn't give Billy the right to murder him. It was him who was calling the shots anyway, Jake was just a fall guy.” Andrea said, her greying features mirroring her daughter's more youthful looks.


“What... what should I do?” Ashley said, looking to her mother and uncle in turn.


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2016 One Monday Morning

“.... and so with the crack down on street vendors please pay attention to their licenses. Now then, assignments...” continued the Sargent at the podium, his badge gleaming, his shirt looking fresh and well pressed.

In front of him the uniformed officers of the precinct made notes or glanced at sketches on fliers they had been handed at the start of the briefing.

“Vehicle patrols, Duke with Jones, Barret with Stokes, Volker with Stark, Henderson with Lamb and Hill with me. Then for foot patrols, Howell with Swindon, Holt with Portland and Richards with Finley. OK, lets go serve and protect, people!” Sargent Bishop concluded before closing his folder.

Officer Ashley Hill diligently glanced over her briefing notes while the murmuring of the leaving officers increased before she rose to her feet, ready to start another new day.

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[Abductorenmadrid]

Continuing the story from where we left off, on a "Monday", here is the first day of Spydra's new adventure! I will post a "day" once per week ending with a "Friday".


MONDAY

Inside the glass walled conference room the morning staff meeting at The Littleton Bugle was drawing towards the end. The chief editor, Rory Barnes stood by his whiteboard with his plan for the day's work. In his mid forties, his curled dark hair with eyes to match certainly showed he was ageing well. His employer, The Littleton Bugle was the city's and surrounding area's foremost newspaper but also provided content to internet based news streams which had helped it keep the business alive in the new age of the internet.

“OK, next up …. ummm you two,” Barnes said, pointing at two of his reporters.

“Yes, boss?” one of them replied.

“The roadworks on the freeway. You think there are some legs in that story?” Barnes asked.

“Yes, I think so, maybe a small section a day. We see ambulances caught up in the traffic all the time and the businesses around there seem to be bit hard hit,” one of the men replied.

“Ok, share out some topics between you, the hospital, the stores, maybe try and get some word from moms on the school run and the haulage guys.” Barnes said as he wrote some ideas on his whiteboard.

“And me?” asked another reporter, her pen raised to grab attention.

Barnes took in the sight of one of his junior reporters, Erin Tate. She was well past being a novice of her trade. Gaining experience every day she was gradually earning a reputation as a safe pair of hands for some of the more important stories that entered the scene. However, Littleton was never going to be the source of the sort of stories she wanted to write, was it?

“Erin? Oh yes, I am giving you the mayor's ground breaking ceremony,” Barnes continued as he glanced back at the blonde haired Erin. Dressed in a close fitting white and pale blue striped shirt and black pants she made for an attractive young woman.

“But...” Erin sighed.

“No, I've not forgotten your pet project,” Barnes grinned. “The mayor doesn't get onto the podium until after lunchtime so you have a few hours to play this morning.”

“Oh, thanks boss!” Erin replied in surprise.

“Don't thank me just yet, I'm putting you on the benefit gig tonight,” Barnes said with a grin and a wink drawing a few chuckles from Erin's colleagues.

“Oh shut up,” Erin said, cocking her head with a weak scowl, her tongue poking out to finish things off.

The 'benefit gig' was a night job at the small city's annual high society gathering. The tradeoff for being allowed in though was that attending journalists were expected to be more a mouthpiece of the charitable event and to leave their more inquisitive natures at the door. This tended to make the experience less than desirable for more serious reporters who felt they were being used to spread propaganda.

“A small price to pay if your little project pays off,” Barnes said before glancing back at his whiteboard and checking off more assignments.


Erin listened on politely as Barnes spoke but gradually her ears tuned out his words and her eyes settled onto a scene playing out beyond the glass of the conference room. A red head had entered the open planned floor offices of The Bugle, escorted by one the junior staff members. The red head, young and athletic was dressed smart but casual, a rectangular camera bag over her shoulder. Guided to a desk the red head had sat down and hugged her camera bag seemingly a little anxious and then was left alone. Erin thought there was something vaguely familiar about her but couldn't be sure.

Whoever she was though, she was probably there as another new photographer. The Bugle had one permanent staff photographer and in addition to him were usually some temps, posts routinely filled by students in between phases of their education.

“More meat for the grinder!” thought Erin as she...

The red head turned her head suddenly and her eyes settled on Erin through the glass who instinctively averted her eyes in response, caught staring. The red head let out a weak smile then turned away leaving Erin to glance out once more before Barnes ended the meeting.

“OK, people, you know what to do – bring me the news!” Barnes said with a clap which caused everyone to gather their things ready to go.

The staff slowly filed from the room, the doorway acting like a bottleneck.

“Erin, can you wait up a moment?” Barnes asked over the murmur of his staff as they departed.

“Sure, boss,” Erin said as Barnes walked to the doorway behind the last person as they left.

“Laura? Oh, great, you're here! Come on over,” Barnes called to the red head sat at the desk.

Laura rose to her feet and patting her camera bag made her way over to the conference room.

“Oh great,” Erin groaned. The blonde reporter sensed babysitting duty was imminent.

In walked the red head, her shoulder length hair up in a ponytail, her eyes averted. Barnes closed the door behind her as she entered and turned to the two women.

“Hey, Laura, this is Erin Tate, one my junior reporters. Erin, this is Laura Granger” Barnes announced.

“Hi,” Laura said with a smile as she offered out her hand which Erin accepted and shook though she kept a light hold.

“Laura Granger? Wait … you ...you were the kid from the Hockey Girl case!” Erin said with surprise.

During the turbulent times of discovering the powers that made her Spydra Laura had been sketched by her lover, Neyra and transformed, comic book style into 'HockeyGirl'. A gift intended for her father, the police had found the sketch during the investigation of Laura and Neyra's disappearance. Despite being only one of over a hundred women abducted HockeyGirl as a name seemed to blanket the entire case when all the women were discovered together.

“Well, that didn't take long” quipped Barnes as the two women released their handshake.

“I knew there was something familiar about you!” Erin said slyly. If printing press ink were made of blood she would happily carve up Laura to get her story into the paper.

“Erin, yes, Laura was the one in the drawing the police put out, but NEWSFLASH.. she's not here to sell her story, she's here to do some temp work for us,” Barnes explained, sensing Erin's almost predatory sense for a story.

“But!” Erin managed in disbelief. The 'HockeyGirl' case had drawn a lot of attention but to have the woman herself to interview? That could be a big story!

“Laura's not here to talk about her case, ok?” Barnes said forcefully.

“If that's what you want?” Erin said in annoyance.

“I promise you, I am good with a camera, Mr Barnes... has seen my work,” Laura piped up.

“Well that's great,” Erin said, rolling her eyes.

“Forgive Erin, she's looking for a Pulitzer, not a photographer,” Barnes grinned. “Erin look, I am pairing you two up because I think you will get along,”

“Sure, boss,” Erin said flatly.

“Yes, Mr Barnes, sir,” Laura replied. She could sense Erin's slight hostility very easily.

“Come on then, Granger,” Erin said and then led Laura away just in time to see Barnes shake his head.

With a nervous smile Laura tugged the door closed behind them and turned to see Erin already walking hurriedly onwards.

“Are you ready to roll?” Erin asked, glancing over her shoulder.

“Roll, I guess, but I just got here!” Laura said with surprise.

“That office, back there? That's probably where you will spend the least amount of your time!” Erin scoffed.

“I, I guess.....so...err where are we going?” Laura said as she seemed to flounder in Erin's wake.

“Hopefully, to a story, though it seems stupid going anywhere when one of the most important local stories is right here with me,” Erin said as she and Laura made their way to the lobby of the building and into the small parking lot.

“My past. It isn't going to be a problem for you, is it?” Laura asked, her head tilting inquisitively.

“A problem? That's the point! Look, Barnes is a good guy but I don't want to be stuck at this little outfit forever. A story like yours is something that could get someone like me out of here,” Erin said as she popped the lock to her car and began to enter.

“Well, who knows? Maybe you'll get a story of your own,” Laura said as she hopped into the car alongside Erin, camera bag on her thighs.

Erin buckled up her seatbelt and watched as Laura did the same before starting the car.

“Is there a reason you don't want want to talk?” Erin pushed again, drawing a glare from Laura.

“OFF the record?” Laura asked, her meeker side evaporating.

Erin paused, her hand dwelling on the gear selector which sat in neutral, “Ok..” she replied with a thoughtful nod. She hated the 'off the record' defence people put up but she had integrity and her personal curiosity was in need of satisfying. Besides, she was above using cheap tricks like putting what was now a personal conversation into print regardless of whatever it might yield.

“Look, there is still stuff the cops want us to keep to ourselves and there are things that happened that we don't want to talk about, ok? So don't think of me like some prize story, because right now there is no story,” Laura said, her eyes narrowing on Erin.

“Fine, I'll drop it,” Erin said with a roll of her eyes and selecting a gear.

There was an icy pause as Erin pulled away and made her way to the mouth of the parking lot facing into the street.

“OK, so where are we going this morning?” Laura asked as she plucked her camera from her bag.

“Do you know the Southbridge area? We are going there,” Erin answered as she signalled her turn then pulled out into the street.

“And what's there? Oh, ummm may I ?” Laura asked, as she held the end of a USB charging cable.

“In Southbridge, a lead to a story, and please don't tell me you're not even charged!” Erin said with a hint of anger.

“Oh this is like the backup of the backup of the backup...” Laura said, trying to reassure her new colleague.

“Oh, ok, well, there is a free slot, plug into that,” Erin replied her mood easing again while her head gestured to the USB charger in the center console.

“Cool,” Laura said with a light nod as she saw one of her spare camera batteries begin to recharge.

“The rumour is there is something strange going on over there. If you're not going to give me a story you could at least help me by getting a good photo of whatever it is they say is there,” Erin said.

“What the hell is it? A unicorn?” Laura joked nervously.

“Hmm, let's hear what the witnesses have to say,” Erin said.

Laura glanced at Erin unseen then to the road ahead and wondered what adventures awaited her.

- - - -




Dressed in black combats the small SWAT team of the Littleton City Police were huddled in the back of their plain white van. The senior officer, a steel grey haired Captain, held up a clipboard showing the layout of the small single story home that lay just up the street.

“Now you all know your ingress points?” the Captain asked.

The men nodded quietly and glanced between themselves. Whenever they stacked up at a door waiting to enter some place it usually was the hand of the same man each time, resting on their shoulder, watching their back. And once inside they always knew who was to their left or their right as they cleared a room.

Then the radio crackled to life with a bleep and a hiss.

“Suspects have returned,” was the simple message.

“OK, we are up, let's get them while they are off guard,” the officer announced, nodding to the man by the van door.

The door sprang open and the ten man SWAT team filed out, one man carrying a large metal cylindrical object over his shoulder. The team jogged along the front of a neighbour's house and began to split up into two groups to form up at the front and side entrance. From the other direction a pair of detectives, jackets off, bulletproof vests over their shirts, formed up at the back of the stack.

From across the street an elderly lady spied the men in black who began to form up in a neat column at the front door. Sat near the window of her living room she would have a perfect vantage point of the show that was about to begin.

“Oh my!” the lady managed, her eyes peering over her reading glasses, her cup of coffee pausing at her lips as she watched.

The man with the big metal cylinder moved up to the door and with a mighty swing slammed the battering ram at the lock, smashing it open instantly.

“POOOOOLIIIIIIIIIICE” began the yelling officers as they began to burst through the doorway.

Dogs in neighbouring gardens began barking and the voices grew louder as the police entered.

“POLICE ! SEARCH WARRANT !” the yelling continued.

BANG BANG …..... BANG BANG …...........

“DROP IT! POLLIIIIIIICE !!!” The yelling went on.

The lady slunk into the chair, her eyes peering over the windowsill as she waited to see what would happen next. Slowly the yelling diminished as a gradual lull fell on the scene and then..

BANG …................. BANG.................... two lonely final shots rang out.

“CLEAR!” yelled a man over the din of dogs barking.

The lady slowly raised her head and still couldn't see anything directly but it seemed whatever was happening was drawing to a close. Inside the house the SWAT men converged on the position of the shooting, the dead suspects blood pooling around their lifeless bodies.

“Well that went south fast! You guys ok? I've got paramedics on the way,” the lean black detective asked.

“Yeah, we're good. When they saw the team come through the front they ran to the back and took a pop at us,” the Captain said as his head nodded at a pair of bullet holes on the wall behind him.

The detective glanced at the bullet holes in the wall then down at the dying men, their chests oozing blood from their closely spaced wounds.

“Nice shooting,” the detective said with a suspicious frown that he just managed to contain.

“Thanks, Brockman!” the SWAT Captain said as he returned his pistol to its holster.

Brockman, his greying moustache and short hair cut in a flat top style was an experienced detective closing in on retirement. His age though seemed to have had no effect on his physique the ageing detective still being in good shape.

A Sargent knelt by the side of one of the dying men and began to give him medical attention as the wailing sirens of ambulances approached.

“Are they going to make it, Taylor?” Brockman asked as the Sargent checked the second man.

“Fading fast,” the Sargent Taylor said with a shake of the head.

“The medics will be here in a moment,” Brockman replied looking to the direction of the front door.

“Detective, you best get on with your warrant, I'll deal with this. Probably better you start in the garage out of the way of the medics,” the Captain said.

“Yeah sure!” Brockman said. Glancing about himself the detective got his bearings inside the unfamiliar house then holstered his sidearm as he left.

“Go clear the passageway and guide the medics in,” the Captain said to one of his junior ranks who had stood nearby.

With a nod the black clad officer side stepped around the scene and made for the the front doorway.

The Captain and the Sargent exchanged glances and got to work. Inside his medic bag the Sargent opened a pocket, and drew out a tight bound clear polythene bag of white powder which he hid at the back of a kitchen cupboard. In the meantime the Captain stooped down and placed the guns on the floor into the dying suspects hands for a moment before removing them. Then, as a final move he rubbed his hands over theirs, just to be sure the story would stick.

“Through there!” one of the SWAT team said out of sight, heralding the arrival of the paramedics.

The Sargent and the Captain glanced at each other with unspoken words then resumed their more innocent work.

- - -




Laura and Erin exited the car and glanced about them. The odour of dumpsters hung in the air and the abandoned car that sat on flat tyres, adorned with graffiti confirmed they had arrived in a bad part of town. Laura hung her camera about her neck and began to take some photographs of the view and then hurriedly caught up with Erin who seemed intent on finding something or someone.
Turning a corner into another street Laura's heart sank as she began to see some familiar landmarks and a grocery store in particular.

In the daylight it looked much different than at night when Laura had seen it, the glow of the green and yellow store front light now replaced by the cold light of day.

“Get a few shots of the store and the area will you? I am going to speak with the shop owner,” Erin said as she went to the entrance of the shop, the door held open.

“Sure,” Laura answered as she eyed Erin disappear inside.

Erin entered into the shop and found herself at the small checkout, an acne faced late teen was hooking some packs of batteries onto a small display stand behind the counter.

“Hi, good morning. My name is Erin Tate, I am here to see Mrs Watanabe. Is she here?” Erin asked with a smile.

“Oh, with the paper? Sure, she's at the back, go through,” the young man answered.

“Thanks,” Erin replied then walked on past the shelves and the chiller cabinets.

At the end there was an open doorway protected merely by a hanging bead curtain and with a frown Erin parted it and entered. Beyond seemed to be a stock room, goods waiting in boxes, ready to top up the shelves as they ran down.

“Mrs Watanabe?” Erin asked tentatively.

“Ah, Miss Tate?” replied a woman, Japanese lineage evident in the woman's voice.

Appearing from a doorway the late fifty, early sixty something lady appeared and invited her guest into her office.

“Please, sit,” Mrs Watanabe said with a brief bow as the pair took a seat either side of a desk.

“Thank you. So, what can you tell me, Mrs Watanabe?” Erin replied as she sat down, pen and notepad appearing from her bag.

“Before I begin, Miss Tate, you understand I do not want big fuss about thieves in your paper,” Mrs Watanabe began.

“The thieves? Well, I am more interested in the vigilante, what he does, what he looks like,” Erin said with a grin.

“Very well, then I will tell you of what happened,” Mrs Watanabe began.

Outside the store Laura flicked through the images she had taken so far. Some were of the store, some of a side alleyway. Right now they meant nothing but with Erin's words they might just tell the story of what she knew actually happened there just a few nights previous.


“It was getting dark and raining heavily,” began Mrs Watanabe to Erin who made notes.

- - -


Spydra was stooped on the roof edge in darkness silently watching down on the street below. The rain was incessant and heavy but within her suit the heroine was comfortable with the conditions. What had caught the heroine's eye as she had slowly traversed that particular part of the city was the two suspicious looking youths spying a small truck with a Cola livery down the side.

The truck had driven to the mouth of a side alley only to see that someone had parked a car within and then had backed up to the storefront. The alleyway, well signposted as being for deliveries only led to a heavy door which had opened, a head of a teenager emerging briefly into the rain before it closed again.


- - -

“I am not sure if the thieves parked there or if it were chance. But, that evening we had to take the stock in through the front instead of directly into the stock room,” Mrs Watanabe explained.

- - -


Spydra watched the youths unseen as the truck driver unfolded the elevator platform on the back and unpacked the dolly that would help him move his crates into the store. The rain water flowed cleanly over the lensed meshes of Spydra's eyes as she watched on. So far the youths had done no wrong but the moment they committed a crime it would spring the trap which would be her swift justice. The errors she made during her first adventure as Spydra were not going to be repeated. Seeing the thieves Wickes and Cruz just walk off with their carton of stolen cigarettes with no sense of confidence to stop them was a frustrating memory and now she hoped to bury that moment for good.

Lot by lot the driver wheeled stacks of crates from his truck to the store, the youths hovering nearby, unseen by their prey. The tension in Spydra's muscles built, the “will they, won't they?” question hovering in her mind. Her senses warned of conflict to come but the barrier of innocence that protected the young men from her seemed to be holding. The driver was untroubled in his work and his cargo seemed to enter the store unmolested. Then, after several minutes the driver began to stow his dolly, his delivery done. He folded the elevator back into position and after a brief visit inside the store, clipboard in hand, he was done and gone.


- - -

“And so everything was put into the stock room except a few crates of beer which we kept in the shop, ready to put on shelves,” Mrs Watanabe continued.

- - -


Cocking her head, Spydra watched as the two youths observed the truck leaving then approached the store's entrance. Beneath her mask a sly grin formed on Spydra's face then she raised an arm rock solid and still out in front of her and fired a web to the building across the street.

“Come on little flies, Spydra is waiting!” Spydra thought to herself as she waited for the moment to come.

Suddenly Spydra's senses came to life as something new was about to come into play and then she saw the lights of the car in the alleyway come on. The occupant of the car who had been hidden and lying across the front seats had sprung up. Now, making a fast break from the alley the car turned the corner and screeched to a halt outside the store.

“Oh gosh, ok!” Spydra corrected herself, her assuredness fading a moment as the situation changed.

Team-lifting a heavy crate between them the two youths, side by side, crate in between, dashed from the shop to the trunk of the car which was only loosely closed and tossed it in. Slamming the trunk closed the two youths began to enter the car when …


- - -

“Tommy who was working the checkout that evening was only gone a moment as he brought the delivery note to me here in my office. It was then the thieves struck,” Mrs Watanabe continued as Erin wrote down her tale.
- - -

BAM BAM – the driver looked up to the roof his car from inside, the sound of something like feet running over it a moment before …


“Uhhhhhhhhh” groaned the youth on the far side of the car, as he found himself falling back across the pavement and into the open store's doorway on his back.

“What the?” the driver and his other compatriot began to say in unison as their heads ducked to see what was going on.

Spydra landed on her feet on the pavement, one youth floored at the doorway in front of her the two others in the car waiting to flee.

“Shit! Get us outta here man!” the second youth urged the driver.

“But what about ...” the driver began to protest.

“Screw him! Go go go!” the passenger urged.

Spydra fired a glob of webbing at the feet of the youth at the doorway then spun around to see the driver, jaw open as he saw the masked face of Spydra stare back at him. In the rain soaked night the oversized mesh like eyes must have looked alien to him.

“Shit!” he yelled as the car squealed into life, sending his head snapping back into his seat as well as his passenger's in the back.

“Oh no!” exclaimed Spydra as the car accelerated away. She was determined they weren't going to get away with their ill gotten gains and yet that meant leaving the sprawling youth in the shop to his own devices.


- - -

Laura walked up the street a little and took a few more shots of the buildings a smile forming on her face as she remembered little landmarks from her encounter. A wall, a lampost, that street sign, it all came back to her ...

- - -

PHWUT!

With an instinctive web shot Spydra cast out a line to her quarry and snared the car, getting towed by it a moment before with a skip she kicked into the air and fired a web at a building, swinging away. The car sped along the street, splashing through puddles as it went then slowed to make a turn. The rear passenger with wide, frightened eyes looked anxiously around him while the driver scanned his mirrors.

“What the fuck was that thing?” asked the driver frantically. He was trying to look for his pursuer while dealing with driving in the dark rainy night, his eyes darting everywhere.

“I don't know, man, I don't know, where did it come from?!” the passenger asked, frightened.

WHUMP!

From above them the sound of feet landing on the roof again could be heard.

“Fuck, it's on top of us!” the two occupants exclaimed.

“Shake it off !”the passenger suggested causing the driver to slalom with the car.

On the roof Spydra dropped to a crouch, her feet, a knee and her two palms in contact with the roof of the car. She was pegged firmly in place and barely moved as the car swayed dangerously this way and that. With a hidden grin Spydra sensed what was to come next and gripped on just that little bit tighter.

“It ain't gone man, it ain't gone!” the passenger said, hearing the sheet metal roof gently pop with Spydra's subtle movement above.

“OK .. errrr …. how about …... THIS” the driver grunted as he slammed on the brakes.

SCCRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEECHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!

The car slid to a violent halt and the driver prayed that the strangely dressed phantom on the roof would be dislodged and come tumbling down the hood of his car onto the road in front of him.

“Shit, where ….. where is it?” the two occupants murmured to each other only to see Spydra's soles step calmly down the windshield and onto the hood before she turned to face them.

The driver recoiled into his seat when suddenly the mysterious person in front of them began to fire something like white spraypaint across the windshield, obscuring their view.

“Shit man, I am outta here!!” screamed the passenger as he opened the door and began to run.

The wiper blades which had been keeping the rain at bay began to become gummed up, the motor whining in protest until it stuttered to a stop.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit!” the driver exclaimed as he reached to his belt and pulled out a pistol. He only wanted to flee but with the wind-shield obscured he was now forced to stand and fight.

On the hood of the car Spydra was immersed in the moment, her senses bathing in the fear of her opponents. With her confidence rising the sense of a gun being present did nothing to disturb her path. The youth running from the car went flying face first to the ground, his feet lassoed by a web which Spydra held firm in one hand as she stepped down to the driver's side door. The driver's door flung open and the youth inside stepped out hurriedly, preparing to raise his pistol and ….

WHAM!

With a firm shove from Spydra's foot the door slammed closed on the hand holding the gun causing it to clatter to the floor.

“Aaarrghh …...” the driver yelped, snatching his hand to his body.

Right hand broken the driver looked to escape but barely made a few steps before he too was snared by his ankles and left writhing face down on the floor in the rain.

“Fuck, what ARE you?!” growled the driver as he looked around.

Looking beneath the car the driver could see his buddy in the same predicament on the far side and his heart sank. Unseen, Spydra bound off the two sets of webbing to each other, the youths now tethered together by a line running over the hood of the car.

The driver felt the pat of a hand on his back pocket and his wallet being tugged free as he lay prone in the pouring rain, his jeans soaking up water like a sponge.

“Hey!” the driver protested only to see the wallet fall to the ground open in front of his eyes, his driver's license removed from the little windowed pocket.

“Fuuuuck, please, what do you want? Come on man!” the driver pleaded.


The driver's eyes caught sight of his pistol being plucked up from the ground by the dark grey and black costumed vigilante. With some firm clicks the magazine splashed into a puddle quickly followed by a 'plop' of the round that had been in the chamber which was deftly ejected in one swift hand movement.

Spydra walked to the trunk of the car, her feet tracked by the passenger and the driver. The heroine popped open the trunk and inside she found the loot, the crate of beer, and lifted it with a mild grunt. The car rose slightly on its suspension, relieved of its burden and the driver growled in protest seeing his prize being taken.

“When I get out of this I'm going to fuck you up!” the driver barked as he slowly got more and more soaked in the rain.

Firing off a web Spydra hauled herself away, a gun, a drivers license and the rear license tag of the car also in her possession.



- - -

“Tommy had called the police when he found the beer missing and the young man freeing his feet from the glue over his shoes. Before the police came however, less than ten minutes after it was stolen, the crate of beer was slid back into the shop. There was an empty gun, a drivers license and a car's license plate. It may have been from the car blocking the alley but I cannot be sure,” Mrs Watanabe said as she watched Erin note down what she said.

“I gather the police took everything?” Erin asked, her pen pausing.

“I gave them the crate and the other things, yes. I have a copy of the CCTV too if it will help you. But there is one thing the police did not see….promise me you will not tell the police what I am about to show you?”

“What is it?”Erin asked with surprise.

“A note, I kept it from them. It wasn't an armed robbery and it wasn't in progress so the police were in no hurry to arrive. By the time they got here I knew the information in the note would not help them. Besides, I thought perhaps it would make the police more interested in our hero and less interested in the thieves so I hid it,” Mrs Watanabe confessed.

“I understand, you want to protect this person, this vigilante. I assure you for now I only want to learn more about them.” Erin said.

“Very well, Miss Tate, you may have it. It was damaged in the rain but it might help you. If you find this person show them this, tell them the person who received it is grateful,” Mrs Watanabe said as she opened the draw of her desk and placed the note in front of Erin.

Erin studied the note, its ink smudged by the rain and tried to read it. Stumbling through the words as she whispered the message to herself Erin began to decipher the water damaged message.

“I am returning this beer that was stolen. The people who took it are trapped a block north of you. If the police arrive in time they may still catch them. I see the other man who helped them has already escaped, sorry! The tag of the getaway car and the driver's license of the man who was behind the wheel are with the crate, I hope it helps the police when they arrive. Good luck... Spilcla err Sloydla... what the hell is that? Is that Polish or Russian maybe?” Erin wondered aloud.

“What is that?” Laura suddenly asked, standing unseen at the doorway. She had finished taking photos and after a short chat with the young man at the checkout had ventured to the back of the store.

Mrs Watanabe glanced nervously at Erin, anxious about the secret note but the reporter easily read her expression and understood her concern.

“Don't worry Mrs Watanabe, Laura my photographer here is very good at keeping secrets,” Erin said. She had been referring to Laura's abduction story not realising the full extent of the truth.

- - -




Jorge Cruz stirred sugar into his coffee, his gaze falling on the world outside the window of the diner. He was wondering why he had been summonsed out of the blue to meet with the man who sat a rung up the ladder from him in his little world as a street corner drug dealer.

The coffee, now sweet, was piping hot and it revitalised his senses. The smell, the taste, all helped bring him back to life after a night of misbehaving on the streets. Cruz's knuckles ached, as did his left eye which had a slight bruise. The waitress who had served him wiped down the counter top as the chef busily worked rustling up the all-day-breakfast that Cruz had ordered, the appetizing sound of sizzling bacon permeating into the his ears.

The diner door swung open and a man in jeans and a shirt entered. With a quick glance he spotted Cruz and approached before sitting on the bench seat opposite the other man.

“Hey, ” Cruz said before taking a mouthful of coffee.

“You ok? You're looking a little sore,” the shirted man said with a grin.

“Nothing I couldn't handle,” Cruz said, as he ruefully looked down at his grazed knuckles.

“Get the money out of them then?” the other man asked, his smile momentarily fading.

“Of course. Fuckin trash-talkers, I kicked the crap out of them,” Cruz said as he hands dived to his pocket for the money they spoke of.

“No, not here, later,” the man in the shirt cautioned seeing the waitress nearby.

“Whatever, so , what is this 'opportunity' you want to tell me about?” Cruz asked cynically.

“My guy has a job he wants doing. Do it good and he'll get you your own patch like me,” the man explained.

“Oh yeah, what patch?” Cruz asked calmly. His eyebrows rose as he saw the chef pass a plate across the serving hatch to the waitress.

“Brookside,” the shirted man said flatly. He was referring to a similarly unsavoury area but which bordered nicer parts of town. With access to more wealthy areas while providing a shadowy area to work from Brookside had been a stronghold of one particular gang.

“BROO...” Cruz began, the cup he was holding slamming onto the table. “Fuck, Flynn! Brookside? That's not your guy's patch to give,” Cruz said, lowering his voice as the waitress approached.

“Do you think we'd risk a little war? No, man, it's going to be ok,” Flynn began with his lecturing voice before lowering his tone as the waitress neared.

The waitress placed the plate of food in front of Cruz along with a napkin and knife and fork with a smile pretending not to notice the two men's heated moment.

“Can I get you anything?” she asked, looking at the newcomer to the diner.

“Just coffee – Black” Flynn replied, not taking his eyes off of Cruz.

The waitress smiled then turned away, returning to the counter.

“Fucking Brookside! If I wanted to get shot I'd join the army, go to one of those fucked up places like Iraq,” Cruz said as he he found a break between mouthfuls of food.

“You're not gonna get shot, moron.” Flynn said with a chuckle.

“Oh yeah? You try moving our shit over there and... POW!” Cruz said, reclining back into his bench seat with a scowl.

“But what if there was no one there to shoot you?” the shirted man explained.

There was a silent pause as the waitress came and went, delivering the coffee and topping up Cruz's cup following a silent offer and an accepting nod.

“What you sayin'?” Cruz asked, as he used a piece of toast to mop up the escaped remains of his fried egg.

“Eat up, I'll show you!” Flynn grinned.


The pair went on a short drive out to the nicer reaches of Brookside and parked a short distance from a house adorned with yellow police tape. A pair of police cars were parked in front and men in white overalls were carrying boxes of equipment back to their van.

“Jeezus, why are we here?” Cruz protested as he slunk into his seat.

“This is your ticket into the area. Think you could do what I do from there?” asked Flynn as they looked on.

“Right now, fuck no,” Cruz said nervously, keeping his eyes low.

“I mean, once they are done?” Flynn scoffed.

Cruz chewed some gum as he looked about him nervously. It wasn't a bad area, certainly better than where he was currently living. He was interested for sure but he had questions, especially as he was looking right at the police.

“And how the fuck am I going to do that?” Cruz asked doubtfully.

“All I know is what my man tells me. Cops are doing a sweep through Brookside. This was some stoner's place, others will be your opposition's operation. These houses are like ATM machines for cops. Get caught doing anything bad in them and poof, seized, forfeited and auctioned. That civil asset forfeiture shit is a bitch and it's all legal. The money the city raises gets kicked back to the cops as pensions and shit like that,”

“So, hows does that work for us?” Cruz asked, still confused.

“Every now and then a house like that one doesn't make it to auction. It doesn't even make it onto a list. Instead someone makes a token payment and takes it off the books. It's a steal. Sit on that house a while then sell it and suddenly you're up a lot of money. Even better it's clean money at the end of it,” Flynn explained.

“Shit, you're kidding,” Cruz exclaimed sitting up a little more in his seat.

“In a few weeks a .. colleague ... is gonna buy that place and in a year or so he's going to sell it. In between then, you are going to be sat in there doing your thing. This is where you are going to start your foot-hold in Brookside, Cruz” Flynn explained.

“OK, now I get it,” Cruz nodded.

“Uh huh, prime location, fresh start and the cops are going to be driving your opposition out for you,” the shirted man explained.

“What do I have to do?” Cruz asked, his voice suddenly intense.

“I told you dude, my boss has a job lined up for you,” Flynn said, hands on the wheel of his car.

“What is it?” Cruz asked looking back at him.

“It's serious, but it's simple-serious, you get me? If you want in, say now, but there's no backing out...”

Cruz looked longingly at the house again. Despite being adorned in police tape it could certainly end up being a good start for his own fledgling efforts to be his own boss. The man sat next to him had been his supplier in the chain for years and he had been working hard for him. Now he was being given a chance to develop his own spot and a route higher up into the supply chain. Purer product meant his cut went further and profits got bigger.

“Simple but serious?” Cruz asked again.

“Uh huh, but your reward is right there,” Flynn answered nodding at the direction of the house.

There was a pause as Cruz weighed the offer. Disappoint and he could be trapped in the little leagues for years. This was his chance for that little bit more power.

“OK, I'm in!” Cruz said confidently.

Flynn's grin went from ear to ear as he started the car and drove away, leaving the police and the house behind him.

- - -



Carl Thornton, Neyra's father stood amongst the other dignitaries under a small marquee that had been prepared for the midday ground-breaking ceremony. The rain had been threatening on and off all morning but it didn't dampen the mood. The men and women waiting for the mayor to arrive were in good spirits as they picked at the buffet. Amongst the group were members of the city council and business owners and all had come to celebrate the start of their collective effort.

Erin approached the roped off area with Laura at her side, their press badges on show and were waved through by a group of uniformed police officers who were minding the outer perimeter. Further on were some trench coat wearing staff from the mayor's office who were helping monitor access to the event. There were other papers reporters and their photographers present and Erin and Laura were ushered into the press area with them. There were polite acknowledgements between the different parties and the marquee soon was illuminated by the sporadic flashes of light from cameras as the photographers got to work. Approaching the press area a few of the dignitaries began to voluntarily chat with the reporters.

“Hello, sir, thank you for speaking with us”, Erin began with a friendly smile as an executive from the car engine assembly plant approached her. With her tape recorder raised in her hand she prepared to catch the moment for transcribing later.

“Ah, Erin, From the Bugle, right?” the executive began. His job at his company was to interact with the media all the time and he was familiar with the local journalists.

“That's right, so an exciting day yes? So would you like to just outline who you represent and your link to the event today?” Erin asked.

“Sure, so I'm Henry Stiles, Manager of public relations for AP&T. We are one of the larger employers here in the city assembling engines and transmissions for the automotive industry across several states. We have been proud to be part of this community for nearly forty years now. As part of our corporate responsibilities program we …....” Henry continued.

The words around Laura's ears melted into one long mush of sound as she took photographs of Erin and Henry talking but her special senses felt a presence elsewhere. Pausing from looking through her viewfinder Laura looked off to one side and caught sight of Neyra's father, Carl who also in that moment glanced back at her, the enigma in his daughter's life. There was a subtle acknowledgement of her in his eyes as he looked on. His daughter Neyra and Laura were an 'item' but as of yet he couldn't fathom all the intricacies of what held them together.

Neyra had previously been in several 'interesting' relationships from her father's perspective. One man was overbearing, almost stifling his daughter's own ambition. Another was so accommodating of Neyra's wants he wasn't a challenge for her. The first girlfriend in Neyra's life highlighted to her father that happiness could come from any quarter, and for a time there was that though even that relationship ended, the two parting ways on good terms. But Laura? She vexed Carl so far, the reason being the one key ingredient he couldn't see was that the plucky red head was gifted, she was Spydra.

Laura and Carl both blinked as they broke their glance towards each other, the moment over.


“....and so of course it is our pleasure to be a co-sponsor of what will be Southbridge's new civic center,” Henry Stiles said, finishing his interview with Erin.

“Ok, thank you for your time,” nodded Erin said as she clicked off her tape recorder.

“The pleasure has been all mine, and now, it appears the mayor and the deputy commissioner are here so,” Stiles let the point hang as he turned to go back with the other dignitaries.

There was some subtle applause as the Mayor entered the marquee, shaking hands with those who came to greet him. The deputy police commissioner, William Kohl, dressed in a dark blue greatcoat over his best blue uniform, cap on his head looked an imposing figure as he entered the scene. The Mayor began to mingle while Kohl seemed to avoid the spotlight as he walked to the edge of the marquee and looked out to the land to be developed. The island of land amongst a sea of other buildings was to be turned into the new civic center.

“It's incredible, isn't it?” said a voice from behind Kohl, it belonged to another dignitary, the owner of some car dealership.

Kohl looked on silently, lost in the moment as he looked over the muddy ground dotted with concrete foundations from what had stood there before.

“I remember when out here was the edge of town, now we are right in the middle of it,” the man continued.

Little did the man know that Kohl understood full well how things had changed. The patch of land had once been a building, one he had seen being built nearly twenty five years previously. When he had watched on as tonnes of concrete had buried his friend's corpse he thought his problems were gone forever. Little did he know that forever was not a great amount of time. The great changes that he said were coming to the town did happen. The AP&T plant expanded, other tech jobs came too and with all that, the university grew as did the schools. Housing came next as well as hospitals and before anyone knew it the ambitious large town had grown into a small city.

Now the city was churning the use of its land. What was once an out of town development was being recycled, into an inner city civil building. This was going to be the Mayor's civic center project with multiple stories and underground parking. And unfortunately for deputy commissioner William Kohl that meant the land in front of him was to be dug up, skeleton, lost police badge and all.

BOOFBOOFBOOF sounded some speakers as the mayor took to the podium and tapped the microphone, testing they worked.

“Ah good, we're on! Wow, well, I apologize for being a little late but William insisted I stick to the speed limit. I wish he hadn't pulled my limousine over in public to do it though,” the Mayor began, immediately drawing a few chuckles that completed his sentence.

“But I had to draw the line at the sobriety test,” the Mayor added, drawing more laughter.

William Kohl turned from his spot, his mood lifting slightly as he heard his name though he sensed Jake's ghost laughing at him from the hole he had buried him in. Laura snapped away as the small crowd clustered together to hear the Mayor speak while Erin raised her tape recorder aloft to capture the short speech.

“Well, it has been a long road to get to this point. Raising the funds, obtaining the land, overcoming all the objections ….” began the Mayor.

Unknown to Deputy Commissioner Kohl there was another person interested in that large plot of land he was standing on. Officer Ashley Hill with her partner for the day, Sargent Bishop drove slowly past the event, Ashley's eyes glancing across the ground and one slab of concrete in particular.

“Can it get any duller than this?” Laura thought to herself not sensing or seeing the hidden drama of the scene playing out around her.

Laura's more special senses worked in favour of her self preservation. Thoughts and acts set against her usually sent her signals that she was still only just getting fully used to but what passed between other people was lost to her. That particular gift, empathy, had been passed on to Jen, Laura's friend since childhood. Both had been born to their dying mothers just bitten by a weaponised spider which triggered both girls premature birth. It was that fateful moment that had passed on the spider like traits to the newborn girls and it was their shared story and their lost mothers that had bound them together until the more mundane aspects of their lives had pulled them apart.


- - -



Flynn reversed his car into a parking spot behind a small abandoned store and killed the engine.

“This it?” Cruz asked as he looked about his surroundings.

“Uh huh … if you are going to be ready you've got a lot of work to do,” Flynn said, staring at the back door of the store, its large rusting double steel doors hiding the secret inside.

“So, who's place is this?” Cruz wondered aloud.

“Sort of mine. The important thing to know is that you won't be disturbed here. So, ready to go?” Flynn asked, his eyes narrowing.

“Yeah, the sooner I start the sooner I finish,” Cruz said with determination.

“Come on then,” Flynn said as he opened his car door and stepped out, Cruz doing the same.
The alley was quiet but quite wide as it had been intended to let delivery vehicles offload their goods directly to the storeroom.

Flynn searched through his set of keys which jangled before he released the padlock securing the large backdoor of the store. The metal doors squeaked and groaned as they swung open and Flynn hit the light switch which was inside.

TINT --- TINK --- TINK-TINKTINK.

The fluorescent tubes with their familiar buzzzing blinked into life overhead and illuminated the room. The room was large and had black and white tiled walls and floors. Stacked up against a wall were thick rectangular wooden sheets, and wooden planks together with rolled up foam like material. There was a portable work bench set up in one corner with an extension reel plugged into an outlet nearby and a few tool boxes.

“Is this the room?” Cruz asked with a frown.

“No, it's through there,” Flynn said gesturing to a doorway.

“What's this for?” asked Cruz looking up at small old black TV mounted to the side of the doorway.

Flynn pressed the power switch and the old black and white TV flickered to life. For a moment the image was merely a white horizontal line which suddenly popped open to reveal the alley and doorway outside.

“CCTV, they use it so they know it is safe to open the stock room door,” Flynn said gruffly.

“OK, show me the other room,” Cruz said as Flynn powered off the screen.

The pair passed through a doorway that led to a corridor and off one side was another doorway. The rusted name plate just said 'Manager' and with yet another key Flynn opened the door.

“Why this room?” Cruz asked flatly as he hit the light switch. What appeared to be an office was illuminated by a solitary standard bulb hanging from a cord which shone painfully bright. There was also a desk and some old filing cabinets in the cube shaped room which had an old worn grey carpet.

“The managers office had a safe so they made the room with breeze block not a stud wall,” Flynn grinned.

Cruz stood hands on hips as he spun around taking in the room, assessing the work he needed to do.

“How long have I got?” Cruz asked.

“For this? Get it done for eight. We grab her tonight,” Flynn said.

“Tonight, shit that's tight,” Cruz said with surprise. He glanced at his watch and counted the remaining hours.

“Shit happens, right?” Flynn said with a shrug.

“If I have no problems with tools this should be easy but if this is all going to be for a few days then we need something for her to sleep on and some handcuffs or something,” Cruz said imagining what it was going to take to get ready.

“There are some chains and shit in one of the boxes. We've also got a mattress coming and some bedding but beyond that it's on you to keep her fed and watered,” Flynn said, folding his arms as his protege planned his work.

“OK, let me get on with it,” Cruz said.

“Fine, here are the keys,” Flynn said as he passed Cruz a jangling bunch of keys. “I'll be back at eight, you have my number if you need anything,” Flynn added.

“Sure,” Cruz said as the pair turned and made their way back to the tiled room which would function as Cruz's workshop.

Flynn glanced back one last time as he left to see Cruz slip off his jacket and then left. Now alone Cruz flipped open the tool boxes, his mind quickly compiling an inventory of what he had. Rifling through one box he found a measuring tape and screws and nails, a pencil and plumb line together with a spirit level and a host of other wood working hand tools.

Cruz knew he had to measure the size of the large wooden chipboard sheets first so he would know the spacing required for the batons that would hold the sheets to the office wall. In the spaces between the existing wall and the wooden framed wall and ceiling he was going to construct would be the soundproofing material that would muffle the cries of his soon-to-be hostage.

Cruz's mind stopped a moment in curiosity as to who it was he was being asked to keep in his makeshift soundproof prison. He had been told it was a woman during the journey but other than a few details he knew very little of who he would be keeping there. The only other thing was that he had to keep her prisoner for a few days, taking a few photo's of her with a daily paper as time went on as proof of life before eventually letting her go. To Cruz it seemed strange that there was no money to be demanded for the effort but his own personal goal was getting his promised reward, a place higher up in the chain of drug dealers.

Beyond the metal double doors Cruz heard Flynn's car come to life, the rumble of the exhaust echoing off the metal door's surface. Cruz imagined himself in a cool ride like Flynn's, something that would come easier when he started taking more of a cut for himself. Right now he was practically at the end of the line of supply. A move up and away from exposing himself to being caught dealing on the streets was a big attraction. Smirking to himself Cruz pulled a length of heavy chain from a box and gave it a few good yanks to test its strength and scoffed.

“I've no idea who you are, Neyra-Whatever-Your-Name-Is but you're how I am gonna get a better piece of the action around here,” Cruz said ominously.

Slamming the chain back into its box Cruz snatched up the tape measure and pencil and began his work.

- - - - -




Erin and Laura returned back to the offices of The bugle once the groundbreaking ceremony was over. The slight chill that had embraced their first meeting that morning had slowly thawed, more due to Laura's determined efforts than any effort on Erin's part but Laura's investment was starting to pay off.

“Right, I need to turn these notes into a story, but first …..” Erin began, her eyes scanning the open plan office as she paused.

Laura frowned as Erin scanned with her eyes.

“There he is, come with me ...” Erin said confidently as she led Laura towards ….

“Hey Chris, two minutes?” Erin asked.

Chris, a bearded man in his forties concluded his conversation with Barnes, the chief editor who waved him off seeing he was about to be needed. Chris turned with surprise to see Erin and a stranger in front of him.

“Hey, Erin and errr oh, you must be the new temp ummm... Louise... no, Laura! ” Chris began, his expression subtly changing from a frown to gradual realisation.

“Good guess. Laura, Chris, Chris, Laura,” Erin began as she turned to face Laura. “Laura, Chris is deputy editor and is in charge of editing image assets..”

“Oh like, photos, graphics, banners, titles, that sort of stuff?” Laura jumped in.

“Oh finally a temp who knows at least something!” Chris said with a grin.

“Chris, can I leave Laura with you, show her some of the ropes? Only, I've got to get these notes down,” Erin said, a finger tapping her bag and no doubt the notepad inside.

“Sure, lets hit my desk,” Chris said with an arm gesturing towards one of the few offices on the floor.

Laura followed Chris into his office, the glass wall still allowing her to see everything transpiring beyond.

“Have you been given a work logon for the site?” Chris asked as he took a seat at his desk adorned with an array of monitors to help with his work.

“Oh sure, I can upload my files to there or just give you the memory card while I am here?” Laura replied as she popped open her camera and handed over the card holding all her images from the day.

“Uh huh, upload is good but I prefer you to turn stuff in by hand. Call me old fashioned but I find it easier to work and plan my time when the media is in my hand. I can miss when uploads happen and then that turns into a bad day,” Chris confessed. As he spoke he pulled off the images from the memory card then handed it back to Laura.

“Oh ok, well, I guess I am tied to Erin for now so I will be here when she is,” Laura said as she glanced out the window to see Erin furiously typing out her interviews from the ground-breaking ceremony.

“Well I hope you can keep up with her. She strikes me as being ambitious,” Chris said, his eyes glancing off to one side for a split second in Erin's direction before focusing back on the screen.

“Yes, I think I've seen that side of her already,” Laura replied referring to their initial faltering steps at a working relationship.

“Hmmmm, what are these about?” Chris asked as he pulled one of Laura's images to the fore on one of his screens. The seemingly innocuous street photos didn't seem relevant to anything.

“Oh those? They are for Erin. She's developing some story. Sorry, I should have given you ….” Laura said as she paused, patting her camera bag for her notepad.

“You've done a cheat sheet?!” Chris asked, hopefully. Temps would often hit the ground running, photographing all and sundry only to return with a hundred photos and no recollection of what they were about. Good photographers made notes to help their editors understand what they were looking at.

“A what? Errr it's just a list of ...” Laura began as she clumsily searched.

“Well, that's day one's lesson blown out of the water. Let me see,” Chris beamed as he offered out his hand and accepted the list once Laura found it.

“I was a bit hazy about some of the names of the VIP's at the ceremony but I think I nailed most of it correctly,” Laura winced apologetically as Chris took a quick look at Laura's photo list, clicking through the images that went with her captions.

“This …..” Chris began, “...is good work, Laura. Are you studying journalism or what? I wasn't aware they were doing that at the university,” Chris said with a frown. Skipping through Laura's notes and comparing them to her pictures she had for the better part identified the VIP's correctly.

“Journalism? Oh no, but I am in the photography club at the university. One of my course modules did have a photography section in it and I guess that got me interested. I am studying to be ...” Laura explained only to be suddenly cut off by Chris' raised hand as he picked up his phone which began to ring.

“Yep?” Chris answered. “Uh huh, okay, okay, yeah I am at my desk now, yeah send it over I'll fix it, okay, bye!”

“Everything ok?” Laura asked as Chris concluded his call with a deep sigh.

“There is a glitch with some bar chart for a finance graphic, an issue with the colouring and how it will come out in print. I need to get it adjusted,” Chris said as he glanced at his watch before his fingers began to clatter across his keyboard.

“OK, so another time then?” Laura asked as she realised Chris needed to focus elsewhere.

“Sorry, yes. Between our regular newspaper deadlines and what we feed the internet news providers things can get a bit fraught. But good work and catch you later,” Chris said gesturing to the office door.

“Thank you,” Laura said as she turned and left the office.

Laura walked over to Erin who was typing furiously at her keyboard. She had conducted several interviews at the ground breaking ceremony and was crafting an objective piece. The civic building project was a collective effort by many of the local business leaders and Erin knew she was to put things in a positive light while trying to avoid it becoming a free advertisement.

“Hey,” Laura said quietly.

“What did he say?” Erin said with surprise, not expecting Laura back so soon. Erin's eyes did not leave her screen as it seemed to fill with words only to then cut and splice them before pasting them elsewhere.

“He got busy, some problem with a graphic,” Laura replied as she glanced back at Chris' office.


“Well, while you are free take this to the media room and see what you can do with this relic” Erin said, one hand delving into her bag and producing the VHS cassette from the shop before handing it over to Laura.

“You have a player for this? OK, one twenty first century edition coming up!” Laura said as she studied the clunky cassette from Watanabe's store. She wondered how much of an appearance her Spydra self had made during her little foray during the robbery.


- - - - - - -

Neyra Thornton was sat on the edge of a leather sofa in a world of her own as she worked on a sketch. Across from her a husband and wife were speaking to a designer about their dream house.

“Tell me about the kitchen space. Are you big into cooking, or is it a minor aspect of you life?” asked the designer as he took notes.

The middle aged couple glanced at each other with a knowing smile before answering.

“Well the truth is it's the main reason we opted to have a house built for us. We love cooking and yet nothing we saw on the market came close to what we wanted,” began the husband.

“Kitchens are either too small or seem have been an afterthought and we want something that is more central to our lives,” the wife continued.

Neyra nodded quietly to herself as her drawing hand went into a whirl. Her eyes fell momentarily on the designer who gave her a knowing look. The pair had talked about some of his more unique ideas and he was hoping Neyra was bringing it to life for them as the discussion went on.

“OK, so, you like to do more in the kitchen than many. So, you need preparation space, maybe an island cooker, that kind of thing?” the designer went on.

Neyra's sweeping hand began to conjure up a circular ring of counter tops surrounding an island housing a large range that sat beneath a ventilator. The kitchen sat stylishly within a circular dining room and ….

Neyra tore off the sheet putting it aside and began again. Now the counter tops were in a square formation stood inside a glass walled cube which occupied the core of the floor...

An hour later the meeting was over and the group stood in the office reception area. With handshakes concluded the couple were leaving, an array of sketches in a folder in their hands. Neyra said her goodbyes with a wide smile on her face certain that with her sketches she may have helped her designer sell his idea of their ideal home.

“Oh Neyra, a courier came while you were in the conference room. There were two packages that I have signed for. They are on your desk,” the receptionist said.

“Oh good, they have arrived, thank you!” Neyra smiled then returned to her office.

Sat on the desk of her office awaited the two low profile boxes held closed with string and with a few quick swipes of her scissors Neyra freed the lids. Lifting the top of the first lid she saw a layer of tissue paper and parted it to reveal a white silk dress. It was hers for the benefit dinner for the night to come and inside the other box was …

Popping open the lid Neyra revealed what she had sought for Laura. The short deep green silk chinese style dress was going to turn heads for sure but Neyra's mind was more on what she was going to do with Laura once they got home after the event. Biting her bottom lip Neyra confirmed her office door was closed then slowly lifted the dress from its box and held it up. The fabric was soft and smooth and she imagined it containing Laura's warm firm body beneath. The split sides would reveal some thigh and the close fit would hide nothing. Usually in jeans or leggings or something sports related Neyra revelled in the idea of finally getting Laura into a dress and ….

BLEEEEEEP

Startled like she had been caught Neyra spun to her intercom and realised it would be reception advising her of the next appointment. With an embarrassed smile Neyra reverently folded the dress back into its box good as new, and closed it ready for the night to come.

= = = =



Erin shut off the engine of her car and unbuckled her seatbelt, Laura doing the same while her head ducked forward to take in the scene around her. This part of Brookside was quiet and generally a bit nice than the the rest of it. Lawns were generally better kept and property owners kept their houses maintained. At any rate there was certainly a lot less graffiti here than in other parts of this particular borough.

“We won't be here too long I think. Then after we will get to the Police public relations office for their release,” Erin said.

“Sure,” Laura replied as she checked her camera bag before releasing the passenger side door.

Erin stepped on the pavement and looked at the house wrapped with Police tape, a copy of a court order tapped to the boarded over front door.

“Two people dead? Does this happen often?” Laura asked of Erin who was making notes.

Laura pulled out her camera and began to check her settings before raising the viewfinder to her eyes, taking photos of the house.

“A few a year,” Erin replied with a sigh as she spun around looking at the neighbouring houses.

“What went wrong, do we know?” Laura asked.

“All I know so far is that the PD executed a warrant and then there was a shooting,” Erin said calmly.

“So, eye witnesses?” Laura ventured as she scrawled notes on her notepad, camera dangling from her neck.

“Hmmm, people round here rarely want to talk,” Erin said quietly. She knew the neighbourhood well, people rarely 'saw' things, especially when they happened on their doorstep.

Laura could feel eyes on her as she stood there in the open with Erin. It was a sensation that Laura had become accustomed to but she was ever aware of the presences around her, the gift of her spider-like lineage.

“Well, I think the house opposite might contain something useful,” Laura hinted, her head subtly gesturing at the house behind her.

“Oh?” Erin said with a frown.

“I think the occupant has been watching us the moment we arrived,” scoffed Laura as she put her notepad away.

Erin glanced at the house in question in time to see the curtains twitch causing the young reporter to smile. Laura was turning out to be a better partner than she imagined.

“Time to see if someone wants to make a comment,” Erin said as she strode up the garden path to the front door Laura following close behind.

Erin glanced back Laura as she waited on the doorstep and then confidently pressed the doorbell which produced a shrill ringing sound from behind the door. Laura's eye, tutored by Lucy Wuan automatically studied the property. Good quality double glazed windows indicated the resident was security conscious as did the alarm box on the wall which was a known brand and what might be a security camera.

There was a pause but through the rippled glass panes set into the top of the door it was possible to see a hint of movement and quickly the sounds of latches, catches, bolts and chains could be heard. Cautiously the lady of the house opened the door until the safety chain was held taught on its hook.

“Hello?” asked the elderly lady.

“Hi, my name is with Erin Tate, I am a reporter with the local paper. I was hoping that perhaps I could ask you about the shooting that occurred this morning,” Erin explained as she held out her press badge.

“Ooooh, it's YOU! I know you, from the paper!” the lady said, her sweet voice reflecting her age.

“That's right, I ….” Erin began, her ego momentarily stroked and provoking her to smile even more.

“Oh not you,” the lady said peering over Erin's head at Laura.

Laura blushed with a subtle wave before the withering gaze from Erin caused her to look down to the floor with an embarrassed grin.

“Oh, you mean ...” Erin continued her smile fading fast.

“Yes the Hockey Girl! Come in, come in, please...” said the lady with a smile.

Soon the two young women were sat in the living room of the house. Caroline, the widowed retiree who lived there kindly put out some coffee, some cookies sitting on a plate between the cups.

“So, you had no idea that the men living opposite you were involved with narcotics?” Erin asked as she continued her interview.

“They were good boys, it's all nonsense. Steven, he was so nice, he helped fix my roof one time and even cleaned the guttering!” Caroline said.

“Did you ever see people coming or going?” Erin followed on.

“Now and then, but they often went off out with the people that came. They seemed more like friends to me, not drug addicts and dealers,” Caroline said, shaking her head.

“So, can you tell me what happened this morning?” Erin asked, changing the subject.

“Oh it was dreadful, the police came scurrying across the gardens to their house. Then they burst in, and before I knew it there was shooting. Then just when I thought it ended there were a few more shots and it was over. There was a lot of shouting and dogs barking too,” Caroline said, evidently upset.

“Did the police say anything?” Erin asked innocently as she continued to write.

“Oh they were yelling they had a warrant and for them to lay down. It must have been terrifying for the boys,” Caroline added.

As Erin and Caroline spoke Laura discreetly glanced about the room. In one corner where the ceiling met the wall was a what looked like a camera mounted under a deep blue dome, the cable trailing leading off towards some central point no doubt.

“Errr, Ma'am, is it possible you might of caught the raid on one of your security cameras?” Laura said, subtly interrupting the interview.

“Oh,” Erin said with a frown as she glanced around to see Laura point at the domed camera mount.

“Oh, I …... I don't know. It is possible I suppose. Let me show you were that infernal black box is,” Caroline said, rising to her feet.

Half an hour later and Erin and Laura were driving off to the police station, memory stick in Laura's hands. Tucked inside a cupboard Caroline's grandson had installed a HDD recorder for her cameras that ran on loop. Helpfully the simple manual was kept with the recorder and Laura had easily offloaded the contents onto a pen drive.

“That was a good job back there, thank you,” Erin said gratefully.

“Thanks, I want to do the best I can for you,” Laura replied humbly.

“You know what the best would be for me,” Erin said, Laura's words touching a nerve. Erin was sure the best Laura could ever do for her was tell her more about the mass abduction case she was caught up in.

“I've already told you I can't do that but who knows what might be on this!” joked Laura, avoiding a squabble.

“Sure, everyone's a sucker for 'Dramatic Moment When...' videos” Erin said a little forlornly, her eyes rolling a moment. The contents of the memory stick were no doubt going to be a distant second place to an exclusive interview with the Hockey Girl.

“Well if it gets attention for you and the paper it's not a bad thing,” Laura wondered aloud.

“I guess not. Now, let's see if we can get a comment or two from the Police. Some would just phone in and try and get something but if you show up on their doorstep it can sometimes get some progress,” Erin said as she pulled into the parking lot of the police headquarters and the reserved media parking area.

Laura and Erin exited the car and made their way to the building. There was an x-ray machine and metal detector arch to go through first but soon the pair were through and into the main lobby area.
Erin who knew the way led Laura on down one of the corridors towards the public relations office that was on the ground floor.

“I will introduce you to Peter who works there. You never know, you might have to run an errand here for me at some point,” Erin suggested as the pair made a corner.

Stood talking directly in front of them, coffee cup in hand stood a steely grey haired Captain in his smart dark blue uniform talking to someone in a suit with a grin. Seeing Erin arrive the Captain and his colleague glanced to each other and said their goodbyes, the suited man leaving the scene.

“Hello Erin, here about the shooting no doubt?” the Captain asked. His tone hinted at his disdain for dealing with the press.

“Fatal shooting,” Erin retorted, underlining the word 'fatal' with her voice.

“Yes, that was unfortunate,” the Captain said, looking sombre for a moment.

“Is there anything you would like to say about the incident,” Erin asked as her hand fell to her bag, plucking out her tape recorder.

“Erin as you know when we have a police related fatal shooting there is an internal investigation to do first, but Peter will help you with an official press comment. Now if you ladies will excuse me I have a meeting to attend,” the Captain added then with a polite nod of the head walked away.

With the steel grey haired Captain gone Laura grasped Erin's wrist before the pair walked on to the public relations office, stopping the reporter in her tracks.

“What's wrong?” Erin asked with a frown, glancing at her restrained wrist then up at Laura.

“Who was that?” Laura asked.

“Sorry, I should have introduced you. That was Captain Thompson, err Craig I think. He is in charge of the SWAT unit, why?” Erin replied.

“Is he okay? I mean, good?” Laura asked with an anxious look back over her shoulder.

“He can be a real dick sometimes but I guess he's a good cop. Why what's up?” Erin asked, wondering what had gotten into her colleague all of a sudden.

“Nothing, I guess. He just made me feel uncomfortable, that's all,” Laura replied, releasing Erin's wrist.

“I guess I know what you mean. He was probably complete jock material once upon a time,” Erin scoffed.

“Yeah, when there were dinosaurs,” joked Laura. She tried to sound jovial yet the Captain had left her feeling very wary.

“Come on then, let's introduce you to Peter,” Erin said as she led Laura away.


= = = = = = = = = = = = =



Officer Ashley Hill stood by her open locker and began to undress. Removing her belt first she hung it on a hook near the rear of her locker then began to remove her bullet proof vest. The velcro was strong and needed a firm pull before before the satisfying shredding sound of hooks and eyes being parted could be heard. Her tie came next, a wiggle of her hand at her neck releasing the clip-on from her shirt. Buttons were carefully undone next, parting her shirt and revealing her sports bra beneath. Loosely folding her shirt she tossed in into her holdall and then she undid her pants. Soon she was left standing in her dark blue socks, sports bra and cycle short-like-panties which the young officer finally peeled off, tossing them into her holdall with everything else.

Inside the stalls Ashley let the water run hot over her and began to work with the soap. About fifteen percent of the Littleton City Police Department's officers were women, about average, and so showering would sometimes be a lonely experience for her. Soon she was clean and dry and back at her locker, dressing in her civilian clothes. Her department had an 'Off-Duty-Carry' policy and so she slid her service pistol into her holster which she carried on the left side of her torso under her leather jacket.

Looking around guiltily Ashley had one last task to do. Standing on a wooden bench Ashley reached to a ceiling panel, lifting it slightly and reaching into the roof space, pulling out a voice recorder and putting another in its place. Ashley picked up her bike helmet then after checking everything was gathered up or stowed away she turned and left, walking from the locker room and passing the men's area where she could hear their banter through the door, Sargent Bishop's deep laughter permeating the most. She could imagine the closely shorn Sargent telling some inappropriate joke which kept him somehow popular with the men. Ashley listened a moment then walked on through the station and with a polite “see you!” to the men manning the desk she left.

Ashley's trusty steed, her fiery red 300cc Honda motorbike awaited in the parking lot. Its power and size made it a good all-rounder, not overpowered enough to be a chore when cooped up on the city streets yet had adequate pace once she was beyond the emerging sprawl and out on the open roads. Helmet on Ashley mounted up, checked her mirrors and with a turn of the key and the press of a button brought the motor to life.

The motor purred as Ashley eased her way to the exit and the barrier rose as she waved her parking permit badge past the contactless reader. With a cautious burst of power Ashley edged up to the junction and made her turn on to the road and was away.

VWWWWRRRRRRR VRUM VWRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!

= = = = = = = = = = = = =

Laura and Erin walked back into the offices of The Bugle and made their way to Erin's desk. Erin sat down in her chair and logged in, watched by Laura.

“Right, I have to turn in this story about the shooting,” Erin began.

“Aren't you going to watch the video from the house?” Laura frowned.

“Sure, I will do that in a moment but you have other things to do,” Erin said, gesturing her head at Chris' office.

“Oh sure, photos,” Laura realised.

“Yep, me, reporter, you, photographer,” Erin said as she began to concentrate on her other work.

“You're the boss,” Laura sighed and began to turn away.

“Hey, Laura. Good start today. If only just a few of our temps came out the blocks as quick as you,” Erin conceded.

“Thanks,” Laura smiled softly before walking away.

Erin flexed her hands and placed her notepad tape recorder and the pen drive on her desk together with the press release she had collected from the Police headquarters. The day was moving from afternoon to early evening and Erin had deadlines to meet.


= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =


Across town Jorge Cruz sweated as he raised another board and butted it up against its neighbour, trapping the soundproof insulation behind it between the wooden batons. Cruz presented a galvanized steel screw that he had held between his teeth to the wood and reaching for the drill used the smooth variable speed motor to drive the screw home.

ZEEEOOOOOOOOOWWWW CLICK CLICK CLICK

The torque limiter protested as the screw was tightened to its limit, the head flush with the panel's surface. One by one Cruz burrowed the screws into the wood until it was fully secure. No one without tools was going to be able to get that back off and the woman he was to keep hostage was going to be lucky just to have the clothes she stood in once he took charge of her.

Standing back from his handiwork Cruz glanced around at the fully panelled and soundproofed walls. The ceiling was next. He intended to make it like the walls, one continual surface and packaged in a box was a new ceiling light that would replace the crude fixture hanging from a power cord. The floor was now bare concrete, no escape that way, and behind the wooden walls was brick. Cruz looked at the spot the safe had once sat, a have duty eye-bolt now set in where one regular bolt had held the safe in place. Leading off the eyebolt was the length of heavy chain, ready to restrain his captive.

“Poor bitch,” sneered Cruz as he imagined whoever this Nerya was, one ankle secured to the chain. Old or young, hot or not, she was going to be his escape from his low life street corner drug dealer existence.

Glancing at his watch Cruz knew time was growing short, but there was time enough for him to finish the work at hand.

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

Ashley sat laying on the sofa in her small apartment, laptop resting on her thighs, headphones on her head and a small bottle of beer in one hand. This was what the young police officer did with much of her spare time, listen to her secretly obtained recordings. The ritual was always the same, copy the recorded data over to her laptop then look for tell tale signs of activity, spikes on the chart that ran along the width of her screen.

She had begun to record her colleagues in the neighbouring locker room when she accidentally overheard a conversation about something called “The Club”. What she heard she didn't like but she was sure it had something to do with the deputy chief, the man who had lured her father to his death. Driven to learn more Ashley Hill had maintained her secret vigil from across the gender divide hoping to uncover what “The Club” was truly about.

In snatches she had captured what she thought hinted at corruption. Favours and privileges could be bought if blind eyes could be turned it seemed. So far there was nothing serious but it was enough to raise doubts in Ashleys' mind about some of her colleagues. Typical things like making traffic infractions go away seemed to be the start of the slippery slope for some but if that was the smoke she was sure the seat of the fire was not far away.

Glancing up at the wall Ashley looked at the spiderweb of red cotton linking names and photos of people in the mix. Ashley was sure she was looking at the tip of an iceberg but couldn't be sure how much lay hidden below the thin blue veneer she was looking at.

Looking back at her laptop and a set of audio spikes that occurred shortly after her shift began that morning Ashley pressed a headphone into her ear and listened intently to learn what was being said. Inane locker room banter or guarded chat about what favour was being sought this time? Eyes widening Ashley focused on the voices trying to figure out who the owners were.

“What are you up to?” Ashley mouthed to herself.


= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

Laura returned to Erin's desk and observed over the reporter's shoulder the grainy capture of the convenience store. On the floor of the shop was the man that Spydra, out of shot, had bundled to the ground as he had tried to get into the get away car with his stolen crate of beer. Laura gasped to herself as she saw the man's feet suddenly engulfed with her web before Erin pressed pause.

“You're back, Chris all done with you?” asked Erin, sensing Laura's presence.

“Yes, and Mr Barnes was there too, he said I could go now. Chris gave me some good tips after going over my first batch of pictures from the ceremony and the store this morning,” Laura replied.

“Good. Oh, talking of the store, what do you make of THAT?” Erin asked, her puzzlement evident in her tone as she tried to zoom in on the white web around the man's feet in the video. With a circling finger Erin pointed out all too painfully to Laura what she was interested in.

“Odd, I don't know. Is it paint?” Laura replied, evasively.

“Maybe or … is that glue? Wait, isn't that what ….” Erin paused with a frown as she consulted her notes.

“Is that what the shop owner said?” Laura asked hopefully.

“Yes, she said glue as well, but … I don't know” Erin replied, her head cocked to one side as she replayed the moment again.

“Errrr, what about the video from the house? Did you watch that too?” Laura asked, changing subject.

“Oh that? It's actually pretty dramatic for what it is. It's certainly going to make for good clickbait for the online edition,” Erin quipped as she dragged another video window to the foreground, the moment paused near the start of the section she had clipped from all the rest.

“Is that the best shot?” Laura asked. The view was a low angle from the porch of the old lady's house and had managed to catch some of the SWAT team gathered at the side of the house across the road.

“Yeah, sit and watch. I need a coffee and have to speak to Barnes so don't wait for me to come back. Looks like I've got a long night ahead,” Erin said rising from her desk.

“Oh?” Laura queried as she took Erin's place at the desk.

“There is a benefit event tonight that I have to cover,” Erin replied, rolling her eyes.

“Oh that? I ...” Laura began to say.

“Relax, the event is providing a photographer, heaven forbid we might catch something they don't want us to publish,” Erin finished before heading away.

“But..!” Laura began to protest as Erin left. With a shake of the head and a sigh Laura ran the video that Erin had queued up for her and watched and listened.

Tilting her head Laura absorbed the sights and sounds of the raid, closing her eyes as the SWAT team entered the house and only sound became relevant. The scene seemed to run to its conclusion then stopped. With a frown Laura picked up the press statement from the Police and read it again before dragging the slider on the video back to the start and listened once more with a puzzled expression on her face.

“Errr....” Laura shook her head as she plucked up a pen from Erin's desk and a post-it note.

She was conscious of time passing and had to go but she at least wanted to leave a query for her colleague before she left.

= = = = = = = = = = =


Neyra tapped gently on her father's open office door breaking the concentration drawn across his face. With a glance up his expression softened as he smiled at seeing his daughter.

“Is everything ok?” Carl asked seeing Neyra's bemused look.

“I am just making sure you are aware of the time,” Neyra explained with a smile of her own. The tall black beauty clung to the frame of the doorway somehow making it into a work of art just by virtue of her presence.

“I've not forgotten the event, honestly,” chuckled Carl as he leaned back into his seat.

“I know how engrossed you can get in your spreadsheets,” Neyra cautioned. She had often seen her father lose hours as he tweaked and played with numbers trying to get a project to budget.

“It's the civic centre. We promised we would do our part at cost and I just want to make sure everyone gets a fair deal. I don't mind not making a profit on this, it's for the city after all,” Carl explained as he rubbed his eyes.

“It's not a problem, is it?” Neyra asked with concern.

“This? No, it just needs to be managed properly. It helps that our material's supplier is being pretty transparent with their numbers too. I was quite surprised they were able to do it,” Carl added, gesturing to his screen at some unseen email or report.

“I guess you never thought it would actually get going,” Neyra reminded her father.

Carl scoffed with a nod as he remembered all the bureaucracy, red tape and objections that had at times brought the whole project to a standstill. It was only the Mayor's determination that had finally gotten the project to this point.

“Well, I am finished for today. We will see you there in your best?” Neyra checked.

“Sure, and I trust that Laura will be too!” Carl began with a grin.

“You will just have to wait and see, won't you father? Besides, she could wonder the same thing about you!” Neyra said mischievously.

Carl could be a man of extremes, dressing well in the office only to end up looking very casual at his home. Laura only really saw Carl when they visited him there and rarely saw him in anything formal.

“To be fair she didn't look so bad at her work today. She was at the ground-breaking ceremony,” Carl conceded.

“'So bad'? I thought she looked good,when I sent her on her way this morning” Neyra explained.

“Hmmm, and why do I suspect it was you who was responsible for that?” Carl chuckled. He knew full well that Neyra must have used a crowbar to extricate Laura from her jeans to be seen out dressed as smartly as she was.

“I might have had a hand in some of that,” Neyra replied coyly. Neyra had insisted Laura at least get towards the smart end of casual for her work and finally got her into smart trousers, a skirt a step too far for the tomboy heroine.

“Well I look forward to seeing you both this evening. You do realise you are probably going to turn heads,” Carl said.

“I would be disappointed if we didn't!” Neyra said as she turned away back out the doorway.

Carl smirked as his daughter left. Little did she know how much like her mother she had turned out to be.

= = = = = = = = = =

Jorge Cruz rotated his shoulders in their joints which ached from his efforts. The ceiling panels were done and the domed plastic light fitting had been fitted into a circular cut out he had prepared. The soundproofed cell was ready. Sweeping away the sawdust from all the drilling and the discarded insulation from the re-wiring the room was now bare but clean, the only indication of its future use the chain bolted to the concrete floor.

Time was approaching fast for Flynn to return and Cruz began to pack tools into their cases so that he would be ready. He wasn't left waiting long when the rumble of the exhaust of Flynn's car began to echo off the big heavy metal double doors that formed the entrance to the tiled stockroom where Cruz had cut the timbers for his DIY prison project. The tap of Flynn's knuckles on the doors declared his arrival and Cruz ushered the other man inside.

“How is it going?” Flynn asked as noticed the timber that had been in the tiled stock room was gone.

“Done, wanna look?” Cruz grunted as he clapped his hands together, shaking off more sawdust from his hands.

“Sure, show me,” Flynn replied with a nod.

The pair walked to the former manager's office and Cruz opened the door, flicking on the light switch as he did so.

Flynn glanced around at the now featureless room with its neat wood panelled walls and nodded approvingly.

“Now I don't want you getting ideas in your head, no rough stuff with the bitch while we have her. We only need to keep her out the way for a while” Flynn cautioned. Cruz had evidently set his mind on doing things right and Flynn wanted to make sure his efforts were pointed in the right direction.

“Sure, whatever you say, I know what I'm doing,” Cruz replied.

“Good lad, so, all set then?” Flynn asked.

“Yeah, what we doing next?” Cruz said as he pulled the door closed behind them.

“We are going to get you set up with your ride and some decent clothes,” Flynn replied with a grin.

“What's wrong with what I've got on?” Cruz said, looking down at his jeans.

“Jeezus, come on, I will tell you on the way,” Flynn said with a shake of the head.

“What? What's wrong with this!?” Cruz protested gruffly as the pair made the way out the storeroom, turning out the light and sealing the metal double doors firmly behind them.

Through the doorway the muffled voices of Cruz and Flynn could be heard fading away. The clunk of the car doors closing echoed into the stock room just before the engine of Flynn's car rumbled back into life and they were gone.

= = = = = = = = = = = = =

Laura returned to the house she shared with Neyra. Public transport from the city center to the more urban areas at the edge was good and with only a short walk needed at either end of her journeys, also very practical. Despite being able to drive owning a car would have to wait. Laura didn't want to take on something she would have to maintain and insure when her life as a student meant little money was coming in. Even Neyra's offers to take care of it for her fell on deaf ears.

“Hey!” beamed Neyra on seeing Laura arrive.

Laura knew that Neyra would be focused on her first day at The Bugle.

“Hey,” smiled Laura softly as the two shared an embrace, Laura's cheek settling on Neyra's shoulder, the leggy black beauty being somewhat taller than her more compact sporty companion.

“So, how was it?” Neyra asked as the embrace broke.

“Good, I think. Well, I didn't get fired so that was good,” quipped Laura.

“Well, what did you do, who did you see? Anything good?” Neyra asked enthusiastically.

“I got partnered up with one of the reporters, Erin, she's ok, I think,” began Laura as she started to retell of her day.

“OK, and what did you get up to? Father said he saw you at the ground-breaking ceremony,” Neyra said as she elegantly placed herself on a sofa, her legs folding as she curled into a corner, patting her side.

“Yes, that was later, but there was a different story before that,” Laura said cryptically as she sat on the sofa and leaned across, her head coming to rest against Neyra's thighs.

“Oh, and what was that?” Neyra said quietly as one of her slender hands came to rest atop of Laura's head, her dark fingers combing through Laura's red hair.

“Me! Well, Spydra, oh and me too as well I guess,” Laura said with a happy smile forming, her eyes closed as Neyra combed her hair with her fingers.

“Spydra?” Neyra said, a little concerned.

“I guess rumours are starting to come out about her activities. You remember the other night and the convenience store I told you about?” Laura said.

“Oh and the beer,” nodded Neyra.

“Uh huh, Erin was checking it out. She's got a little web-on-thug action on tape. It was bound to happen eventually I guess,” Laura explained.

“I guess, but, you said the other story was about you too, or did you mean Spydra?” Neyra asked.

“Hockey Girl,” Laura said with a sigh.

“Jeez, if I got a royalty for every time ...” Neyra said, stopping herself before she finished her sentence. She knew she had said that line enough to people already. Hockey-Girl was her comic like sketch of Laura that had somehow become synonymous with their mystery disappearance and those of the other hundred and more women.

“I know, well, once Erin realised who I was she wanted me to spill on the case, like any of us can do that,” Laura explained.

“I know but everyone says it is for the best,” Neyra nodded, taking pleasure from seeing Laura relaxing, her head more or less on her lap.

“Well anyway, Erin was in a bit of a grump as I wouldn't help her with that but I think I made up for it later. With a little hint of Spydra skills and some tips from Lucy and Lisa I helped her squeeze out an extra column here and there,” Laura explained, ending with pleasurable moan as Neyra combed the side of her head, her warm fingers stroking her small delicate ears.

“Good, I am glad you got off to a good start,” Neyra said.

“Hmmmm and how was your day?” Laura asked as she continued to melt.

“Oh, the usual, father was out for the ceremony as you know and I had some sessions with clients. I love seeing people's expressions when they see some of the ideas for their projects just turned into a sketch right there and then. But drawing someone's ideal house isn't the same as doing people,” Neyra explained, her hand settling on the side of Laura's neck and jawline.

“Well, you are sitting in there with them, right? Draw the client too, if you get a chance. I guess it's a big deal getting something like your dream house designed and built just for you. Make it an occasion for them,” Laura said casually without even thinking about it.

Neyra nodded approvingly as she considered the idea and a silent pause fell over the pair a moment before Laura spoke again.

“I guess we have to get ready for this event then,” Laura said with resignation, one eye opening.

“You don't have to come, I am sure there are plenty of people who will make good company for the evening. Dashing eligible bachelors, pillars of the community, all looking to sweep me off my feet,” joked Neyra.

Laura knew Neyra was joking up to a point, but there was a big element of truth. The benefit event while not of New York standards was still a big event for the small city and all the well to do would be there. Laura was going to have to fight to keep their hands off of her partner, discreet as their relationship was.

“Oh well in that case I better go too, I might be able to trade up!” Laura said before erupting into giggles as a barrage of tickling fingers began to assault her.

= = = = = = = = = =

Flynn and Cruz stood at the doorway to a house, the door to which reluctantly opened.

“Shit,” said the man inside, nonchalantly.

“Donny!” beamed Flynn with a hint of menace.

“Jeezus Flynn I told you never to come here,” groaned the man named Donny. In his thirties his stubble and lined face hinted at his lifestyle as a partygoing drug user.

“Yeah, but that was before you owed me money, and a whole tonne of money at that. Donny, this is Cruz, Cruz, this leech is Donny. Don't ever give him money,” said Flynn said sarcastically as he moved forcefully into the house.

“Come in,” Donny groaned as Flynn pushed past him. Cruz and Donny exchanged glances and then Donny stood aside letting Cruz in too.

“What the fuck do you want, Flynn?” Donny began as Flynn admired the inside of Donny's house.

“My boy Cruz here, he needs something a little more respectable to wear and the keys to your car. You're going to have to report it stolen later, understand?” Flynn said calmly.

“Jeezus, want my right arm as well?” Donny protested.

“What fun would it be breaking it if it's not attached?” Flynn sneered.

“Fuck I keep telling you I will have the money for you soon, it's tied up. Once it's ..” Donny went on.

“Liquid, yeah, I hear you but you are overdue already. By rights you should be eating through a straw. So no, consider this a stay of execution,” Flynn added.

“Whatever. What clothes do you want?” Donny said in resignation to his situation.

“Imagine what you would want your driver to wear when he shows up driving a car just like yours,” Flynn said.

“Fine, let me look,” Donny said, spinning around to head to his bedroom and his wardrobe.

“And you,” began Flynn looking at Cruz, “hit the shower, you smell like a fucking saw mill!”

= = = = = = = = = = =

Laura was in the large shower cubicle, the shower head above her raining hot water down upon her leaving her in a fog. Laura's body glistened as she began to get wet, a sponge working over her body, starting to deliver its soapy payload.

Suddenly behind her there was a cool sensation as the doors parted and Neyra stepped in behind her, the tall dark beauty's hands resting on Laura's waist. With a shy smile Laura cocked her head as Neyras lips settled on the base of the red-head's neck planting a kiss.

“Hey, I am trying to get clean here, you know whaooohhhh...” Laura's protest began to melt as the kisses ran across the line of her freckle dappled shoulders and Neyra's hands rose up from Laura's waist, over the subtle ridges of her ribs before grasping her breasts.

Laura weakened, falling back into Neyra's enveloping arms, the kisses now landing on her freckled cheek as Neyra relieved her of her sponge and got to work. Within the bank of fog it was hard to see how the entwined pair explored each others bodies save for the clues given by pleasurable moans as suddenly a playful giggle and a gasp punctuated the moment when ….

THUD!!

A pair of webs fired against the strong tempered cubicle glass as Laura misfired in a moment of excitement, Neyra's tongue having touched one particularly special spot.

“Oh oh oh …..” Laura's voice moaned from the mist as the dark form of Neyra could be seen stooping down between her splayed thighs.

“Hmmmm, the others told me you have to work on that!” giggled Neyra as fingers probed and Laura found herself retracting her silken lines till they held her outstretched arms taught towards the walls of the cubicle.

“Oh god....” Laura squealed to Neyra's delight as the fog thickened.

Using the web lines to support herself Laura ended up with her thighs resting over Neyra's shoulders and crossed behind her back as the dark skinned lover burrowed her tongue into Laura's flesh.

= = = = = = = = = = = = = =

Cruz stood in front of the sink wrapped in a towel around his torso his hair gelled back. Cruz had a disposable razor in his hand, carving out a channel in the silky smooth shaving gel on his face with the blade. Showered and clean his muscular frame was there for Flynn to see while he stood behind him at the bathroom doorway, pressed dark trousers, and jacket draped over one arm, white shirt on a hangar in his free hand.

“Here, put these on pretty boy, you want to look good for your date,” Flynn said as he draped everything on the nearby bed.

“All I know is her first name,” complained Cruz as he towelled away the excess gel on his now shaven face.

“And that's all you need to know. You'll get to know her better while you have her locked up,” Flynn said with a grin.

“What's with the threads anyway?” Cruz said, nodding with his head at the reflection of the clothing in the mirror.

“The place you are going is class, and you need to look like a good knight in shining armour,” Flynn replied, as he turned away, satisfied with Cruz's progress.

“OK, so, she's rich?” Cruz fished.

“It's not about the money. Just do your job and keep an eye on the prize. Now get dressed,” Flynn said as he walked away.

Cruz stared at himself in the mirror, psyching himself up for the night to come. “Let's do this,” he thought.

= = = = = = = = = = =

The Andromeda Hotel, the premier hotel of the city was lit up with splendour for the benefit event. Set in a function room up on the uppermost floors it was one of the biggest annual events for the small city. One by one limousines arrived to deliver their occupants to the front drop off area who then made their way along a specially cordoned off passageway to the elevators. Security men in black suits checked for invites then ushered the important guests into the elevators taking them up to the function rooms. Slowly the numbers grew and the sound of voices increased as in little clusters more and more guests arrived to be greeted by trays with entrées and glasses of wine.

The Mayor looked about the room impressed at the turnout they had managed. If he could get the people there to contribute to the city council's ideas then that could be a big step forward for some of the poorer areas of the city. He knew though with the economic downturn it would need some convincing salesmanship to get the chequebooks to open.

On the ground floor Neyra and Laura walked along the cordoned off route towards the elevators. Neyra walked on high heels in her white figure hugging dress and alongside her Laura was in her Chinese green silk dress and low heels. Laura barely wore anything with a heel and after an embarrassing test of trying on heels Neyra had relented in asking her to try. After checking their invitations the security men let the pair pass by into the elevator to be sent on their way up.

“Ready?” Neyra grinned as the doors closed. Neyra as Carl's daughter was the main invitee and Laura her 'plus one' and while the pair were not set on flaunting their fledgling relationship and its unconventional orientation it was possible people would be able to tell.

“I was more ready for my first trip out as you-know-who,” Laura said coyly.

“It'll be ok,” Neyra smiled. She spoke from experience, her previous relationship hadn't seemed to create too much discomfort for others although that was among a different social circle.

“I know,” Laura said as she pulled herself closer to Neyra on her arm.

Beneath the dress Neyra knew Laura was wearing the tight black satin thong she had chosen for her and the warmth she felt on her arm confirmed what she knew about the cupless bra that pushed the pert breasts of her leaner companion against the inside of the form hugging green dress.

The elevator doors opened with the chime of a bell and the two young women noted the sign on a tripod pointing them towards the function room.

“Shall we?” grinned Neyra, offering her hand to Laura.

“OK, let's go,” Laura replied with a gulp.

From the end of the short corridor the two women heard the hubbub grow louder and louder, the chattering voices, the clinking of glasses and the occasional giggle, cough and bought of laughter.
The young couple steeled themselves and passed into the function room and...

“Ah, there they are,” beamed Carl, Neyra's father, a glass in one hand while biting off a piece of cheese from a cocktail stick. He was stood in among a small cluster of men and women who turned to look at the newcomers.

Laura was relieved to instantly see Carl's familiar face. In a tuxedo he certainly was a lot more formal than Laura recalled ever seeing him but then it seemed all the men were dressed in their best.

“Father,” smiled Neyra in reply.

“Sir,” blushed Laura, clinging to Neyra's arm.


“Well, you both look wonderful,” Carl said proudly, “sorry, I should introduce you,” he continued as he looked to the people stood by him.

Gradually Carl named the people with him, a lawyer named Sarah with her husband, a lumber yard owner and his wife, a restaurateur called Richard and his boyfriend and so on. With polite shakes of hands Laura started to relax, and suddenly united with a glass of orange juice in her hand felt less awkward. Polite conversation ensued but Laura was content to let Neyra field questions from Carl's friends.

Across the function room Laura sensed familiar eyes settling on her and she glanced through the forest of people and saw Erin. In a classic 'little black dress' she looked classy yet understated, only her press lanyard disrupted her carefully crafted look. Now it was Laura who was the focus of her attention, the confusion evident on Erin's face. Laura could only imagine the conversation Erin was having with the lady she was speaking with but it seemed that Laura's arrival had instantly terminated their interview.


“Oh so you are working for The Bugle,” the lady lawyer, Sarah asked, prompted by something Neyra had said while Laura had been distracted by Erin's glance.

Laura felt the collective eyes of the small gathering fall upon her but a friendly embrace of her arm from Neyra gave her courage.

“Oh...yes as a photographer, I just started today. It's just a part time job for now while I am between things at university,” Laura explained as she eyed Erin approaching.

“Oh very good, and how was your first day?” Sarah continued with interest.

“Good, I think …. but... you can ask my boss,” Laura said with a gesture with her head as Erin closed in.

“Boss?” Sarah frowned as she glanced to one side then realised who Laura meant.

Erin approached the small gathering with a smile that barely disguised her confusion.

“Ah, Erin,” Sarah began, “Laura was just telling us about her new job with you over at The Bugle,” the lawyer said chased by a sip of wine from her glass.

“Hi, good evening everyone, yes it was a good first day, but I wasn't expecting to see you here, Laura,” began Erin with a light laugh.

“It has been a long day for you, hasn't it? You were at the ground breaking ceremony too,” Carl observed as he smiled back at Erin.

“Ah, I thought I had seen you before,” the restaurateur Richard quipped, his boyfriend's hand resting on his shoulder.

“News never sleeps, so my editor tells me, so he doesn't let me sleep either,” joked Erin eliciting laughter from the small group.

There was a collective pause as people sipped a drink before Erin decided to take the opportunity to probe at Laura again.

“So, Laura, you didn't tell me you would be here” Erin said, her tone slightly cutting.

“I did try to say but you had to go to speak to Mr Barnes,” Laura said politely in reply.

“Ah, I see, but how did you make the invite list?” Erin asked. It was dressed as a friendly question but she really wanted to know how the naïve looking student she had seen from her workplace conference room that morning was now rubbing shoulders with the city's elite.

“Oh she's a friend of the family,” began Carl in an attempt to cover for his daughter and her partner.

“Oh of course, I should have realised,” Erin began as she suddenly noticed who made up the group.

“It's ok,” Laura said, hoping Erin wouldn't make a fuss.

“So you are Miss Thornton, right?” Erin asked looking at Nerya.

“Yes, please, call me Neyra,” the tall black beauty said with her warm voice, her hand offered out.

Erin shook hands with Neyra while her mind tried to process what was going on.

“I gather then that you both have stayed friends ever since your release? That's great!” Erin said, her enthusiasm sugar coating the reporter's inclination to pry open more avenues to explore.

“REL-” Laura began to protest. 'Release' made it sound like a spell in prison, not the horror it actually was. The fact her escape had culminated in a fight to the death, a death she now had to keep secret, only made Erin's cheap shot hurt even more. Laura's mind raced to the moral high ground, ready to give Erin a piece of her mind – 'release' indeed!!

“Erin, play nice,” Sarah the lawyer cut in, stopping Laura's retort in its tracks. She knew full well what had just happened being a mistress of such crafts in the courtroom.

“I'm sorry, I only meant that it's nice you both have remained friends,” Erin said, her tone underlining her hasty retreat. Everyone could read it for what it appeared to be, Erin had been caught trying to raid the cookie jar of stories.

Laura and Neyra cast each other glances wondering if they should feed the shark a little consolation morsel of information but their unspoken and unseen conversation of the eyes decided not to. There was a slightly awkward silent pause but Neyra's wise eyes looked to the restaurateur.

“Richard, father told me you had been considering a plan to help the homeless?” Neyra said, hoping to promote conversation on a different topic.

“Oh that, well, it's just an idea, nothing concrete yet but ...” Richard replied before sipping his drink.

“Oh?” Erin asked. She wanted to look enthusiastic about any story especially after just having to beat a hasty retreat from the one stood right in front of her, the abducted women.

Carl silently admired his daughter's skill at calming the moment, just as her mother would had done if she were there. Richard's words flowed as Erin engaged with him while Neyra looked discreetly about the room hoping to see more familiar faces.

“Oh, excuse us, there is someone I want to introduce Laura to,” Neyra said politely, interrupting Erin and Richard's flow a moment.

“Sure, I will catch up with you again, no doubt,” Erin said her eyes glancing between the two young women.

“Yes, of course,” nodded Neyra before looking to her father, “Father,” she said politely.

“Yes, we shall see you during the meal,” Carl responded, gesturing to the young couple to go.

Erin glanced between the gathering and realised she had been misdirected, now having to listen to the restaurateur's ideas while Neyra and Laura made their escape but she knew she would catch up with them again. As Neyra led Laura away Laura mouthed 'thank you' to her partner prompting Neyra to smile in reply.

= = = = = = = = = =


Ashley Hill listened to her police scanner radio and scrawled notes on her whiteboard as she heard what her colleagues who were on duty were up to. Somewhere buried in all the communications she was sure something was happening, and it was happening tonight. Having listened to the murmured conversations she had captured from the locker room she had heard smatterings of something she didn't like.

There were guys in blue out on the streets that night who were going to be avoiding certain places at certain times like they were being asked to make a corridor for something or someone. By mapping out where officers were reporting in the areas devoid of the men in blue was becoming more and more apparent.

“What's there?” Ashley wondered as she began to see in her mind what she dubbed 'the pocket', the place no officers seemed to want to go.

Opening up google maps on her laptop Ashley zoomed in onto Littleton and the zone that seemed to be being prepared for whatever was about to happen. Nothing seemed obvious from her virtual eye in the sky so dropping to 'street view' Ashley began to navigate the streets manually, click by click, looking for what might be the reason for whatever was happening.

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

In a side street Cruz stood next to Donny's dark grey BMW waiting for word on when and where he would be needed. Stood in smart pants, shirt and jacket, black shoes shining, this was the smartest Cruz had looked in a long time, even his mother would not have recognised him. Flynn had given him something like a hotel room key-card. Thicker than a credit card it was blank save for a magnetic strip on one side. There was the remnants of a logo that had been printed on one corner but it seemed with age or use it had slowly been rubbed off, leaving only a few hints as to what had been there.

Cruz patted his pockets to reassure himself he had everything to hand. Wallet, cell phone, car keys, handcuffs ….

VWRRR VWRRR VWRRR

A message had arrived on Cruz's phone and he pulled the device from his pocket to read.

“Everything is in place, relax for now,” said the message causing the man to sigh.

= = = = = = = = = = = = = =


Laura and Neyra were sat close by to one another at the circular table as they listened to a speech being made by one of the members of the city council from the high table. Nearby the mayor looked on approvingly as did the chief of police, Westerman and his deputy William Kohl. From time to time the room would erupt in a flash of pale white-ish-blue light as the official event photographer captured the evening's proceedings.

“...and so... hopefully from that tale you will realise that it is not always just money that can help,” the councilman said, to some laughter. “And now I can see Marion, the events manager from The Andromeda Hotel looking anxiously at me so that can only mean one thing, the chef would like to see us get our meals! So without further ado, let us eat,” he concluded.

From the wings of the function room a lady in a suit gave a nod and the room erupted into chatter as serving staff entered carrying plates of food to the tables.


“Neyra, do you know Mr Lovell” began the lady sat next to Neyra who indicated to the man seated on the other side of her.

“Oh, THE Mr Lovell, I thought it might be him,” Neyra smiled as she glanced at Lovell, an astute looking man in glasses, probably in his sixties.

Lovell was the owner of the city's much loved 'Lions' baseball team and while not exactly in the major league they proudly had developed players who now shone in the major leagues and often had on their roster a player or two who had once been big names, winding down their careers playing at a slightly lower level.

“Yes, he was talking about an idea to help raise some money you may be interested in helping out with,” the lady continued.

“Oh?” Neyra replied, eyebrow rising.

“Well, he was hoping you would do some caricature pictures of the team. He's sure if they were auctioned they would raise a good price for some of tonight's projects. Your signature on there probably would add a lot too, after, well, you know, the incident,” the lady's voice grew hesitant as she touched on the subject of the abduction.

“Hmmm, that sounds interesting,” Neyra nodded as a plate was carefully set down in front of her by one of the hotel staff causing her eyes to widen at the beautifully presented starter.

“Oh, that looks good!” was heard from various people.

Laura sat close by had been talking to Richard the restaurateur who had been placed next to her. Laura felt socially out of her depth at first but her neighbour seemed down to earth and found her conversation interesting.

“Wow,” enthused Laura as she saw the starters arrive.

“Yes, he can be quite imaginative the chef here,” Richard said with admiration.

“Oh you know him,” Laura asked, her eyes like saucers as she looked down at her plate.

“We often see each other, we go to the same markets to source our meat and fish,” Richard explained, a mouthed 'thank you' completing his sentence as he looked up at one of the staff who set his plate down.

“So, you're not rivals then?” Laura asked innocently.

“Oh, no. Sure we like to make the best dishes of course but at the end of the day people usually eat at The Andromeda because they are prisoners of the deal they chose when they came to stay here. People eat at my restaurant because the want to! We are catering to different people and for different reasons and there are always plenty of mouths to feed!” Richard joked.

“Hmmm!” Laura nodded approvingly at his answer and noting that everyone at the table had food began to eat.

Up on the high table William Kohl listened to the chief commissioner Westerman talking to one of the councillors about his hopes for the new civic centre once it was built while his eyes looked out across the sea of tables. Neyra Thornton, prized daughter of the man he needed to blackmail seemed to be making small talk now with Mr Lovell, the baseball team owner.

“I hope you don't cause us any trouble, Carl,” thought Kohl before casting a glance at Neyra's 'plus one', the young red headed woman in the green Chinese style dress. “Nor you!” he added just as she suddenly looked in his direction.

Laura frowned a moment, her eyes scanning along the high table at the men in their finery and the ladies in their beautiful dresses before resuming her meal unsure who had triggered her senses or why. The conversations continued and the starters were soon gone only to be replaced by the main plate then desert before the mood was transformed by the subtle change in lighting and the introduction of some music.

People gathered into clusters to talk while the mayor and the councillors mingled, eager to see what support they could drum up from those with generous chequebooks while the younger ones made their way to the open spaces of the dance floor.

Neyra and Laura happily danced close to one another though occasionally were diverted by friendly hopefuls not realising that the two young women were together. Neither minded so much in the friendly atmosphere though a young man or two were left disappointed in the wings as Neyra's father found himself dragged onto the floor by a now fully at ease Laura, some of the more formal aspect of the evening finally over.

Eventually the pair of women took a break from the dance floor and picked up their glasses from their table, sipping some more liquids to break their thirst from their exertions.

“Hmmm, I need the bathroom to freshen up,” Neyra said over the music.

“Oh, sure, you okay?” Laura asked.

“Sure, I think I just need to take a break. Hold this, I'll be back soon,” Neyra said, handing Laura her glass.

“Okay, don't be long,” joked Laura in reply.

Neyra winked and pecked a kiss on Laura's cheek then turned around, elegantly striding away in her heels.

Neyra pushed open the double doors leading into a plush corridor and noted the brass plated sign for the ladies room and entered. The cool air was scented with lavender and and the marble walls and ceiling were pristine. Along one wall opposite the stalls were the basins facing a long mirror and a couple of ladies were just touching up their make up before leaving. Neyra walked along the row and stopped turning to check herself in the mirror. From behind her one of the lavatories flushed and out strode Erin up to a basin to wash her hands. There was a polite silent acknowledgement between the two women as Erin worked in some soap before rinsing her hands off.

“I hope you are going easy on her,” Neyra said, her tone hopeful.

“Excuse me?” Erin replied, surprised Neyra had chosen to speak to her.

“Laura. Just, take it easy with her, she didn't ask for what happened to her down there,” Neyra began.

Erin stood upright and reached for a paper towel and slowly began to dry her hands as she looked at Neyra via the reflection in the mirror.

“To her? You mean what happened to each of you was different?” Erin probed.

Neyra realised she had touched a truth without realising it and quickly tried to recover. “No, I mean of course it was the same for all of us. But, you've met her, you know she's a little greener than some, just give her a break, well, all of us a break,”

Erin scoffed, “It's not like I have been pounding at your door. Besides, Laura and I have already made our peace so you've nothing to fear from me,” Erin said with annoyance.

“Have you? I saw what you tried to do,” Neyra said, recalling how Erin had tried to touch a nerve with Laura and get her to talk at the start of the evening.

“Look, it was just habit, alright? I'm sorry. Christ it's hard enough having friends worry if you are gong to print everything they say let alone work colleagues too.” Erin replied, she seemed more upset than angry.

Neyra could see Erin might actually mean what she had said and softened a moment.

“Hey, if and when it all gets sorted out I will talk to you myself, ok? Scoop from the woman who drew Hockey Girl? Just, stop prodding Laura. If she talks to want err, wants to tal..oh...” Neyra finished saying with a frown, her weight resting forward onto her palms at the edge of the basin.

“Hey, are you okay?” Erin asked, cocking her head realising something was amiss.

“Oh, oh no. My father, or Laura. Can you …?” Neyra began to say with a struggle.

“Fetch them? Yes? Are you unwell? Do we need to get you some medication or anything?” Erin checked as she stepped forward, her hand resting on Neyra's back.

“Drink … spiked?” Neyra said as she saw her reflection turn blurry.

“Spiked?!” Erin exclaimed.

Neyra rocked unsteadily on her feet as she gave an exaggerated nod. Looking into the mirror she saw not herself but a memory of Laura.

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

SOME MONTHS BEFORE

Lucy Wuan watched Laura drink some water before returning to the mat. Lucy was wearing sparring pads as was Laura and the pair faced off at one another again ready to train.

“OK, torso,” Lucy said only to have Laura unleash a sweeping kick at her ribs before Lucy blocked it.

“More from the hips, now again,” Lucy said before grunting as the kick disturbed her balance having tested her defence.

“Better, now head,” Lucy said, her forearm guarding the side of her head as the padded ankle of Laura's right leg swung in at her.

“Good, and again!” Lucy ordered.

Blow after blow Laura executed her strikes as Lucy called for them.

“Ok, your turn to be the punchbag,” Lucy said as she changed stance ready for the attack.

Laura sensed her tutor's seriousness but nodded and prepared to do her blocking work.

“Ready?” Lucy asked. She looked focused as she prepared to strike.

“Yes sensei,” Laura replied with a nod.

Laura's instincts would tell her where the attacks would come from and now with the benefit of Lucy's training she had the knowledge in how to protect herself. It was a wonderful fusion of instinct and newly learned skill and Lucy was going to enjoy letting herself loose on her student.

Lucy's kicking attacks were paced and powerful. Torso, torso, head, head, shin, shin, head, head, torso, torso. Each blow was matched by Laura's instinctive defence and Lucy's shin bones began to ache as kick after relentless kick was stopped by what felt like iron bars.

Lucy frowned as Laura seemed to pause in her stance as she glanced at the doorway into their training space. Then the door opened and in walked...

“Oh Lisa? Neyra? Hey...” Laura said with a frown as her posture changed to something more passive.

Neyra looked a little guilty as she gave a reluctant wave and Lisa looked across at Lucy like she was a little uncomfortable at being there. Lucy now understood why Laura's concentration was broken but of them both only Lucy knew why the others must be there.

“Errr, guys, what's going on?” Laura asked as she looked between the other women.

“Hey, focus, don't look at them, look at me,” Lucy said, clapping her padded hands together, pulling Laura's attention back onto her.

“What have ..” Laura began, her eyes widening as she began to sense something was wrong.

WHUMP! Lucy's kick into Laura's flank was poorly blocked causing the student to regain her focus with a tossing of her head in frustration.

“Wake up! Let's go!” Lucy said with a serious tone causing Laura to snap to attention.

Lucy began again, her kicks following the same patient cadence, testing Laura's reactions and her skill to take the sting from the Asian woman's blows.

“Good,” Lucy said as Laura kept up her work.

Laura's eyes settled on Lisa and Neyra who watched from the side of the room at the edge of the mat. Something was off but Laura couldn't figure out what and her mentor seemed intent on keeping the student's attention firmly on her.

“OK, ready for some free form?” Lucy asked as she bashed her padded hands together.

“Oh, with them here?” Laura replied hesitantly. Free form meant straightforward fighting, no call outs, not attack versus defence, just her skills versus Lucy's.

“Sure, what you worried about?” Lucy quipped as she took a fighting stance.

“I don't want to hurt you and Lisa has a gun” Laura said with her nervous humour.

“She knows I am a big girl, I can take it, so let's go!” Lucy said with determination.

The fight began, Laura starting with some simple punches that were blocked comfortably by her mentor.

“OK – so probing – sensible start – but you know me better – so raise your game” Lucy said, still coaching her student between breaths.

Unleashing some kick and punch combinations Laura began to raise the sophistication of her attack yet failing to land a good blow. Cautiously the student created a gap to consider her next move. So far Lucy had not attacked, letting Laura do the hard work. Perhaps Lucy was concerned about her attack being predictable, Laura's senses alerting her to everything. Laura decided to up the complexity of her efforts and closed in for the strike.

WHAP-WHAP-WHAM-WHAP

A flurry of fists and blocks ensued, Lucy blocking the attack before letting loose a kick of her own which while blocked sent Laura back flipping to land safely ready to attack again.

“Better!” Lucy said as she saw Laura closing.

WHAP-WHAP-WHAM-WHAM

“Oooooh” wheezed Laura as she inexplicably found herself on her back. After closing the gap and committing a few punches Lucy had ducked a couple then as Laura sought to strike had been taken to the ground by Lucy's sweeping leg.

“How did youuuuuu ooooh … I think I've …...oh gosh.....” Laura said, sounding groggy as her head flopped back onto the mat. Her mind was wondering how she had not sensed Lucy's counter when it had never been a problem before.

“Hey, you ok down there?” Lucy said as she stooped down by Laura's side.

“I don't feel so good,” Laura managed to say, her eyes losing focus.

Lucy looked compassionately down at her stricken student, a sympathetic half smile appearing on her face as she beckoned Lisa and Neyra to come over to her.

“Is it happening?” Neyra asked, her tone more in interest than with concern.

“Laura, can you hear us?” Lucy asked as she brushed a rogue hair from Laura's face.

“Oh what's, what's happening?” Laura said weakly as she started to feel disconnected from her body.

“Laura, it's important you remember these feelings you had building up to this moment, it's just a test. We spiked your water, you're going to be ok, you're safe,” Lisa said as she looked down at Laura who was slowly fading.

“Oh poor baby,” Neyra said, biting her bottom lip, “poor girl hates the idea of not being in control. The idea of even experimenting with even the lightest of drugs terrifies her,” she said looking at her co-conspirators.

“So tired,” Laura managed as she fought the imminent sleep that was coming.

“She IS a bit squeaky clean,” Lucy said as she began to gently tug off Laura's pads.

The trio had all probably meddled with recreational drugs at some point in their younger lives, even Lisa though she wouldn't admit it, but daddy's girl Laura? Fearing not being in control or addiction the young woman had even been in fear of trying a cigarette.

“Why didn't she know her water was drugged? Normally her senses would warn her, wouldn't they?” Lisa asked with concern now that Laura was drifting off to sleep.

“Drugged...why...” mumbled Laura, her eyes flashing wide open a moment, desperate to hold on.

“For the last few sessions Neyra prepared three bottles of water for me, one with the drug, two with placebos. I didn't know which was which,” Lucy began.

“Lucy would pick one bottle to give Laura not knowing if it was drugged or not. After a few nights of taking a placebo bottle tonight Lucy finally chose the one with the drug. I guess Lucy not knowing that helped keep Laura off guard,” Neyra continued.

“Do you think she will remember how it felt? I mean, we could have just asked her to take it,” Lisa asked, glancing at Lucy who's idea it had been.

“She would have been too nervous, best to surprise her with it and let her experience it naturally. If she is going to get involved in my world she needs to get to recognise the signs. Then again, every woman these days could do with being able to experience this safely so they then know what to expect,” Lucy said.

Neyra looked down at Laura as she battled, mumbling incoherently as she slowly faded, watching her soul seemingly retreat from the windows that were her eyes.

= = = = = = = = = = = = =

Neyra's eyes battled to stay focused on herself in the mirror. She certainly hadn't understood the signs of what was happening to her before but she surely recognised them now because she had seen them in Laura once before.


= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

Erin hurriedly returned to the function room and looked for Laura near the dance floor where she had last seen her. The distinctive green Chinese style dress, so apart from the conventional should have been easy to spot and yet....

“Where are you!” Erin said to herself in frustration.

Heading over to the dinner table where she had seen Laura and Neyra eating Erin saw more of the guests who had re-taken their places, talking among themselves.

“Hi, have you seen the lady that was wearing the Chinese style dress, the green one?” Erin asked over the sound of the music.

There were dismissive shakes of the heads by the majority though one lady pointed back at the dance floor where Erin had just been.

“OK, thank you,” Erin said in disappointment.

Perhaps Neyra's father could be found instead. Walking between clusters of people Erin searched and searched, her eyes deceived often by the low lights and the many men wearing tuxedos. Erin grew gradually more and more anxious as she searched but could not find Carl Thornton or Laura. Now Erin was getting suspicious, Neyra's drink was spiked and now the two people closest to her at the event were missing.

“I've got to get back to her,” Erin said anxiously to herself turning around to return to Neyra.

Walking urgently back through the function room between the little islands of chatting people Erin made it to the corridor just in time to see Neyra step awkwardly into an elevator. Erin was coming to the elevator from the side, not straight on so she couldn't be certain if Neyra had entered alone or was with someone.

“Miss Thornton! Wait!” Erin pleaded only to make out the doors closing behind the dazed woman.

Frustrated, Erin stopped in her tracks and pulled off her heels then trotted quickly to the elevator in a desperate bid to somehow stop it. Stabbing the call button Erin was frustrated to see the elevator continue its progress descending downwards.

PING! Chimed the bell of the neighbouring elevator which opened alongside her.

“Shit, shit, shit,” Erin said as she entered, stabbing the button for the ground floor.

= = = = =

Stood inside a small area marked Employees Only that separated the function room from a service lift that was used to bring up meals from the kitchens below Laura and Carl listened intently to deputy chief William Kohl who, for some reason had taken them aside to talk about progress on the abduction case.

“So, there are still some leads the FBI are working on, trying to link the owners of the experimental prison and your abductors but it is slow,” Kohl explained.

“Have they not learned anything about the albino man at all? I would have thought that someone that distinctive would be known. If he was scientist or a doctor someone would remember him, surely?” Laura asked.

“I am sorry, when I last spoke to the FBI about their progress they didn't mention any more about him. They are watching out for him for sure but other than that I don't know,” Kohl added, glancing at his watch a moment.

“Well, thank you for your time, I will pass on your news to my daughter,” Carl said.

Laura went to sip from her glass but found it was empty and with a shrug looked at Neyra's and decided to take a sip. Neyra wouldn't mind, she thought. Raising the glass to her mouth Laura began to tip the contents towards her lips, the clear liquid racing down the tall narrow glass.

Suddenly in Laura's mind she sensed herself being overwhelmed by a drugged state, her weakened body being bundled into a waiting car.

“Oh.... I....” Laura said, stopping herself in her tracks, the drink sloshing back into the glass.

“What is it?” Kohl said, eyes wide with apprehension.

Laura realised what she had done by demonstrating her ability to her audience and quickly had to cover for herself.

“Neyra's drink, it smells of aniseed and I can't stand the stuff,” Laura lied as she looked at the glass in feigned disgust.

“Oh! Come on then, let's get you back to the party. Where IS that daughter of mine anyway?” chuckled Carl.

Kohl with narrowing eyes watched as Laura and Carl exited ahead of him, Carl politely holding the door for him as they returned to the party. Had he managed to keep Neyra's father and friend away for long enough?

As Laura and Carl returned to the function room the red head poured Neyra's drink angrily into a potted plant flanking the doorway before placing the two spent glasses in her hand onto a table. Storming back towards the dance floor Laura navigated between the islands of chatting people, her heart racing. Someone had spiked Neyra's drink, she knew it, and she wanted to get her back safe.

As Laura passed by a table an arm reached from a table to her. Sensing it was going to happen she snatched her arm away before the stranger's hand could grab her by the wri... ohh wait. Laura stopped, sensing the stranger had something important to tell her.

“Sorry, I didn't meant to startle you. The reporter, , she was looking for someone in that style dress you are wearing, it seemed important,” the stranger said over the music.

“Erin? Where did she go? Do you know?” Laura asked, leaning in closer.

“I think she headed back that way,” the stranger replied gesturing towards the corridor leading to the lavatories and the elevators beyond.

“Thank you,” Laura said as she resumed her quick paced walk, her mind reeling. Thoughts of the enthusiastic reporter getting in to Neyra's head while in a drugged stupor made her feel sick to the stomach.

= = = = = = = = = = = =

Erin heard the bell chime and the elevator came to a halt in the lobby of the hotel. Glancing around she noted the staff had removed the cordoned off passageway that they had used to funnel guests for the event to the venue.

Her eyes narrowed on the sofas that made up the public spaces and then the small bar that was partitioned off to one side. Neyra was nowhere to be seen and so with an urgency in her step, her high heels still in her hands she strode to the reception desk, a young man processing something on the computer.

“Ahem,” Erin began, trying to get the receptionist's attention.

“Yes, Miss?” he replied politely peering over the top of his monitor screen.

“Hi, I'm attending the benefit event. I am little concerned about one of the attendee's. Have you seen a tall lady, white silk dress, she's African-American?”

“No, I am sorry, I don't think anyone of that description has come through here. If you like I can make an announcement?” the young man offered.

“Yes, please, her name is Miss Thornton – T – H – O – R – N – T – O – N” Erin explained.

“And you are?” asked the receptionist.

“Errr, Laura, Laura Granger,” lied Erin. She knew if Neyra was going to respond to anything it would be to Laura before herself and right now she wanted Neyra to be safe.

“Laura Granger, of course, one moment,” the receptionist said as he scribbled the names onto a piece of paper before picking up the handset of the phone at the desk and dialling.

“BING BONG – Would a Miss Thornton please pick up a white courtesy phone in one of the public areas. Miss Granger in reception is attempting to contact you,”

As the man spoke his voice was carried quietly throughout the hotel's public spaces, falling onto the ears of Laura as she checked the stalls of the bathroom where she hoped Neyra had taken refuge.

“What the!” Laura exclaimed. Someone was impersonating her and luring Neyra to reception!Something was very very wrong!

In the reception area Erin spun around from the desk and weighed her options.

“I am just going to check outside,” Erin said, worried that Neyra was going to get hurt.

“Ok. If Miss Thornton picks up a white phone it will ring through to here. If she does what should I tell her?” asked the staff member.

“Ask where she is and tell her to stay there, I will come to her,” Erin replied anxiously before turning to go through the large entranceway.

Passing through the automatic doors Erin was now stood at the edge of the loop of road that permitted cars to quickly pick up and drop off visitors at the hotel.

“NEYRA!” shouted Erin as she spun around frantically. She now felt guilty for having abandoned the vulnerable woman in the restroom and wished she had stayed with her.

Just then, emerging from the mouth of the underground car park the dark BMW appeared, lights on. Turning onto the loop the car drove by Erin, the reporter catching a mere glimpse of the driver before noting Neyra on the back seat in her white dress.

“Shit – STOP ! WAIT !” Erin exclaimed as she saw the car reach the exit of the loop, pausing to wait for a space in the light traffic.

Erin, still barefoot with her heels in hands took off in pursuit of the car.

“WAIT !!” Erin shrieked before unleashing a high heel at the back of the BMW.

CLUNK!! The shoe made firm contact with the glass before settling on the lid of the trunk. Erin half expected the driver to get out and come at her for having done what she did but instead the driver took flight, a squeal of rubber betraying his urgency in getting away.

As a natural instinct Erin's eyes settled on the registration plate of the car only to realise it was covered over then unleashed her other heel striking the rear bumper of the car before both heels tumbled to the tarmac together.

“MOTHERFUCKER!!” screamed Erin.

Looking longingly at her heels she then dismissed them then trotted back to the hotel reception only to see Laura waiting for her. Her face was a mix of anger and anguish as she saw Erin return barefoot.

“Umm, Miss , I don't quite understand what is going on, I thought that …..” the confused receptionist began, seeing two Miss Grangers in front of him.

“Erin, where is Neyra!” Laura demanded. Her voice was angry but Erin could tell it was driven by concern.

“The police! Call the police, I think Miss Thornton has been abducted!” Erin said, slightly out of breath.

= = = = = = = = = = = = =


Ashley Hill sat astride her bike, helmet off, vigilantly watching the hotel. Having searched and searched online she had realised that perhaps whatever was going to happen that night would have something to do with the event being held at the Andromeda Hotel.

Then, it happened, some woman in a black dress screaming a name from the top of her lungs before taking chase of a car on foot. Whoever was driving seemed to want to make their escape because they had flatly ignored the woman's attempts to get their attention.

“This must be it!”

PHUPHUPHUVROOOOOOOOM!

The electric starter kicked the bike into life and performing a u-turn on the broad street Ashley took chase of the BMW as it began to head away.

VRRRRRR, VRUM, VRRRRRRRRRRRRR

Weaving with dexterity through the light night time traffic Ashley closed on the BMW. With good fortune the target vehicle wanted to take a left and dropped into a filter lane behind a green Ford and ahead of a blue Toyota, the trio coming to a halt at a red light. Edging forwards, motor purring, Ashley pulled alongside the cars coming to rest by the BMW. With a subtle sideways glance from behind her tinted helmet visor Ashley spied Neyra. Seemingly confused or dazed with her handcuffed wrists resting on her lap she certainly seemed in some kind of danger.

“It's a kidnapping!” Ashley gasped.

Without hesitation Ashley dismounted her bike and from inside her boot produced a telescopic baton which she extended with a deft flick of the wrist. A glance in his mirrors revealed the danger to Cruz.

CRUNCH!!

Suddenly the window of the rear passenger door frosted over from the first blow of the baton then crumbled with the second and third as the probing weapon swept the door frame clean of glass chunks.

“Jeezus,” Cruz growled as he yanked off his seat belt and stepped out of the car.

The car ahead took a chance and lept forward, drifting slightly right into the lane to go ahead and escaped the scene developing behind them. The car behind the BMW, its driver paralyzed by the events playing out in front of them hesitantly reversed unsure whether to watch, help, or flee.

Reaching inside the car Ashley released the rear passenger door and swung it open then leant in grabbing Neyra by the forearm. The black beauty looked on in her drugged confused state at the motorcyclist who loomed in at her.

“Come on!” Ashley grunted as she pulled Neyra firmly, dragging her to the doorway of the car.

“Fuck off, bitch!” Cruz growled as he tried to deliver a punch into Ashley's lower back.

Spinning around Ashley found herself confronted by a muscular man, well dressed, hair gelled back.

THWACK!

With the baton Ashley struck across Cruz's leg, catching him on the side of the knee causing him to buckle towards the ground, his palms supporting his weight on the tarmac a moment. Ashley resumed her effort with Neyra, finally dragging her to the doorway of the car and sending her to the tarmac too. On all fours, wrists held by handcuffs the formerly pristine beauty now looked a mess, the lower part of her white dress dirtied by the dirt and debris of the road.

“CALL 911!!” Ashley urged to the shadowy outline of the driver of the car behind, their headlights in her eyes, despite her tinted visor.

“Fuck!!” Cruz grunted as he could tell things were escalating quickly out of his control. Retreating to his car and slamming the rear passenger door shut he stumbled into the drivers seat and set off ahead with a squeal of rubber.

“Hey you're going to be okay,” Ashley said, stooping down by the prone Neyra who lay on her side struggling to focus on anything and only able to barely mumble in reply.

The driver of the car behind by now had begun to interpret what they had seen play out in front of them. It seemed to be a rescue and of a gunuine damsel in distress. Stepping cautiously from his car, arms up in semi surrender he looked at the baton wielding woman in black bike leathers and helmet.

“I've called the cops!” he yelled hesitantly, cell phone in his hand.

Ashley looked at the civilian who appeared scared while trying to be brave. Ashley was a cop, she knew his type and she believed him when he said that he had called 911.

“Stay with her!” Shouted Ashley, her voice muffled by her helmet before she returned to her bike and hopped back on.

In the distance sirens wailed and the tell tale red and blue pulsing lights of police cars approached.

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =


In the lobby of The Andromeda Hotel two uniformed police officers walked purposefully towards the reception desk and could see a commotion brewing. There were women in fine dresses and men wearing tuxedos and all their voices were all raised.

“Hey, excuse me, someone called in about an abduction?” asked one of the officers.

“Yes, WE did,” police commissioner Westerman said as he spun around, his deputy William Kohl stood by his side.

“Commissioner? What's happened?” the officer continued realizing he had walked into some kind of social gathering.

“One of the attendee's, we think her drink was spiked. This lady thinks she saw her being taken in the back of a dark BMW, no license plates,” the chief Westerman explained, gesturing to Erin as he did so.

“Did you see anything particular about the car, or the driver perhaps?” the first officer asked as he turned to face Erin. She was still shocked having witnessed what she had first hand.

Erin looked phased by the question. The car apart from its colour and model seemed to have no real identifying features about it and as for the driver, she had barely seen him, being more focused on Neyra in the back.

As Erin began to explain what she had seen the second trailing officer listened to his radio, his neck craned as he put the small speaker of his shoulder mounted radio closer to his ear to hear the garbled chatter.

“Hey, excuse me, the missing person, was she wearing a white dress?” the officer suddenly asked.

“Oh god, have …. have you found her?” one voice asked.

“Is she okay?” asked another.

“Where is she?!” Carl demanded, stepping forward from the group.

“Another unit has her, she was found a mile or two from here, they say she is safe,” the officer said to the relief of the people in front of him.

“Oh thank god!” Carl said, quickly being patted on the back by one of city council men who was among the group.

Laura stood stunned in silence then rubbed Carl's arm with her hand to comfort him and he placed one of his large kind hands on her back, pulling her in close.


= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

[DrDominator9]

Lots going on here and very carefully built. Of course the Spydra stuff is great but you also get an excellent police/news reporting procedural for your "money" with this story. Interesting stuff, AEM. And the action scenes are nicely gripping. I look forward to where you take this.

[Abductorenmadrid]

Hi all - as I am away this week the next chapter is out today. Logically, the previous chapter was "Monday" and so here we are on the next day, "Tuesday". Please leave a comment if you are enjoying this story. As you may know they take much time and effort to write. This story from start to end took the best part of 5 months to write so please if you could spare 1 minute say something.

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

TUESDAY

Carl Thornton said his thanks to the staff at the nurses station and then walked up to the door of the private room which held his daughter. Quietly opening the door a fraction Carl popped his head through the narrow opening and looked inside. Sleeping peacefully on the hospital bed Neyra looked well as did Laura who, fast asleep had a blanket over herself reclined in a chair close by. Entering quietly Carl approached Laura and lightly touched her hand which caused her to flinch awake.

“Where … oh Carl … OH! Is Neyra awake..” began Laura as she shuffled upright in her seat. Her eyes blinked and sought to focus as she realised where she was.

“Shhhh, it's ok, I just spoke with the nurses, they said everything is ok,” Carl explained with a low voice.

“I remember them coming in a few times,” Laura said with a frown as she tried to recall events from the night before.

“It was only for observation, they took a blood sample to find out what she had been spiked with,” Carl went on, glancing over at Neyra who turned slightly in her sleep.

“Did they tell you what it was?” Laura asked quietly.

“A doctor will tell us everything when he or she does the rounds this morning,” Carl said, glancing back to his daughter.

“But she is going to be ok, right?” Laura pressed, her eyes looking hopeful.

“Yes, but she will have a sore head no doubt. Why don't you go home, and freshen up. Do your work colleagues know you have been here all night?” Carl asked, changing the subject.

“Oh! Work! I have to...” Laura suddenly stood upright out of her chair. She was still in her dress from the event and was looking a little unkempt. Glancing at her delicate small wrist watch she realised she was going to be late.

“Hey hey slow down. Erin, your colleague, she was there last night, right? I am sure she will understand,” Carl said with his warm reassuring tone.

“I need to make phone calls,” Laura said, evidently flustered by events.

“If you want I will take you back to your place and ...” Carl began to suggest.

“No, I ….. I will sort this out – you should be here when Neyra wakes up,” Laura said as she gathered herself together.

“OK, I will tell her you were here all night, she will understand you had to go. Now do you need anything?” Carl asked.

“No, I will be ok, and thank you. I will try and get out of work early. Won't you need to go too?” Laura asked, suddenly realising Carl had his own responsibilities to deal with.

“When you are your own boss you can take time off. The firm will survive without me, at least for one day,” Carl said with a weak smile.

“OK, I have to go, let me know when she wakes up,” Laura said.

Thoughtfully moving to Neyra's bedside Laura twirled a finger gently among Neyra's spiralled locks then gently pecked a kiss on her forehead “I am sorry I let you down,” she whispered before leaving.

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

Sargent Bishop was stood at his podium reading out the morning briefing to the next shift of officers who were about to start duty, deputy commissioner Kohl unusually stood quietly in one corner behind him.

“......the detectives pulled a dash-cam video from a car behind the BMW when the victim was freed, some still images are in your briefing pack today. Pay attention to the male driver, if you know him let detective Brockman know. The BMW's tags were covered so we have to hope someone sees it with the glass knocked out. If you have garage workshops on your beat check in with them, see if they get asked to do repair work,”

“What do we know of the person who saved the victim? How are we treating them?” asked one of the officers as he flicked through the pages of the briefing, looking up to the Sargent.

“Sargent, if I could field that question,” Kohl began, interrupting Bishop before he could speak.

“Yes sir,” Bishop said, glancing over his shoulder.

“Let me be clear, vigilantism has NO PLACE in our city and is certainly not to be encouraged. That being said there is a difference between someone going out looking for trouble and a good Samaritan being in the right place at the right time. Reach out, see if you can get this person to come forward, she is an important witness. I will be speaking with the press and will pass that message on too,” Kohl said.

“OK, you heard the deputy commissioner. Now let's get out there and serve and protect,” Bishop said, gathering up his paperwork on the podium.

Officer Ashley Hill rose from her chair, papers in hand and turned away, preparing to team up with her assigned partner for the shift ahead.

“Officer Hill, one moment please before you go,” Sargent Bishop said, causing Ashley's heart to sink.

“Sir?” Ashley said as she stopped in her tracks and turned around.

“You have a motorcyle, don't you?” Bishop said assertively, knowing it was true.

“Sure,” Ashley replied innocently. He was right but it was not like she hid the fact. Her fiery red bike stood proudly in the station's parking lot as they spoke.

“You're not part of any bike clubs or anything? It might be helpful identifying who the owner of the black bike is,” Bishop continued.

“Clubs, no, but I will keep my eye out for the bike. But, isn't the man and the BMW more important?” Ashley asked. Her tone was challenging, trying to determine Bishop's priorities.

“Oh he is very important, but the witness may be the key to finding him,” Kohl said, interrupting as he approached.

Ashley looked at Kohl, dissent in her eyes. “I should go, my partner will be waiting for me,” Ashley managed, her tone just civil enough to be acceptable.

“Yes, and stay safe,” Bishop said before Ashley turned away and left the briefing room, pulling the door closed behind her.

There was a respectful pause after Ashley left the room before Kohl and Bishop's eyes met.

“She is suspicious we are targeting the witness,” Bishop said with concern, his arms folding across his chest.

“Witness? Do you really think that bitch-on-a-bike was there by chance? We have a leak, for all we know it could just as well be officer Hill,” Kohl said, motioning with his hand at the spot Ashley had been standing.

“Ashley? You think?” Bishop said with surprise.

“Hmm, maybe, maybe not. We need to watch her. This was supposed to be simple, Bishop. All I wanted was to get the girl and have leverage over her father, Carl. Now we have nothing but loose ends,” growled Kohl.

“I will make sure Flynn takes care of his end,” Bishop said.

“Good, if that woman on the motorbike ever identifies his man it could be trouble. And as for that meddling reporter from The Bugle, she is becoming a thorn in our side too,” Kohl said.

“Oh?”

“We had to release the dash-cam video to her and from the hotel. On top of that she has been asking the medical examiner if they will be releasing the reports from the shooting yesterday over at Brookside. I've said no to that but we need to keep a lid on things,” Kohl explained.

“Did you watch the Brookside raid video at The Bugle website? It sounded more like an execution than a gunfight. If that story gains any traction we could have problems,” Bishop said bitterly.

“Asset forfeiture keeps the money flowing and you won't be complaining when you retire. But you're right, that bungled shooting has left us exposed. Have the reporter kept in check and put eyes on officer Hill,” Kohl said.

“And if that doesn't work?” Bishop asked with concern.

“Well then we will have to make them …. go away,” Kohl said sinisterly.


= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

Laura dashed into the offices of The Bugle after having returned home from the hospital, changing and heading back out. She had even paid out for a taxi to get to work as fast as she could rather than take the bus.

Walking at pace she looked for Erin praying she would find her still there and then make her apologies. Laura had already tried to ring the reporter without success and left a message to tell her she would be late.

“GRANGER! You're here!” Barnes the chief editor exclaimed seeing Laura. He was stood at someone's desk talking when he saw the young red head arrive.

“Oh no,” groaned Laura to herself, “I am so sorry Mr Barnes I ...” Laura began to explain.

“Come with me,” Barnes said calmly as he led Laura towards the conference room. Laura's heart sank as she expected to be given a dressing down by her boss and only on her second day.

Entering the glass walled conference room Laura felt a sense of doom as Barnes closed the door behind her before walking closer to the table in the middle of the room.

“Heck of a night, huh?” Barnes began. His mood was hard for Laura to gauge. Sarcasm perhaps or sincerity?

“I guess Erin told you all about it,” Laura said meekly, worry lines forming across her brow.

“It was a hard night for Erin too, she was up until quite late giving witness statements to the police and she was in very early this morning ready to get information from the police for the story. I had hoped as a partnership you two would have been on the same page getting into action today,” Barnes said. He wasn't angry but his disappointment was becoming obvious.

“I'm so sorry, it's not an excuse but I had stayed at Neyra's bedside overnight and...” began Laura, head down.

“Oh, I see, I hadn't realised you were that close...” Barnes asked in surprise.

“Erin didn't tell you? I thought she would have said something,” Laura said with a frown.

“Tell me what?” Barnes asked again, frustrated by the tangent the conversation had gone off in.

Laura looked up at Barnes with hesitation but decided to finally confess. “We don't get in people's faces about it but, well, Neyra and I … we are … you know?”

“Ah! Oh! Oh Laura I am so sorry, is she okay?” Barnes suddenly understood. He wasn't talking to the victims friend, but her significant other!

“She hadn't woken up when I left the hospital, but her father is there now. I stayed with her overnight and he's going to hang around with her,” Laura said. It seemed a relief to be able to talk to someone.

“But everything is okay?” Barnes pressed.

“So far all I know is they expect her to wake up with a sore head any time soon,” Laura explained.

“You must be tired, perhaps it would be better to write off today. I can juggle the roster and ...” Barnes explained, resigned to the idea of Laura taking time off.

“No, I am good, honestly, I am just sorry I lost track of time. I will try and raise Erin and...” Laura said, confidence returning before Barnes interrupted her.

“No need, she's back,” Barnes said nodding in Erin's direction through the glass wall. She had returned from a quick trip out to get information from the police about the events of the night before.

“I should probably go explain myself to her,” Laura said as she looked out at Erin then back at Barnes.

“Laura, I know she can be pushy at times but she's not a mercenary and at the end of the day I am her editor. If you have doubts about her not keeping good boundaries with what she learns about you as her work colleague at least have a little confidence in me? It's not like she is going to write some hatchet piece about you and get it straight into print,” Barnes said, his voice reassuring and calm.

Laura looked back out Erin who seemed to be very intense about something and then back at Barnes once more.

“OK, I'll try and relax a little,” Laura said.

“Good, now get going. If you keep going as well as you did yesterday you two can report good stories together,” Barnes said, gesturing to the door.

= = = = = = = = = = = = =

Neyra turned over slightly in her hospital bed, her limbs stretching before her eyes fluttered open.

“Oh...” Neyra mumbled as she took in her surroundings. Then there was a moment of panic.

“Where ...” Neyra said, more alert and frightened.

“Neyra, it's okay, it's okay, I'm here...” Carl said as he saw Nerya coming to.

Neyra flinched as she heard her father's voice and turned her head to face him, her bewildered expression confirming what he had been warned about.

“This is a hospital! What happened? Was there an accident or …. oh god, Laura, is she okay?” Neyra began, her mind anxious for answers.

“Shhhh listen, it's okay,” Carl said as he took Neyra's hand.

“Father, please, what has …. oh no,” Neyra said, a momentary fear causing her hand beneath the bed sheets to reach to her groin.

“No no no, it's ok, you're alright, you had a close call, that's all,” Carl said as he leaned in to his daughter pulling her up from the bed and against his chest into his embrace.

“What happened to me!” Neyra pleaded, her eyes misting unseen, her chin resting on her fathers shoulder as she held him tight. The evident memory gap was distressing for Neyra.

“That's what we are trying to piece together, Neyra,” Carl replied as he gave his daughter a squeeze before letting her lay back on the bed.

“Can't you tell me anything? How did I end up here? You must know something. And where is Laura, is she ok?” Neyra asked, a tear running down her cheek.

“Laura is fine I promise. Wow, you really don't remember anything, do you. The doctor warned me that you probably wouldn't. The drug in your system was a powerful sedative, and unfortunately they say it affects memory formation. Throw in some alcohol and a person can be quickly overwhelmed by it,” Carl said sadly.

“I swear father, I am not into doing drugs” Neyra said defensively.

“I know, this was someone else's doing,” Carl said as he tore some tissues from a small box on the bedside table and passed them to Neyra. She nodded in thanks as Carl sat himself down, his outstretched hand holding hers as she wiped her eyes.

“So please, tell me what happened,” Neyra asked as she recomposed herself, preparing to hear what had happened to her.



“From what we understand you had been dancing with Laura then went to the bathroom where we think that reporter, Erin found you feeling unwell. You asked her to come fetch me or Laura but she couldn't find us, probably because we were talking with someone. When she went to return to you you were headed into an elevator. She couldn't stop you in time so she took an elevator down to get you. She went to the lobby to look for you but you weren't there but when she checked outside you were …. well ...” Carl paused. Up until then he had been composed as he explained what had happened.

“Oh no, what did I do?” Neyra asked. She dreaded thinking what she may have been doing in her drugged state.

“Erin, the reporter. She saw you in the back of a car. She tried to chase after you but the driver sped off before she could do anything,” Carl said, with difficulty. The idea that someone had taken his daughter from under his nose sickened him.

“A CAR? Where was I taken? I …..” Neyra's said as she drew her knees to her chest, her arms wrapping around herself. She had absolutely no recollection of any of the events her father was telling her about.

“That's when you were rescued. Whoever she was she was a real hero,” Carl began.

“Rescued? By who!” Neyra asked. She thought she knew the answer was Spydra but had to wait for Carl to confirm it.

“A woman on a motorcycle, she seemed to know you were in the back of the car and while you were stopped at a red light she pulled you out. Some people looked after you until the police arrived but by then the woman and the car you were in had disappeared. After that they brought you here. Laura stayed with you all night and I took over from her this morning.” Carl continued.

Neyra's jaw dropped. Not only had she no recollection of her escapade but she had thought it would be Laura as Spydra who had rescued her. As she tried to organise her thoughts though she realised that Laura in her little green dress was unlikely to have gone spider webbing her way across town from the event in pursuit.

“How is Laura handling it?” Nerya asked.

“I think she's blaming herself that she didn't realise what was happening,” Carl explained.

“Oh she shouldn't do that! It wasn't her fault what happened. I have to talk to her,” Neyra said as she hauled herself up in her bed.

“Patience, Neyra. The doctors should release you soon but I think the police will need to speak to you at some point, but I will message her that you are awake and ok,” Carl explained.

Neyra's head dropped in disappointment but her father's words rang true. She could only hope Laura would come to terms with the limitations of her gifts. There was a trait Laura so desired to have but fate had given it to her best friend, Jen instead. It was the sense of danger to her friends and loved ones that had been denied Laura. Her own sense of danger seemed to only react to threats to herself. If she was not affected by some threat she wasn't alerted. This then had been how Neyra's spiked drink was able to linger in Laura's grasp undetected until the moment she went to drink it.

Had Laura come to terms with that lesson from some time ago, Neyra wondered.

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

SOME MONTHS BEFORE

Laura stood on the mat facing Lucy, their bodies padded, their hands and feet bound in boxer's wrap to protect their extremities. Neyra and Lisa Kozny watched from the sidelines as the exercise began silently whispering their hopes for their “own girl” to win.

“OK, let's dance little spider,” Lucy said as she slammed in her gum shield before initiating a bow.

Laura mimicked her sensei, her eyes staying on target before she stood upright again.

“Hghgn!” growled Lucy as she went into the attack, closing the distance to Laura before unloading a flurry of punches that were deftly dodged and blocked by Laura.

Laura was wide eyed at the opening volley of Lucy's attack which unsettled her a moment before acrobatic counter kicks went Lucy's way.

“Lu's playing for keeps today!” Lisa whispered to Neyra who nodded while staring ahead at the match in amazement.

The two combatants tested, probed, blocked and countered, though Laura was getting the upper hand. Her inherent strength and tolerance to pain made her more than a match for regular humans, allowing her to fight outside her league. Add in her ability to sense danger and her new martial arts training to make use of that sense and she made for a formidable opponent.

“Good job Lu!” Lisa called, encouraging her partner on.

“Lucy is incredible,” Neyra confessed as she admired the compact Asian powerhouse.

Lisa let out a wry smile. “Oh she's incredible alright,” the New York detective confirmed. Although Lisa's mind was on Lucy's other talents and charms Neyra suspected that was the case and said nothing though her normally wise eyes betrayed her understanding.

The two combatants slowly wheeled this way and that on the mat as the contest went on and although Laura sensed Lucy was trying to get her to end up with her back to their private audience she couldn't quite grasp why until …

With widening eyes Lucy sensed her moment to hopefully strike and teach her young student a valuable lesson about herself.

“Hyaaaa !” Lucy growled as she dug deep into her reserves, sending a wicked combination of punches at Laura. Laura was surprised by Lucy's efforts, her senses no longer reading the danger anywhere near as clearly as before. Crudely dodging and having her guard knocked away Laura was off balance for what was to come.

“WHAaaaa” Lucy lept up, a roundhouse kick landing on the side of Laura's headguard, slamming her to the ground. As Lucy continued to spin in the air her right arm wound up tight by her side ready to strike.

“Ooooooh” groaned Lisa and Neyra together in sympathy as they saw Laura go down hard onto the mat.

Slamming to the mat on her back Laura's eyes went wide with surprise. She hadn't really sensed those punches coming and barely registered the kick. She was sure this wasn't yet another experiment to drug her but how...

“Boop!” Lucy landed astride Laura's waist and feigned a punch to Laura's head, her index finger dabbing Laura on the nose at the end of her lightning strike.

Laura groaned knowing that Lucy's token strike represented the knockout blow that would have ended the contest. Lisa whooped at Lucy's victory leaving Neyra to look on enviously but with a smile back at her. Laura though was left doubting herself, her unspoken questions about her defeat written all over her face. Lucy offered her hand and pulled Laura to her feet before the pair shared a momentary embrace.

“How did … why … what happened?” Laura began, speechless.

“Once I manoeuvred you to be between me, Lisa and Neyra, whenever I struck I was striking at them through you. I had to put you completely out of my mind. The moment that happened your senses must have given out on you,” Lucy explained, gulping some water that Lisa passed to her.

Laura nodded in reluctant acceptance of what she was being told. It was hard one moment being unstoppable and then being so easily exposed but it was a valuable lesson about her own vulnerabilities.

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =


Erin was sat her desk, Laura stood looking over her shoulder at the screen of her computer.

“Not my finest moment,” Erin said as she saw herself tip toeing barefoot into camera shot before unleashing her shoe at the car at the edge of the field of view.

Laura watched on wide eyed as the recording from the hotel's CCTV system played out. Erin was then seen throwing her second shoe, scoring a direct hit on the car's rear fender before it sped away.

“Remind me not to upset you when armed with shoes,” Laura quipped. Until that moment she hadn't fully understood what role Erin had had in the previous night's events.

“I am a bad shot really, I was aiming for the tail lights,” scoffed Erin, a lie which for a moment had drawn in Laura before the red head realised Erin was joking.

There was a pause as the pair studied the imagery play out and the recorded Erin returned towards the hotel entranceway.

“Erin, I, I owe you an apology,” Laura said despondently as she processed what she had seen.

“Oh?” Erin said, glancing up at Laura who hovered over her shoulder.

“I thought when you discovered Neyra was drugged you were going to try and make a story out of her. I ….” Laura faltered. It was a difficult confession to make.

“Laura, I'm not some ambulance chasing predator, she was in trouble and had asked me to help her. Now forget it, let's watch the second video, it has a real hero on it apparently,” Erin said as she dragged the first video frame away and played the second file she had dragged onto her desktop.

The video began, the car the dash-cam was mounted on turning at a junction before driving down a long broad street. Ahead a BMW pulled out from the hotel exit and carefully slotted itself into the light traffic several cars ahead.

“There they are,” Erin said as she noted down the time index the BMW appeared, “Aaaaand there's our heroine. Hmmm nice bike …. looks custom almost,” Erin followed on noting the motorcycle passing by, moving further ahead.

“You can tell that?” Laura said, cocking her head.

“I may look all responsible and grown up now but I used to ride like a demon, once upon a time,” Erin said mischievously.

The precession of cars moved on before eventually the BWM, the car with the Dash-Cam and the motorbike filtered into a lane, stopping at a red light.

Erin hit pause as the vigilante in black started to take notice of the occupants of the BMW.

“Hmm, did she know about the kidnapping in advance?” Erin murmured before resuming.

The scene played on as the vigilante launched her attack, making quick work of the passenger window and pulling open the door to free Neyra.

“She certainly seemed ready for trouble,” Laura said noting the baton as the recording went on.

As Cruz emerged from the car the camera caught his face and Erin hit pause again, studying his features. While the reporter didn't know him she certainly had a feeling of deja vu. Laura at her side though had no such feelings, she recognised him straight away.

“I wasn't sure when I caught a glimpse of that man on the night but now I'm sure I have seen him somewhere before,” Erin said.

Laura remained silent but her eyes burned as she studied Cruz. His clothing was different and if that car was his he had certainly stepped up since she last remembered seeing him. In her very first foray as Spydra, before she had even met Supergirl and her friends she had encountered Cruz and what seemed to be his gang. The young man called Wickes had warned her that Cruz would 'fuck her up' and back then he might of done but she was a different sort of heroine now.

Laura smiled to herself as Erin resumed the video, Cruz taking a strong blow to the leg by the vigilante's baton before Neyra was dragged onto the tarmac from the car.

“Poor Neyra,” Laura said silently to herself before her hand rose to cover her mouth.

“Neyra appears to be completely out of it by then. Man that drug worked fast,” Erin said, not hearing Laura's words.

“Whoever that woman is she seems pretty tough, she has skills and seems to know how to handle weapons too,” Laura said, impressed as she saw the vigilante twirl her baton.

“Hmmm, you don't think it might be possible that ...” frowned Erin as she paused mid thought.

“What?” Laura asked as Erin flopped back in her seat.

“Well, the bike's tags are covered up, all black leathers, tinted visored helmet and able to take care of herself. They could easily be the sort of person who stopped the store robbers we were looking at yesterday. Either she knew there was going to be trouble at the event last night or she was out there looking for it,” Erin said.

“I guess but you can't really be sure, can you?” Laura asked in disbelief. While she was quite happy to keep Spydra low on the radar for now at least she wasn't in a hurry for someone else to take the credit or blame for her handiwork.

“Well, what matters is that whoever she was she saved your friend,” Erin said as the driver of the car with the dash-cam crouched down at Neyra's side as the pulsing lights of police cars became evident in the distance.

Laura watched the approaching police lights and poor Neyra, barely present, cuffed and curled up on her side on the cold tarmac. It hurt to see her like that, and it hurt not taking ownership of her true relationship with her in front of Erin, like she had abandoned Neyra out there on the road herself.

“Erin, I don't want to have to dance around this any more but listen, Neyra, she and I, well, we are more than just friends. It's been that way more or less before we were taken,” Laura confessed.

“Oh! I see,” replied Erin, momentarily shocked as things fell into place. The 'HockeyGirl' artwork, their joint abduction and their continuing friendship beyond their escape all made sense.

“There, I said it,” Laura said as she stood back hands flopping to her side in resignation.

“I like to think I stick to the relevant facts and if I don't I trust Barnes to put me straight. THIS is news, right there on screen. You and your relationship isn't relevant. Maybe a passing reference to her previous abduction is but I'm not going to be plastering your love life all over page one, understand?” Erin said, tired of this constant impasse.

“Barnes basically said the same thing,” Laura said with a sigh, gesturing to Barnes who was on the phone in his office beyond the glass wall.

Erin looked back at Barnes thoughtfully for a moment and took a breath, “Listen, I have a ton of work to do here. There is the event from last night and this incident as well to get down,” Erin said, flexing her fingers ready to get typing.

“But, if you are staying here what shall I do?” Laura asked, puzzled.

“Oh don't worry, Chris and I have plenty of other work for you to do,” Erin scoffed as she slid a piece of paper off her desk and passed it to Laura.

= = = = = = = = = = = =


Cruz was laid legs splayed in the corner of the cell he had created for Neyra. On the floor opposite him lay the length of chain that should have now been keeping the black beauty prisoner. Instead he was now alone, empty beer bottles strewn around him and an empty pizza box by his side. With the cell door open Cruz could hear the familiar sound of Flynn's car, the throaty exhaust echoing off the metal store room entrance .

“For fuck's sake, gimme a break,” Cruz grunted, rolling his eyes.

BAM BAM BAM

“Open up!” Flynn demanded.

Cruz dragged himself up from the floor and walked out into the tiled store room and looked at the image on the CCTV. With a sigh Cruz pulled open the door and let Flynn pass inside, no words passing between them.

Cruz pulled the storeroom door closed behind him and turned around.

“I wondered wheeeuuuuuuughhhhhhhhh” Cruz wheezed as Flynn delivered a blow to his stomach before being shoved back against the door.

“You had one fucking job,” Flynn began, his arms rising skyward with dismay.

“Hey, you wasn't there man,” Cruz protested.

“Don't give me that crap,” Flynn continued, waving an index finger at Cruz's face. Cruz could see that Flynn was more than just disappointed.

“I got made somehow, it was like they were waiting for me or something. This was a setup, Flynn,” Cruz continued.

“They?” Flynn grunted.

“I barely got down the street when that Neyra bitch got sprung. There were too many witnesses to get her back and the cops were coming. You told me I'd get a clear run, not some ambush bullshit,” Cruz went on as he straightened his attire.

“For your information there was no 'THEY'! It's all over YouTube how you got your balls busted by some girl on a bike! And to think I used you as muscle,” Flynn sneered.

“There is a VIDEO?” Cruz exclaimed.

“Yes, you piece of shit, the car behind you had a dash-cam, the video is up on the local news sites. Luckily it's not great , no one has pointed the finger at you,” Flynn continued, his mood settling. Evidently having given Cruz a punch had helped take some of the stress away.

“This ain't my fault, Flynn. I did my job, someone else didn't do theirs,” Cruz said, trying to reason with his co-conspirator.

“Where is Donny's car?” Flynn asked, changing subject.

“I abandoned it over near one of the parks in Southbridge,” Cruz said, his arm gesturing in some far off direction.

“Well at least you didn't bring it here,” Flynn said scathingly as he folded his arms.

“I'm not a moron,” Cruz countered.

“No, but you got beat up by a girl,” Flynn scoffed as he sniffed the air, noting the smell of beer.

“Yeah, I had a few beers last night after I got back from ditching the car. I'm not stupid, I knew our deal was busted so I thought, fuck it, I'll have a drink!” Cruz said defensively.

“Well, get over yourself. You need to burn the clothes you wore and then you need to lay low for a while. There will be other opportunities, I'm sure.” Flynn said.

“And what about all this?” Cruz said, gesturing to the plain wood sheet walls that he had installed.

“Leave it for now. When I get new tenants they can deal with it,” Flynn said.

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =


Neyra waved to her father from steps of her house. Once he had driven away she stepped inside, closed the door and leaned back onto it hearing the reassuring click of the lock. Despite wanting to return to work Carl had insisted she take the rest of the day off. After being prodded and pulled about by doctors and then briefly questioned by a detective who had been advised of her impending release the morning had quickly evaporated and Neyra's father could tell she could do with some rest.

Neyra was in jeans and long sleeved top, clothes that her father had brought for her to the hospital. The ER staff at the hospital had undressed her it seemed and her beautiful white dress had been taken as evidence by the police. Neyra considered sleeping but felt she had slept enough and decided to just relax.

Neyra walked to the kitchen and gathered an apple, some grapes, and a small orange and set about cutting the apple into sections before peeling the orange, breaking apart the delicate segments. With her bowl of tasty fruit prepared she filled a small glass with water and went to the living room and curled up at one end of a sofa, turning on the large TV in the room. The TV lit up, the image of a news caster appearing on screen as the headline ticker ran along the bottom.


“There was drama today when there was an issue with one of the three helicopters that make up the President's helicopter detail. The President was on her way to Camp David onboard Marine One when shortly after take off at about 2pm smoke was seen coming from one of the three aircraft causing the flight to make a brief stop-over within the RFK stadium at the east of the city. A spokesman for The White House explained that the President was never in danger and that the stop over was a simple precaution while.........”

Neyra picked at some fruit as she watched the news piece continue and reached for her glass of water. As she watched some shaky cellphone video of the smoking helicopter she sipped some water then returned the glass to the small table in front of her and...

PUTIIISHHHH

Neyra had set the glass down a little near the edge causing it to tip off and explode on the floor. In that moment as Neyra looked down at the shattered glass her eyes widened as a memory flooded over her, one that was not hers.

= = = = = = =

“Well .. you know …...” started the young man, pointing with a potato wedge at Neyra before it plummeted to its death inside his mouth …. “you need a boyfriend eventually ….. we cant keep being 2.5 couples forever …..”

Neyra smiled silently in reply as she took another sip of her drink.

Neyra's head filled with alien thoughts.“Man, why are they always pressuring me? I just don't feel this need to date like they do. Is there something wrong with me? Am I different?”

Just then from the corner of Neyra's eye she could see a waitress approach the table.

“Hi, I'm Neyra, Ill be your server for the remainder of the evening, is everything ok here, can I get you anything ?”

Neyra looked up in disbelief to see herself, pencil and notepad in hand and then she realised what was happening.

“The gift – the gift from McGee! This is one of Laura's memories!”

The two young men ordered something, distracting Neyra's train of thought before her waitress form turned to her and spoke again.

“Oh and I understand its your birthday, congratulations” Neyra the waitress said giving a subtle wink as her eyes met what would have been Laura's.

“Oh ….thanks ...” gushed Neyra, no wait, it had been Laura who replied that way.

“OK . Ill be right back with your order birthday girl ...” Neyra the waitress said before she spun around and went.

Neyra's thoughts seemed to blur with the stream of thoughts from Laura's memory as she tried to process what was going on. The sounds, the smells and the sights were vivid and real to Neyra as if she had been Laura herself.

“Did I just hit on me, err Laura? Did I really flirt with Laura straight out the gate … I ….. wow I look hot as a waitress, oh god, heart racing …. but , I'm not a narcissist, why do I feel like...oh wait, that's how Laura felt but ...wow I'm cute....and ….god I want to play with her hair and bite her and …...god I want her to just do things to me.....hmmmm.... ”

Laura went to put the glass of cola that she held in her hand back on the table and ...

PUTIIISHHHH

Neyra, inside Laura's body and a memory that wasn't her own looked down at the glass of cola that was now broken on the floor, her nameless companions asking her if she as okay. Slowly the clarity of the alien memory faded, merging back into her own recollections of what had happened next.

= = = = = = = = =

Now, Neyra looked down at the glass and the small quantity of water on the living room's hard wood floor snapping her back to the present.

“Oh Laura, you really were all over the map, weren't you,” Neyra thought, fondly recalling how she had to help the young red head go through the difficulties of her emerging spider powers.

It was those very powers that then caught Supergirl's attention but after an awkward start their friendship had grown. Although Kara herself did not always have time, her friends, Lucy, Lisa and Selena had all helped Laura grow just as Neyra had done and after one thrilling test they had finally been introduced to their last secret friend, McGee.

McGee, a sort of mind reader and memory manipulator had demonstrated some of his special gift to Neyra and Laura upon their meeting. Startling them both with how he could pluck answers from their minds he then left them both each with a special present. A short memory from each others perspective, he placed them in each other's head to find when the right trigger happened. The smashing glass had dragged Neyra back to the moment Laura first set eyes on her.

Neyra blinked back to the present as she saw a blur of red and blue on the TV from the corner of her eye.

“In other news, Supergirl made a public appearance this morning, this time at the re-opening of The Hope Bridge in Eastern Europe. The bridge, originally constructed in the first century BC was damaged during civil war in the region and now , five years after a peace deal the road link separating the two former warring factions has finally been restored … our European correspondent Edward Goddard was there to cover the event …..”

“Life is precious...” Supergirl's voice began, scissors in hand as she made her speech ahead of cutting the symbolic ribbon.

“You tell them, Kara!” grinned Neyra as she rose to her feet. She had some cleaning up to do.

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

Laura parked Erin's car and gathered up her things. Her camera bag was sat next to her on the passenger seat as was a pair of heeled shoes. Found on a low wall that made up the island of shrubbery surrounding the sign for The Andromeda Hotel, Laura was sure they were Erin's. Erin had thrown them at the car being used to abduct Neyra and afterwards they couldn't be found. Laura had gone back to the hotel to get photos of the scene for Erin and that's when she found the shoes.

Now though Laura was in Southbridge. Chris the Deputy Editor had an ongoing project to update The Bugle's photo library and seeing that Erin had a lot of work to do had asked if he could borrow her photographer. The Bugle's photo library was extensive and well catalogued but periodically needed an update. Locations changed over time and 'things' got updated and so it was time for a refresh.

“Hmmm, the skate park,” Laura thought to herself as she studied the list.

Camera bag over her shoulder Laura secured Erin's car and passed through the iron railing gate into a small park that was nestled in between some mid rise apartments. Laura felt eyes on her quickly but she felt safe and headed towards the skate area. A few years old the park with its concrete curved ramps and walls served to give the teens who enjoyed to skate or ride bikes an opportunity to expend their energy in a safe place.

Laura surveyed the area and decided how to set up her shots. It was quiet with few people around and so Laura was able to shoot freely. Taking snaps from a variety of locations Laura made a few notes on her index sheet and her mind began to think on what was next when she sensed trouble. Eyes were on her, agile eyes as if ….

Laura looked around her while putting her camera back into its bag then pulled it close to her body. Then she heard not voices, but the sounds of exertion as suddenly a group of five youths appeared. The five boys were engaged in parkour, the new fad of the day. Leaping, bouncing and swinging from handrails and fences the group seemed to know their playground well as they navigated menacingly towards Laura.

Laura sized them up. As Spydra they would be nothing, but as a typical young woman they would be a problem and she was tied to behaving in a credible way. That fact had been drilled into her by just about everyone who knew her secret, Kara being the one to plead with her the most. However, being credible didn't mean having to take trouble lying down, resistance was allowed.

Dashing closer, hopping over a metal rail to close the distance the group surrounded Laura who spun around, looking them over, sizing them up. During the “test” that Lucy and Selena had conjured up for her Laura had ended up going hand-to-hand with some special forces types, coming out on top. As Spydra these mere boys would already be toast,

“Hey babe,” a young youth in a red hoodie said with feigned charm.

“Hey sexy,” an older youth said, following up.

“Give me a break,” Laura replied caustically, her arm instinctively smacking away a hand that threatened to pinch her behind.

“Woooah red, easy!” the owner of the encroaching hand said, recoiling away.

“Hey how about you take some photos of us, girl!?” one of the other young men asked, the ring of youths tightening their circle.

“Don't you know anything about personal space?” Laura said, anxious not to rise to the bait but just leave.

“Sure babe, we'd love to get into your …. 'personal space',” the older youth said with a grin, an indicative finger pointing down to Laura's crotch.

Laura rolled her eyes, her senses already telling her that these youngsters wouldn't know what to do with a woman even if she offered herself to them. Laura went to step forward and out the circle only to be blocked.

“Hey, hey, what's the hurry, we all just got here. Come on, show us your camera,” one of the other youth's said, his words trying to sugar coat his obvious deceit.

“I'm going,” Laura said bluntly as she went to walk out the circle a second time.

Suddenly there seemed to be this sense of urgency that struck Laura as a wave of different instincts flowed through her. Many hands grabbed at Laura at all at once, the offender who went to reach for her breasts quickly finding his thumb in a painful hold and having to stand on tip toe in a bid not to lose his digit. Another hand loomed in to touch her butt but her heeled shoe quickly stomped onto his toes causing him to retreat hobbling.

Then it happened. Laura didn't understand how but for her it was like a instinct blackout, an EMP that seemed to disconnect her. A youth's hand swept in towards Laura's crotch in a bid to distract her and boy did it distract. Pulsing from what felt like her abdomen an uncontrolled reflex seemed to radiate out causing her cling instinct to misfire, her panties literally performing a wedgie on herself while her breasts were given a firm squeeze by her bra. Just in time Laura brought herself back under control but not without a tiny dew like drop of web welling up from her wrists.

“Hey!” Laura said, managing to brush the threatening hand away before its owner could get a cheap grope. Now Laura was losing her patience but as she was fending off the nuisances finally she left herself open for …

“RUN!” the elder youth said, seeing one of his younger friends snag the strap of the camera bag.

The youth's began to scatter while the eldest ran with the one with the camera towards the edge of the park.

“Hey, give that back,” yelled Laura, annoyed she had let them get the better of her. Taking chase she intended to teach these boys a lesson.


Effortlessly hopping over a fence and rolling away the pair of parkouring youths sped across the quiet narrow street and into an alley between two mid rise apartment blocks. With a well rehearsed leap the elder youth caught hold of the pull down ladder of a fire escape and began to ascend. Laura was fast and fit but found herself having to contain her abilities somewhat and so a gap had formed between them.

Reaching the top of the ladder the youth's retracted it then began to casually ascend the fire escape sure of their escape. Laura sprinted into the alley and saw the young men who paused to watch her, certain of her imminent frustration at not being able to follow them. Now Laura was annoyed. She wasn't going to climb the wall, she had to go up after them.

Positioning herself beneath the ladder Laura lept, fingertips barely touching the ladder, much to the youths satisfaction. With laughter the pair continued upwards at a fast walking pace as Laura landed into a crouch. The first failed leap had been for their benefit. Now she was leaping for real.

With a clatter the ladder came down, Laura's second unseen leap easily reaching the ladder and dragging it downwards to the ground.

“Oh shit, she did it, move!” the older youth said in dismay.

Clattering up the fire escape the trio continued the chase. Laura had no idea where they were going but she knew by the time they reached the roof she would be close.

TISH-TISH-TISH sounded the metal grating as it rattled under their feet.

The two youths finally reached the roof, their breathing heavy. No one had ever taken chase before and now they were really having to work for their prize, the camera. Trotting over the roof the youngsters were looking to continue their well rehearsed escape route. Previous pursuers never knew that the parkour practising youths would leap to a neighbouring roof and away with their ill gotten gains. Today though this young woman was pushing them hard.

Laura started on the final flight of stairs as the two panting youths looked at the familiar chasm. Normally an easier jump when fresh they had worked a lot harder than normal and felt the tiredness in their legs. The younger youth handed the camera to his older comrade and psyched himself up for the jump. The opposite roof was a few feet lower than where he was leaping from and many feet away.

“Come on, hurry up,” the older youth urged as looked back from where they had come from.

There were moments of doubt as the challenge felt doubly hard this time and reluctantly the youngster paced backwards before sprinting to the roof's edge and …..

BOBOOM – BOBOOM – BOBOOM his heart raced, the only sound he heard as he sailed in the air before making the landing on the other side with a dramatic roll.

Stopping in his tracks the panicked youngster looked back to see his elder comrade look anxiously back over his shoulder at something he couldn't see.

“Fuck,” the elder youth said as he retreated back and out of sight ready to jump.

The elder youth, camera bag held tight began to sprint to the edge of the roof and lept as Laura was closing in on him. The youth landed on his leading foot right at the lip of the far roof just a little short. His foot slipped down the wall, his hand catching on the edge before suddenly his younger compatriot grabbed him by the forearm.

“Oh fuck, hold on,” the younger youth said as he desperately fought to keep his grip.

“Im gonna fall! I'm gonna fall!” the older youth screamed, his voice rising in octaves as he felt his younger companion's grasp loosen.

The younger youth was being dragged to the edge and though he would never admit it the idea that he may have to let his older companion go in order to preserve his own life did cross his mind.

Laura dashed to the roof edge and looked over and saw what was happening.

“Oh no, hold on, I'm coming!” Laura shouted anxiously.

“Please, help me!” the younger youth begged.

“I'm gonna die, I'm gonna die,” the older youth continued to wail.

Laura backed up a little and ran to the roof edge and jumped, landing comfortably on the other side. She then reached over the edge of the roof, her hand grabbing the youth by his other arm that flailed weakly to reach up at her. Laura had a firm hold of him, and by secretly using her ability to cling was in no danger or being dragged over the edge. Looking the younger youth in the eye she could tell he was relieved she was there but it was important that he was part of the rescue to help disguise her true power.

“On three!” Laura urged.

The younger youth nodded enthusiastically in reply, his sweat drenched hands losing grip by the second.

“One – Two – THREE !!”

With a firm yank the older youth was hauled up onto the roof coming to rest on his hands and knees.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” the older youth blubbed as he began to rise.

“Give me that!” demanded Laura as she yanked back her camera bag from the youth who reluctantly surrendered it to her.

The younger youth took flight abandoning his compatriot who seemed to be in awe of the woman who chased them down. No one had managed to catch them until now and this ….'secretary' type with the camera bag had hunted them down with ease.

“Get out of here before I do something I regret,” Laura growled.

The youth took chase of his younger companion across the roof and beyond out of sight. Laura looked herself over. She hadn't even broken out into a sweat though her attire was a little bit in disarray. With a quick brush down though dignity was close to being restored and she began her descent down the second building's fire escape and into an alley below. Walking back towards the park Laura had a sudden sickening feeling as her eyes fell upon a BMW.

Standing lonely and slightly hidden from the main road Laura noted the smashed out rear passenger door's glass.

“Could it be?” Laura wondered.

Slowly walking around the car it was hard to tell. They had no license plate of the offending car to work from and the car in front of her had no real identifying features other than the broken window. Then she spied something revealing. On the rear window there was a black scuff mark and similarly there was another on the rear of the car too. Erin's heels!

“I better call this in!” Laura thought to herself as she drew out her phone.

= = = = = = = = = = = = =

Erin had been pounding her keyboard for much of the day. She had her coverage of the benefit event to write and then of course there was the failed kidnapping. Balancing the two stories in a sympathetic way was a challenge. What had happened to Neyra shouldn't be swept under the rug but of course it was during a charitable event which also had an important message to carry.

With skill Erin had charted her course through the story and after reading and re-reading her piece and verifying her facts with the police statements and her notes delivered her work to Barnes for review.


“There you go, Boss,” Erin said, rubbing her eyes. She had been up late from the event the night before and been hard at work since early in the morning.

Barnes glanced at his watch, mentally juggling deadlines and column inches in his head. Tomorrow's edition had plenty of content lined up and he could tell Erin was more or less spent.

“I think that's you done for the day. Is Laura back with your car yet?” Barnes asked as he spun around at his desk putting a tick against Erin's name on his whiteboard.

“No, I will check in with her now. But you sure about me being done, it's a little early,” Erin asked.

“I've got more than enough inches for tomorrow. There's always that sideline project you can work on while you wait. But I want you rested for tomorrow, there is that application for the casino going through the city council that I want you to cover,” Barnes said.

“Sure, of course boss,” Erin began to reply then felt her phone vibrate in her pocket.

“Good. How are you and Granger getting on now by the way?” Barnes asked as he observed Erin frown as she read a message on her phone.

“She's a strange one that girl .. but …. she certainly seems to have talent helping with our stories!” Erin grinned as she showed the screen of her phone to Barnes.

“I think I found the car! Hurry if you want a scoop, I've just called the police!” read the message along with an image of the BMW.

“Here, take my car and get out there!” Barnes said as he reached into his drawer and pulled out a bunch of keys.

“You got it!” Erin replied enthusiastically.

= = = = = = = = = = = = = =

When Erin arrived on the scene the alleyway had already been cordoned off by uniformed officers while a tow truck was being positioned ready to load the suspect BMW on board.

Laura, camera hanging loose from her neck was just outside the cordon and holding a pair of high heels in her hand as she spoke to Detective Brockman.

“Oh, here is Erin now,” Laura said, nodding in Erin's direction as she approached.

“Detective Brockman,” Erin said.

“Miss Tate, how fortunate you are here,” Brockman began.

“Oh, are those my shoes?” Erin asked with a frown noting what was in Laura's hand.

“I'm not sure. I found them near the hotel when I took location photos for your story,” Laura explained.

“Miss Tate, if you could just look them over?” Brockman asked.

“Sure, may I?” Erin began, offering her hands out to receive her shoes. Laura offered them to Erin who glanced over them and noting the worn makers mark on the insides nodded in confirmation.

“I bought these on a work visit in Argentina, see, Buenos Aires. You're not going to find this shoe maker's brand on the shelves here,” Erin said, her thumb circling the maker's mark.

“OK, good, we can get the scuff marks on this car matched to the colour off these shoes. If we are lucky we might even find some evidence of Miss Thornton having been in the back,” Brockman said as his eyes indicated to a white clad forensics man to bag up the shoes.

Erin sighed knowing she was going to have to wait a long time before she ever got her favourite heels back but at least she knew they were safe. Being the reporter though she seized on Brockman's momentary lapse. He had spoken to her sympathetically as a witness and might accidentally let a few facts slip past his lips.

“Do you know who's car it is? Do you have any more leads?” Erin asked.

“If it happens that we are in need of media assistance in identifying the owner we will no doubt be in touch,” Brockman said. His tone of voice indicated it was a pre-programmed response having flipped from dealing with a witness affected by events to dealing with a member of the press.

Erin nodded in acceptance and then the cordon opened as the tow truck with the suspect BMW was let out of the alleyway. The car was covered in a special sheet ready to be processed by the forensic team and only the outline gave away the sort of car underneath. Laura raised her camera and took a few shots of the truck before it left the scene.

“OK, let's start canvassing the area and see if we can find anyone who saw who ditched the car,” Brockman said to a few uniformed officers.

“I guess there isn't much more to see,” Erin said as Laura began to slide her camera back into its bag.

“Well …..” Laura said cagily looking anxiously around as Brockman headed away.

Laura gestured with her head for the pair to leave causing Erin to frown but Laura continued on, leading the reporter away.

“What is it?” Erin asked in a low voice.

“The BMW, it doesn't have its tags but the VIN number is on a plate visible through the windscreen” Laura explained in a low voice as the pair walked onwards.

“Tell me you've got the number,” gushed Erin.

Laura glanced back at Erin with shy smile causing the reporter to grin.

“You have someone, don't you? Someone who can tell you who it is registered to,” Laura guessed. Both Lisa Kozny and Lucy Wuan had tutored Laura in the power of the media and their knack of having off-the-record sources and leaks.

“You know I can't tell you that,” Erin replied.

Laura glanced at Erin knowingly. From her response alone Laura was sure the reporter had a source who had access to the vehicle database. Laura could quite easily count on Selena's help if she wanted to but this was her little mystery to solve. Crying off to Selena for help at the first sign of an impasse was never going to happen, Laura was determined to prove she could do something without her.

“I guess it probably doesn't matter anyway, the car was probably stolen,” Laura ventured as she drew a set of car keys from her pocket.

“Perhaps, but with an owners address we might find out from where,” Erin added.

There was a pause in the conversation as the pair headed towards their cars.

“What should I do now? Do I need to get you back to the office? I still have some things to do on the photo library update,” Laura said.

“Ah, Barnes was going to send me home but you have my car. I took his to get here,” Erin explained.

“Oh, well, you could take yours home now and I'll drive Mr Barnes' car” Laura said innocently.

“Ummm, I think we should both drive back to the office first and then figure out what we do from there,” Erin said, her voice hinting there was something wrong with Laura's suggestion.

“Oh, ok, sure,” Laura said with a frown.

BLIP-BLIP!

Erin clicked the alarm button for Barnes' car and the lights of a sporty looking silver Mercedes flashed a happy welcome.

“Oh!” Laura said, understanding Erin's reluctance to switch cars there and then.

“Yeah, I know right,” Erin said with a chuckle.

“If it's any consolation I drove a Porsche once,” Laura said, though her tone made it sound like an unfortunate event.

“Once,” scoffed Erin.

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

SOME MONTHS BEFORE

Laura's hands gripped the steering wheel of Lucy's Porsche for dear life as she thundered along the disused airstrip tarmac in reverse gear.

“And now a good firm TURN ….” Lucy said with a wide eyed grin.

The Porsche began to spin around eliciting a puff of smoke from the tyres as traction was lost until the car was now facing in the other direction, the J turn almost complete.

“Now CLUTCH, FIRST, and POWER!” Lucy ordered.

Laura's hands became a blur as she straightened up the wheels with the plan to pull away and....

SPLUTTER

Letting off the clutch a little too fast the car crunched into first gear and stalled causing Lucy and Laura to get jolted in their seats before coasting to a stop. The raucous laughter of Selena and Lisa filled the occupants ears, Laura's embarrassed glance at Lucy topping off the moment for everyone.
Lucy glared at her audience causing Lisa to look down at the floor while Selena could only cover her eyes and pretend she had seen nothing. Audience silenced Lucy looked back at her student who bit her bottom lip apologetically.

“What did I tell you? Smooth with the clutch. It's variable, not binary. You don't just drop it like a hot brick. Now again...” Lucy chided.

From the sidelines Lisa watched on as Laura meekly drove back to the start line,“Well, at least she found first this time!” the detective said with a light laugh.

“I am all for broadening Laura's skill set but I hope Lucy realises the bill for a new clutch is coming out of her own dress allowance,” Selena said calmly.

“She will be lucky if that's ALL she has to replace,” Lisa said noting the quantity of black rubber now on the tarmac. If Lisa had mistreated Lucy's car like that she wouldn't be able to walk for a week she wagered.

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =


Laura shot Erin a glance, “Yeah, I didn't get to drive the Porsche for too long,” she said with embarrassment.

“I bet, come on, let's get back to the office,” Erin said in agreement as she approached the Mercedes. Little did Erin know the plucky red head could probably do more with the Mercedes than she realised.

“Sure, see you back there,” Laura nodded patting the camera bag at her side still smiling from the recalled memory.


= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =


Ashley Hill and her partner, officer Lamb were parked on a side street taking on some coffee during a lull in their patrol. Lamb who was in the driver's seat with the window wound down was watching the traffic as it navigated the junction across from them. Even during a little downtime their presence served to keep drivers honest as they waited their turn at the lights.

Ashley, noting Lamb's interest in what was going on beyond their cocooned world decided that now was a good time to conduct a little extracurricular snooping. Ashley turned the dash mounted computer to face her and began to type. Connected to the city and state law enforcement databases Ashley could pull up driver license details, run car registrations amongst a whole host of other things. Right now though she was interested in trying to nail down the identity of the driver of the BMW she had beaten up to rescue that poor woman.


“I wish they'd clean up that sign,” Lamb said flatly, gesturing with his head.

“Which one,” Ashley asked, her voice revealing her focus as she worked on the terminal.

“The 'Right Turn on Red', you see it all the time, cars get there and they can't see it. Then the whole flow gets messed up,” Lamb said, motioning with this hand.

“Put it in the log,” Ashley said, barely looking up as she flicked through the library of mug shots.

“What you doing?” Lamb asked, not even looking back at his partner while he watched the traffic.

“Just keeping current,” Ashley said as she skipped through image after image, her eyes studying every face carefully before moving on.

“Oh?” Lamb said as he turned his head a moment to look down at the terminal.

Ashley continued to cycle slowly through the images of the mugshots maintaining an air of innocence about her work.

“Looking for someone in particular?” Lamb asked.

“I just told you, just keeping current,” Ashley replied, her glance settling on Lamb a moment.

“Current? White males between twenty and thirty-five? Do any of them like romantic walks on the beach?” scoffed Lamb as he looked away again and back at the traffic.

“Whatever,” Ashley retorted at his insinuation as she continued on.

“Just saying, that's all,” Lamb added.


Then the radio beeped before crackling to life, the dispatcher barking out her request.

“That's for us, partner,” nodded Ashley as she grabbed the radio handset to respond, setting her coffee into it's carton holder.

“Yep! We'll take that one,” Lamb said as he fired up the engine of their car , the siren and lights engaging.

WHOOP-WHOOP the siren called out loudly as the car tentatively left the side street, warning the traffic that they were entering the area before the two tone wailing began in earnest.

“Dispatch, 10-4, we are en-route now,” Ashley said as the pair sped off.

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

Neyra, blanket wrapped around her as she sat coiled on the sofa worked with a pencil over a piece of paper. She had been doodling little sketches all over the formerly blank sheet and now it was full of caricatures and places and things and in all sorts of different styles. This was a brain dump, a bored mindless day off but an important way to distract herself from the momentary dark thoughts that passed by her mind. Somehow her previous adventure with Laura, locked up in some hideous experiment had tempered her and what should have been a distressing experience had been made easier.

Suddenly Nerya's ears pricked as she heard the familiar sound of a key turning the front door lock. Neyra sat up and listened and a smile broke out over her face as she heard Laura's familiar groan having returned home from work.

“Neyra, are you home?” Laura called hopefully into the house.

“Hey baby, I'm in the living room,” Neyra called back as she peeled back the blanket.

Laura's feet could be heard walking quickly on the hard wood floor from the hallway and then she appeared. Neyra's eyes lit up and the two quickly fell into a silent embrace.

“I'm so sorry,” Laura said sadly after a pause.

“It's not your fault,” Neyra replied, rubbing Laura's back.

“They took you from right under my nose!” Laura said bitterly.

“They took me from under everyone's noses. The top ranking police were there, the mayor, the city council, all of them. I am sure they are feeling just as powerless as you,” Neyra said in her warm calming voice.

“You know it's not the same. I'm supposed to be better than that,” Laura said as the embrace broke.

“I know it's frustrating but you can't be perfect, even Kara has her bad days I'm sure,” Neyra said. Her hands held Laura's, the pair making a bridge with their arms between them.

Laura looked up into Neyra's all knowing eyes and had to relent. It was true, and she knew it. All her lessons, all those beat downs and hard learned experiences that Lucy had given her were for something. And as for Kara, those first days after Laura had been accepted into her circle the girl of steel had shown the newcomer the place where Kimberly had captured her. Supergirl indeed was not perfect.

“You're right,” Laura nodded reluctantly.

“You're not going to do anything foolish, are you?” Neyra asked. It was phrased as a question but her tone made it an instruction.

Laura glanced away slightly guiltily, unable to look Neyra in the eye.

“Oh Laura, what have you done?” Neyra said as she tugged lightly on Laura's hands, pulling the heroine's eyes back towards hers.

“The man who took you, I know who it was. Well, I know of him,” Laura explained.

“You do? You have to tell the police what you know,” Neyra said, her hand giving Laura's a squeeze.

“You don't understand, it's you-know-who that knows him,” Laura said, her eyes glancing upwards as she implied Spydra's involvement.

And now to Neyra the world of Spydra had taken yet another tentative step onward. The discovery of her powers had come first, then their steady mastery after that. Then the world of Supergirl and her friends was thrust up on the young red head and like a whirlwind she was improved, galvanized then tested. Now Laura and her alter ego had separate worlds, Laura the student and part-time photographer and Spydra, the one who was starting to know the undesirables of their city.

This was going to be a learning experience for Neyra too. Laura was impressionable and Neyra was aware of her influence over her. The black beauty had to separate her feelings as victim, lover and caring mentor and distil from all her thoughts her best advice.

“Who is he and where did you meet him?” Neyra asked, as she gently led Laura to the sofa.

The pair sat down facing each other and Laura began to explain what she knew.

“It was my first night out, the night that Supergirl and I first met,” Laura began.

“I remember that part but I guess in the excitement I've forgotten something else,” nodded Neyra.

“Just before Supergirl showed up I had had a bit of a moment with some wannabes. It was some street gang. Just youths, late teens, early twenty-something's, that sort, getting up to no good. One seemed to be like, you know, the alpha male. It was him,” Laura explained.

“Laura, that doesn't make sense. That doesn't sound like the sort of person who would have been at the event. ” Neyra said, shaking her head.

“I promise you, it was him. All I know is his name is Cruz,” Laura said.

“I guess you want to meet him again, don't you?” Neyra asked knowingly.

“Cruz didn't just go out of his way across town and randomly take you. You were taken for a reason. I want to know why,” Laura said, her confidence rising.

If this Cruz person really was just some thug off the street then Laura must be right, Neyra reasoned. Perhaps the motive was money, a ransom of some kind rather than something more sinister like sex or murder.

“One question. If you knew this man already why didn't you notice him at the event?” Neyra asked.

Laura's eyes widened as she realised she hadn't considered that question before. Surely Laura would have seen Cruz had he been attending the event. Threat or not, fancy clothes or not, Laura would have spotted him as easily as she did in the dash-cam video. But if he wasn't there then …

“Someone else must have drugged you first ready for him to.... oh god the place was full of council members and police not to mention all those business leaders...” Laura's mouth went slack. The thought that someone in higher circles might be involved was disturbing.

“Wait, slow down. I mean, there were lots of hotel staff there too and plus one's, it could be anybody, ” Neyra said, reining in Laura's racing imagination.

Laura blinked as she snapped back to the moment, “Yes, ok, you're right, but I want to speak with Cruz,” Laura said assertively.

“Laura, if you are going to do this then we should wait for nightfall,” Neyra said, looking to the window. The light was dwindling but there was still a while before darkness fell and perhaps a few hours more before the less desirable types descended into the streets.

Laura nodded in acceptance and her heroine mind seemed to switch back off, her meeker side returning.

“Yes, I guess we have to wait. So, are you hungry?” Laura asked, rising to her feet.

“Ravenous!” Neyra replied.

“I could make something,” Laura said enthusiastically though her enthusiasm did not guarantee it would be good, as had been Neyra's experience so far.

“Actually I have a better idea,” Neyra said as she playfully twisted a finger within one of her spiral locks of hair.

“Oh?” Laura replied, her eyes narrowing on Neyra with suspicion. 'A better idea' tended to end up with Laura exhausted and drenched in sweat having been teased mercilessly by Neyra's tongue and an array of toys.

“Not THAT sort of idea ….” Nerya said though her eyes still seemed to suggest something playful.

“Hmmm, ok, now my senses ARE tingling,” Laura said with a grin.

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =




Erin Tate returned to her home, tossing her keys into a bowl by her front door. In her hand was a takeout meal from the Chinese restaurant nearby.

“What a day!” Erin exclaimed to herself as she kicked off her shoes, dropping an inch in height.

Erin walked towards the kitchen and opened a bottle of white wine, decanting a good sized glass before entering the living room. As her mind began to wind down and the need for words, quotes and column inches ebbed away her thoughts turned to the events of the night before. A small amount of anger welled up inside her as she felt like she had been tricked or manipulated somehow in order for Neyra to be whisked away from her brief moment of protection.

Then, her cell phone pinged, announcing the arrival of a message. Plucking up her phone she read the message with tired eyes but managed a weak smile before composing a grateful reply. The message was from one of her sources, someone who could turn the unique identity number of the BMW into a name and address.

“Donald Vance?” Erin said, the name vaguely familiar as she reached to her iPad sat on her coffee table.

Opening up her web browser Erin logged in as a staff member on The Bugle's internal web site and began to use the database.

“Donald Vance” Erin said to herself as she began to search.

NO HITS

Erin blinked. She had been certain that she would get something more out of the search than that.
Erin sipped on a little more wine and reached for a carton and chopsticks from the bag holding her take-out meal. Slowly picking through her food Erin deftly picked up bite sized piece after bite sized piece, savouring every mouthful as she tried to calm her busy mind.

“Vance”

Another mouthful of chicken vanished, a sip of wine chasing down her food.

“Ah now we get some hits,” Erin thought as the results came up on screen. It appeared the tagging system in the database was more fussy than she had realised.


The hits had some photos of a man but it wasn't the driver of the car she caught a glimpse of leaving the hotel car park nor on the dash-cam footage. One photo of this Mr Vance was of him on the court house steps, on trial for something. Another was of Vance but this time with another man called Flynn.

“So, you're better known as DONNY, not Donald,” Erin tutted to herself as she realised the tags on the photos held Mr Vance's colloquial forename. Was this Donny Vance in the photos Donald Vance, owner of the BMW? Erin paused in her efforts unsure why she was chasing this story. The police would figure this stuff out for themselves, wouldn't they? Perhaps her curiosity was driven because she felt more central to the story than normal.

CLICK – CLICK – CLICK
Steadily Erin stepped through the entries relating to Donny Vance, looking for more information.

“Come on, there must be something here,” Erin thought as she continued to eat.


= = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

Ashley Hill had completed her shift and sped away from work, her secret daily voice recording of the men's locker room safely stowed in the bag on her back. Making a detour the red and black leather wearing motorcyclist paused at the construction site of the new civic center, the scene of the mayor's ground breaking ceremony the day before.

The small marquee was gone and already heavy machinery had begun to do the groundwork ready to excavate what would be the under ground parking area. First though the concrete piles that had supported the previous structure would have to be removed and it was those that Ashley was keeping an eye on. Deep under one block of concrete lay her father's remains but not only that, the damming evidence of his betrayal, the badge and ID card of the man who lured him to his death, William Kohl.

“It will be soon” Ashley thought to herself, noting the large machine with the special attachment that was going to smash up the concrete for removal.

Speeding away for home Ashley thought on about her other discovery that day. Working the databases she had gone through a good amount of mugshots and eventually found her man, Jorge Cruz. It had been him at the wheel of the BMW with the kidnapped woman in the back but now she wanted to know his link to 'The Club'. The secret circle existed within the city's police force and it was her snooping on its members that had alerted her to what was eventually revealed to be the kidnapping plot.

Who was the link from 'The Club' to Jorge Cruz and what was the motive behind kidnapping Neyra Thor.... FUCK!

“The construction project. They might be after the body too!” Ashley cursed at herself for not seeing it before. Neyra Thornton and Thornton Construction. “I need to find out who Cruz was working for,” Ashley decided.

Speeding for home Ashley knew that night she would be back out on the streets but on her black bike, anonymous, watching, learning.

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

“I can't believe we are here,” Laura said, her voice betraying her nostalgia. In her tight black jeans and a deep green top the red head looked back to her usual self, no longer required to dress in her work clothes.

Neyra who had opted to wear her favourite tight white jeans and figure hugging long sleeve top smiled as, hand on Laura's shoulder she led her inside the place they had first met.

“Ladies, just the two of you?” asked a young man dressed in black jeans and black shirt.

“Yeah, thanks,” Laura said, looking around herself.

“Ok, this way,” the server said, tray under his arm.

Leading Laura and Neyra past the bar the young man guided them to two two seater sofa's facing each other at a low table.

“Can I get you something to drink?” asked the young man as the two young women took their seats.

“Ummm, can I have a cola,” Laura said.

“Can I have a 7up and a beer,” Neyra added.

“Sure, our menus are just there and our specials are on the board at the bar. I'll be back in a moment,” the young server said as he headed away.

“Cola? Stocking up?” Neyra asked. Laura as Spydra would burn up a lot of calories as she spun webs and climbed walls. Loading up on sugary drinks was a sign she was planning to be active soon.

“Uh huh,” Laura nodded. Laura noticed Neyra give a nod to someone at the bar who waved back happily, surprised to see her there.

“A friend?” Laura asked as her head motioned at the bar.

“Yes, we got on well when I used to work here, he's a good guy,” Neyra said, her attention falling back on Laura.

“So... why are we here?” Laura asked, her eyes glancing about her surroundings, the palm of her hand gently tapping to the good music.

“I don't want to say just yet,” Neyra said coyly.

“Hmmmm, okay. You've not got some horrible surprise thing planned, have you?” Laura asked, her suspicious eyes scanning around.

“As if I could surprise you with anything,” Neyra replied with slight sarcasm. Laura's ability to sense things about to happen to her made it tricky to do anything in secret.

The pair went quiet as the drinks arrived and then the young man retreated.

“I don't know, you have had your moments,” Laura's eyebrows rose. During her training with Supergirl's friends she had on occasion fallen foul of their surprises.

“No, this isn't like that,” Neyra answered.

“Are you okay with me going out tonight,” Laura asked, the cola passing her lips reminding her of what was to come.

Neyra's eyes conveyed her reply. It would be a lie if she didn't worry a little when her little spider went out to play but she had confidence in her.

“Just carry a little of Lucy with you,” Neyra added.

“I hear her in my head all the time but I think it's Lisa I need most today,” Laura replied as she sipped her drink, her eyes spying one of the closed menu.

“What will you do if you find him,” Neyra asked.

“Right now I just want to break his nose,” Laura said, her words drawing a disapproving look from Neyra.

“Laura, I'm fine. I don't even remember anything about it,” Neyra said. Secretly it did bother her what might have happened but other than that she had no specific memory that served as a trigger for an emotional response.

“I'm sorry, its just so ….. I don't know what. You know I'm going to do this for you but it was like I was being played too. That they could do that and just whisk you away while your dad and I were happily talking with …...” Laura paused as she recalled the moment.

Neyra noted Laura's pause as she seemed to recall something important.

“What?” Neyra asked.

“No, nothing. Come on then, let's eat, I need to fuel up,” Laura said, her mood lightening again.

“Good, never thought you'd ask,” Neyra replied.

Laura flipped open a menu and her eyes settled on the different sections. There were the plates to share, the hamburgers and salads, the sides and the desserts and whole load of deals and combos to choose from.

Up at the bar the bartender had been given an order of drinks to fill and had loaded up a tray to take to a table. Having finished the order the barman needed to get the attention of a server to deliver them and so …

PING!

Striking the bell on the bar the barman turned away and totalled up the bill to add to the table's tab. The striking of the bell caused Neyra to look over her shoulder, the familiar sound having once upon a time been the rhythm of her day when she used to work there. With a grin she turned back to face Laura to explain.

“Sorry, old habits,” Neyra said before noticing Laura's vacant expression.

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

Laura drew a notepad and pencil from a box behind the bar and slid them into her pocket and saw Joel the barman strike the bell.

PING

A server was returning with a tray and slid it onto the bar with a freshly scrawled order on top then took the drinks laden tray away to its destination. Joel plucked up and read the new order before setting up fresh glasses beneath the taps ready to fill.

“Hey Neyra,” a blond haired woman said as she ducked in behind the bar.

“Hey, how has it been?” Laura asked with a smile. She was looking forward to her shift.

“Steady. Tips have been good though,” the blond replied as she patted her pockets then produced her notepad and pencil which she tossed into the box behind the bar, her shift over.

“So, what have I got?” Laura asked.

“Table 2 to 7. Umm, 2,4 and 6 are on desserts and winding down. 3 is doing a three course special, they have just had their mains so you won't need to deal with them a while, 5 has just had their starters and 7 is just cruising on platters to share, it's some birthday thing. They probably need a drinks top-up actually ….” the blond explained.

“Birthday? Who's?” Laura said, glancing towards the table.

“Umm, the red head, you won't miss her, she's with another set of couples” the blond replied.

“OK, cool, I'll get going,” Laura said as she absorbed the information.

“Thanks, have a good shift,” the blond said as she patted Joel on the shoulder to say goodbye.

“Sure, have a nice evening,” Laura said as Joel winked happily at the leaving waitress.

Laura ducked back under the bar to the other side and headed towards table seven. As she closed in she could see two young men and a red-head talking sat on the sofa and …..

“Oh it's me! But …. oh cute freckles ….. hmmmm …. she'd look good on canvas …..naked …..” Laura's mind seemed to fill with a train of thought that was alien to her, like she was on someone else's path.

“Hi, I'm Neyra, Ill be your server for the remainder of the evening, is everything ok here, can I get you anything ?” Laura asked to her birthday girl self, breaking out of her lustful train of thought just a moment.

“Want Want Want – if even just to see what she's like under there,” Laura thought as she looked at herself finishing off a cola.

= = = = = = = = = = = = =

“LAURA?” Neyra asked, a soft smile on her face, her radiant deep dark eyes knowingly reading Laura's face. The red head was lost in a thought and was unresponsive.

Laura blinked as she returned to the moment.

“McGee,” Laura said as she glanced back at Neyra, a look of surprise on her face.

It seemed like yesterday that Lisa and Selena had set Laura up for her test to see if she was ready to strike out on her own as Spydra. Having passed that test she and Neyra had been introduced to the gifted memory manipulator, McGee, Supergirl's final team secret. It was during their introduction to McGee that he had demonstrated his powers, his final gift leaving the two young women a transplanted memory for them to find in their own time.

“You saw it, didn't you,” Neyra said, biting her bottom lip.

Neyra also knew that secret first thoughts had been transplanted between the two, the magical moment when the two had first met. It was the moment that had for some reason activated Laura's powers, the result of her mother being 'Once Bitten'.

“That was ….” Laura began, unable to find the words to describe the foreign memory in her head.

“I know, it was the same for me too,” Neyra confessed.

“You've seen it?” Laura asked surprised that Neyra had kept it secret.

“Today, at home. Once I knew what it was about I guessed bringing you here might help trigger your memory too. I didn't want to ruin it by telling you what or when it was,” Neyra smiled.

“When he showed he could read my mind, I believed it. But when they said he could do the other thing I didn't really think it would feel this real!” Laura gushed.

“Was it …... nice …... okay?” Neyra asked slightly hesitantly. She herself was oddly aroused hearing Laura's inner voice during their special moment and hoped what Laura had been given was good for her too.

Laura blushed at the question as she bit her bottom lip, a shy but enthusiastic nod confirming what Neyra hoped.

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =



Rory Barnes wrapped his arms around his wife's waist from behind, his hands resting on stomach and pecked a kiss on her cheek. The pair were stood in the kitchen at a counter top as she sliced ingredients while some meat sizzled in a pan.

“Hmmm, looks great, Fran!” Barnes said.

“So easy to please,” Fran replied with a light laugh.

CHAK-CHAK-CHAK – sounded the knife as it struck the chopping board having passed through the broccoli.

“And how was your day, Principle Barnes,” Barnes asked of his wife.

“It's science-fare season, how do you think it went?” Fran replied with a smile.

“Potato clocks?” Barnes replied, releasing Fran from his embrace as he stirred the meat.

“Oh I wish! This year is the year of the drones,” Fran scoffed as she scooped the cut broccoli up and put into her steamer.

“I can't wait to see what they come up with,” Barnes said as he gave the meat an aggressive shake in the pan.

“And your day?” Fran asked, glancing back at her husband.

“Tricky – what gets more inches; community leaders pull together at benefit event, OR, date rape attack at benefit event,” Barnes groaned.

“What? You're kidding!” Fran said, distracted from her dicing.

“I'm not,” Barnes said gruffly as he let the meat settle.

“Oh god, is whoever it was ok?” Fran asked, her chopping resuming but at much slower rate as she glanced to her husband with concern.

“Luckily someone saved the day before anything happened but the victim spent the night in hospital for observation. Whoever the guy was who tried to take her got away though,” Barnes replied.

“If you're not safe at an event like that then you're not safe anywhere,” Fran said with disgust.

“Hmmmmm,” Rory sounded thoughtful as what Fran said sunk in. It was uncomfortable thinking that perhaps one of the guests at such an event would try such a thing.

“Is there anything else I can do here,” her husband asked noting everything seemed under control.

“Nope, I'm good. Go sit down, this won't be long,” Fran answered, pecking a kiss on Rory's cheek.

Rory rubbed Fran on the shoulder with his hand which trailed down her back giving her a friendly tweak on her behind. A silent glance between the two confirmed their love and he turned away towards the living room.

Taking a seat on the sofa Barnes could hear Fran working on the meal that was soon to come. Reaching to a tablet that sat on a small table by the end of the sofa Barnes plucked it up and turned it on.

“News never sleeps,” he said to himself as he pressed the bookmark for The Bugle's online web page.

Though he was the editor for the physical paper version of the newspaper he had a deputy who maintained their online presence. The advantage of the digital version though was the ability to show off many more photographs and include video.

Barnes flipped through the site casually, killing time until the meal was ready. Passing by the recent videos Barnes noted the comments about Neyra's rescue from the BMW. Many praised the rescuer, some were derogative of the victim and a few had things to say about the abductor.

Continuing on Barnes frowned as he looked at the next video, the police shooting over in Brookside. He had seen it of course but the comment count seemed unusually quite high.

“Food's ready!” called Fran from the kitchen as the sound of cutlery jangled.

“Be there now,” Barnes called back glancing towards the kitchen then back at the tablet.

Sweeping quickly over the messages he didn't see anything that stood out but evidently a lot of people had something to say on the matter. With a sigh Barnes placed the tablet down and rose to his feet, stretching his back as he rose.

“Hmmm, smells great!”

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

Having gone out, eaten and returned home the duo of Laura and Neyra had gone back out into the city, this time the young red head being ready to become Spydra.

Parking near Neyra's old haunt, her old secret tagging ground the pair entered the fenced off derelict site via the padlocked gate. Neyra used to secretly practice her art of graffiti here when she was younger. The site, owned by her father's company had yet to find a new purpose and sat idle in decay, though loved by Neyra in her own unique way. The interior walls were adorned with Neyra's secret art and it was here that she and Laura had first begun to unlock Spydra's abilities together.

Laura was dressed in a loose fittting tracksuit over her Spydra suit and slowly began to peel off her layers knowing she was out of sight of anyone nearby. Neyra held Spydra's tracksuit as the heroine undressed and before the black beauty knew it Spydra stood before her, only her mask left to go.

“Three hours,” Neyra reminded Laura again.

“2am, I'll be back, I promise,” nodded Laura in agreement as she pressed an earbud to her ear.

“There is no pressure to find him tonight, you know who he is,” Neyra pressed, her slight anxiety for Laura to not do anything foolish just evident.

“Neyra, relax, I'm not rushing,” Laura replied, her tone reassuring.

“OK, comms check,” Neyra said trying to change the subject.

“One, Two, Three, A, B, C,” Laura said calmly, her mind focusing back onto the work at hand.

“OK, good,” Neyra nodded as she handed Laura her mask.

“You know where I am going so you can stay in comms range and there's that coffee place you mentioned,” Laura said as she held her mask in her hand.

Neyra's hands rested on Laura's shoulders, their eyes meeting. “Ok, meet you back here when you are done. Let me know what is going on,”

There was an accepting nod and rising to tip toe Laura reached for one more kiss.

“Okay, go, before I stop you,” Neyra said, gently pushing Laura away.

Laura pulled her shelled mask over her head completing her outfit. Black and silver, the suit betrayed the form of the fit young woman beneath and with the large mesh lensed eyes of her mask gave her slightly insectoid appearance. On her belt were the usual ring of energy boosting drinks, the ones that would help replenish the calories she would burn generating her webs and her clinging ability.

“See you soon,” Sydra said confidently and with an outstretched arm fired a web and was away into the darkness.

“Stay safe little spider ...” Neyra whispered to herself. It wasn't easy watching the one she cared about head off into the darkness not knowing what trouble she might be heading into. But then again, perhaps it was the darkness and what lurked within that was in trouble. Neyra felt a little comfort from realising that so far only the bad guys had anything to fear from Laura's nocturnal adventures.

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =


Wickes emerged from the corner store a bottle in a brown bag clutched in his hand. In his faded jeans and black leather jacket he was representative of the sort that hung out in the neighbourhood at night. Crossing the street Wickes passed between two buildings and ended up facing a chain linked fence. Peeling the fence back where it had been cut from one of the posts Wickes ducked through the gap.

The diesel motor of a locomotive rumbled slowly by with a low rhythmic growl, steel wheels clattering on the welded joints of the rails down in the cutting below. Wickes walked along the maintenance track and could hear music echoing from under a foot bridge ahead. This was his hang-out, the place where he felt comfortable and safe.

“Hey it's Wickes!” echoed the call from under the bridge.

Wickes grinned as he heard his name and as the track opened up he could see the youths who also shared his haunt. A few mid to late teens were gathered around a portable stereo listening to music while another worked his craft with a spray can putting his tag onto a circular concrete pillar supporting the bridge above. Another youth on a bike was performing little stunts on a makeshift wooden plank ramp and balancing beam rigged over some old steel barrels.

“OK, who wants some?” Wickes asked as he peeled off the brown bag from the large bottle of Vodka.

“Glasses!” was the cry from one of the youths by the stereo as the group peeled away.

Sat on a tray resting on an old red beer crate was an assortment of shot glasses. Washed using a tap the railway maintenance crews used to clean their gear the glasses glinted under the orange lights of the nearby street lighting.

Wickes grinned as his little posse began laughing and chatting as they grabbed their glasses and crowded around him.

“So what you guys been doin'?” Wickes asked as one by one the glasses were presented to him to fill.

“Helping my uncle man, was fucking lame,” one youth replied, his glass held out eagerly.

“Doin' what?” Wickes asked.

“Painting his yard fence,” complained the youth.

“Better than jacking sound systems from cars,” Wickes responded.

“Ain't no money in paintin' but I'm sure as hell done with stereos,” the youth retorted.

“Good! You know you're not gonna be looking at juvey forever right. You gotta sort your shit out now while you still can,” Wickes scoffed.

“Yeah you're not gonna end up like Wickes right?” another youth laughed as he took a shot of Vodka.

There was a cry of “Burn!” as Wicke's posse laughed at the youth's comment.

“Fuckin' right, you won't” Wickes laughed in agreement as he looked at his shot glass with a shake of the head before downing the contents.

“And wot you been up to?” another youth asked, picking at a carton holding some french fries that were steaming in the cool air.

“None of yours” Wickes said with a scowl, his mood momentarily hardening.

“Chill man,” one youth said as he drank his shot.

“Hey just asking, man,” replied the one who had been shot down.

“Whatever. Someone set up the cans. Who wants a shot at winning some money,” Wickes said, breaking out of his shell again.

“Not me, man, you burned me last time,” joked one youth, palms up in objection.

“Yeah but you got wasted for free,” joked Wickes.

“Fuck yeah, my head was sore the next day, mom was like, 'you doin' drugs, son?' the next morning,” the youth replied.

“OK, how about for smokes anybody, one for one?” Wickes said, a clap of his hand trying to get some attention.

“Sure, set of ten?” laughed a willing opponent.

“OK then, set 'em up then, hotshot!” Wickes said with a sharp clap of the hands.

Some laughter broke out as well as a little light jeering as the group slowly moved towards a patch of gravel. At one end was an old wooden railway sleeper and a youth busily set up a row of old beer cans on top of it. The game, throwing the large stoney railway ballast at the cans from a line was a regular source of cheap entertainment and of course a means to win or lose whatever was of value.

Above them hiding in the shadows of the bridge Spydra watched the events unfolding below. She could see Wickes but there was no sign of Cruz. Time was moving on and having prowled in an ever widening circle from where she had first set eyes on the unruly pair this was her only lead. Her senses were calm, the youths below posing little threat. Spydra took a breath, this was going to be her first proper self introduction to the city's population.

The spectating youths placed an old orange road cone at some arbitrary distance from the railway sleeper which was adorned with ten old beer cans lined up in a row on top. Wickes and his opponent gathered up some handy sized rail ballast, weighing the grey stones in their experienced hands.


Inside Spydra's head an imaginary battle played out, the duelling points of view from her mentors Lucy and Lisa arguing their case.

“You are entering a crowd to pick out one man. You can scare a few off just by arriving. Subdue the ones who stand their ground with webs then interrogate your target there and then. He will be intimidated by you,” Lucy's voice said.

“Laura, they're just a mix of kids and young adults killing time. Sure they look a little rough but if you go in heavy handed from the off you can't go back. If they give you problems THEN you can kick butts, I know you can handle it,” Lisa's voice reasoned.

“Sorry Lu but I think Lisa is right. No shock and awe, it's time for hearts and minds,” Spydra thought to herself as she looked down at the crowd forming, ready for the test of marksmanship to begin.

With her hand planted to the concrete of the bridge Spydra fired a web from her wrist. Releasing her clinging feet from the wall she hung from her web and slowly let it play out, descending silently downwards towards the ground.

The youths were stood in a semicircle around Wickes and his opponent while the laughter and pre-game mocking and joking got underway. Behind them unseen Spydra gently touched down, one arm overhead with her web taught. With a flick of the wrist she let the web disconnect and then she was free to make her presence known.

“Hey WICKES!” Spydra said confidently.

“Holy fuck!”

“Shit! Who the fuck are you!”

“Wooah!”

The youths had spun around to be confronted by the sight of Spydra, her black and silver grey catsuit glinting in the orange light of the city street lamps.

“How did you …..”

“Where did you come from!”

“Who are you?”

The questions kept coming as the small crowd of youths parted revealing Wickes at the back.

“YOU!” Wickes said nervously.

“Where is CRUZ?” Spydra said.

“What? Cruz?” Wickes answered in surprise.

“I want to talk to him!” demanded the masked heroine.

The youths peered at Laura like she was an alien, unsure what to make of her.

“You know this bitch, Wickes?”

“Who is she?”

One of the youths pulled out his cell phone and held it up ready to get a video or a photo but he had barely raised it in his hand when …

PHUT!

A quick fired web grabbed the phone and with a deft tug it was pulled into Spydra's hand.

“Woooah, what the fuck!”

“No waaaaay!”

“Shit man, that's fucked up!”

“How she do that?!”

“No photo's, I'm shy,” Spydra said calmly as she advanced towards Wickes.

“Hey, my phone, man!”

“Hey hey hey, everyone stay cool ….” Wickes said, retreating a little.

“You remember me, don't you Wickes?” Spydra said as she neared him. She had no doubt he had kept the memory of his strange encounter with Spydra the first time.

“I told you it was an accident, I didn't mean to cut you,” Wickes said, raising a calming hand at the heroine.

“I want to know where Cruz is,” demanded Spydra again as she took another step closer.

Wickes backed up nervously as he glanced over his shoulder looking for escape. He had no idea what this 'thing' in front of him was going to do but his memories of her told him to expect the unexpected.

“DON'T RUN” ordered Spydra as she got closer.

Inside Wickes' head he was running yet his legs were frozen. Either side of Spydra youths sized her up, their eyes taking in her fit body while also in awe of her web ability. One youth thumbed the outline of his pocket knife through his jeans, reassuring himself it was there.

“If you want to keep your knife leave it in your pocket, just like Wickes should have done,” Spydra said, pointing with the hand that also held the confiscated phone.

The youth's hand recoiled, surprised by the young woman's keen senses. Did she have eyes in the back of her head?

Spydra walked up to Wickes unhindered stopping a few feet from the man who she had encountered all that time before. Back then she barely knew her own power and her suit was a pale imitation of what she wore now.

“I remember you, Wickes, and I remember your friend, Cruz. Don't pretend you have forgotten!You said he would fuck me up,” Spydra said confidently.

“And he would have, too. And these boys ain't gonna just take shit laying down either,” Wickes said with feigned bravado, his glances beyond Spydra appealing to his friends.

“If you think that a few little knives and the rocks in your buddy's hands are going to scare me...” Spydra began to say then with barely a glance at her targets fired. With a deft flick of her free hand she unleashed a scatter shot of small web balls no bigger than tiny beads at the ten cans lined up on the railway sleeper.

TINKLETANKLECLANGLE

“... then think again!” Spydra said dramatically.

The cans scattered, some spinning off, others rolling away from the almost shotgun like blast of web pellets.

“Holy shit!”

“Man did you see that!”

“No way, she took them all down!”

“One shot!”

“Wooooah!”

Spydra was starting to win over the youths, their admiration for the masked stranger starting to overcome their fear and belligerence towards her. The heroine could sense the change of attitude in the atmosphere, only Wickes was left to convince.

“Whatever, Cruz don't run with us no more,” Wickes said, hands falling to his waist.

“More like we don't run with him,” another youth said safely from within the pack.

Spydra didn't need any special powers to sense there was a story behind this breakup and wanted to know more.

“What happened? What changed?” insisted Spydra as she looked around the group, their reflections glinting in her mesh lensed eyes.

“Cruz, he got involved with drugs. He was into selling the shit,” Wickes said bitterly.

“Drugs? So how do I find him, you must know something,” Spydra asked again.

“Fine, there was a guy, Flynn, some shit like that. Out of the blue Cruz introduces this guy and later he starts using Cruz to sell his shit, tries to get us in on it too,” Wickes explained.

“Yeah, screw that shit, man. We left them to it,” piped up another youth.

“He's right, we didn't hang with them any more. So yeah, if you can't find Cruz look up that Flynn guy, but do us a favour, don't tell him we said anything,” Wickes said like the subject left a bad taste.

“I will check him out, thanks,” Spydra said before she spun around.

Offering out the phone she planted it into the hand of the young man she had deprived of it and began to walk away. Suddenly Wickes sensed that the young mysterious woman was just going leave again possibly never to be seen again and he had a message he wanted to pass on.

“Hey, Webs. If it means anything, I listened to what you said,” Wickes called out to the heroine.

“The name's Spydra and after this I can tell,” Spydra said as she extended an arm out skywards.

PHUT!

Spydra fired a web and with little effort drew herself up, retracting her body up the line towards the shadowy underside of the bridge above.

“Fuck how did she do that?”

“Is she like Supergirl or something?”

The youths were left in awe as Spydra shot up out of sight into the shadows from where she came.

“That was whack, man!”

“Wickes, how does she know you?”

“Yeah, she knew your name. How come you never mentioned her before?”

“That was cool, hope she comes back,”

“It was once, right, and it was barely for a minute,” Wickes said as he looked skyward trying to get another glimpse of Spydra.

From above in the darkness Spydra watched and listened as Wickes told the tale of their first fleeting encounter. He left out the part about her urging him to get new friends but that was what he had meant about listening to her. It was that near miss, the consequences of drawing the knife and cutting her that made him start to wake up to the life he was entering into. On the one hand Spydra was glad it had made a difference to Wickes' life but was ruing the fact that none of his group were sending any warning to Cruz. It seemed their bridge to Cruz had truly been burned. But on the good side Spydra hadn't burned her bridges with them. She had gone in, talked and then left. Lisa, her more angelic advisor sat on her shoulder had been right this time and the payoff seemed to be that she had earned a little respect and maybe made some friends.

Now Spydra's thoughts turned to Flynn, but with the clock running onwards he was a lead that would have to wait another night.

“Hey, Enchantress, are you there?” joked Spydra into her comms.

“Hey, everything ok?” Neyra replied.

“Sure, I'm on my way back, see you there!” Spydra answered.

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

Ashley Hill parked her bike in the vicinity of the park where the BMW had been recovered. Picking up fragments of information from within the department she had learned that it had been stolen then dumped there once the abduction had failed.

Dismounting from her steed the black leather clad woman, helmet stowed, entered the low lit skate park. Covering her head was a soft black cotton balaclava, only her eyes and mouth were visible. The park was alive with chatter as the parkouring youths and their skateboarding brethren sat at the rim of a concrete bowl while one of their number performed stunts on a bike below.

“Hey,” Ashley began, getting their attention.

“Who are you?” said a young youth, rising to his feet.

“What do you know about a BMW that was dumped over here last night,” Ashley began abruptly, closing the distance to the group.

“Ain't nothin' to do with us,” one of the group said.

“I didn't say it was. I know you guys, you would have been here. What happened to the guy who drove it,” Ashley demanded. She knew of the group from previous encounters only then she had been in uniform.

“The guy, in the suit? He walked, bitch,” a youth unwisely said.

“Who's the bitch?” Ashley barked, her head turning to the voice who had just spoken.

“Woooah baby, he didn't mean it,” said another, trying to defuse the moment.

“WHO is the BITCH?” Ashley demanded as she closed on the youth who had triggered her ire.

“Hey hey hey, chill, I'm sorrryaaaaaaaaaah” the youth found his thumb in a painful lock as Ashley took control of his hand.

“The guy, where did he go?” Ashley pressed, turning on the pressure.

“Hey, let him go!”

“Get off of him,”

“Aaaaaaaah,” winced the youth as the painful lock threatened to break one of his digits.

Ashley drew her baton from her boot and with a deft flick extended it out discouraging the encircling youths to come any closer.

“Shit, it's her, from the news!” one of the youths exclaimed.

“WHERE DID HE GO!” Ashley pressed.

“OWW OWW OWW, I heard him make a call when he was walking …..” whimpered the youth.

“Go on ….” Ashley said as she pointed threateningly at the youths with her baton.

“Aaaahhh Don..Donny I think. He told him the car was here and he was going to some place ..” the youth struggled to speak.

“WHERE!” Ashley demanded.

“I couldn't make it out,” he continued, rising on tip toe to help alleviate the pressure on his thumb.

“TRY” Ashley growled.

“He said he doesn't know!” another youth said, hands palm forward defensively as the baton was waved in his direction.

“It was like Flintshop or something … that's all I got, I swear,” the youth pleaded.

“Flintshop?” Ashley replied angrily.

“Owww oww yes yes !”

Ashley released the youth giving him a shove away provoking him to come back at her. Only his wiser friends prevented him from getting hurt, the black clad vigilante, raising her baton back ready to strike.

“You got what you want, leave us alone,”

Ashley used her baton like a sword, pointing it at the youths around her who were wise to stay back. After a cautious few backwards steps Ashley spun around and walked away into the darkness and towards her bike.

“Flintshop” Ashley thought to herself. It must mean something but she would have to do some more digging to find out. The night was pushing on and there was not much more she was going to be able to do now.

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =


Genetically Laura may have been fractionally closer to a spider than Neyra was, the true nature of her fusion with her arachnid abilities were a mystery, but it was the tall black beauty who mimicked the spider more in bed.

Neyra was on her back, Laura on her back on top of her. Laura's arms were above herself, restrained in place by one of Neyra's arms, the cute red heads legs held splayed apart by Neyra's feet. Neyra's teeth delicately tugged at Laura's ear while her free arm roved over Laura's arched stomach without mercy.

“Gotcha now!” Neyra giggled as her free hand began to nip and pinch Laura's sides making her a powerless giggling wreck.

Writhing, twisting and flexing Laura was defenceless in Neyra's embrace. Having returned to their rendezvous point Neyra had playfully denied Laura a top up of energy boosting liquid which now was paying dividends in their moment of play. Laura's strength was impaired and as Neyra sensed her physical dominance was taking hold she …

“Oh ...” Laura flinched as Neyra's fingers tested Laura's soft vulnerable flesh between her legs.

“Hmmm, there we go,” Neyra said thoughtfully.

Like prey in the grip of its hunter Laura seemed to play possum. Laura relaxed as the tension from all the tickling subsided and Neyra's fingers worked their magic unseen beneath the duvet. Working a circular motion Neyra could sense Laura softening in the darkness, her flesh ready to accept whatever Neyra desired.

Neyra had control and using her warm embrace slowly rolled the pair, first onto their sides then onto Laura's stomach, Neyra above and behind her victim. Neyra managed to extricate her hand from between Laura's legs and searched beneath the pillow for the strapless dildo.

Laura's dulled senses sensed the toy's presence the moment Neyra sought to find it.

“Oh..” groaned Laura in pleasure as her ears heard Nerya draw her hand back from under the pillow to her side.

Neyra pushed her body up and away from Laura's a moment, cooler air invading the space between them. Neyras lips engulfed the shorter part of the toy, the part that she would place inside herself, allowing her to get full pleasure from riding the red head beneath her.

Neyra moaned as she carefully slid one end of the toy inside of herself, holding the smooth weapon that she was about to drill Laura's brains out with. Reaching under Laura's limp body Neyra tugged Laura upwards, encouraging her to her hands and knees.

Laura's eyes clenched in pleasure as Neyra gently manipulated her, the dildo brushing up one of her thighs before Neyra skillfully guided the tip into her.

“Nghhh” Laura groaned as the first stroke drove home.

Neyra leaned forward and enveloped Laura's torso, the red head slowly splaying her arms, lowering them both back to the bed. Neyra began to rhythmically drive her hips back and forth while her teeth sunk into Laura's neck, the pleasurable yet painful mix flooding the heroine's mind. Not getting a full night's sleep seemed like a fair price for this!

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

[Abductorenmadrid]

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

WEDNESDAY

It was early and Erin was attending the morning assignment briefing with Rory Barnes and the other members of staff. Stood at the conference table notepads in hands the various team members took notes as one by one they discussed their assignments.

“... and finally Erin. You have the city council meeting and the Casino application. Take Laura with you,” Barnes said as he tapped a bullet point on his whiteboard.

“Yes, boss,” Erin nodded, glancing out the glass walls of the conference room towards Laura who waited at her desk.

“Any other business?” asked Barnes into the group.

“Just a note really, there seems to be some traction growing on a story from the online edition. That video from the police shooting the other day, you might want to consider some follow up,” John their social media man said. By monitoring social media like their Facebook presence and Twitter as well as feedback from readers on their website he could aid Barnes in directing his journalists towards stories.

“Yes, good call, I saw something was up with that last night. Erin, that was your story, wasn't it?” Barnes asked with a frown generating glances turning towards the reporter.

“Yes. I did try to sneak a copy of the ME's report but it was denied and they won't comment on an ongoing shooting investigation. Laura had asked me to check it out after watching the video a few times. What have people been saying, John?” Erin asked, recalling Laura's troubled comment on a post-it note left at her desk.

“It's just the pattern of shooting really. People are struggling to figure out how the shooting played out from the audio recording without it being a little suspicious,” John explained.

“Well, police HQ isn't far from the city council offices and the Casino hearing is only scheduled for the morning. Once it is over see if you can get a comment or obtain more information. In the meantime I will see if I can get a consultant in for an analysis of that video,” Barnes said.

“Sure boss. I was going to see them about progress on the kidnapping case anyway so I have an excuse to be there,” nodded Erin.

“Good. Okay, let's get to work!” Barnes said.

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

Neyra was at her desk at her father's offices sorting through her post that had arrived that morning. Amongst the various letters that she had to deal with was a package sent to her by the local baseball team. Neyra had expressed an interest in doing some caricature portraits of their team members to sell or auction off to raise some funds as part of the benefit event a few nights before. The team owner seemed to think that having the signature of the local artist responsible for the famous “Hockey Girl” picture might add a little more value to the effort.

Neyra thumbed through the photos, her mind picturing how to exaggerate the players features while not losing their identity. Some had distinctive looks and she was sure she could create a good set of pictures from what she had in front of her.

BLEEEPBLEEEP

Neyra's intercom sounded dragging her back to the moment and so she pressed the button to speak.

“Hello, yes?” Neyra asked.

“Hi Neyra, there is a lady here in reception. She says she would like to speak with you. She says it is a personal matter,” said the voice at the other end of the line.

Neyra glanced at her watch, she had an hour before her first appointment.

“OK, I will be there now,” Neyra said with a frown.

Rising from her desk Neyra left her office and went past the various offices until she reached reception. The receptionist looked apologetically to Neyra and indicated with her head to the small plush waiting area. A blond was sat with her back to the reception desk, only her hair lying over her deep red leather jacket giving Neyra a clue to her identity.

“Kara!” Neyra exclaimed before her hand rose to her mouth, containing her voice.

Kara turned her head and caught site of Neyra and rose to greet her.

“Kara, what brings you here?” Neyra said as she offered her hand to the disguised girl of steel.

The receptionist glanced between the two women and could tell that everything was okay and resumed her tasks at her desk, her duty done.

“I need to talk to you, are you free?” Kara said, her tone a little serious as she shook Neyra's hand. Neyra glanced at a large envelope that was in Kara's other hand and suspected its contents was the motive of her visit.

“Sure, Kara, please, come with me,” Neyra said before looking to the young woman at reception. “Could you field my calls for me? My friend and I need a moment,”

“Sure, of course,” the receptionist replied.

“Thanks,” Neyra responded then with a gesture with her arm led Kara away.

Entering her office Neyra pushed the door firmly closed behind herself and her guest, her heart thumping a little harder than normal being in Kara's company.

“Something is wrong, isn't it?” Neyra said, her face revealing her concern.

Kara should have known better than to think the perceptive Neyra could not tell something was amiss.

“It's about this. It's complicated,” Kara said as she tapped the envelope in her hand.

“Kara, whatever it is I am sure we can work it out. I guess my first question is though, why me? Are the others not able to help you?” Neyra asked. She could see from Kara's expression though that they were questions she was not looking forward to answering.

“Oh Neyra, I am running out of people to turn to and ...” Kara said anxiously.

“Hey, what is it? What's wrong?” Neyra asked gently. She was seeing a what appeared to be a vulnerable side to the heroine that she never new she had. Neyra was doubtful this was something many people had not seen.

“Do you remember what we told you about Vel?” Kara asked.

“Sure. Well, you said there were two parts to him. The man himself and some kind of possession, a monster. His mind had been inside those Sanderson people until you pushed it back into those crystals,” Neyra said.

“He's back, Neyra. Him, or the monster, or both,” Kara said frankly.

“More infected people? It's just as you feared. Do you know who it is that has been taken over?” Neyra asked as she flopped into her seat at the dramatic news.

“Not yet, but they are out there and could be anybody. The government is worried, Neyra. They asked Supergirl for help. That's what THIS is about,” Kara said, sliding the envelope towards Neyra.

Neyra noted the presidential seal and dreaded what might be inside. Kara had said she was running out of people to turn to and that meant only one thing. The contents of the envelope had already been seen, read and rejected by more obvious friends at the head of the line.

“Selena and the others have seen this, haven't they,” Neyra said knowingly.

Kara nodded silently knowing that Neyra had figured her out, she was the less than ideal candidate.

Neyra dug deep. Her initiation into Supergirl's world of friends had been difficult to say the least but even in the darkest moments she had clung on, trusting her own judgement through to the end and eventually having her faith vindicated. Now was another moment, she could tell, but this time she felt she was in control of the situation. She was going to be entering something based on her own judgement, not be a passenger on someone else's ride.

“I want to know everything,” Neyra said decisively.

Kara looked at the envelope then at Neyra. The heroine had thought this through carefully during a brief meditation far from everyone. She was sure Neyra was the right person for this task and so with a nod began to explain.

“The government suspects that I may have people who help me who may not want to be exposed to scrutiny. The government has created a system to help maintain my friends anonymity but I need someone to run it for me. I cannot be a government agent, I have to stay impartial,” Kara explained.

“Help your friends? How?” Neyra asked as she peeled open the envelope, tugging up one of the first pages.

“They can just instantly change a persons identity so they can do whatever it is they need to do to. Once whatever crisis is over they can go back to who they were. The system is meant to be blind in order to protect parties either side,” Kara said.

“OK, but the others, they've said 'no' for a reason, right?” Neyra asked, not sure why this required her involvement.

“They don't trust it. Selena is worried the moment she puts herself into the system they will look to see who is inside. Even McGee is worried that he will become uncovered,” Kara said.

Neyra's hand retreated from the envelope like it was poison. Neyra was not a big fan of Selena but she respected her craft and although her meeting with McGee was brief she knew he was a federal agent. Who better to know the government's conduct than him?

“Neyra, please, I know you can do this. Even if you just sit on it and do nothing. I want to be able to go back to the president and tell her that something is in place. Please?” Kara pleaded.

Neyra glanced down at the envelope then back at Kara and weighed up her options. Saying no was absolute. But offering to read more, to learn and explore the idea, would be enough to give Kara hope. Even if it was just temporary it would surely be the better option than just saying 'no'.

“Kara, okay but please promise me you will explore other candidates when this all dies down,” Neyra said, drawing the envelope back towards herself.

“OK, I will. I just needed a safe pair of hands to take care of this and you were my best hope. I thought it would be simple to have Selena do it but ….” Kara seemed to look upset as she paused mid sentence.

“I can tell you've got a lot on your mind. Leave this with me, I'm sure we will figure something out,” Neyra said warmly as she rose to her feet.

“Thank you, Neyra, I knew I could count on you,” Kara said looking relieved.

Neyra and Kara met in a warm embrace, the dark skinned beauty feeling the energy within the blond heroine radiating through her body. Truly special was the creature from an alien world.

The embrace broke and Kara went to turn around to leave.

“One question? Laura; should I tell her about this?” Neyra asked.

“Perhaps it would be best if you kept this to yourself. Especially if you don't think you will be holding on to this responsibility,” Kara said wisely.

“OK, then good luck, Kara. If you need anything from us we are here for you. Now let me see you out,” Neyra said preparing to show Kara from the offices.

“No, it's okay, I know my way. When I learn more about all this I will see you again. I expect it will be soon,” Kara responded then with a weak smile she paused before she opened the door and left.

Neyra slumped back into her seat and looked at the envelope again before pulling out the documents inside.

“Oh boy, what have I gotten myself into now?!” Neyra wondered.

= = = = = = = = = = = =

Erin was sat quietly in the press area with Laura who took shots of the the slides being presented to the City Council. The planning committee was looking over evidence being given by a representative from one of the main gaming corporations from Las Vegas. The plans for a small casino venture in the growing city included a hotel as well as a spa and other entertainments as part of a package.

“... of course, this isn't just about the people who live in Littleton. We have other similar establishments, what we call satellite casinos, in locations with similar population sizes and find that their catchment areas draw far into outer areas....”

Erin made notes in short hand, directing Laura to catch the slides that seemed interesting and of course the reactions of the committee members and the panel giving evidence as the questions and answers flowed.

“This seems a big deal. Why haven't I heard about this before now?” whispered Laura noting how the meeting had been progressing.

“Somehow the plans got fast tracked. I'm hoping we can dig into that sometime and found out how and why,” Erin replied, her hand scribbling away on her notepad.

Laura's eyes surveyed the viewing gallery holding the general public who were watching proceedings. There were relatively few people present but one person caught her eye, his glances seemingly falling more often or not on the media box where she, Erin, and some other journalists sat.

“A fan of ours?” whispered Laura.

“Who?” Erin replied, not taking her eyes off the proceedings playing out in front of her.

“Public Gallery, male, far left and leather jacket,” Laura whispered, eyes averted.

Erin made a glance upwards, her eyes inadvertently locking with her watcher as he glanced down at her. Erin scanned the man's face then looked away before he was sure he had been noticed or not.

“That's interesting” whispered Erin, resuming her vigil of proceedings.

“What do you mean,” Laura asked with a frown, avoiding looking up again.

Erin mapped the story in her mind. Last night she had researched Donny Vance, owner of the 'stolen' BMW. It was during her investigations she had discovered that the man up there in the gallery, watching her or the presentation, was an ally of Donny's. Donny's identity as owner of the BMW was still officially under wraps though and so the reporter was not going to divulge all that she had learned to her temporarily assigned photographer. Why risk uncovering her link to the vehicle database with loose talk?

After her thoughtful pause Erin whispered her reply, “Casino's always have a draw for organised crime and I'm sure that's his scene!”

“How do you know him? From another story?” Laura asked quietly, camera to her eye as she snapped a council member who was speaking into a microphone in front of him.

“There was a court case a while back. His testimony basically blew the prosecution case out of the water. There was a huge bust up between the police department and the DA's office afterwards and the detective handling the case got busted down and moved out of the detective pool,” Erin explained.

“So who is he?” Laura asked.

“He's .. ummm .. Flynn … yeah, that's it,” Erin said.

“Flynn..” Laura whispered to herself, her eyes narrowing on the man who Wickes and his little gang of friends had indicated was involved with Cruz. They had given her the name Flynn, surely it was him?

Now it was Laura who was left to consider what she could tell her reporter friend. How could she explain away knowing of Flynn or Cruz? There was no direct way, she concluded, but maybe with coaxing …

“You don't think he's watching us because of the kidnapping case or something?” Laura said, feigning anxiety in a low whisper.

Erin frowned at the question that on the one hand seemed a bit of a stretch and yet seemed somehow uncannily relevant. Erin had been a witness to the event, even reported on it and now a man with links to the owner of the car involved was looking down at her. Erin weighed the percentages in her mind but decided that despite Laura's oddly well judged leap of imagination Flynn was probably only there for the presentation and …

“You're not sure, are you?” Laura whispered, interrupting Erin's train of thought. Somehow Laura sensed the doubt in Erin's mind and hoped to give her another shove.

Erin gave Laura an annoyed glance which caused Laura to remember her place. She was there to take photos, Erin was there to record events. “I'm working here” said Erin's eyes as she listened to the closing moments of the presentation. What Laura felt though was the uncertainty within Erin. There was something going on inside her head which despite Laura's own heightened perception was unable to read.

The pair were holding back the important pieces of their own jigsaw puzzle and were not going to be able to meet in the middle, at least not for now. But if Laura couldn't bring in her knowledge of Flynn and Cruz then perhaps …

“OK, ladies and gentlemen, that concludes our session today. On behalf of the council I want to thank those who have made their presentations before us and ...” the chairman of the session began.

Laura's train of thought was broken as the meeting came to a close. Erin looked at her watch as she finished her final furiously scribbled notes and then began to gather her things.

“Well, some pretty stereotypical viewpoints in that meeting,” Erin said with a sigh. The arguments of bringing in gambling tourism from outside the city as well as the job opportunities for those who would end up working at the resort were pitched against the usual worries of morality and organised crime.

“I'm not a fan but people need jobs and I guess this could be an opportunity for people looking for employment and will bring money to the area,” Laura replied with a shrug as she stowed her camera into her bag.

“I am sure this subject is going to dominate the local political landscape for a while. Anyway, come on, we're off to rattle cages with the police,” Erin said rising to her feet.

“Oh?” Laura asked.

“There's a few things but the main question is the Brookside police shooting. Something might not be right with it, the comment page with the video on the website has gone off the charts,” Erin explained.

“So, it's not just me,” scoffed Laura.

“No, but it's good you challenge things and not just accept the narrative put to you. Come on, let's go,” Erin said.

= = = = = = = = = = = =

Ashley Hill and her assigned partner for their shift, officer Lamb drove slowly down one of the side streets, Lamb's more experienced eyes scanning for the people he knew were regularly there.

“This is normally a good place to look. It has benches and a small park and it makes a good sun trap when it's nice oh ….. aaaand there we go, we have a winner!” Lamb said, his index finger pointing forward beyond the windshield at a youth walking with his back to them down the street.

“How do you want to do this? Is he a runner?” Ashley asked.

“Not usually but it's always interesting when they do! I'll bail here, you ahead of him and cut him off if he runs,” Lamb suggested.

Ashley stopped the patrol car momentarily as Lamb hopped out then pushed on ahead of the suspect before stopping.

“Hey Mattie boy …..” Lamb began.

The youth, Mattie, the hood of his top over his head spun around to see Lamb behind him and his body language immediately betrayed his thoughts of running before realising the car the patrol car that pulled over up ahead was intended for him.

“Shit man, what the fuck!” Mattie protested, throwing his arms to the air in protest.

“Come on Mattie, you know the drill,” Lamb said planting a firm hand on Mattie's shoulder.

Escorting Mattie to the patrol car Ashley and Officer Lamb began to talk with him.

“Where have you been, Mattie? Huh?” Lamb began as he pushed Mattie to the hood of the car.

“Nowhere, man, I've been cool,” Mattie replied, his body language reflecting his annoyance at being pulled up.

Patting Mattie's pockets Lamb tossed the keys and a wallet he found in the youth's pockets onto the hood of the car but found nothing else.

“We've had a couple of complaints about car sound systems getting jacked, know anything?” Ashley pressed.

“What? That ain't me no more. You know I don't need no more shit like that,” Mattie said shaking his head in denial with a reinforcing shrug.

“When was your birthday, Mattie? Just gone hasn't it!” grinned Lamb. He was used to seeing the bravado of the young teens melt away as the shield of the juvenile system left them. Some reformed before it was too late, others kept on sinning only to fall into the darker trap of parole or prison.

Ashley looked at Lamb's expression. Was it right to take delight in waiting for someone to fall into the adult prison system? Surely it was good that someone cleaned up their act while they still could?

“I've not done shit,” Mattie protested his head turning from one side to the other as he talked to the cops who had him, hands planted to the car's hood.

“Tell us where were you last night,” Ashley cut in, trying to bring some order to proceedings.

“The bridge, as usual,” Mattie scowled.

“With your boys I'm sure. I bet they will say so too, Wickes 'n all,” Lamb scoffed folding his arms.

“Yeah, SO?” Mattie contested.

“The bridge?” frowned Ashley.

“Yeah, the boys play under the footbridge by the track sidings, don't you! Let me guess, shooting cans again, eh Mattie?” Lamb mocked. Often the youths would try and alibi each other out with such a claim.

“Would'a done but our game got interrupted! Ask the others if you want,” Mattie said cockily.

“Oh?” Lamb said, genuinely surprised. To have some noteworthy occurrence in an alibi story, it usually had to be true but he wanted to hear it first.

“Yeah man, some woman in black, mask on her face busts in on us askin' about one of Wickes' old friends,” Mattie explained.

“Really? Go on....” Lamb said, head tilting with interest, his hands coming to rest on his belt.

“Horse shit, what woman?” Ashley asked in disbelief. She was the woman in black as far as she knew and she had been in another part of town at the skate park looking for leads on the driver of the BMW.

“Hell if I know, she had a mask over her face. She kept on going on about some guy” Mattie shrugged.

“What guy?” Lamb pressed as he reached into the patrol car for a clipboard now laying on his seat.

“Ask Wickes, man, she was speaking with him not me,” Mattie replied tracking Lamb with his eyes as he moved.

Mattie felt he had said enough to alibi himself out for whatever the two officers were trying to collar him for. Letting Wickes take the heat for whatever the masked woman had wanted seemed fair.

“Was this her?” Lamb asked, pulling back a few sheets on the clipboard to reveal a still image grabbed from the dash-cam video. The motorcyclist was reaching in to rescue Neyra in the frame that had been captured.

“Yeah, could be. After she left someone said she she looked like the one from the news. Besides, how many women bad-asses do we have in Littleton?” Mattie exclaimed, shaking his head.

“More than I thought!” thought Ashley to herself.

“Where will we find Wickes, Mattie?” Lamb asked.

“You know he usually hangs at the bridge,” Mattie growled.

“At NIGHT, but what about NOW?” Lamb pressed.

“I dunno. Now you gonna let me walk or what?” Mattie said, frustrated at being detained.

“Fine, get out of here,” Lamb said.

Mattie scooped up his things from the hood of the car before Lamb give him an unhelpful shove away. Mattie stumbled lightly causing him to scowl back at the cop before walking away angrily.

“You don't really believe that story, do you? About the woman?” Ashley asked of her partner as her eyes tracked Mattie leaving. She knew full well she hadn't been where Mattie claimed to have seen her.

“I don't know, but it's interesting he would mention her out of the blue like that. Let's look for my old buddy Wickes. See what I can shake out of him. This stolen sound system complaint may turn out to be more interesting than we thought,” Lamb said as began to climb back into the patrol car.

Ashley returned to the drivers side door, her mind troubled. If Mattie's story was true who could this other woman be? Could there be someone trying to impersonate her? And who was it that she had been asking Wickes about and why?

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

Peter Monroe in the department of public relations with the city police shook hands with Erin and Laura before the trio sat themselves down at his desk.

“Now what can I do for you, ladies?” Peter asked with a frown.

“Peter, I think we need a proper press meeting, a Q and A session or at least an official statement on the shooting at Brookside the other day,”

“Oh, but I think the press release essentially covers all the basics already, doesn't it?” Peter said, being candid.

“Look, there is a public outcry building up over what the press release claims and what the physical evidence in the public domain seems to suggest. There are postings by people who say they knew the victims and doubted they even knew how to use a gun!” Erin began to explain.

“But you know there is always a formal internal investigation with a police related shooting, Erin. It's procedure that we don't discuss ...” Peter said, cutting over the reporter's comment.

“Peter, something doesn't add up. You should at least acknowledge that you are looking into the concerns of the public,” Erin suggested, jumping back in.

“Erin, I can't make that commitment myself but obviously I will pass that up the line. As for your request for the M.E's report there has been no change on that.” Peter replied, slightly squirming in his seat. Normally his relationship with the local press and public was smooth sailing.

“Peter, I have a duty to report the news. If the news is that despite the public concern you're NOT going to make anything available then THAT's what I will report,” Erin said firmly.

“Look, let's not be caught either side of the fence, Erin. Let the investigation run its course and then when the dust settles the public will get to know what happened,” Peter said diplomatically.

“Well, do we have a time-frame on that? My concern is if you don't cover the questions raised by this case and time elapses we will have lost momentum,” Erin urged.

“As I said I will pass your concerns and doubts up along the chain. Typically these sorts of reports are dealt with within a few weeks, you just need to be patient. Now was there anything else?” Peter began to ask.

“The Andromeda Hotel kidnapping case, would it be possible to talk to the investigating officer, Detective Brockman?” Erin asked again as she consulted her notepad.

Peter leaned back into his seat contemplating the request, “I've not really been made aware of any updates on that case. Has he said anything to you?”

“I know about the BMW that was found. Perhaps he could use us to help jog the public's memory about it? We both can get something out of this development, surely?” Erin pressed.

“I have your card, I'll see if Brockman has anything he wants to give to the press. Of course if there are any developments on either that case or the shooting there will either be a press conference or a release,” Peter said.

“Fine, then we are done I guess,” Erin said, her tone disgruntled.

“I am sorry I can't help you any more,” Peter said with a weak smile.

“Come on, Laura, we are leaving,” Erin said rising to her feet. Laura nodded, and rose too. Laura wasn't sure if her sense of being stonewalled by the man in front of her was just her intuition or something her powers had picked up on.

= = = = = = = = = = =

Sargent Bishop tapped on the open door of William Kohl's office, the deputy commissioner's eyes rising to see the man before him. Kohl had been studying something on his laptop with a troubled expression, his eyes betraying what would appear to be the onset of a severe headache.

“Bishop, come in, close the door,” Kohl said, beckoning the Sargent to approach.

Bishop passed into the office and with a glance back out into the corridor closed the door behind him. Kohl's office was bathed in natural light, the corner office at the top of the city's main police station house reflecting his status.

“There has been a development you should know about. Lamb checked in, our black knight, apparently she has been on the streets again last night,” Bishop explained.

Kohl pinched the bridge of his nose, his pained expression underlying his displeasure at hearing more bad news. “What was she doing this time, does Lamb know?”

“Apparently she was pressing some gang member about the whereabouts of one of their former friends,” Bishop continued, stepping forward to Kohl's desk.

“What do you think it was about?” Kohl frowned.

“The man she was questioning, his name is Wickes. We don't know what she was looking for but Wickes has a rap sheet. Perhaps she suspects Wickes knows something that can feed her into the bigger picture. He was associated with Cruz once upon a time,” Bishop said.

“This is spiralling. We don't even know who this woman in black is yet. Any more thoughts on it being Ashley Hill?” Kohl growled.

“Actually she is partnered up with Lamb right now. Seems she was as taken by surprise by this as Lamb was,” Bishop said.

“Hmmm, I still want her watched. God, Bishop, what do you think? Using Flynn and Cruz has turned out to be a big mistake. I should have kept this in house,” Kohl said bitterly.

“You say that but imagine if we now had one of our officers all over the Bugle website with the Thornton woman in the back of a reportedly stolen BMW. That would have been a disaster,” Bishop said, reassuring his superior.

“Maybe but I have enough problems with that damned shooting at Brookside. Erin Tate from the Bugle has just been to see Peter pushing him for a press conference on the matter. Every armchair detective is picking the audio from that video to pieces on the internet,” Kohl said, spinning his laptop computer around to face Bishop.

Bishop recognised The Bugle banner running across the top of the website. Beneath it was a recognisable still shot from the now infamous video and line after line of comments from web page visitors.

“If you are worried about the motorcyclist hunting down Cruz I am sure Flynn is just as concerned. Flynn will make sure Cruz won't talk,” Bishop said thoughtfully.

Kohl glanced up at Bishop, spinning his laptop back to face himself once again. Looking at the webpage Kohl's eyes revealed how his mind was churning through the conundrums they were facing.

“This reporter, Erin Tate, she was at the event. She even tried to stop Cruz escaping. What if ...” Kohl's voice trailed off as he thought through his plot.

Bishop tried to link the dots in the picture that Kohl was imagining, “You think our problems might take care of themselves?”

“We need more information, but if things look bad I think I have a clean cut way of making our problems go away,” Kohl grinned, a perfect plan hatching in his mind.

“What are you suggesting?” Bishop asked.

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

Neyra escorted her client to the lobby of the Thornton constrution office and shook hands with a smile. An architect, the client had sought Neyra's services to convert his sterile looking drawings and plans into something a little more visually appealing. Of course it would be Neyra's father's company that would eventually get to turn those dull looking technical drawings into a real building.

With a happy wave the client left and Neyra spun around to return to her offices. All her appointments for the day were over and the last few free hours of her working day would let her continue with drawing projects. As she set to move away from the lobby she was drawn by the indicative eyes of the receptionist. With a slight frown Neyra traced the path of the receptionist's gaze into the waiting room and saw Kara once again.

“Oh, ok, I've got this,” smiled Neyra.

Nerya walked over to the disguised superheroine who once again was keeping a low profile.

“Kara, twice in one day? People will talk!” Neyra said with a light laugh.

“I'm so sorry to bother you again. Things are moving quickly,” Kara said apologetically as she rose to her feet.

Neyra noted that at Kara's side sat a small metal case. Like a tool case it was metal shelled and Neyra's mind whirled about what was inside.

“Sure, come with me to my office,” Neyra said as she led Kara away from reception, the case in her hand.

As the two walked Neyra realised that during their morning encounter she had not even had an opportunity to ask about the others and oddly Kara had not even enquired about them either.

“Is everyone ok? You took me by surprise this morning and I had forgotten to ask about them,” apologised Neyra.

Kara realised that with everything that was going on even she had become a little tunnel-visioned. Actually there was a lot to tell. Vel and his psychopathic monster had unleashed a cyber attack. She had had a major argument with Selena, McGee wouldn't help her, Lisa had been shot though somehow had escaped serious injury but at least Lucy seemed fine.

“Oh, you know, the usual bumps and scrapes. And you? Is Laura behaving?” Kara said, mustering a smile. Burdening Neyra with bad news while putting the responsibility of babysitting the president's secret program didn't seem right to the heroine.

“Laura has taken on some part time work on her break, and 'you-know-who' has been doing some light handed nocturnal work. And as for me, well...” Neyra's hand gestured to a few in progress drawings sat on her table that did the talking for her. Neyra could tell Kara was troubled despite all the niceties, she wasn't going to bother her with 'oh and I got abducted – AGAIN' tales.

Kara nodded in acceptance of Neyra's news, unknowing of the full truth and placed the metal case carefully onto the desk.

“Is this what I think it is, the cards?” Neyra asked as she suddenly suspected what was contained within.


“How did you know that?” Kara asked with a slightly bemused expression and she released the latches of the small metal case and flipped open the lid.

Inside, sat in their own individual wells cut from the protective foam were six credit card sized identity cards. In pale blue with black text the cards were emblazoned with some hardware supply store's name and logo. To one side appeared to be some sort of chip embedded in the card's surface.

“May I?” Neyra asked, her hand gesturing to one of the cards.

“Neyra, they're yours, but ...” Kara said with a frown. She wondered how it was that Neyra knew to treat them in such high regard, such was their mundane appearance.

Neyra reverently plucked up a card from the foam lined case and held it between thumb and forefinger, flipping it this way and that with a look of curiosity on her face.

“I had lunch alone and did a quick speed read over the documentation you gave me this morning. This is James Bond stuff!” Neyra said, eyes wide as she studied the card.

“I met the president at Camp David earlier. An advisor demonstrated what the cards can do but they are inert now until whenever they get activated again. I guess I underestimated your ability to take this all in,” Kara said in surprise.

“I have often read business contracts for my father. You soon learn to how to pick through the important stuff,” Neyra explained as she returned the card to the metal case.

Kara tried to read Neyra. The tall black beauty made for a curious blend, both serious yet down to earth, responsible but with a degree of wildness about her. It somehow made Kara seem confident of her choice but with room for a hint of doubt. Or was it that she had doubt but felt somehow it would all work out?

“Well let's hope it never comes to the point we need to use this. It does seem to be a desperate measure.” Neyra said seriously after a moment of contemplation.

“I agree, but I need it kept in safe hands. I can have no influence over this, you literally work as a relay between me and the government of this country, a relay that is meant to work in one direction, from ME to THEM. All of this is meant to empower you and the others so you can help me,” Kara said.

“I know. I guess I just need to sit on this until you find someone permanent. Perhaps Selena will change her mind,” Neyra said, almost trying to reassure herself that her guardianship of the metal box and what it represented was only a temporary affair.

Kara didn't know how to respond. Would it be a big put down to agree with Neyra or be too much pressure to say she thought Neyra actually might make a good candidate?

“I am sure it will all work out in the end, but for now, congratulations! You are the first holder of a Doug's Hardware Supplies loyalty card,” Kara said, trying to put a positive spin on the moment.

“DHS? I see what they did there,” groaned Neyra.

= = = = = = = = = = = =


Chris, the deputy editor accepted Laura's photos and her written list of images. After their fruitless efforts with the police Erin and Laura had moved on to other more mundane stories before returning to the offices. Erin had gotten onto the task of writing her piece on the casino hearings from the morning, her eyes scanning her hand written scrawl as she furiously typed.

The late afternoon was turning to early evening and Barnes was seen to be busily ticking off items on his whiteboard in his office as the next day's edition of The Bugle came together. Laura returned to Erin who had already hammered out her opening salvo of work.

“Hey, Chris said I could go but I thought I would check in with you first. Is there anything I can do for you?” Laura asked.

“No, you're good. This is the part where I earn my salary, you've done your bit,” Erin said, barely looking away from her screen.

“It's incredible to think those hours of presentations today may just get boiled down to so few words,” Laura said as she saw Erin typing out her story.

“It's all about the inches. I wonder how much Barnes is going to let me get away with when I write my hatchet piece on the Brookside shootings,” Erin quipped.

“What are you going to say?” Laura said, slightly agog.

“Oh, that in light of public concern we ha have pushed for some transparency but have gotten no joy,” Erin said with a little sarcasm. Somehow she seemed able to talk, type and think on different lines without it interfering with her work.

“It's not going to get you into any trouble, is it?” Laura asked naively.

“Our job is to report on things. That means asking about the W's. If we are doing that and not getting answers we report that too. That's not me making trouble, that's me doing my job,” Erin explained.

“I guess I'm not used to seeing things from this side,” Laura replied.

“Go on, go home, I will see you again tomorrow,” Erin said, encouraging Laura to get out of her hair.

“Sure, I will see you then.......” Laura answered as she gathered up her things.

With a hand Erin gestured to Laura to go, her poking tongue underscoring that her desire to have Laura leave was for the benefit of her workflow, not personal.

“.....but not before Spydra sees you first!” Laura thought to herself as she began to depart with a friendly wave goodbye.

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

Ashley Hill had returned to her home after another full shift at work. In her mind was the mug shot image of Wickes, the man she and Lamb had sought but not found. The youth Mattie had said a woman in black had questioned Wickes about another man and Ashley was determined to learn more. This other woman in black, whoever she was, might be looking for the same man she was interested in finding, the driver of the BMW. He was likely linked to “The Club” somehow, the shadowy corrupt inner circle within the police department. Getting access to him might unlock some of the darker secrets of “The Club's” activities.

Right now though she had another problem. On her journey home she had picked up a tail. She was sure that she hadn't been linked to her nocturnal activities as the motorcycling vigilante but perhaps she was a suspect. Her brother police officers who were on the wrong side of the line probably knew she was comfortable on a bike and handy with a night stick, raising their suspicions of her. Tonight at least she would probably have to give up ideas of hitting the streets but she knew time was getting close to her trying to expose the body of her murdered father and the incriminating evidence that should be with it.

Considering her options Ashley decided to sit tight. Perhaps if the other woman in black made another move that night it might take herself out the frame, especially as someone was ...

“Who are you and why are you spying on me?” Ashley said to herself as she peeked out a window to the street below to see the car and its driver who had been following her parked at the front of the building.

Perhaps having a babysitter might turn out to be useful after all, she just needed her impersonator to make a move again.

“Well, I may as well use the time to listen to the joys of the men's locker room,” Ashley quipped as she prepared to listen to her captured audio once more.

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

Early evening drew on, the city's lights slowly becoming more prominent against the darkening sky. Flynn sought to park his distinctive black mustang at the multi-storey carpark on the open top floor. There were few cars parked up there the majority of drivers preferring to keep their vehicles in among the herd, unlikely to be singled out by thieves. Pulling in alongside a plain black SUV Flynn lowered his drivers door window and peered up as the SUV's tinted glass window followed suit.

“Sargent Taylor” grinned Flynn, acknowledging the man in front of him.

“Don't call me that, you prick,” Taylor growled his eyes scanning their surroundings.

“Never gonna let it go, are you? What's the pay as a SWAT Sargent anyway? Any good compared to when you were detective?” Flynn quipped with a grin seeing Taylor's ire.

“The way I see it you OWE me, Flynn. Blowing that trial to get Vance off the hook was to rescue YOUR money, remember, else I would still be a detective. Now, are you listening little errand boy?” Taylor retorted seriously.

“What do you want?” Flynn said, his smile fading.

“Kohl's little empire has problems, they need fixing,” Taylor explained.

“OK, I'm listening,” Flynn said with a subtle nod tapping the side of his car with his outstretched arm.

“First problem is Cruz. The net is closing in on that little fish of yours,” Taylor said, his eyes glancing around for any witnesses.

“He ain't gonna talk to your boys in blue if that's what you are worried about,” Flynn scoffed, head turning away in disbelief.

“Not us, the vigilante...” Taylor explained. Flynn obviously wasn't considering all the angles.

“Oh jeez, HER?” Flynn shook his head. He wasn't concerned about what some woman on a bike was up to.

“Listen, she has been hustling someone called Wickes...” Taylor said, trying to highlight the danger.

“That loser? He doesn't know shit,” Flynn said dismissively.

“Listen genius, if you know HIM then he knows YOU. We already know he was associated with Cruz. If this Wickes knows something about him it will lead back to Cruz. And Cruz leads back to YOU and then back to ME! Get the picture?” Taylor said, lecturing his criminal friend.

“OK, so what has Wickes said?” Flynn asked.

“We are going to find out but if Wickes has given up Cruz then you have to stop the rot,” Taylor said.

“Can't we just get Cruz out of town or something instead till this shit dies down? I've been building him up to get more action, he's smart and reliable, not someone I can replace easily,” Flynn said gruffly. Taylor didn't seem to understand good help was hard to find.

“If it was just that then we'd probably say yes but there's more than just him to worry about,” Taylor said with a pained expression.

“Let me guess, problem number two?” Flynn scoffed.

“The reporter. She's causing problems and we want her to go away,” Taylor went on.

“Now THAT we can agree on. Sure, I think you and Thompson have brought her down on us with the shitfest you've stirred up over at Brookside but now she's poking into the casino application too. Do you think she knows it's all connected?” Flynn asked.

“Not yet but if we keep gifting her pieces of jigsaw puzzle she may just start seeing the bigger picture,” cautioned Taylor.

“What are you proposing?” Flynn asked reluctantly.

“Are you still able to reach out to Cruz? If things go south we are going to need you to be able to act fast,” Taylor said, his face looking serious.

“Sure, why? What the fuck you guys planning?” Flynn asked, eyes narrowing on Taylor.


= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

Laura entered her home and after closing the front door behind her dropped her keys onto the table by the front door. There were signs of life in the home already, Neyra's shoes were in the hallway on the rack and her car was in the driveway.

“Neyra?” Laura asked as she walked relaxed through the house.

Neyra gasped as she heard Laura enter the house a little sooner than expected. With buses only passing the area only every half hour it seemed Laura managed to catch an earlier ride home than expected. Biting her bottom lip the tall back beauty battled to make a space for the metal box that Kara had given her at the top of her wardrobe.

“Neyra?” Laura asked again as she bobbed her head into the kitchen doorway having found the living room empty.

“Just a minute!” Neyra replied as she heard Laura closing in on her upstairs.

Raising the metal box up Neyra slid it into position along with the documentation she had been given, jamming them between two hat boxes. Hurriedly she began to draw some shoe boxes in front, obscuring the metal box from view. Lowering herself from her tiptoes Neyra stepped back and quickly closed the wardrobe door and began to turn arou...


“Hey, there you ….” Laura began as she popped her head through the doorway pausing mid sentence.

Neyra stepped back putting her body to the wardrobe door a look of nervous surprise on her face.

“...are!” finished Laura. To her it was as if she had caught Neyra raiding the cookie jar.

“Oh, you surprised me!” smiled Neyra, trying to contain her guilt.

“Hey, you ok?” Laura asked with a puzzled expression.

“Sure, I errr, was looking for some old shoes. I guess I must have given them away already,” Neyra lied.

“Oh, which ones?” Laura asked trying to be helpful.

“Oh it was before you came along, an old white pair of heels. I thought they had made the move with us from the studio apartment but apparently not,” Neyra said as she stepped forward gesturing with her arm that she was leaving the room.

“Oh, okay. So, how was your day?” Laura asked, spinning around.

“Not that exciting, yours?” Neyra said calmly, glad they were heading away from the bedroom. For now Neyra wanted to keep the super spy program that Supergirl had dropped into her lap a secret. With luck her role would be over before it began, Selena being the right choice in her eyes.

“Frustrating. Knowing things as you-know-who and not being able to tell anyone about it is a pain,” groaned Laura.

“Oh?” Neyra said as the pair descended the stairs together.

“I am sure Erin is missing some blanks to a story that I could help fill her in on, except...” Laura began.

“.....Spydra knows, not Laura Granger?” Neyra asked, filling in Laura's words.

“I need to see speak to her,” Laura said confidently as the pair entered the living room.

“You-know-who needs to speak to her,” Nerya corrected with a slightly concerned look on her face.

Neyra sat on the sofa curling into a corner and Laura sat close by. Laura's light skinned hands contrasted against the darker flesh of Neyra's bare foot as she grasped it gently and began to massage her soles.

Neyra's face revealed the pleasurable sensation she felt as Laura got to work. Kneading the dense flesh of the underside of Neyra's foot Laura felt her slowly relax and soften.

“You're worried she might recognise me, aren't you? We worked on that remember but if I pick up vibes she's getting on to me I'll back off,” Laura said as she saw Neyra go adrift with bliss.

“I never thought you'd openly go to a member of the press. You've been doing okay with your little adventures so far and keeping under the radar which was what you wanted,” Neyra said, the pacing of her words punctuated by the sensations being delivered by Laura's thumbs into the soles of her feet.

“So far, but we knew a picture or a news story was going to happen eventually. Besides, Erin has already started to pull stories of my nocturnal exploits together but she's going off track with the woman who pulled you from the BMW. But that's not why I need to speak to her, I need to tell her about Cruz and Flynn,” Laura explained.

“So, you know where to find Erin?” Neyra asked.

“Uh-huh, yes, I know her address. There were some unopened post sat on the passenger seat when I borrowed her car,” Laura replied as she tapped Neyra's other foot, wanting to get to work anew.

“Well I suppose I should be grateful you are going into a meet-and-greet and not getting into trouble. But what's the plan? Just knock on her front door?” asked Neyra, wondering if Laura had thought through how this meeting was going to go.

Laura grinned mischievously in reply, “I have a much better idea than that!”

“Hmm, and I have a much better idea than THIS!” Neyra's eyes flashed, glancing at how Laura was gently worshipping her feet.

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

Wickes walked along the maintenance track towards the bridge. Beneath the usual gaggle of youths chatted and played. The sound of a basketball could be heard bouncing on the hard concrete floor that supported the columns holding the bridge. Below them in the cutting a freight train slowly clattered by having pulled away from one of the nearby sidings.

“Hey whaddup guys?” Wickes yelled, a brown bagged bottle in his hand.

“Come on man, we need a sixth over here, even things up,” one of the youths called, urging Wickes to come.

“Where the fuck did you get THAT?” Wickes asked wide eyed as he entered into the area beneath the bridge.

Stood against one of the concrete columns a free standing basketball hoop had appeared. The square profile tubular steel frame holding it all up must have been heavy.

“The school was throwing it out man, it was in pieces inside a skip. So, we, acquired it!” bragged one of the youths.

“No shit!” Wickes said, hands on hips as he admired their handy work. The backboard was a little chipped and the net looked tired but it all seemed functional at least.

“Dragged it all down here, set it up, almost as good as new!” bragged another youth.

“Well, makes for another game to take your money with,” joked Wickes.

“If we had any!”

“So, three versus three?” Wickes asked noting there were five players on the makeshift court.

“Yeah man!”

“Where's Mattie?” Wicked asked realising one of the regulars was missing.

“Layin' low, the cops tried to tag him,”

“Oh yeah, what for?” Wickes said, putting his bottle down and bundling it inside his jacket which he stripped off leaving him in a white t-shirt.

“Dunno, someone said the cops stopped him though. Talked to him for a bit then let him walk,”

Wickes thought on what had been said for a moment then dismissed the information. If the police had nothing on Mattie he probably hadn't done anything wrong, or at least nothing they could prove. Besides, he had been trying to clean up his act.

“Whatever, come on then, let's see what ya got!” grinned Wickes as he clapped his hands wanting to get a game underway.

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

Erin Tate drove towards the entrance of the subterranean car park for her apartment building and descended, a nervous glance in her mirrors confirming the car she thought she had seen shadowing her wasn't following her inside.

After parking her car Erin anxiously scooped up her things from the passenger seat along with the paper bag holding her takeout meal she had collected on the drive home and made her way to the elevator.

Hitting the call button Erin waited for the elevator to come down to the carpark, a process that today seemed to take unusually more time than normal. The following car had spooked her a little and she was keen to get to the safety of her apartment.

BING rang the bell proudly as the doors opened.

Erin entered and spun around and eagerly stabbed the button for her floor. There was a pause as the elevator stood idle, the gaping wide open doors giving a sense of vulnerability but as Erin went to press the button again the doors voluntarily closed.

There was a sigh of relief that she was finally underway again but the floor indicator light couldn't climb fast enough for her liking. Eventually though she arrived on her floor and with a cautious glance left and right first Erin stepped into the corridor and made her way towards her front door, her heart rate elevated just a little.

Erin's key seemed to protest as she tried to present it to the lock, refusing to go into the barrel without a wiggle but after a frantic effort the door finally relented and opened for her. Erin ducked inside her apartment and gave the door a firm shove closing it behind her then peeked out the spyhole to confirm she had not been followed.

Carrying her things into the kitchen she set her take out meal onto a counter top and placed the few individual cartons onto a tray along with the provided chopsticks. Reaching into her handbag Erin pulled up her cellphone next and began to compose a message.

“Boss, I think someone followed me on my drive home, not sure. Am safe in apartment now. I am going to change routine, get in a little early tomorrow, just in case – Erin”

Erin selected BARNES from her address book and sent the message then poured herself a glass of white wine which she set on the tray.

Erin was a little shaken but was determined to put whatever had happened out of her mind. She was going to go into her living room, fire up Netflix or something and just try and relax. Walking barefoot from the kitchen Erin deftly turned on the hallway light and entered her living room. In the half lit room Erin set her tray down onto the coffee table, the city lights twinkling at her through her large window.

Erin spun around and returned to the doorway and the living room light switch, illuminating the room and then turned around again to …

Erin gasped as she set eyes on her window once more. Now, illuminated from inside she could see that stuck to the glass appeared to be a note.

“Wait?” Erin's fear suddenly turning to puzzlement. Approaching her window it became obvious that the note was fixed to the glass from the outside.

“How the?” Erin mouthed as her hand confirmed it was true, the clear window was between her and the note. It had been pegged to the window from the outside.

The glass windows in Erin's apartment did not open, it was an air conditioned building after all. The message could only have been placed there from outside. Placing a shielding hand over the glass Erin reduced the reflections hindering her ability to read the note and finally made out the message that had been scrawled onto it.

“Miss Tate – I saw you at Watanabe's Store – We should talk! Meet me on the roof? - Spydra”

Erin went wide eyed and then returned to her cellphone and pulled up the images folder. She had taken a snapshot of the note that Mrs Watanabe had been left by the vigilante who had returned the stolen beer those few nights earlier.

“Moron, it's not Polish or Slovakian. But Spydra? What kind of name is that?!” Erin frowned.


Up on the roof Spydra waited patiently, stooped on top of the elevator shaft maintenance shed that stood proud above the main roof of the building. Alongside the locked door for the shed was the door at the top of the stairs that ran down through the core of the building. It was that door which Erin was going to come through any moment. Spydra sensed it, could see it, any second now and …

BDAMF … the door shuddered with a metallic rattle as it was hurriedly shoved open.

Erin looked about herself and walked forward towards the center of the roof space glancing left and right. The roof line was dotted with aerials and air conditioning units all of which offered some kind of hiding place but in reality Spydra had been waiting directly above the doorway, the last place Erin was going to check.

“OK, if you're here, show yourself,” Erin said bravely if not nervously, slowly exploring ahead.

Spydra gently lowered herself down from above the doorway, a blob of web fixing the access door closed. The web would decay after a while but for now the roof was hers and Erin's to enjoy unmolested.

“Hello, Miss Tate,” Spydra began, arms folded in front of herself.

Erin spun around to see the black and gun metal grey masked figure blocking her escape route.

“I should call nine-one-one right now. Was that you following me in the car?” demanded Erin.

“Do I look like I use a car to get around?” Spydra replied, her surprise at the question reflected in her momentary body language.

“What is this about? Are you really called Spydra? And why the mask? And how the hell did you leave that message on my window?” Erin began, the questions flowing out of her, taken aback by what was in front of her.

Spydra seemed to recoil from the torrent of questions which caused Erin to take a pause.

“Wow, don't hold back, ask me anything!” Spydra quipped.

“I'm sorry, but I wasn't quite expecting this when I got home,” Erin said, hands falling to her hips.

“You are right, let's start over. My name is Spydra and, well, I got the impression you are looking for me. I saw you and your photographer at Watanabe's store. I guess they showed you my note?” Spydra explained. Giving Laura an alibi might help keep Erin off the scent too.

“Watanabe was just the latest. There have been rumours for a while now about someone like you in our city, a vigilante” Erin asked.

“I want to make a difference if I can but doing all this is all new to me,” Spydra explained.

“How did you know about the kidnapped woman in the BMW? Did someone tip you off or...” Erin began to ask.

“You think I am the woman on the motorcycle? No, that wasn't me, though I would be interested to meet her,” Spydra replied, initially shaking her head.

“But... then who?” Erin wondered aloud.

“I don't know. But what I think may be important for you to know is the name of the driver of the BMW. I am sure his name is Cruz,” Spydra added.

“Cruz...” Erin mouthed to herself, “...and how do you know of him?” she asked loudly.

“He and I …. well, we met once before,” Spydra said cryptically.

Erin edged closer a few paces trying to get a better look at this Spydra character in front of her. Erin could tell from the voice Spydra was female but the contours of her suit certainly left little to doubt. The odd weave of the fabric, or perhaps armour looked complex yet somehow moved with the woman beneath it. The segmented belt and the array of flasks hooked onto it also caught Erin's eye.

“And this Cruz, is his thing kidnapping people?” Erin asked, wondering what Spydra knew.

“He seemed small time when I first me him but he might be getting into something deeper. He has a new friend who may be mentoring him,” Spydra replied, her head cocking as she measured the inches turning to feet by which Erin was sneakily closing the distance to her.

“And who might that be?” Erin wondered.

“My sources said he was called Flynn but that is all I know about him so far,” Spydra said.

“Flynn?! But ….” Erin's mind slowly connected the dots. She already established the BMW's owner, Donny Vance, had links to Flynn and if this Spydra could be trusted then the driver had links to Flynn too. Flynn was at the heart of this then, but what was his motivation for having Neyra Thornton abducted? Was it as simple as money?

“What can you tell me about Flynn?” Spydra asked, her mesh lensed eyes trying to get back into Erin's eye line having looked away in thought.

“Well I guess nothing I tell you about him you can't find on your own. Flynn has a small trail of drug arrests on his sheet that never seem to stick. He also testified at a trial some time back for the defence, basically trashed the prosecution case. The defendant was someone called Donny Vance, some property guy. He made his money flipping real estate, still does. He had been accused of laundering money but somehow Flynn's testimony got him off,” Erin explained.

“There must be a reason why Flynn did that for him. Do you think it was Flynn's money that Vance was cleaning?” Spydra suggested.

“That's one theory. Flynn's cash could be in jeopardy if Vance went away so you can imagine he would try to keep him out,” Erin said. She had thought on this and had intended to keep that theory to herself but it seemed this Spydra was sharp.

“Well that is the past, Cruz is the man who is in the spotlight now,” Spydra said.

“And what do you intend to do when you find him?” Erin asked. How was this masked vigilante going to respond she wondered as she edged a little closer.

“That depends on him,” Spydra answered.

“Well, SPYDRA, I hope nothing happens to him or I will be pointing the police in your direction. You have to understand that, right?” Erin said frankly.

“I am not out to kill people, Miss Tate,” Spydra asserted.

“That maybe so, but you are what you are, a vigilante in a mask and eventually people like you are forced to make tough choices,” Erin said, stealing another foot of distance between them both.

“Well I think I can prove I am little bit more than just a woman in a mask,” Spydra said coyly noting that Erin was trying to get closer.

“How so?” Erin said, her head cocking to one side.

“You'll see,” Spydra said mischievously as she turned away and began walking to the edge of the building.

“Wait, is this it?” Erin asked anxiously with a confused shrug.

“For now, but I hope we can talk again,” Spydra said, her voice sounding happy.

“Where are you ….. you can't go that way …. oh god ….. what are you doing?!” Erin said in panic as she saw Spydra walk confidently to the edge of the building. Erin's eyes noted Spydra's frame, lightly muscular and toned beneath her suit with a compact athletic frame.

“Good bye, Miss Tate,” Spydra said, glancing over her shoulder before aiming her arm out towards the building across the street.

PHUT!

“What the … hey, NO !” Erin said, taking chase only to see Spydra swing off across to the other building on her web.

Erin watched speechless as Spydra climbed the wall of the neighbouring building, traversing the stone facade blockwork around a corner before giving a cheeky wave and leaping off on another web towards some other building and out of sight.

Erin stood for twenty of thirty seconds looking out into the darkness, the cool air and the sounds of the city slowly entering the bubble of space she had shared with the heroine. Erin blinked and then cursed herself. No photo's were taken, no notes made, not even a recording of her conversation. Questions began to race through her mind. Was the suit responsible for Spydra's abilities? Or were they natural? Was she even human? And what was in those flasks on her belt?

“Dammit, dammit, dammit!” Erin growled as she turned from the roof edge and moved to the doorway of the stairwell.

Pulling the door there was some resistance and then Erin noted the sticky goo holding the door closed.

“What the!” Erin said eyes wide in surprise as she discovered the goo before she had an idea. “Hmmm!”

= = = = = = = == =

“Job done, it went well!” Spydra said over her comms as she swung across the void between two buildings.

“Well done baby, come on home,” Neyra replied. Her voice highlighted her relief and her desire to bring Laura home before she got into any more mischief that night.

“Not yet, there is someone else I want to see,” Spydra said thoughtfully.

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

Wickes and his group had played basketball till they were tired and had taken to sitting in a group around the portable music player that one of their number had brought with them. Drinking shots and talking on the topics of the day the group was loud but harming no one as they passed their time. Nearby a rusty old oil drum gave off its heat, the flames of the small fire set inside licking out through the many holes riddled through it.

“Why do you think no one knows about that Spydra kid? She's not on TV or in the paper,” one of the youths asked into the group.

“Fuck knows. Perhaps she's like a secret, like in the military or something,” someone ventured.

“No way, man! Why would she be here and not in some war zone?”

“Maybe we are the guinea pigs and they are testing her on us first?”

“I don't know guys but she doesn't seem to be like a cop or a soldier but I know something has changed about her since I first met her. Even though it was quick I'm sure she's a lot more confident about herself now than before,” Wickes said sagely into the group.

Unseen by the youths as they chatted loudly while their music blared a trio of large men approached, Mattie's upper arm in the grip of one of their number. Mattie writhed in the grip of the much larger man, as he was forcibly marched.

“Which one is he?” demanded one of the newcomers.

“Fuck off,” protested Mattie.

“Which one!” insisted the large muscular man, twisting Mattie's arm till he yelped.

“There, in the black leather jacket,” Mattie relented.

The burly man gripping Mattie's arm shoved him roughly to the ground, stepping on the prone youth's hand before walking on with his two other compatriots.

“WICKES!” one of the large men growled as the moved nearer to the group of youths.

The youths sat near the fire all spun their heads to see the three large men approaching, some posturing defensively as they saw the strangers near.

“Who the fuck are they?”

“What do you want?”

“Hey hey hey, what's this about?”

“Everyone stay cool, yeah I'm Wickes,” Wickes said, rising to his feet.

The newcomer who appeared to be the leader of the trio reached into his jacket and pulled out a large pistol.

“Oh shit a gun!” murmured the group.

“We want a word, Wickes,” the leader said, letting his pistol in his hand hang by his side. It was a statement of power rather than an intent to use his weapon, a statement that made a strong impression.

“I'm sorry man, they made me....” began Mattie, still on the floor, his face revealing he had been roughed up.

“It's ok, Mattie. Go on, get out of here,” Wickes said motioning with his head.

“You stay RIGHT THERE,” one of the leader's wingmen said, casting a threatening glare over his shoulder at the prone hoodie wearing youth.

“Why you do that to Mattie? He ain't done anything,” Wickes argued, seeing Mattie's condition.

“Shut the fuck up, prick. What did the woman in black want? What did you tell her?” the leader demanded.

“Who's askin'?” Wickes replied. His body language betrayed his anxiety but somehow his mind was able to try and join the dots of what was going on.

The leader's face seemed to snarl up at Wickes' stubborn refusal to answer, “We ask the questions. So, what did she want? Start talkin' or I start turning Mattie into a sieve,”

The two associates of the gun wielding leader glanced at each other anxiously but stood their ground, backing up their front man who was doing the talking.

“What did you tell them Mattie?” Wickes said, looking at Mattie who had begun to sit up, clutching his bruised and bloodied hand.

The gunman looked back at Mattie behind them then looked back at Wickes, “Oh Mattie here says he was here with you all last night when the woman in black showed up, ain't that right, Mattie? So, what did she want and what did you tell her. We know she was looking for someone,”

Mattie scowled back at the ring leader, his bruises reminding him of how that piece of information had been beaten from him.

“Who the fuck are you working for? The woman in black obviously didn't send you. And if she had ruffled someone else's feathers you'd know exactly who we had pointed her at,” Wickes said, picking apart the trio's motive for being there.

“Fine, I've tried being nice,” the leader said, motioning with his head to his two comrades.

The trio moved forward in a loose triangular formation, the leader raising his gun and aiming at Wickes who backed up slowly, hands raised.

“Run!” Wickes urged his friends. Suddenly all the youth's seemed to scatter, abandoning Wickes to his fate except for Mattie who seemed in no shape to move.

The two wingmen glanced at the fleeing youths but their leader walked on towards Wickes who turned to run. The two weaponless thugs closed in on Wickes too and laid their hands on him. Compared to Wickes the trio were physically much much bigger and despite his struggles he found himself grabbed by the arms and thrust against one of the concrete columns of the bridge.

“Come on guys, you don't have to do this,” Wickes protested with false bravado. He was somewhat resigned to at least having a few ribs broken.

“Give us a name! We know she is looking for someone,” the leader said, sliding his pistol back inside his jacket.

Wickes tried to add it all up. Was it really worth getting beaten to keep Cruz's name to himself? But what might happen if he just confessed? Was their mission to find out what he knew then get rid of him? As Wickes tried to figure out how things had gotten to this moment he ...

WHUMP!

The leader's blow landed just below Wickes' ribs, winding the young man. Doubling over it was only the two other thugs holding his arms apart that prevented Wickes from dropping to the floor.

“NAME!” demanded the leader.

“My crew are going to come back,” wheezed Wickes, bluffing. His rag tag group of friends had ran, they knew what was best for them.

“Them? They aren't coming back and you know it,” the lead thug quipped, flexing his right fist.

WHAM!

“Oooooooh” groaned Wicke's as the wind was knocked from his sails once again.

“Listen, Wickes. Me and my guys, we don't need this shit. Now you don't want me to start working your face like I did with Mattie do you? Is it the woman in black you're protecting? You know she don't give a shit about you, right?” the lead thug continued, grabbing Wickes's hair forcing the young man to look at his attacker.

Wickes eyes burned with anger at the leader who stared right back at him. With a confirmatory glance at his two comrades the leader prepared to swing another punch into Wickes' unprotected stomach.

“Want to hold out, huh?” the leader sneered as his arm drew back to his side.

“HEY! Pick on someone your own size!” called a voice directly behind the burly threesome.

“What the!” the trio said in unison spinning around to see who had confronted them from nowhere.

“Watch out !” Wickes called out to Spydra who had dropped from the bridge above on a web landing squarely behind the three assailants.

“It.... it's her! Fuck!” the leader said in sudden confusion.

The trio seemed paralysed by the sudden turn of events and didn't seem to know what to do. The leader realised the onus was on him to make a move and went to lunge at Spydra not knowing at all what it was that he was dealing with. With a deft a move Spydra grabbed the leader's wrist of his outstretched right arm and with a wicked wrist lock made him yelp as he was brought to his knees.

“OWW OWW OWW FUCK!” Screamed the burly thug in disbelief at his predicament. The black clad young woman weighed much less than him and yet ….

The sidekick to the leader's left went to aid his stricken comrade only to have a face full of web flung at him causing him to fall wailing in panic. The other sidekick looked on in horror at what had just happened and begun to flee.

“Oh god my eyes !!” flailed the thug with the web in his face. Spydra suspected it might sting a little based on Lucy's complaints during their sparring practice, a just reward for his role in the proceedings.

“GUYS! Fuck her uuuuooooooowwwwwwww,” the leader managed to squeal, his pain evident in his voice.

“Scram or things will only get worse” Spydra said confidently to the thug who was starting to wipe the white sticky mass clinging to this face.

The thug, his eyes watering caught sight of his other comrade who was running away down the maintenance track into the distance and set off in pursuit, eager to get away from whatever it was that had just happened.

“Get back here you fuckers!” the leader said before trying clumsily to reach into his jacket with his left hand.

“Shit, the gun!” Wickes warned aloud, seeing what the man was trying to do. Without hesitating Wickes reached out with his foot and gave the leader a harsh shove with his foot and …

“No wai.....” Spydra began to protest as she saw the thug falling forward and …

“Ughhhh” groaned the big burly thug as his head struck the ground, knocking him out.

Spydra had managed to release her grip on the man as he fell, preventing him from incurring a nasty injury to his right arm but now he was out cold.

“You shouldn't have done that, I had it under control,” Spydra said, annoyed, looking at the prone thug, his body limp.

“He was going for his gun, is he okay?” Wickes asked with a shrug.

“I think so, out cold though,” Spydra said, checking on the still man.

“Shit Wickesy, what the hell have we gotten into!” Mattie said, the stress in his voice very obvious.

“I've no fucking idea. Who IS this piece of shit anyway? What the fuck is going on Mattie?” Wickes said, gesturing at the prone unconscious man that Spydra was checking on at his feet.

Spydra glanced between Wickes and Mattie from behind her mask as she patted the prone thug down for his wallet and the gun inside his jacket.

“I don't understand. First the cops and now this ...” Mattie said nervously, his eyes betraying his confusion and fear.

“Yeah, I heard about the cops. What happened?” demanded Wickes.

“They thought I had lifted some car sound systems last night. But I told them I was here with you, even told them that Webs were here. I thought it would help alibi me out ...” Mattie explained glancing at Spydra.

Spydra looked up at Wickes and Mattie, head cocked inquisitively.

“Wait. Did you tell the police WHY I was here last night?” Spydra asked.

“Only that you wanted to know something from Wickes. I'm not a total rat, I didn't say what,” Mattie said defensively.

“Mattie, this isn't your fault,” Wickes said as he observed Spydra open the prone man's wallet.

“Well this man isn't police,” Spydra said with relief as she eyed the man's drivers license in one pocket of his wallet and a membership card to an auto workers union. This man worked at the local engine factory she concluded.

“Do you think it was Cruz or Flynn who sent them?” Mattie wondered.

“I've not even begun to look for them yet. They can't possibly know unless one of your friends told....” Spydra began before Wickes cut her off.

“No way, none of my guys have got time for Cruz. It must be something else,” Wickes said sharply.

“But then, that means the police ...” Spydra said, faltering as she understood what had happened.

“I wondered why it didn't make sense. If Cruz and Flynn knew I had talked then they wouldn't need to ask me what I told you. Someone is worried about what you are digging into. And that someone must be linked to the cops. It's the only way that what Mattie told the cops today can link back to these guys,” Wickes reasoned.

To Spydra that made sense but if there were dirty cops in the mix she was going to have to be very careful in how she was going to proceed.

“I need to know what this man knows,” Spydra said, hands falling to her waist as she looked down at the prone thug.

“Uh uh – I ain't roughing up some guy,” Wickes said, his hands rising defensively.

“Who said anything about you? You can get out of here if you want. I've got this,” Spydra said confidently, her hand gesturing off into the distance indicating Wickes and Mattie could go.

Wickes looked down at the nearly 300 pound slab of muscle on the floor and back at the smaller frame of Spydra. She was lightly muscled, toned and in shape, her suit leaving little to doubt but the mismatch between prisoner and interrogator seemed more than obvious.

“Yeah, right,” scoffed Mattie, nursing his bruised hand.

“We'll see. Anyway, I'm not going to be roughing him up!” Spydra quipped as she glanced about the area they were in.

“What are you up to?” Wickes asked with suspicion. He seemed to imagine the face of the woman beneath the mask slyly concocting some evil torment for their prisoner.

“Let's see how our friend deals with heights!” Spydra said mischievously.

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

Neil Danford, an operator at the local engine factory prided himself on his well built body. The years manhandling large engine components and working out at the gym had gifted him with an impressive body but now his body hurt.

In the darkness Neil could sense his ankles were aching inside some kind of restraints. His hooded head felt bloated with his own blood that pumped painfully inside his temples and his arms swayed freely above .. no wait … below ...

“Oh FUCK!!” Neil wailed in panic as he suddenly realised he was suspended by his ankles and …

“Oh welcome back, Neil,” said a female voice. The voice of the woman in black!

Swaying in the air Neil was in a panic as he realised he was in peril. How high up was he? How securely was he being held?

“Woah woah woah what the fuck .. please ….” Neil pleaded, his arms flailing.

“Calm down, you really don't want to fall from up here,” Spydra replied.

“Fall?! Where am I ?! Oh god!!” Neil said still flailing.

“You remember the bridge?” Spydra teased.

Neil's imagination went into overload. There he was, dangling from the top of the bridge who knew how many feet above the railway line and the maintenance track below. There was concrete, steel rails, hard railway sleepers and rocky ballast waiting below to provide the hard sudden stop if he fell.

“Oh god oh god oh god,” Neil said in a panic as his mind figured it all out.

“So, you wanted to know what I wanted from Wickes?” Spydra asked.

“Yes yes yes,” Neil responded eagerly.

“And who wants to know?” Spydra asked.

“A message, I got a message, on the burner. I get messages on the burner phone I keep in my locker at work,” Neil blabbed, dangling in the air.

“Who sends them?” Spydra asked from beyond Neil's personal hooded blackness.

“I dont know, someone in The Club!” Neil pleaded.

“The club, what's that?” Spydra asked.

“I'm not in it, but, but it's meant to be good. You do favours and The Club is meant to help you when you need it. I do enough favours and I can get in,” Neil blabbered.

“So someone wanted you to do this favour, to find out what I have been up to!?” Spydra pressed.

“Yes yes yes …. they told us about Mattie and Wickes. The message told me to strong-arm Wickes and find out what you want. If I did this they'd let me in,” Neil continued.

“What sort of people are in this club?” Spydra asked.

“I … I don't know. Union guys maybe, management, doctors, lawyers … I … I don't know,” Neil stammered nervously.

“Police?” Spydra suggested giving the lines holding the man up a light jolt.

“Maybe, maybe, yeah, but I've not met any club people, I've been on the outside,” Neil yelped as the subtle drop in height made him feel more insecure than ever.

“Well you can tell the people at The Club that thanks to you I now know more than before,” Spydra said seriously.

“Please, I can't do that,” Neil pleaded.

“Yes you can, because now I know who YOU are. I know where you live and I know where you work,” Spydra said as she reached down to the hood and with one firm yank ripped it from his head.

Neil was suddenly returned to the world, it was still dark yet he was bathed in the orange glow of the maintenance track lighting but …

“You bitch, you tricked me!!” Neil ranted as he suddenly realised his outstretched arms were mere inches from being able to touch the ground, suspended upside down from the basketball hoop above him. His interrogation hadn't been conducted from the bridge high above him at all.

Spydra played out the web line holding Neil's feet until his hands planted on to the ground and was lowered on to his hands and knees. Giving the line a firm yank Spydra set Neil's feet free and he rose nervously.

“Your gun I've disposed of but here is your wallet. Now go send the message,” Spydra said, looking up at the big burly man, his face still bright red from the blood that had accumulated in his brain.

“Okay okay, I'm going I'm going,” Neil said as he trotted away.

Spydra observed Neil vanish into the distance then beckoned to Wickes and Mattie to come out of hiding.

“Was that wise, letting him go?” Wickes asked as he looked in the direction Neil had run.

“I think it will touch a nerve when he replies to this club he spoke of, it may make things happen,” Spydra replied. She seemed sure that any kind of reaction might be useful to her finding out more about the club that Neil mentioned.

“Well, I owe you one Webs, they were going to beat the crap out of me, maybe worse,” Wickes said.

“If you really want to repay me point me at Cruz or Flynn,” Spydra responded.

“OK, I'll ask around. It will be nice to put this on those douche-bags and take the heat off of us,” Wickes offered.

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

William Kohl slumbered alongside his wife in the darkened room of the master bedroom. A clock ticked the seconds by as the minute hand swung close to half past three in the morning. Suddenly the cell phone resting on William's bedside table began to whirr on vibrate. Kohl slowly began to awaken and his hand reached out to the phone as he slowly pulled himself up in his bed.

Rubbing his eyes Kohl saw that it was Sargent Bishop who was calling him. Kohl flipped open his phone and answered with a sigh.

“Yes?” Kohl asked. He was polite having expected the call. Slowly sliding out of bed Kohl managed to rise without disturbing his wife in her deep sleep.

“We just got word. The woman in black, she intercepted our …,” Bishop began.

“INTER -” began Kohl angrily before checking himself and lowering his tone to a hush, “intercepted? How the hell!” Kohl seethed.

“We sent three candidates from the plant. They were about to question Wickes about the woman in black when she appeared again,” Bishop explained.

“Well? Did we learn ANYTHING?” Kohl demanded finding himself having to rein in his temper once again.

“Whoever this woman in black is she seems to be well trained. She took out our three men single handedly,” Bishop explained reluctantly.

“She took them out? You told me these men could handle themselves! Who the hell is this woman?” Kohl groaned.

“Well we know she isn't Ashley Hill. We kept a watch on her like you asked. She stayed in all night, I checked,” Bishop replied.

“Dammit, we are getting nowhere, we need to stop the rot,” Kohl said.

“Everything is in place just as you wanted, Taylor convinced Flynn. All you need to do is give the word,” Bishop said.

“Fine, we have to do it. We are going to get rid of Cruz and that meddling reporter. Put them in a room together and have Taylor finish the job. And as for those candidates, BURN them. No further contact, understand,” Kohl said.

“Consider it done,” Bishop replied calmly and then hung up.

Kohl looked guiltily back at his wife who continued to sleep peacefully and then returned back to bed. It was going to be hard to sleep knowing what it was he had just done, ordering a killing.

= = = = = = = = = = = =

[Abductorenmadrid]

= = = = = = = = = = = =
THURSDAY

The glass of orange juice was finished, the triangle piece of toast trapped between her teeth. Erin scooped her car keys and prepared for the new day ahead. Slinging her bag over her shoulder Erin walked up to the front door of her apartment and swung it open before locking it behind her. With a quick crunch the last of the toast was gone and Erin walked to the elevator ready to descend. The previous night Erin had met Spydra and the reporter was eager to tell her news to Barnes, her boss.

Erin had for some time been investigating rumours of some spirited vigilante and Barnes had tried to be supportive of her work. The little excursion to Mrs Watanabe's store was one such occasion but there had been more before that. So, to suddenly have had the secretive figure in black just suddenly appear before her was a dramatic turn of events.

Erin entered the elevator and punched in the button to take her to the parking lot below. It was quite early and so her trip downwards was unhindered by other inhabitants of the building. How was she going to explain to Barnes that she got no photos, no notes, nothing except the name Cruz? And was he going to believe her that this mysterious woman was able to climb sheer walls and .. what was it .. make a web? Well whatever it was she had a small sample of the goo in a small pot in her handbag and hoped she could get some answers from it.

Erin's busy mind whirred as the elevator pinged and she stepped out in the basement parking area. Erin summonsed her keys and clicked the remote causing her car lights to flash their happy greeting as the doors clunked. Erin walked up to her car, oblivious to her surroundings, her mind already having completed the journey to work and placing herself squarely in front of her boss ready to tell him that her pet project had suddenly started to bear fruit.

Placing her hand on the door handle she gave it a quick tug, swinging the door towards her ready to enter. Suddenly there seemed to be a dark shadow cast over her from behind and ..

WHUMP!

Pain, darkness, silence …

“Gotcha, bitch!” Cruz scoffed with a sick grin.

With all that had passed the night before with the arrival of Spydra Erin had forgotten about the suspicious car that had followed her home from work. Now she was paying for letting herself become distracted.

Glancing around Cruz studied his prize, the one that Flynn had told him he could take for himself. Now he had her car and he knew exactly where it was he was going to take the reporter. Popping open the trunk Cruz spied the towing rope and knew he could restrain Erin easily with it and so placed her inside and got to work.

The hog-tie was simple but was going to be effective enough for the short journey. What he had to get right though was silencing her. To his cost he had learned there were many stop lights to contend with on the trip and having a noisy passenger protesting in the trunk wasn't going to do. With that in mind he removed Erin's ankle boots from her feet and drew off her fresh white socks. They were still clean and fresh having been on her feet for a brief time. In her unconscious state Erin barely made a sound of protest as the thug stuffed her mouth with the socks before taping her lips shut with some duct tape he found inside the car's repair kit.

“Time to go, bitch,” Cruz grunted as he slammed down the trunk lid sealing Erin inside.

= = = = = = = = = = = =

Ashley Hill sat listening to the morning briefing which was being conducted by Sargent Bishop. His words melted into her mind as she concentrated on other things. Who had followed her home and kept her bottled up in her apartment? The presence of her watcher had discouraged her nocturnal investigations out on her bike as the black leather clad vigilante but using the internet from home had also led to some breaks in her investigations. Donny Vance, the man who owned the BWM that she had rescued Neyra Thornton from had a friend called Flynn. Searching news articles Ashley made a connection between the two men.

Ashley in her role as vigilante had discovered from some youths at the skate park where the BWM had been dumped that the driver had called Donny, the owner and mentioned something about 'Flintshop'. Had he actually heard 'Flynn's Shop' Ashley wondered. If so perhaps that was where Cruz, the driver was hiding out. If Ashley had confidence in her colleagues within the department she would find a way to pass this information out but suspecting they themselves were somehow involved in everything that was going on forced her to hold back. Getting her hands on Cruz would have to come another way if she had an opportunity, in the meantime she was more focused on the body of her father about to be dug up at the building site.

“....and finally Lamb and Hill. I want you two to focus on traffic enforcement. The road works on the freeway has caused people to use parts of town as a way to cut around the delays. Only things are starting to get a bit snarled up out there and worse people aren't minding their speed,” Bishop explained as he referred to his notes.

Ashley and Lamb glanced at each other then at Bishop and gave a nod.

“OK, assignments are done, get to it and stay safe,” Bishop said, concluding his briefing.

Ashley considered her assignment a blessing. Traffic duty meant patrolling the streets and she would be able to catch a glimpse of the resting place of her father and the incriminating evidence she had been told would be there.

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

Laura took a deep breath as she prepared to enter the building housing the offices of The Bugle. Now was make or break time for Spydra. Was Laura going to be facing accusations of being the heroine or not? She had dreaded this confrontation ever happening but knew one day it might. Laura had worked with Erin for only a few days but appearing before her as Spydra too had been risky.

Luckily with coaching from Lucy and Selena the young heroine had been told how to change the cadence of her voice giving it some distinctiveness of its own. But on top of that Neyra had told Laura there was a natural change within her when she put on the mask. That mere act alone put some daylight between the characters of her two existences. Laura was meek and honest to the point of being transparent, a trait that seemed to endear her to their more hardened friends, Lucy, Lisa, Selena, McGee and Supergirl herself. Once the mask was on though Laura became more assertive, the anonymity emboldening her, her presence growing beyond her physical stature.

“It'll be fine, it'll be fine, it'll be fine ...” Laura said to herself as she tried to establish her walk into the office, trying to look confident like nothing was wrong but without it looking forced. Yeah, this was going to be easier than taking candy from ...

“GRANGER?” called someone from the conference room.

The morning meeting was underway, all the reporters were gathered inside the conference room to get their assignments as usual. Usually Laura didn't need to attend, she was a junior member of the team, barely even a staff member. This time though one of the reporters was leaning out the doorway of the conference calling to Laura.

Laura pointed to herself and mouthed “me?” to see a confirmatory nod in reply. Laura's heart raced suddenly sensing something was wrong.

Laura entered into the glass walled conference room, all eyes on her only to see Barnes at the front of the room by the whiteboard with a concerned look on his face.

“Laura, have you seen Erin?” asked Barnes.

Laura's mind quickly segregated what she knew from what she was supposed to know. Spydra saw Erin late last night, Laura saw her at the end of the working day yesterday.

“The last time I saw her was yesterday evening at the end of my day, Mr Barnes. Is everything ok?” Laura replied, her anxiety for all to see.

“She's not turned in this morning and isn't answering calls on her cell or at home,” Barnes said anxiously.

“Oh?” replied Laura. Her eyes darted side to side as she tried to understand what it meant.

“Did she tell you if she was working on anything specific today?” Barnes asked. The young photographer had been paired with Erin for most of the week and he hoped perhaps the naturally talented redhead had picked up on what the occasionally headstrong Erin might be up to.

“When I left her she was talking about the police being difficult over the shooting incident and the abduction case,” Laura said thoughtfully, feeling all the eyes in the room settling on her.

“I got a text a message from her saying she thought she was being followed. Do you know anything about that?” Barnes pressed.

Laura's mind visibly whirred as she realised that Erin had asked Spydra if it was her who had followed her home.

“Fuck!” Laura mouthed to herself. Had she been more focused on Erin's needs and not show-boating as Spydra she might have picked up on …

“Laura?” Barnes said, seeing that Laura obviously knew something. Snatching the redhead out of her thoughts he saw her look back at him seemingly guiltily.

“Flynn. There was a guy called Flynn who I thought was watching us at the Casino hearing yesterday morning. That's all I can think of,” Laura suggested. While it was true it was only a suspicion he might be involved with what was happening with Erin. At any rate, putting attention on him might bring Cruz into the spotlight and she knew for sure he was the one who took Neyra.

“Right, you lot, get out. You have your assignments. Laura, I need you to do me a favour,” Barnes said as he gestured to the others to leave.

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

Erin slowly woke from her daze. The corner of her mouth was wet from her own drool and her head felt sore. Her thigh ached where she was laying on her side on a hard floor, her slightly pronounced hip bone pressing her skin into the belt of her smart trousers.

Erin's eyes fluttered as she tried to focus on her surrounding and bit by bit her body began to report to her fuzzy mind what was going on. She was in a plain featureless room, the walls of which seemed to be ply-board. There was a door, also covered with more board and a plain domed light above her.

The sharp pain in Erin's head was pronounced and with a cautious exploratory finger Erin felt for the source of the sensation on the back of her head. She winced as she felt the slightly matted blood in her hair and the cut that had been left on her scalp by the blow that had knocked her out.

“Bastard!” winced Erin angrily as she explored the extent of her injury.

Pulling herself upright Erin quickly discovered the discomfort in her ankle she had begun to sense was caused by a chain that was padlocked tightly around it. That's when she realised her shoes and socks had been taken off at some point for some reason.

“No, no, no, no” protested Erin as she traced the chain and found it well anchored to a metal ring embedded in concrete in the floor.

Erin gave the chain a tug to no avail then began to consider how to get her foot out of the loop holding her prisoner. Tugging, twisting, pulling and writhing Erin failed to get her foot free, her skin starting to get pinched and bruised by the hard metal. Erin then patted her pockets for anything she might have on her that could help but found nothing.

Erin's heart ran as she considered what might be her fate. Who had her and why? And what was their plan for her once they were done. She had sent Barnes a message that she thought she been followed, perhaps that might help her. Or, perhaps Spydra? The mysterious vigilante who had visited her the previous night might find her. Someone had to or else …

Erin rose to her feet and hobbled to the door, restrained by the chain and pounded on the plain wood surface.

“LET ME OUT! SOMEONE, PLEASE! HELP ME! CAN ANYONE HEAR ME? PLEASE!!” Erin yelled out from the top of her lungs.

Beyond the old store's walls nothing could be heard of Erin's frantic pleas for help.


= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

Wickes followed up on his promise to help Spydra find Cruz or Flynn and had been calling in favours to find them. Checking in on former friends and hanging out at their old haunts Wickes began to pick through rumour and fact and get an idea of where the former leader of his pack had gone.

Cruz, Flynn, Flynn, Cruz, the names seem to run into one another whenever conversations about them began. Worse though, drugs seemed to also be synonymous with the pair. Cruz had been ambitious and ditched his posse of friends as he had entered the seedy world that Flynn had introduced him to. Cruz wanted to be the big shot drugs dealer, with girls, money, cars and status but he had started at the bottom. His world for now was feeding low life addicts and losers and for that he led a pitiful existence but ever led on by the promise of something bigger and better.

Wickes was stood to one side of the pinball machine as another young man, in his early twenties, bashed at the flippers, keeping the metal ball whizzing across multi-coloured surface. The machine pinged with bright colours and sounds as the youth playing his game worked his magic with the controls.

“Rumour is Flynn was pushing out into Brookside, was gonna use Cruz. Why you askin' ?” the youth asked as he bashed the buttons on the flanks of the machine.

“You know how it is, shit's slow, money too. You know I used to run with Cruz,” Wickes said, his eyes watching the metal ball ping around the pinball machine.

“Yeah, I remember. You think Cruz can get you a way in huh? Cool!” the young man said, his face focused on his game.

“So, you think you know where I might find him, he's been kinda scarce,” Wickes pressed, trying to sound only somewhat interested.

“Man, I dunno. Flynn isn't on my speed dial, you know,” the youth said as one of his precious spherical metal lives vanished between the two flippers. “FUCK! You're puttin' me off my game, man!” scoffed the youth.

“Hey chill,” Wickes said as he slammed some change down on the edge of the machine, trying to buy some good will. “Come on, do me a favour, you must know of some way I can find him,”

The youth's eyes glanced at the coins then up at Wickes before speaking. “Well, there was this one thing. Usually on the weekends my buddies and I go up out of town, take a friend's pickup truck. Only this weekend we couldn't go. The guy who owns the truck said he was moving some wood or something for Flynn to some store. He was going to do some renovations or something. I guess he might still be there, assuming it's the right guy,”

“Cool, did he say where it was?” Wickes asked, trying to play things slow.

“Yeah, sure, let me think,” began the young man as he slotted another coin into the machine, ready to play again.

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

Erin was sat in a corner of her cell contemplating her fate. She was a little thirsty now and wondered what would happen to her if she had just been left there to die. Suddenly though her fear of being left alone was overwhelmed by the new sensations that came with the sound of someone arriving inside the building she was in. The sound of a key and a lock could be heard and then her cell door opened. Entering, a plastic grocery bag in his arms was a young man in jeans, t-shirt and leather jacket.

“You're awake!” grunted Cruz as he looked at Erin with contempt, setting the bag down in the corner.

Erin glared silently at her captor, the one from the dashcam video that had witnessed him trying to take Neyra. Erin wondered what to say. The information that gave her some power over the young man also might put her in danger. If she just announced she had a name to go with his face her life might be over quickly. Cruz could see Erin's mind working overtime and sneered. He knew she would recognise his face, it was her newspaper after all that had featured his appearance in video form in the news.

“Yeah, it's ME, BITCH!” Cruz said angrily.

Erin looked away, trying to avoid eye contact with Cruz and with it whatever anger he had for her.

“What do you want?” Erin ventured, frightened of what it was he might say.

“You're gonna wish I had got Neyra! But you and that whore on the bike had to get in the way, didn't you! I saw you, throwin' your shit at my car, ” Cruz said as he walked up to his prisoner. Standing over her he felt powerful and Erin did nothing to destroy that impression.

“You don't want to make this worse. Someone is going to identify you. What do you want to be on the hook for, just a failed abduction or this? Or worse?!” Erin said.

“No one is going to finger me! If the were they'd be looking for me. They don't even have a name!” Cruz sneered.

Erin weighed the percentages in her mind. If Cruz valued not being named yet then perhaps tearing down the illusion of his anonymity might make him reconsider things. Erin prayed that the name that Spydra had given her was right else it meant she had nothing on the man in front of her.

“WHAT? SAY IT!” Cruz said spotting Erin's train of thought thundering through her mind.

Erin snapped and gambled with her life.

“Fine then, Cruz! We were holding back! The police think your name is Cruz. They asked to keep that information embargoed,” Erin lied. The name was unverified from a source that wore a mask and Erin had intended on checking the story for herself before saying anything to anyone. However, faced with the situation she was in she had decided to try it.

“Shut up, shut up, shut up!” Cruz snarled, slapping Erin across the face drawing an angry glare from her.

“You're finished. They know your name. They know about Flynn. They know about Donald Vance! You're the man in the middle and they know who you are!” Erin said accusingly. Throwing those names into the mix she could see that her research might have paid off, Spydra's last minute piece of info linking the main players together.

“What the fuck have people been telling you?” Cruz said spinning away in disbelief.

“Look, I can help you but you have to turn yourself in before this goes too far. If you show the police you are just small fry then perhaps ...” Erin pleaded before being cut off.

“Who's fucking small fry! I'm going places! They are going to give me a.....” Cruz began before stopping himself short. He mentioned a 'they', now the reporter knew for sure there was more than just him involved.

“What? What is it?” Erin asked, seeing Cruz look back at her with contempt again.

“Oh you're good but you're guessing. You don't know ANYTHING!” Cruz said, walking tight circles, hands on his head in panic.

Erin realised she had to do some serious convincing if she was going to make Cruz think that harming her was a bad move.

“This place, I bet it's Donny's, isn't it. He is into property and stuff and Flynn uses him to help him clean his money. Drug money flows into property and later, back out it comes, nice and clean. Can't you see, the police will protect you to get at people like them?” Erin stammered nervously.

“The police? Shut up!” Cruz said, his mind whirling as to what to do with this pain in the ass reporter.

Erin's mind ran on overtime trying to see why the trio of Vance, Flynn and Cruz were bound together so strongly.

“Is that why Donald loaned you his BMW? Because he is on the hook to Flynn?” Erin probed again.

“This can't be happening! Who knows? Who the fuck have you been talking to?” Cruz snarled.

“Is this what you are in it for? Going to feed Vance more drug money to flip more real estate?” Erin pushed seeing that she was on the right lines.

Cruz could sense his world ending. He was linked to two lots of kidnapping, Thornton and the reporter. This was going to cause him to face a lot of trouble with the cops. It had meant to be an easy job, just keep Neyra locked up for a few days and then pick up his reward, a nice home over in Brookside until he could get his own little drug network set up.

“Wait, the house!” thought Cruz to himself. Flynn said someone was going to buy the house for him and flip it later and make a tidy profit. Was this a deal that Flynn and Donny were working together?

Cruz looked back at the reporter who in his eyes, along with that meddlesome bitch on the bike had ruined everything. The woman on the bike wasn't here though but the nosey reporter certainly was.

“You've FUCKED EVERYTHING UP!” Cruz snarled as he grabbed Erin by the hair, his hand rising, preparing to strike.

“Wait, I can help you! I can mediate for you with the police. Come in with me and....” Erin managed to say, her words somehow just enraging Cruz rather than calming him.

Erin gasped, her eyes flinching as she realised what was about to happen, the young man turning violent rapidly.

SLAP

“Gnghhnooooo ….”

SLAP

“....stooopfffff.....”

SLAP

Cruz gave Erin a cruel shove away sending Erin falling backwards, her hands rising to shield her face as she adopted a foetal position on the floor again.

“You don't know nothing!” Cruz said defensively spinning away, his hot blood pumping through his veins.

Erin sensed the attack for now was over and pulled herself back up clutching her cheek while wiping her tear moistened eyes. There was a pause as Erin thought carefully about what to say or do next while Cruz paced anxiously in a circle to one side of the room. He seemed rattled, dangerous, and in that moment Erin considered the worst.

“Are you going to kill me?” Erin asked in a low voice, her eyes averted.

Cruz glared back at her his mind weighing that question. Killing her might make some problems go away, but only temporarily. Flynn had ordered him to take the reporter and teach her a lesson but perhaps Flynn didn't realise how much she already knew. Should he clarify what it was he should do with Erin now she had revealed what she knew.

“I don't know. I am going out, there are some supplies in the bag,” Cruz said gruffly. Turning around Cruz pulled open the door and slammed it behind himself, securing it once more.

Erin shook in fear as the angry young man left, the sound of the slamming door ripping through her nerves. Slowly she drew her knees up into her body and looked towards the grocery bag across the other side of the room with tear soaked eyes.

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =


Laura tried to stay calm but was failing. She returned to The Bugle offices in a car loaned to her by another junior reporter and entered the building, walking with pace. Once inside she sought out Barnes for more instructions. Laura had looked for Erin at her apartment but after confirming she and her car were missing Laura had been asked to check a few other places before visiting the central hospital and checking for her there.

Laura saw Barnes inside the glass walled conference room with someone she didn't recognise. The second man was dressed smartly in a shirt and seemed to be explaining something on some presentation on a screen. Laura went up to one of the other reporters who was at their desk in a bid to find out what was going on.

“Hey, here are you keys,” Laura opened, placing the keys to the borrowed car on the desk.

“Oh, thanks, any luck finding Erin?” asked the reporter as he typed at his keyboard.

“No, and I guess nothing has changed here. Do you know who is in with Mr Barnes?” Laura asked, glancing between her colleague and the pair of men in the conference room.

“No, nothing new here. I am not sure who the guy is with the boss but I think we are expecting the police to drop in, perhaps that's them,” the reporter said, barely looking away from his screen.

“OK, well, Mr Barnes asked me to see him when I got back. He's not going to be mad if I go in there, right?” Laura asked.

“No, it's ok, I'm pretty sure he is waiting on you to get back,” the reporter said.

“OK,” Laura said as she moved away and went up to the conference room door only to see Barnes beckon to her to come in.

Laura swung open the door and entered and gently closed the door behind her as Barnes' guest turned to face her.

“Laura, no luck then?” Barnes said despondently.

“No, I am sorry. I tried all the places you suggested, even the hospital. There is no sign of her anywhere. Even her car is missing from the apartment block,” Laura explained.

“I am expecting a detective to come in soon. After that message Erin left me I hope the police take this seriously,” Barnes said.

“Oh, you are not with the police?” Laura said, looking to Barnes' guest. She had hoped he was the detective Barnes was waiting for.

“Oh sorry, no, this is Raymond Little, he is a firearms and ballistics expert from out of state,” Barnes said apologetically.

“Hi,” Laura offered out her arm and the pair shook hands for just a moment.

“Ray, Laura was the one that turned up the tape we've been discussing. She was helping Erin when the story came up,” Barnes explained, revealing to Laura Ray's reason for being there.

“It's a pity Miss Tate is not able to go over this with us,” Raymond said.

At any other time Laura would have loved to hear Raymond's input into the story but with Erin missing her attention was elsewhere. Where should she go next? And who should she speak to? Being Spydra was one thing but with nowhere to be pointed at she felt powerless.

“Laura, I know you think you need to do more but right now everything is being done. We've put feelers out to all our contacts. The police are aware and you've checked the hospital. While you are here you can help us out with this, it's what Erin would want to do if she was here,” Barnes said wisely, reading Laura's mind somehow.

Laura blinked and looked anxiously back out towards the exit of the offices and felt lost. Being inside doing nothing felt wrong yet beyond the doorway was just emptiness with nowhere to go and no X to mark the spot where Erin was.

“What do you want me to do?” Laura said reluctantly.

“We are going to go over the shooting recording. I'm going to run you through the potential sequences and the consequences and the likelihood of them being right. It was only six shots so there are not too many permutations,” Raymond said.

“I'm just a temp photographer. Do you really need me for this?” Laura replied with a shrug of the shoulders.

“Well, I often like to act out the shooting to help describe what is happening. Who do you want to be, police officer or perp?” joked Raymond.

Laura let out a half smile but her heart and mind were somewhere else.

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =


Officer Ashley Hill and her partner, officer Lamb had been patrolling the edge of town doing traffic enforcement duties but had cut back to get some food. Ashley had been driving and chose her route carefully, getting to pass by the building site of the civic center and her father's buried remains. Machinery had taken down layers of soil, carving out what would be the underground parking but the old concrete foundation was still partially there.

Ashley noted the construction's progress and knew it would be soon that her father would be uncovered along with the incriminating ID belonging to William Kohl and she had every intention of being there when it was. Now though having finished eating their lunch both officers Hill and Lamb meandered their way back to their assigned area ready to resume the afternoon shift of traffic duty.

Unknown to the two officers Wickes had also moved off of his usual ground and consulting a piece of paper was now stood at a whitewashed windowed store front. The faded store's name barely visible, the wide glass front had an old “Closing Down” sign and a “For Lease” sign next to it. Cupping his hands to the glass Wickes peered intently inside to see the store front was empty. Wickes frowned and made his way around the side and into the alleyway at the back. Counting the back doorways Wickes found the storeroom entrance to the store he sought and noted the shiny fresh padlock keeping it secured.

Wickes looked about himself and then down to the floor. From under the metal door and spread a little into the alleyway there was tell tale pieces of wood turnings and shavings. His contact had told him that Flynn had planned doing some renovation work at a property of his. Was this it? Realising he might be in the right place Wickes recoiled from the door. This was the best lead he had for Spydra, and with it his debt to her would be repaid.

Giving the padlock one last tug in frustration Wickes turned to leave when …

“Hey, YOU !” called officer Hill from the window of her patrol car. Having been put onto Wickes by Mattie the previous day she was keen to learn more about the 'other' woman in black that had been marauding the city.

Lamb looked on speechless. He knew that his corrupt circle of friends had bypassed his police colleagues and had gotten to Wickes already the previous night. He had put Wickes out of his mind but now, confronted by this unexpected situation he had to act out that he was still interested in the young man and his ability to confirm Mattie's alibi.

“Well? Go for him on foot!” Ashley yelled, she wanted to cut Wickes off.


Lamb bailed from the car and chased after Wickes who took flight seeing the officers after him. Ashley turned on the lights and siren of her patrol car and set off to go around the block and try to head off the escaping Wickes.

Wickes, with his street instincts knew how to break the line of sight between him and his pursuers and he certainly had experience in knowing how patrol cars could be used to get ahead. By avoiding the long straight pathways and staying in place when he had to he managed to outwit his overstretched opponents.

Ashley drove slowly past yet another rat run alley exit, blue lights on, sirens off, as she looked eagerly for Wickes. Eventually Lamb emerged with a shrug having lost Wickes somewhere within the warren of walkways of the block.

“No sign?” Ashley asked her partner.

“I think he's double backed,” Lamb sighed, looking back the way he came.

“What was he doing out here?” Ashley wondered aloud.

“I dont know. Go round the block again, I am going to check on that shop and make sure it is secure,” Lamb said.

Ashley nodded thoughtfully and pulled away again, ready to do another lap of the block. Lamb turned around and walked purposefully back the way he came. Returning to the rear of the store where they had seen Wickes playing with the padlocked door Lamb decided to call it in.

“Dispatch, this is 10-20,” Lamb said into his radio as he approached the large metal doorway to the stockroom at the back of the store.

“10-20, dispatch, go ahead” crackled the radio in reply.

“Yeah, dispatch,” Lamb began as he rattled the padlock in the metal eyes securing it, “I need you to do a notification for a keyholder. They may want to check their property, 10-20, over.” Lamb explained.

“Roger 10-20, go ahead with the location,” the dispatcher replied.


As Ashley continued to do her lap around the block looking intently for Wickes she heard Lamb read off the address on the radio. Moments later Ashley heard details being read back to Lamb by the dispatcher.

The keyholder's name was FLYNN!

Lamb winced. Of all the places it had to be one of Flynn's? The connections between people were getting stronger and stronger. Mattie, Wickes, Cruz, Flynn, the woman in black too. Now Wickes was messing with one of Flynn's places? Did the woman in black send him here after speaking with him the night before?

“Dispatch, 10-20, yeah if you could get the keyholder just to check it out and get back to us if there is a problem. If there is we already know who we need to speak to,” sighed Lamb.

“10-20, dispatch, understood,” the radio crackled in reply.

“Hey, partner,” Ashley called innocently from her drivers side window as she saw Lamb backing away from the store.

Lamb looked at Ashley, his face ghostly pale. Ashley pretended not to notice but she could see his guilt and fear. Ashley's mind drew the lines that spanned the dots. The other woman in black was seemingly closing in on Cruz, Flynn and maybe even Donny too but what was her motivation for doing so? And did she know that their corruption had tentacles that reached through the police department?

“Yeah … yeah … I'm coming …. we should get back to the traffic. We'll catch up with Wickes some other time,” Lamb said, spinning away from the door, trying to act like it wasn't important. The pacing of his words though revealed his uneasiness.

“Sure,” replied Ashley innocently. Assuming she could avoid being tailed she was certainly going to be checking this place out after hours as her black clad motorbike riding alter ego.

Ashley knew now that she was on the cusp of being able to lay her hands on someone she could get leverage on. Cruz was on the wrong side of the law and had links to those who were supposed to enforce it inside the insidious club.

= = = = = = = = = = = = = =

Raymond Little, Rory Barnes, Laura and Chris the deputy editor stood inside the glass walled conference room around the table. Raymond was a consultant who specialised in ballistics and often offered qualified expert testimony at criminal trials.

“We need the medical examiners report to confirm it but if those two bullet wounds in each suspects bodies are grouped you can assume the opening four shots were by the police,” Raymond said.

“But, the two final shots?” Barnes said with puzzlement.

“If they had been fired by the suspects the officers would have kept firing. You would have had another group of shots from the officers to subdue them,” Raymond said, shaking his head.

Laura who had been a passive actress as they had role played the various permutations of the shootout finally plucked up the courage to speak.

“Are you saying the two officers double tap the suspects then put a pair of holes in a wall to make it look like the suspects had fired back? Or even suggest they fired first?” Laura said in disbelief.

“Well, the only alternative is that the opening four shots are the police and suspects firing at each other, once each, accounting for the first four rounds....” Raymond began to explain.

“And the last two shots, at the end?” Barnes asked.

“Well, you know both suspects got hit twice. If the first two rounds the police fire hit the same suspect that means from the long pause they just somehow finish the second man with two slow shots. That's really the best case for the police but it doesn't seem plausible based on what we hear. The worst case is if their first rounds hit one man each. Then it seems they just stand over the dying men and put one extra round in each of them to finish them off.” Raymond continued.

“Well, how do we tell?” Barnes asked.

“From the official ballistics reports. If those men had been lying down the bullets would be in the floorboards maybe. Grouping of wounds should give an indication they were double tapped standing up as Laura here put it, if the other scenario played out,” Raymond said glancing at Laura who realised a little of Lucy or Lisa had slipped past her lips.

“OK, look, I think between us we should write up a straight up analysis of this. We will get you to sign off on it Raymond but I want to print it. If it helps force the police into releasing a report, even if it shows us being wrong I'd rather apologise about that than not say anything,” Barnes said.

“No, I agree. We have to accept there are gaps in our knowledge but if the police released some information they wouldn't be left open to speculation,” Raymond said.

“Spoken like a true consultant. OK, lets finish this up then. Leave your analysis with me, I will get the article prepared for your approval and we will aim to get it printed in the weekend edition,” quipped Barnes.

“Sounds good,” Raymond said.

“OK, let's …. oh ...” Barnes said, his concentration broken as he looked out into the open plan office beyond the glass wall.

On the other side of the glass divide a police detective had arrived, undoubtedly to see Barnes about his missing reporter and her message he had left him about having been followed home from the evening before.

The detective's analytical eye saw Barnes, but it was Raymond Little, the ballistics expert that drew his eye more. Raymond was well known for giving evidence for either defence or prosecution and there was only one case that was of big interest in their city right now, the Brookside incident. Eyes met and conclusions were drawn; The Bugle was going hard at it to figure out what had happened in Brookside.

Laura didn't need any powers to sense the gravity of the silent encounter which would ordinarily be a harmless moment.

“This will be interesting,” Barnes said.

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

Flynn listened to his voice mail a second time to confirm what it was he heard the first time.

“Hi, this is Kelly Greesham of the Littleton City police department public relations office. This a courtesy call as part of the keyholder notification system to inform you that there was an incident at your store property at 271,Wake Street. The property appears secure but you may wish to make your own checks. For further information you can call me at ….”

Flynn ended the call to his voicemail box flipping his phone shut and slammed the steering wheel of his car with his fist.

“FUCK!” Flynn exclaimed to himself. The store no doubt contained that interfering reporter, Erin Tate and Cruz, his once reliable and rapidly-becoming-a-liability henchman.

Flynn considered his options. If he were to go to the store to check on it what might he find? What was he walking in to? A dead or beaten reporter? Was it a setup? And what sort of 'incident' had there been? And what might the consequences be if he didn't go? If his store was vulnerable to being entered and all it took was to put a padlock back on to make everything safe he might regret not going. But then again maybe the police already had Erin and were trying to lure him out into the open.

“FUCK!” Flynn exclaimed to himself again, the agony of not knowing what was going on was gnawing at him.

With a deep breath Flynn tried to think his way out of the situation. Opening his phone again Flynn dialed Cruz and waited.

The ringing tone sounded and sounded and then Flynn heard Cruz picked up.

“Cruz?” Flynn asked anxiously.

“Flynn?” Cruz asked back, nervously.

“Where are you? Are you at the place?” Flynn asked cryptically.

“No, I am not at the fucking place. I am out trying to get my head fucking right,” Cruz growled.

“What's up? What's happened?” Flynn asked, his imagination running riot. Was Cruz's stress caused by whatever the incident the police reported to him.

“She fucking knows my name, man. You wanted me to teach her a fucking lesson but she knows my name. She knows YOUR name too and about Donny as well,” Cruz said angrily.

Flynn's heart lept as he heard Cruz emotionally spiralling. This was going worse than even what Taylor had warned him about. Cruz had been dependable till now but the spectre of the woman in black and the threat of things leading firmly back to him loomed. If Flynn became a liability to his corrupt police friends they might finish him too.

“OK, ok, ok, this is what we are gonna do. You are gonna go back there and shut her up and tonight, once it is dark I am going to come over and help get rid of her, understand?” Flynn said, carefully crafting his words.

“Oh don't you fucking try and paint it pretty, just say it,” Cruz replied.

“What? What do you want me to say, Jorge?” Flynn said, resisting. The moral barrier of ordering a killing seemed to make Flynn hesitant and Cruz sensed it.

“I ain't wearing no wire, so just fucking say it. You want me to do her in? Then just fucking say it,” Cruz insisted.

“Jorge, you listen to me. I was hoping you could convince her to stay out of that other business but it's obvious she knows too much. Now what do you want? Do you want to look over your shoulder forever? Do time? Or are you gonna sort this bitch out?” Flynn said, trying to sound calm.

“Fine, I'll go back but only once it's dark and we will take care of this shit together,” Cruz said angrily.

“I'll be there,” Flynn said then hung up before Cruz could say any more.

“FUCK!” exclaimed Flynn again to himself. Now he was going to have to find a way to tell Sargent Taylor from the SWAT team what had happened.

Across town Cruz tapped and swiped at his smartphone and listened carefully. The recording app had captured the conversation perfectly. If he was going down then Flynn was going down with him.

“Don't make me use this, Flynn or you're fucked!” Cruz said bitterly.

= = = = = = = = = = = =

While Cruz had been away Erin had been pondering the lack of reply that Cruz had given her to her question about if he was going to kill her or not. Now she considered what she could do with a few plastic bottles of water, some bags of potato chips and a few candy bars. Strewing what she had onto the bare floor Erin held her head in her hands.

She considered decoys or perhaps trying to use the water as a means to electrocute her captor but the quantity of water she had was pitiful. Then she realised that her best hope wasn't the various things that Cruz had bought her but the bag that had been used to carry them all in.

Erin looked at the door that Cruz would have to enter by.

“Ok ok ok, hinges were this side, door opens that way …..” Erin said, a hand wiping her eyes of her tears as she tried to regain her composure.

Erin studied the how the door would open. She knew his eyes would see more of one side of the room at first than the other. This is where she would scatter the potato chips, perhaps making an interesting shape out of them, perhaps an arrow or something that his eyes would naturally follow. And at the end of the line where his eyes were sure to track towards she would stack the water bottles which would hopefully buy her the fraction of time she needed to get the polythene grocery bag over her captor's head. She would have to be strong, she would have to be brave, but if she could keep the bag taught to his face for long enough perhaps …..

“Oh god, can I do this?” Erin wondered as she realised that what she was contemplating was murder. Or was it self defence? No, she was going to take matters into her own hands, no one could blame her for contemplating what she was thinking of doing.

“OK, I can do this, it might be my only chance,” Erin whispered to herself.

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

Sargent Taylor and Captain Thompson from the SWAT unit stood with Sargent Bishop from the uniform division in Kohl's office, door closed. The mood was sombre.

“So I understand this correctly, this Wicke's character, the same one who is consorting with the woman in black was at the place where Flynn's man Cruz is holding that reporter?” Kohl growled.

“Yes, it doesn't seem he entered but he was there. Perhaps he doesn't know she is there,” Bishop said.

“PERHAPS? No, we end this today, in fact do it now!” Kohl barked.

“We can't, not yet,” cautioned Sargent Taylor, “Flynn says Cruz got rattled when Erin called him by name and walked to cool off. Flynn thinks Cruz is starting to flake out on him,”

“Well, can he manage him or not?” Kohl asked sternly.

“Flynn tried to convince him to take her out now and that he would go back later and help dispose of the body. We could have sent in a team before Flynn was meant to arrive and dealt with Cruz alone. Now though Cruz wants to wait for Flynn to kill Erin together,” Taylor explained.

“Hmm, he's getting cold feet,” Captain Thompson said knowingly. Cruz seemed to have been acting on orders until now but this meant Cruz wanted to ensure Flynn took part in the dirty work, an obvious lack of trust.

“I had wanted to make this a police action, raid the shop and have Cruz killed while standing over a dead reporter. If Erin is going to be alive when we arrive we will have to kill her too. That means this will be off the books, understand? Ideally we want to make it look like Cruz has killed Erin and someone has killed him. I've already assigned one our own detectives to investigate Erin's disappearance. He will make sure her murder investigation wont lead back to us,” Kohl said.

“Talking of which, he just got onto me. He went to The Bugle, the senior guy there, Barnes, he had a text he wanted to tell us about. Erin had told Barnes she was thought she had been followed last night,” Bishop said.

Kohl cast a wary glance back. She had indeed been followed in preparation to abduct her.

“Don't worry, there was nothing in there to pin it on to us. It's who our man saw at the offices while he was there that is the main problem now,” Bishop added.

“Who?” Kohl asked.

“Raymond Little, the ballistics expert,” Bishop replied, casting an eye on Thompson and Taylor.

“Oh horseshit, they've got nothing on us except that crappy audio,” Taylor protested.

“You boys have had it too easy for too long and got sloppy! Well now the shit has hit the fan. The only saving grace is that if the public stay passive we can keep this in house. But if we lose control the whole roof is going to come caving in, understand? Now nobody releases anything. Keep a rein on reports, and no one talks to the press on this. It's NO COMMENT all the way!” Kohl ranted.

“Yes sir,” the other men said in unison.

“Fine, then it is settled. Now we wait till Cruz returns to the store and then you deal with him and Erin. If we can preserve Flynn then all the better. Perhaps with Erin dead attention will move on from the Brookside case and onto her own demise.” Kohl said

“What of Ashley Hill. We had her followed thinking she was the woman in black but seeing as Ashley was being observed in her apartment while the woman in black was beating up our men trying to get to Wickes is there any point continuing?” Bishop asked.

Kohl thought for only a moment before responding. “No, I don't think that's necessary any more. Besides, we may need our manpower elsewhere, this could be a busy night!”

“Just as well the attention will be on that side of town Sir. I suspect that our other handiwork will be unearthed tomorrow,” Thompson added.

“THAT? Well thank GOD only we know about that! How we became so damned unlucky that they chose that plot of land to build that civic center on I will never know!” Kohl sighed.

Thompson thought on Kohl's words. The moment he had killed Jake Castle some twenty five years earlier had been a cold impassive one, his victim nothing more than a shadowy figure in his sniper scope. How sure they had been that the body would never be seen again. How ironic then that as part of the “big future” Kohl had foreseen for the city it would also bring with it the danger of uncovering that buried secret.

“We have the right people ready to be on hand if the construction people find anything but it's likely that the remains and your ID card will end up buried in landfill never to be seen again,” Bishop said confidently.

“Well let us hope so,” Kohl said, a weak smile forming on his face.

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =



As afternoon moved to early evening everyone seemed to have an eye on the clock. Laura had been asked by Chris the deputy editor to help tag new images for the photo library they had been updating, something that Laura was glad of to pass the time. Now and then though Laura would catch sight of Rory Barnes answer the phone and her eyes tried to read his expression, waiting to hear news of Erin. Now and then Barnes would see Laura's expectant eyes looking at him through his glass walled office and give a sad shake of the head. Laura felt powerless but if Erin had been taken just as Neyra had been by Cruz then perhaps anything Wickes had learned might help Spydra find the missing reporter.

Ashley Hill noted the time on her watch as she wrote the traffic ticket for the driver who had made an illegal turn. As the driver made their excuses and said sorry for the hundredth time their words began to merge into one in Ashley's mind. She was somewhere else, either at the construction site in time to discover her father's remains or handcuffing Kohl and leading him on a perp walk of shame in front of the news cameras. Justice was coming for him and it was her that was going to make him pay.

Erin imagined the seconds passing, trying to stay vigilant for the return of Cruz. She eyed her snack crafted diversion she had created, a feast for Cruz's eyes. Hopefully as he tried to make sense of what she had done he would be distracted enough for her to get the polythene bag over his head and suffocate him. Every now and then Erin would feel the vibration of a car passing by, stirring her back to a heightened state, only for her to drift back as she sensed she was still alone. Being focused all the time was starting to take its toll. When would he be back, Erin wondered.

Wickes looked at his watch, trying to figure out how long he had been hiding and if it was safe to come out. So far Spydra had only visited him in the late hours, he had several hours to go before darkness fell. On the other hand he knew that the day shift of the Littleton Police would soon be over. The two officers who had been intent on catching him would soon be handing on their shift to someone else and no doubt they would have other things to worry about more than him.

William Kohl rocked back in his leather office chair and rubbed his tired eyes then consulted the time. Well over twelve hours ago his words had set in motion the plan to kill two birds with one stone. Now though was the patient wait for darkness and for Cruz to walk in on Erin and then.... Well, Kohl knew that finally their parts in his life story would be over and he could go back on to his personal plan.

Jorge Cruz had been keeping his head down in some bar, slowly building a rage over some beer. How was he going to do that reporter in? Or maybe Flynn would do it? Cruz hadn't killed anyone before, had Flynn? What was she going to do? Beg and cry? Maybe she would put up a fight, make things even. Someone fighting back would help Cruz muster the inclination to do them harm. And what about Flynn? Was he just being a pussy because he was used to other people getting their hands dirty for him? It had been Flynn's idea to take Erin and teach her a lesson but the more Cruz thought on it it seemed more like he had hoped to kill her off all along. Cruz looked at the state of the light outside. Evening was coming and with darkness so would Erin's death.


= = = = = = = = = = =

Laura arrived home, her day done. She had trotted all the way from the bus stop to the front door of the modest house she shared with Neyra and eagerly let herself inside. Neyra was already home, her commute by car taking less time than Laura's ride, the black beauty making herself some herbal tea in the kitchen.

“Oh hey baby,” smiled Neyra as she heard Laura enter.

“Neyra,” Laura managed, her distress evident. With wide arms she moved up to Neyra, taking her by surprise then enveloped her.

“Hey, what's wrong?” Neyra said with a frown as she embraced Laura.

“It's Erin, she's missing,” Laura said before breaking the embrace.

“Missing? Are you sure? I mean ...” Neyra began, thinking there must be a logical explanation.

“She's gone. No one has seen her or heard from her. I went to her apartment but she isn't there and her car is missing. Barnes said she's never done anything like this before, something must be wrong,” Laura said, visibly upset.

“OK, well, have you told the police? Have they checked the hospitals?” Neyra asked, trying to keep things logical.

“Yes, but so far nothing. I missed something Erin said last night but she thought I had followed her to her apartment. It was only when our boss, Barnes said she had left him a message about being followed that I realised someone really might have been there,” Laura confessed. She was evidently feeling sorry for herself.

“OK, well what's done is done. Are there any leads?” Neyra asked, her hands falling onto Laura's shoulders keeping the shorter redheads focus on her.

“I have a feeling it has something to do with what happened to you. There just seems to always be people to do with that Cruz guy in the frame. And now that I know there is this secret club there could be any number of people in it,” Laura said.

“Well, didn't you say you were making progress with that man, Wickes?” Neyra said, cocking her head.

“Yes. I want to see him again,” Laura said confidently, her eyes looking into infinity as her mind whirred.

“Do you think he has found the people you are looking for already? Was it Flynn and Cruz you were looking for?” Neyra asked, giving Laura's shoulders a squeeze.

“Or just where they may be. I just want to get Erin back. I feel so stupid, I was so interested in getting my own message across that I didn't get everything she told me,” Laura said crossly, turning her head so she didn't have to look Neyra in the eyes as she castigated herself.

“Hey, hey, listen, you have a power that you were born with and skills that you had to learn. But to use all of them takes experience and that takes time. But even with that you can't protect all the people all the time. This is not your fault, there are others who are to blame, save your strength for them,” Neyra said, her warm wise voice trying to return Laura to the right mindset.

Laura took a deep breath as she thought. “Well, it all hinges on Wickes, he has to have something or ….”

“One step at a time. First find Wickes and then we can plan the next move,” Neyra suggested.

“I know I should be wary about being overconfident but I have seen Cruz and Flynn. If they have Erin I am sure I can deal with them,” Laura said.

“Well, seeing as though you beat up the navy seal and that Russian special forces guy during Selena's little test I guess a couple of Littleton thugs shouldn't be a problem,” Neyra replied, trying to put a brave face on things.

“I should load up on fuel. I have a feeling I will be getting through a lot of webbing tonight,” Laura said, her eyes settling on the fridge.

= = = = = = = = = = = =

Wickes returned to his usual haunt at the bridge as daylight faded and the city lights come more to the fore. He was the first one there but Mattie was soon to join him, eager to see if the mysterious woman in black would visit them again.

“Hey, Mattie,” Wickes said while making a subtle gesture with his hand.

Mattie, was listening to music that hissed in his ears through the little earbuds and tugged one out as he saw Wickes waiting for him.

“Hey Wickes. Did I miss her already?” Mattie asked.

“No man, not yet. I found what I think she is looking for though. I think I know were Cruz and Flynn have been,” Wickes said sounding upbeat.

“Sweet. What do you think she will give to have you tell her that!” Mattie said, insinuating something.

“Shut up, fool. Its US who owes HER, remember?” Wickes said, stamping out Matties inference straight away.

“I ain't no fool, I know that. But you gotta admit, that girl's got talents, right?” grinned Mattie. Although he was speaking like he had hands on experience with women Mattie secretly was looking for approval of his roving eye.

“Yeah ok, she's cute but hands off,” Wickes cautioned.

“Oh yeah, you want first crack at it?” Mattie laughed.

“It? Shut the fuck up, man. You've no idea who could be under that mask. For all you know she could be ugly as sin. Shit, she might not even be legal. Besides, you saw her take out those guys. She'd probably snap a guy's dick off if she didn't want them near her,” chuckled Wickes.

Mattie's playful grin vanished as he remembered how Spydra had hauled his attacker up, upside down from the basketball hoop by his ankles by whatever that thick white line was she seemed to be able to just conjure up.

“What do you think that white stuff is that she throws around? Is it like a spid ….. oh Spydra,” Mattie began to say as he realised.

“Yeah, you ain't no fool,” scoffed Wickes, mirroring Mattie's own words.

“Do you think it's the suit. It's the stuff in the bottles on her belt right? It must be the suit that lets her climb around n stuff too,” Mattie speculated.

“Look man, I don't know how she does what she does. Maybe she's an alien. Maybe she's Supergirl's little sister. Maybe she's a sort of super-cop, or some CIA or FBI agent, maybe even some kinda spy or some fucked up experiment. All I know is she helped me and I am returning the favour,” Wickes said as he glanced up, willing the dark blue sky above him to turn black as night.


= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

Erin rested in the corner of her cell, knees drawn up to her chest. She had tried to maintain an alert state all day, ready to pounce on Cruz the moment he arrived but doing that had taken its toll. Her reaction times to noises that were barely perceptible in her soundproofed cell were slowing, each false alarm taking the edge off her eagerness to react.

Now the noises were real and close. The low metal thud of the metal stockroom door not so far away managed to permeate into Erin's cell. Erin began to move then realised her limbs ached having been motionless for some time. Drawing her feet under herself Erin pushed up, her knees protesting a moment before she extended herself to her feet. Around her ankle the metal chain jangled a little and Erin winced at her own noise. Then Erin hear the sound of her cell door rattle as the key unlocked the door. Cruz was here!

Cruz pushed the door open and his eyes instantly caught sight of the trail of potato chips that had been neatly formed into an arrow that …

“What have you ...” Cruz began to say as he entered, his eyes following the point of the arrowhead of potato chips and the neat little pyramid of water bottles that had been stacked up in the cor …

“Hnghhh..” groaned Erin as she launched herself at Cruz from behind the doorway. Immediately she could smell the beer on his breath. Perhaps she had more of a chance than she had thought.

The plastic bag snatched tight over Cruz's head and his hands raised instinctively to remove it while his body tried to turn to face the threat. Erin, pluckily wrapped herself to Cruz's torso though and used her arms to try and prevent Cruz from removing the bag which she held tight against his face.

The bag convulsed with Cruz's every breath as he flailed violently at his unseen attacker. In panic Cruz understood Erin's plan and rammed himself backwards into one of the plywood boarded walls and she wheezed as the wind was knocked from her. Desperately though she held on tight, the coloured bag inflating and deflating as Cruz fought.

Using his elbows Cruz jabbed back in to Erin's ribs which caused her to latch her teeth onto the side of his neck and bite hard. The grunting, the screeching, the yelps and the sound of the plastic bag doing its dance played their deadly score atop the percussion of crunching potato chips and tumbling bottles as the pair fought.

Cruz in a sudden moment of common sense realised his priorities were wrong and with great effort managed to get his hands close enough to his face to …

“Nghnoo” growled Erin as she realised what Cruz was about to do as her hands tried to keep control on the bag and Cruz's arms at the same time.

Cruz managed to pinch the plastic between his thumbs and fingers and with one great effort started to rip the bag open. With a big intake of breath Cruz sensed the tide was turning, Erin's morale crumbling seeing her plan had failed. Ramming her back into the wall Erin's grasp on the young man failed and she found herself sliding off Cruz to the floor.

“You fucking bitch!” Cruz growled as his hand rose to his neck which burned. The bite was deep and had drawn blood. The incisions she left in his flesh aligned with her teeth marks, the two semicircles of pain soaking his t-shirt with blood.

Erin was on her side on the floor, one arm raised defensively as she tried to get back to her feet and resume the fight. Cruz's foot though taught her differently, giving her a firm shove back with the sole of his shoe.

“Now you're gonna get it!” Cruz said with a snarl, his teeth baring as he reached to the belt buckle of his jeans and with a firm yank drew the length of leather from the belt loops.

“You're finished, Cruz. Your blood is going to be all over this place, over me, over everything,” Erin said in desperation.

“You think I am worried about the cops? You should worry about being DEAD,” Cruz snarled as he held one hand over his neck wound while from his other hand the leather belt hung, the metal buckle scraping on the floor.

Erin looked up at Cruz and knew he was serious. Diplomacy was over, as was reason and bargaining. It was fight or die.

“Come on then, you fucking coward,” Erin said, wiping Cruz's blood from her mouth as she went to rise again.

With a sneer Cruz doubled up the belt in his hand as Erin rose, “OK, bitch, you asked for it,”

= = = = = = = = = = = = =

From a rooftop Captain Thompson laid prone looking through a spotting scope to the alleyway at the rear of Flynn's shop. On a bi-pod next to him a snipers rifle waited patiently.

Thompson took a breath and beat his hands together in the cool air before clicking the talk button on his radio that stood next to him, “Cruz is in the building, you can go whenever you want,” he said.

“Yes, we see it, let's give them a little time. If he finishes her off it saves us the trouble,” the voice of Bishop responded.

“OK, keep me informed,” Thompson replied before putting his eyes back on the scope again.

= = = = = = = = = = = = =

Ashley Hill raised the doorway of her rented storage unit and wheeled her bike into the dark interior and pulled the door closed behind her. Fumbling in the darkness Ashley found the light switch and the flourescent lights began to flicker to life illuminating the interior. Inside Ashley had converted the space into a compact little workshop. Next to Ashley's flame red bike stood its jet black twin, devoid of license plates or markings.

Removing her red and black helmet from her head Ashley prepared to get changed. Her heavy duty bike leathers awaited her as did her black helmet with its smoked visor which protected her identity, the black balaclava she wore beneath it waiting folded up inside.

Tonight she was going to Flynn's shop in search of Cruz. Now she seemed to be free of the tail that had been following her yesterday she sensed her chance to work. If she could make Cruz talk she could learn more about The Club and what their plans had been with Neyra Thornton if they had managed to keep hold of her. By cracking open The Club Ashley might be able to get some mud to stick on Kohl who was undoubtedly one of the senior men in their little organisation.

= = = = = = = = = = = = = =

Spydra looked down from the shadowy underside of the bridge and quickly saw Wickes and Mattie. They had been joined by others of their usual group though for some reason they stood apart doing their own thing while Wickes and Mattie looked up into the night sky, no doubt for her.

Spydra sensed the young men's eyes and their desire to see her but nothing more. It didn't appear to be a trap and she hadn't suspected there would be one but it was always better to be safe than sorry.
Cautiously Spydra let out her line and slowly drifted downwards to the ground from the shadows.

“Hey, she's back!”

“Look, up there!”

“How does she do that?”

Spydra dropped down amongst the youths who naturally closed in cautiously towards her.

“Wickes, tell me you have something for me,” Spydra asked. She sounded assertive but her voice indicated it was more of a need than an order.

As Spydra began to approach she sensed the cell phones being pulled from pockets, the desire to take a photo or get a quick video of the intriguing woman in their midsts.

“I told you once, put them away,” Spydra said with a gesture of her finger towards the posse forming behind her.

“Hey guys, not cool,” Wickes said gruffly as Spydra approached him and Mattie who looked around nervously for trouble.

Spydra glanced over her shoulder and saw disappointment on faces. She was still eager to keep a low profile but the way things had been going so far she was concerned for their safety. “I know you want a video or a photo but if the wrong people think you know me that could put you in danger. Maybe when everything is over we can do something but not now, understand?”

“Go on, go set up some cans,” Wickes said, waving the others away.

“Please tell me you have something,” Spydra asked as she saw the other youths back away, some keeping their eyes on her.

“Hey, is everything ok, you seem in a hurry?” Mattie noted perceptively.

“Another woman has been taken. I think it is connected to Flynn, maybe even Cruz.” Spydra said, her head turning towards Mattie.

“Shit? For real? OK, I'll tell you what I got. Flynn's got some shop he leases out. Right now it's empty and I think he's been doing it up. It might be where Cruz is holding up at. At any rate it looks big enough to keep someone locked up if they wanted. I wanted to see if I could get inside but the cops came so I had to go. Fucking Lamb ….” Wickes explained.

“Wait, Lamb? It was him that pulled me too,” Mattie said with surprise.

“It's the best lead I have, where is it?” Spydra asked.


= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

“Hnghhhhhh” groaned Erin as her torso received another blow from the looped length of leather of Cruz's belt.

Cruz was sweating from his effort, his drunken snarl punctuated by his upper arm wiping his brow dry.

“Had enough yet, bitch?” Cruz said noting how one of Erin's legs twitched in pain as she cowered in the corner.

Erin had no words to say to Cruz now. When her beating had started she had initially fought, then when she felt Cruz knew he was back on top tried to reason with him. It was afterall logical to her that he should have expected her to attempt to escape. But that fell on deaf ears. Then she begged him to stop, promising anything and everything to appease him. But with all attempts exhausted she was left to stand in defiance. Beneath her once smart trousers and blouse her body had been left bruised and striped with the belting she had been given.

“PAH!” Erin mustered, spitting a mouthful of blood at Cruz across the room.

“Still some fight left then. Good, it's gonna make the fucking all the better!” Cruz said, tossing his belt to the floor.

Cruz let out a sickening smile as he dabbed his bleeding neck confirming to himself how Erin had done him harm and then with one hand reached to the top button of his jeans and pinged it open.

Erin's eyes burned with anger and the sting of her own tears as she realised what was going to be Cruz's end game. She flexed her fingers wondering how much flesh she could gouge from his face with her nails. If he was going to fuck her she was going to make sure he paid a high price.

VWRRRRR VWRRRRR VWRRRRRRR

“Fuck, who's this!” Cruz grunted as he reached for his cell phone in his pocket.

FLYNN

“Saved by the bell, bitch,” Cruz said as he flipped open his phone and took the call.

“Cruz, are you back there yet?” Flynn asked.

“Yeah,” Cruz responded, his eyes locking on to Erin who was still hunched into one corner, leg twitching, her foot still chained up.

“And the reporter?” Flynn followed on.

“Yeah, Flynn, she's still with us! You should join us, we are having a party here,” Cruz said as he made a sickening wink at his victim.

“Have you been drinking? You sound wrecked,” Flynn demanded.

“Yeah, I've been drinking but don't worry, I'm still hard enough to fuck her before you get here, you fucking pussy,” Cruz responded.

“Fine, fuck her then, I'll be there within the hour,” Flynn replied.

“An hour, whatever. Laters,” Cruz said nonchalantly as he flipped the phone closed, ending the call. With his eyes that betrayed his slightly drunken state Cruz mentally stripped the slim blond in front of him and liked what he saw, raw meat to screw.

= = = = = = = = = = = =

Flynn flipped his phone closed and turned to look at Sargent Taylor who leaned against Flynn's car, peering inside at him.

“Well?” Taylor asked.

“She's alive, but … he says he's gonna fuck her. I don't think he is gonna kill her till I get there. He sounds fucking drunk too and he gets pretty violent when he's had a few,” Flynn said.

“Jeezus, are we frikking animals now?” Taylor said, a sickened expression on his face.

Taylor had so far managed to justify to himself a little bit of monetary corruption. Police officers in his eyes were underpaid and unappreciated. At a stretch he could also stand the idea of letting a little bit of the social poison of drugs hit the streets as long as it was being managed by 'The Club'. Even murder was acceptable, so long as it was only low life scum like Cruz on the wrong end. But now things were bleeding over to innocent people like Erin Tate. Sure, taking her out was self defense for The Club but … rape?

Bishop stood close by while Lamb and couple of other “club” members from within the police force loitered a little further away in an alleyway waiting for the go. Dressed in civilian clothes they all had concealed weapons on them, prepared to do their murderous deed. Club members who were on duty that night had been set to patrol the area, ensuring that the illegal gathering would not get accidentally confronted by their more honest colleagues.

“OK, I think we should we go in. Things aren't getting any nicer in there. Make it quick for Erin, she may be a pain the ass but she doesn't deserve this. Let me call it in to Thompson,” Bishop said.

Taylor spun away from Flynn's car preparing to give orders to the other men. A gun would be chosen to shoot Erin with and planted on Cruz and a second weapon would kill Cruz to never be seen again. Some drugs would be left on Cruz to confuse the picture and then later a club member detective could be assigned the case which would fade unsolved with time.

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

Spydra hung from the side of a building and counted the rows of streets that crossed her path ahead.

“OK, so, the one directly in front of me is one, behind the next building is two, and behind the next building is three...” Spydra said into her mic.

“Yes, then behind the building on the far side of the third street is an alley which backs onto the store. It's the second from the left,” Neyra replied. Neyra was in her car a short distance away using an online map on her tablet to help Laura navigate.

“Ah ok, I've got you. Can you move in closer?” Spydra asked.

“Yes, I will try and get closer to the alley for you for a quick get away,” Neyra answered.

“OK, I'm oscar-mike,” Spydra said as prepared to swing away to the next building. From here the building heights were notably lower than those more in the core of the town and making a descent required a little more planning than normal.

“Good luck, see you soon,” Neyra replied before she fire up the engine of her car, preparing to change location.

Spydra swung away with a firm shove off and fired a line to the next rooftop. Retracting the line to her lower destination back into her body while playing out the line from her higher starting point she kept the overall diagonal slope taught. To an observer it would appear she was on a single zip-line down to her destination. In reality though she was making use of two webs at once, the lower one pulling her down while the higher one held supported her as she made it longer and longer to reach the next roof.

Spydra didn't know it worked but it seemed her forearms were spooling web in and out of her like it was on some kind of drum. Doing it a lot ached like overworking a muscle but with practice she had honed the precision needed to pull off the trick.

Approaching the lower roof Spydra tugged the higher line free and retracted it back to her. Recovering webbing made the need to top up her bodily fluids less necessary but clinging to walls and producing webbing she lost still required she stock up on liquids, a step she performed there and then.

Sipping some liquid Spydra replaced the bottle onto her belt then skipped playfully along the roof and lept again. Firing a line to the equal height roof across the road and the roof she was on she repeated her trick, keeping herself on a taught line that she retracted herself on to the far side. If she just fired a web to the far side and swung she would just face-plant into the street.


Neyra listened intently as Spydra continued her journey, her occasional heavier breathing and exertions being heard over their comms link. Neyra didn't mind hearing Spydra in her ear, the reassuring sounds of her doing her work telling Neyra that everything was ok. Glancing at her GPS Neyra drove closer and closer to where Spydra was headed.

Spydra was on the last roof and spied the doorway that would lead into the shop. Dropping into the alleyway the black and metallic gun metal grey Spydra ventured up to the stock room door and suddenly felt ….

= = = = = = = = = = = =

Captain Thompson listened to the radio as he heard Bishop tell him they were preparing to make their way to the alleyway.

“OK, I see you,” Thompson said as he steered his scope to where his men were gathered before tracking back to the alleyway only to see the slinky jet black figure near the stockroom door.

“Oh SHIT! Guys, hold up, hold up. She's THERE! The fucking woman in black is THERE! I can get a shot!” hissed Thompson as he watched on through his spotting scope.

Rolling over quickly Thompson put himself against his sniper rifle and rested his cheek on the stock. The spotting scope was good for getting situational awareness in an area, something the scope on his rifle could never do. The rifle scope however was good at getting a closer more accurate aim on a target, a target that was now firmly in his crosshairs.

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

Bishop and Taylor glanced at each other as they took in the news.

“We can make it look like they took each other out,” Bishop whispered back into the radio. He didn't know it but in that moment Thompson's finger lingered on the trigger of his rifle.

Thompson let the idea sink in, his scoped eye watching the black figure hesitate at the stockroom door. Shooting her now might jeopardise getting Cruz cleanly. With gritted teeth Thomspon growled, his finger loosening off the trigger.

“OK, standing down. I will let you know what she does,” Thomspon replied over the radio.

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

Spydra glanced around unable to see a threat though a security camera covering the entrance to the stockroom caused her to think. Had it been that that had caused her senses to tingle for a moment? At any rate the feeling receded, in Spydra's experience it meant no direct threat was present though she was mindful that she had been alerted for a reason.

Moving to the doorway Spydra grabbed the metal handle and tested the mechanism and found it locked. Spydra's first ever real conundrum. So far she had been the lawful one but now she was contemplating breaking into somewhere. This was where Lisa and Lucy's teachings seriously diverged. Lisa was about the law while Lucy was about getting things done, unrestrained by things like search warrants and probably cause.

“You know if you go in there and are wrong you could be leaving someone's livelihood damaged. You will have to make it right,” Lisa nagged Spydra inside her head.

“If you really think Erin is in there you should act. You already have doubts about the police. If you tip them to do this properly the bad guys might just move Erin somewhere else. It's on you, so are you going to let a simple locked door stop you or what?” Lucy said bluntly.

“Sorry Lisa, I've gone with you till now but Lucy deserves a shot!” Spydra thought to herself as she put her hand back on the metal looped handle of the door.

Pulling gradually harder Spydra felt the metal door slowly fail. As each weak point gave up resisting a new point of defiance emerged only to be tested by her strength. First the loop style door handle began to bend a little, then the frame where the door lock resided, the metal twisting to let the extended block free. The panel of the metal doorway bowed outwards a little letting out at mettalic pop and then finally a deep thud as the door became unlocked. From his viewpoint Thomspon could not make out the details of what happened in the shadowy alley but the end result was certainly obvious, the doorway opening for the black catsuited figure.

“She's inside, move in, move in,” Thompson ordered his men over the radio.

Taylor and Bishop heard the message and quickly re-briefed their men. A man was selected to act as the woman in black's shooter by proxy. His weapon would be used to shoot Cruz and be planted on the dead woman in black. Another man's gun would be used to shoot the woman in black and Erin and would be planted on Cruz. For their chosen corrupt detective it would be an open and shut case. The well known vigilante, in a brave attempt to rescue Erin was killed by Cruz who then killed his hostage in his dying moments. It was going to be a perfect outcome for Kohl's club.

Spydra entered into the low tiled stockroom at the rear of the shop, surprised to see no one there. The lights were off but the CCTV TV feed bathed the room in its grey glow. Spydra took in the screen a moment then looked ahead to a short passageway. That's when Spydra could hear voices. Stepping lightly Spydra made her way to what would be the shop managers office and put her ear to the door. Inside was the source of the voices, male and female. Spydra felt no threat to herself, no ambush awaited her, the senses of the people inside were directed inwards towards themselves as if …

“Erin?” mouthed Spydra to herself as she suddenly felt sure.

Placing her hand on the door Spydra gave the door a firm push, her mind seemingly able to map out the position of the people inside before she had even laid eyes on them.

BAM!

Spydra quickly forced open the door to be confronted by a scene she had not contemplated. Squirming beneath Cruz the blond reporter was clawing and biting any part of Cruz she could get hold of while he was pulling at her bra through her ripped open top. One of her breasts was exposed, the bra cup pulled up towards her shoulder and Cruz was trying to expose the other at the expense of his forearm which was sliced up by Erin's nails.

Cruz turned his head in shock at the door flinging open behind him while Erin drew her knees up as a defensive reaction , striking Cruz in the back.

“Who the fu....” Cruz managed to say before he took a web to his face.

Erin was speechless as she could not see who had entered but her mind quickly processed what had happened to Cruz and realised it was the work of Spydra. Cruz, his arms flailing tried to push his drunk body to his feet while also trying to cope with the web in his face which stung his eyes.

“Please … help me ….” sobbed Erin as she writhed free from under Cruz who blindly dismounted from her.

“My eyes, you fucking whore!” Cruz growled as he flailed blindly.

Spydra stepped forward through the doorway and permitted herself one moment to dispel her demons of failure from her first ever encounter with Cruz. It had been her first ever time out as Spydra when she was nothing more than a shadow of her current self. With no training and wearing little more than what she would now consider a Halloween costume she had been driven off by this thug. Now though she had grown into her role and taken a step towards being a heroine. Despite his own lofty aspirations Cruz was still the same thug he had been at the start of Spydra's journey.

“The name is SPYDRA,” Spydra said as she grabbed a handful of Cruz's top and drove him against a wall.

“Fuck … you …..” wheezed Cruz as the wind was knocked from him, his face still covered over with webbing.

Spydra looked at Erin who was a mess and needed attention. The sooner she could be gotten out of there the better. Spydra stepped back from a dazed Cruz and unleashed a good volley of web at his torso, sticking him fast to the wall.

“Oh god, thank you,” sobbed Erin as she rose to her feet. In a daze she began to adjust her attire, while wiping her eyes.

“It's going to be ok, Erin, I've got you. I am going to get you out of here,” Spydra said warmly as she noted the chain around Erin's ankle.

“I am going to kill you both you fucking bitches!” ranted Cruz as he tore at the stringy goo holding him hostage.

“The key, where is it?” Erin sobbed yanking at the padlock on the chain. Without the key she feared she wasn't going to be free any time soon.

Spydra dropped to one knee and noted how the chain holding Erin was secured to the floor. It was going to be tough but she knew she could free Erin. Coiling the chain around her right hand and placing her left hand part way down the short length remaining to the floor Spydra pulled with all her might, even pushing away with her thighs. Rated at five hundred pounds the weakest link made a dramatic thud like sound and slowly the elongated O shaped link became an almost closed C. With a groan the failed link started to straighten out into a J and then it happened, the neighbouring link slipped off its broken brother, Erin was free.

“Come on, let's get you out of here! Can you walk?” Sypdra said gathering up the remaining chain trailing from Erin's ankle.

“Get back here!” Cruz said, finally wiping his stinging red eyes free of the web over his face.

“Yes, please, but .. what about him?” Erin said as she finally did up her pants then wrapped her arms around herself, trying to hold her ripped open top against herself.

“I am going to hand you over to … well ….a mutual friend ….then I am coming back for a little talk with him. Come on, let's get you out of here first,” Spydra said, glancing back at Cruz.

Spydra, holding the excess chain in one hand and supporting Erin with the other ushered the freed blond reporter back out the doorway and into the short corridor leading to the tiled stockroom. Ahead the storeroom doorway to the alleyway hung almost closed under its own weight. It was only as they neared the exit and freedom did Spydra's senses alert her of impending trouble, her eyes confirming it moments later when the CCTV screen revealed the men forming up outside.

“I'M GONNA KILL YOU!” ranted the drunken Cruz from the office.

Spydra looked at the men on the screen, her heart racing as she saw final confirmation of what all of them had truly been dealing with all along!

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

SOME MONTHS BEFORE

Neyra cowered behind the simple desk, black helmet on her head and goggles protecting her eyes. Wearing something like red combats and and a protective vest over the top which was emblazoned V.I.P she looked dressed for battle but carried no weapon.

“So tell me how I am going to die...... again!” Neyra hissed at Laura.

Laura was similarly dressed but in black, a large pistol in her right hand hanging by her side. A slightly angry glare from Laura caused Nerya to give an apologetic shrug back.

“If I knew for sure I'd know where to hide you in this death trap,” Laura protested. The pair were inside a chipboard walled building that was used in paintballing, airsoft and military simulations.

“Aren't you picking anything up?” Neyra asked frantically.

“Yeah, this desire to shoot the V.I.P!” Laura snapped back as she tried to listen intently to her surroundings.

“Fine, I'll be over here dying …. AGAIN! Oh and good luck!” Neyra said with sarcasm. So far Laura had failed to protect her V.I.P in the first three exercises. Apart from her senses which she couldn't switch off she had been told to not use her abilities like web slinging or wall climbing.

“You're welcome,” Laura said in reply. In fairness Laura had received her fair share of getting shot.

Meanwhile Lisa Kozny, Lucy Wuan and Selena drew their goggles down to their eyes with wicked grins on their faces and cocked their airsoft pistols. Stepping up to the backdoor Lucy took point, Selena behind her and Lisa taking the rear. Lisa, gear checked and set to go placed her left hand on Selena's shoulder, the signal to go passing on forward. Lucy at the front felt Selena's hand on her shoulder next confirming without a word being said the two behind her were ready.

“Go go go,” ordered Lucy and the trio stormed the entrance way to the mock plyboard house.

Their sweeping entry was repeated for every room, the order they scanned corners and swept firing arcs so methodical and precise. Eventually they would reach the room holding the VIP and her protector and with good training and skill behind them they would defeat the highly tuned senses of Neyra's bodyguard and win.... again.

Training together, playing together, learning together, the bond between cop, mercenary, heroine, spy and lover was growing and was stronger than any of them knew.

= = = = = = = = = = = = =

“Wait, they're …. cops … or SWAT?” Spydra hesitated seeing the feed on screen. The men postured and prepared like military or police, just as Lucy Selena and Lisa had done, but with balaclavas on their faces and wearing leather jackets and jeans? Something was off, badly off and even Erin could see it.

“SWAT?” Erin managed, eyes wild.

“They .. they are here to kill me, I can sense it! ” Spydra could feel the men's intent in the air. They were there to tidy up loose ends. But how could they have known she would be there when she barely had known she would be there herself?

“Oh my god, the Brookside shooting. The SWAT team? They are going to try and silence me!” Erin suddenly realised.

Spydra looked at Erin who's lower lip trembled from her ordeal, the pair finally understanding what was happening. It was a set up to end Cruz, end Erin, and Spydra was icing on the cake.

“WHEN I GET OUT OF THIS FUCKING SHIT I AM GONNA CUT YOU UP BITCHES!” continued Cruz's drunken rant unseen.

“Come, come, here, here ….” whispered Spydra as she guided Erin to the corner of the room.

“We're dead, we're dead,” whimpered Erin as she realised her only protection was Spydra's body.

“Close your eyes tight, don't open them till I say,” Spydra said as she flicked a pellet like blob of hard web at the lights in the room, cracking open the fluorescent tubes. Then she sprayed a web over the screen of the CCTV screen, blocking out the glow that had part filled the room.

“Ok, ok, ok,” Erin whispered.

“I KNOW YOU'RE THERE, WHORES!!” Cruz growled from the closed office, the light inside bleeding round the edge of the door.

Spydra and Erin pinned themselves to the corner away from the door and the pair prayed silently. Then the metal door swung open and the first man entered, gun raised and scanned to his right. Hitting the light switch the man cursed that the lights were seemingly not working. With his eyes not accustomed to the darkness the lead man initially failed to see the black clad Spydra in the shadowed corner shielding Erin. Suddenly Cruz let out an angry yell grabbing everyone's attention. Cruz had heard the metal door open and assumed it was Erin and Spydra making their escape.

“I AM GONNA FUCK YOU UP!!” Cruz protested.

“Flynn said she would be held back there. Let's get this over with,” the second man entering whispered.

“Don't forget – red gun does Cruz , blue gun does the women,” cautioned the third man.

Hearing Cruz's voice the lead man indicated ahead before glancing to his left, checking the other corners. Slowly the other cops in their slow procession filed into the room, each relying on the other to cover each other's backs.

“Quick, open your eyes, we are leaving!” Spydra whispered as she took Erin by the hand.

As they went to set off the chain about Erin's ankle jangled just enough to make the trailing cop turn to face the noise. In front of him was the shadow of the woman in black and...

“Fuck, she's HERE!” screamed the cop seeing Spydra was practically on top of him. Instinctively turning his weapon to face the heroine he learned quickly that was a big mistake.

Webs flew and screams echoed in the hard tiled stockroom. The cop who had been at the tail end of the line had his weapon ripped from his hands before being dragged face first to the floor. The next cop had a face full of web preventing him from seeing and aiming. His police training overrode his more mercenary leanings and instinct denied him the desire to fire his weapon blindly into the room.

As the leading officers realised trouble was behind them they spun around, weapons raised.

“It's them, open fire!” panicked one of the cops.

Thompson listened intently to his radio from his sniper's nest on the top of the building. Through his spotting scope he thought he saw the flash of a weapon being fired illuminate the crack in the doorway and the screams of his men confirmed something really wasn't right.

“It's a TRAP!!” screamed one of the men over the radio, gunfire crackling in the background.

“Jeezus, what the fuck is going on down there! Check your fire!!” Thompson grimaced as he focused down the spotting scope.

“Help!” crackled the radio. It sounded like Taylor and he sounded spooked, something Thompson had never had heard before in his Sargent.

“SIT-REP – What is HAPPENING!?” Thompson demanded back down the radio.

“She's ….” crackled the voice of Bishop before being cut off.

“Taylor? Bishop? Lamb? Anybody?!” demanded Thompson as everything went suddenly quiet.

Scanning the surroundings with his scope Thompson saw Flynn in his car speed away, spooked by the turn of events that had transpired. The sound of dulled sporadic gunfire was evidently enough to send him scurrying.

“Jeezus!” Thompson mouthed. Scooting over from his spotting scope Thomson set himself back up on the sniper rifle and tried to settle his nerves.

Inside the tiled stockroom the air was filled with groans and coughs as the beaten cops began to recover from their ordeal. Spydra walked along the row of men, all pinned to the wall by webbing, Erin cowering behind her.

“Don't be afraid, Erin …. it's them that should be afraid of you,” Spydra said, arms folded as she planted herself facing directly at the row of terrified men.

“Who...who are they ...” mumbled Erin.

“Well, let's see …..” Spydra said as she placed her hand on the balaclava of the first man.

“Don't you dare … I ….” the masked cop said nervously, twisting his head this way and that trying to prevent his mask's removal.

Spydra knew what this moment meant to him. She had felt the same thing when Lucy Wuan had unmasked her. Oh how her world felt like it was ending when that had happened. Little did she know that her true identity was already known to Supergirl and her friends but Spydra hadn't known that at the time. To her the unmasking was real and left her sick to her stomach. She though had something positive to gain from the experience but for this poor man? He had made his life choices and now he had to pay.

With a firm yank Spydra ripped away the mask revealing the man beneath, his face turning angrily to face the masked heroine.

“BITCH!” snarled the man before spitting at Spydra.

“Oh my god, you... you're officer ummmm Lamb. I covered your commendation ceremony!” Erin said in shock.

“You're making a big mistake Tate, we … we're here to rescue you! SHE is a wanted felon!” Lamb protested, gesturing with his head at Spydra.

Erin glanced at Spydra then back at Lamb, a flicker of doubt in her eyes before she dismissed his claim. If she had failed to see through his deception though Spydra was quick to point a flaw in his deceit. Spydra picked up one of the guns with her pinky finger through the trigger guard from the floor, red tape wrapped around the muzzle.

“You said the red gun was to do Cruz! The blue gun was to do the women! US!” Spydra said showing the colour coded gun to the cops glued helplessly to the wall before setting it back down.

Erin was left mouth open as she saw the gun and its blue marked twin on the floor. Erin thought she had heard the instruction too, and seeing the actual weapon earmarked to execute her confirmed to her what she had heard. The cops looked guiltily between themselves knowing Erin was never going to believe they were there for anything other than murder.

Spydra walked down the line yanking masks from heads revealing Taylor and Bishop among them. Patting for wallets or ID the young heroine quickly found they had been careful enough to not bring anything identifiable as theirs with them.

“They're not carrying any ID, there's not a badge between them. They're rogue,” Spydra said, looking to Erin.

“But I know them! That's Bishop! And you? You're TAYLOR! Now this is making sense” Erin managed to say.

Spydra looked between Erin and the revealed corrupt cops, her head cocking inquisitively, prompting Erin to continue.

“Taylor was the detective who was busted down to the SWAT team when the case against Donny Vance collapsed. An investigation said it was Taylor's sloppiness that missed Flynn's evidence which helped Vance get off! But you didn't screw up by mistake, did you?! You sacrificed your detective's badge to keep Vance out! Wasn't it you at Brookside too?!” Erin said angrily.

“Nice theory but WE are the COPS, lady. Who are people going to believe? You?” Taylor smirked with what bravado he could muster.


“I'm going to the authorities. And I don't mean local, I'm going federal. When we get out of here you have literally the time it takes for me to call my contacts with the FBI to get out of town or turn yourselves in,” Erin said with venom.

The shift in the power balance in the room was becoming apparent to everyone. Guns had been overturned by webs and now despite the corrupt cops claims to authority the only one true authoritative voice left was that of the reporter. When she said something happened a certain way then people would believe her because it was her job to report the truth. Her story would be accepted by default and it would be the corrupt cops who would be on the back foot.

The cops realised the danger and began struggling harder than ever to free themselves from their prison.

“Come on, let's go while these webs still hold them,” Spydra said, preparing to lead Erin away.

“What about Cruz? You can't leave him here with them! They were going to kill him. He can blow this whole thing wide open for us!” Erin exclaimed.

Spydra looked at the captured corrupt cops as they fought to free themselves. Erin was right, she would have to take them both.

“Wait here,” Spydra ordered Erin as she turned to return to the managers office.

Cruz ranted and raged unseen before he and Spydra reappeared, his arms bound behind his back. Being forced marched Cruz's tirade slowly faded as he saw the men bound to the wall in the same manner he had been.

“Who the …. wait … you ….. you're all ….. you're all fucking cops!” Cruz realised. Then he noted the guns on the floor.

“Don't you tell them ANYTHING, Cruz!” Taylor ordered.

“They were coming for YOU, Cruz. This was a set up! They had you take me so they had an excuse to kill us both!” goaded Erin.

“That mother-fucker FLYNN!” Cruz exclaimed, his restrained body lunging at Taylor before Spydra finally held him back.

“You're ALL making a mistake. Keep quiet and we can work this out but if you walk out that door it's only going to end one way! You can still be useful to us Erin... don't make us do it,” Taylor said though his tone sounded desperate.

“And it's because you said that that I know I am doing the right thing,” Erin managed, utterly shaken by what she had uncovered.

Spydra guided Erin with a friendly hand on her shoulder while steering Cruz firmly. Cruz though seemed suddenly less resistant to being led to freedom. Opening the stockroom entrance the trio made their way into the alleyway. Neyra would be nearby now and Spydra just needed to get Erin in the car and …

DANGER! Screamed Spydra's senses.

Thompson took in the sight of the woman in black and what appeared to be Erin Tate, the reporter and Cruz.

“Guys?! The woman in black, the reporter...fuck even Cruz … they are leaving! What's happening?” Thompson pleaded as he looked down his rifle's scope. His aim hovered between the trio indecisively which served only to tickle at Spydra's senses.

“Kill them all!” crackled the radio, one of the men in the store able to get a message out.

Thompson steadied himself and took a breath, the form of Spydra filling his scope. She was the rescuer, the leader, the one with the plan. With her gone the others would falter. Squeezing the trigger Thompson prepared to fire.

“THIS is my rifle ...” whispered Thompson as he exhaled, his finger squeezing the trigger.

Spydra gasped and without thought instinctively fired out a web, seemingly in a random direction. The web shot out, expanding outwards like a hexagonal net as it travelled away from her body only to pucker up in the center.

Caught in the net the snipers round slowed as the net snagged at the walls forming the alleyway. The net stretched taking more pace from the deadly missile though not by a meaningful amount. The saving grace was the tip of the bullet turned away as it tumbled in the web like net.

“Whuuuuuuuu......” groaned Spydra as the round hit her side on in the ribs knocking her to the ground.

Spydra clutched her side with her hand, her head flopping back to the concrete.

POOOOOWWWWWWWW growled the report of the rifle, chasing behind the round itself which had flown in so much more faster.

Erin ducked away to one side of the alleyway not knowing where the shot had come from while Cruz ran clumsily to the other. All they knew was there was a sniper hidden out there in the city and he could be any distance away.

VRRRRRRRR VRUMMMMMMMMMMM

Suddenly from nowhere a jet black motorcycle sped into the alleyway and stopped by the prone Spydra.

Spydra looked up at the motorcyclist and knew in that moment she was someone she could trust. The one who had saved Neyra was back!

“Take HER .. take her now!” Spydra pleaded to the anonymous woman on the motorbike.

The motorcyclist looked between Cruz and Erin, the agony of choosing who to take visible by her body language. Cruz could destroy the club, but that poor woman needed help...

“Dammit!! Come with ME!” the motorcyclist ordered Erin.

Erin recognised the bike and the form of the woman. It was the same person who had rescued Neyra Thornton and so without hesitation the young reporter painfully mounted the bike.

KERRCLICK-CLACK- TINGGGG..... sounded Thompson's rifle as he pulled open the bolt, ejecting the spent round. He had been slow reloading, the new arrival in his scope freezing him in his tracks a moment.

“There are many like it....” Thompson said to himself.

“Gooooooooo!” wheezed Spydra on the floor, gesturing to go the motorcyclist.

Ashley looked between Spydra and the cowering Cruz from behind her tinted visor while Erin gathered up the chain on her ankle clear away from the moving parts of the machine.

“... but this one is mine!” Thompson continued, his eye focusing on his target.

CLACK-KERCLUNK! Thompson slammed another round into the chamber of his rifle and tried to figure out what he was seeing.

“There are two of you!” Thompson exclaimed as he took in the sight of the two black clad women. Faced with target overload he was momentarily frozen as the bike sped off out of his view.

Groaning in pain Spydra rose to her feet clutching her side. Erin was away and now the heroine had a chance to deal with Cruz... but where was he? In the confusion of the bike arriving Spydra had lost track of him.

DANGER! Screamed Spydra's senses as the scope settled on her a second time.

“Ney....Neyra …. get away.....” Spydra said into her comms. She realised with the sniper in the area she didn't need Neyra and her car becoming another target.

“Baby, what?” Neyra replied. She was really really close by and had heard what she thought was gunfire.

“Erin has been extracted, get away, meet at home,” groaned Spydra as she turned to face the source of the danger her senses warned her about.

“You sound hurt...” Neyra pleaded.

“Go!” Spydra ordered though her voice sounded pained.

“My rifle is my best friend …..” whispered Thompson as his crosshair settled on target.

Caught in indecision Spydra made for an inviting target for the watching sniper who squeezed the trigger once more and ….

Firing two webs instinctively in the same direction as the first Spydra's catch nets intercepted the second round, this time more effectively than the first. Slowing the round just that little bit more Spydra made a leap, just failing to clear the bullet which tumbled into her thigh, knocking her to the ground again.

POOOOOWWWWWWWW crackled the rifle shot, echoing into the alley.

Spydra's efforts were agony, her ribs feeling like they were a shattered jigsaw puzzle but she knew she had to press on and get out of the sniper's line of sight. Now her thigh protested as she hobbled, her flesh numbing like it was swelling up fast.

“It is my life … I must master it ...” Thompson whispered.

KERRCLICK-CLACK- TINGGGG – Thompson cleared the chamber of his rifle once again.

Had his rifle's muzzle not kicked skyward with each shot he might have seen the webs that were thwarting his efforts. However, to see his target seemingly wounded gave him the impression he had at least winged his target.

CLACK-KERCLUNK! Thompson loaded another round into his rifle, determined to kill the woman in black.

“.... as I must master my life,” Thompson continued.

“There you are,” Thompson thought with a smile as he prepared for his third shot. The figure in black hobbled in pain as she looked for safety from her assassin, one arm clinging to her injured side. Squeezing the trigger tighter and tighter the weapon fired once more ….

Spydra's instincts drove her to fire a web again. This time though she did something different. A dense narrower field of web flew out but this time formed more like a long thin funnel. In came the round catching the inner wall of the new web. Bouncing off the inner walls of the trap the bullet slowed dramatically as it tumbled down the narrowing pathway until it stopped.

Settling his cheek back onto the stock of his rifle Thomspon looked down the scope to see that the woman in black was gone, the alley empty.

“DAMMIT!” growled Thompson. Four targets, three shots and not a kill among them.

Spydra had managed to make it out of sight and in her hand she held an intact bullet that had sought to harm her. The young heroine looked intently at the caught bullet then snapped her fingers tightly around it, desiring to keep hold of her prize.

= = = = = = = = = = =

“Baby, say something!” Neyra pleaded into her comms as she prayed that any moment she would catch sight of Spydra safe on the side of a building.

“Tell me you are on the way home!” Spydra said in obvious pain.

“I swear, I am, just tell me you're ok!” Neyra demanded.

“There was a sniper, that's why I couldn't let him see you with me. Just get home,” Spydra insisted.

“You sound hurt. Are you okay?” Neyra pressed.

“Little winded,” winced Spydra. She was no doubt on the move, but at least being on the move meant being alive, something that gave Neyra hope.

“What happened to Erin? Is she safe?” Neyra asked, realising there was that important loose end.

“The woman in black, the one on the bike, she has her,” Spydra explained.

“The one who saved ME? But how did she ...” Neyra began to ask. She was as mystified by this other heroine as Spydra was. How had she known to be where all the action was twice?

“I don't know but … nghhhhh ….. but …. I hope to find out soon,” Spydra said her pained voice telling Neyra the heroine was doing some hard work.

“Keep me informed, and baby, I love you. Come home safe,” Neyra said, concluding their conversation.

“I love you too, keep in touch!” Spydra replied.

Neyra bit her bottom lip, eyes misting as she closed in on what was home. It distressed her to hear Laura in pain but she knew even as they spoke she was probably already on the mend.

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

The lights flickered to life inside the storage unit illuminating the interior. Ashley pulled the door closed behind her sealing herself inside with Erin who held herself in pain as she sized up the black clad motorcyclist in front of her. The space seemed to have been set up like a small workshop, a red bike stood on a stand to one side while a workbench and tool cupboards lined one wall.

"Who the hell are you? Who is that other woman?" Ashley exclaimed. Dismounting her bike, removing her helmet Ashley revealed her balaclava covered face. Her tone was weighted with anger.

Having exposed herself to danger in a bid to look for Cruz the plucky police officer felt Erin's meddling had ruined her chances to find the man who kidnapped Neyra Thornton. If she had been able to get Cruz she might have had  a way to get leverage over The Club.

"Listen lady, you've no idea what you've just gotten yourself in...unghhh'" grimaced Erin in pain as she dismounted the bike, the excess chain tethered to her ankle in her hands.

"Me?! I've been waiting a long time for a way to uncover the...god .....you...you're hurt," Ashley had begun to protest before she realised Erin was in a bad way, her face changing from anger to concern seeing Erin struggle.

"Uncover what? The Club? Who do you think was shooting at us!?" Erin asked with discomfort as she raised her top to see how hurt she actually was. 

"You know about The Club? Who are you? And what do you know about that other woman, who is she?" Ashley asked as she reached into a cupboard of her little workshop space and pulled out a first aid kit.


Erin looked at the black clad woman trying to weigh up what she should tell her. The mysterious motorcyclist had rescued her and Neyra Thornton and Erin felt she could afford to give up a little about herself.

"My name is Erin Tate, I am a reporter with The Bugle. I was abducted by a man I know as Cruz. As for the woman, her name is Spydra. I have no idea who or what is beneath the mask but she can do things, freaky things. I don't know her well but I'm sure she's with the good guys," Erin said. As she spoke she looked with distress at the emerging bruises forming across her flesh.

Ashley prepared a bowl of warm water at the small basin where she would wash her oily hands after working on her bikes then beckoned to Erin to approach her. “Let me see to your injuries and then I will figure out how to get that chain off of you,” Ashley said.

“Th.. thank you,” Erin said as she watched Ashley prepared the first aid kit.

"If you know of The Club then you've got to understand why I'm trying to keep my identity secret. I have been working for years now trying to map out their organisation. I don't think their power is total but they are close. A few more years, a few more important positions in their grasp and they will control everything. I think Cruz has a link back to The Club and was hoping to use him to get leverage on them," Ashley went on as Erin approached.

"So that's why you're pissed at me, you thought I had wrecked your chances?" Erin replied drawing a reluctant nod from the motorcyclist.

Ashley would not had been so angry if she had known Erin had been taken there and beaten. And oh what a beating. The lines and stripes formed by the leather punctuated by the occasional outline of the metal buckle had cruelly marked Erin's flesh. Ashley gently began to bathe Erin's wounds causing moans of discomfort.

“Did he ..” Ashley began to ask tentatively, wondering how far the assault had gone.

“NO … no.... I mean he tried but … Spydra stopped him... I … I hope she is okay,” Erin said defensively.

"You should report this," Ashley said quietly trying to keep to Erin's mind off of Spydra. With a sniper taking shots at them all the likelihood of survival seemed low.

"To who!? The police? I just literally escaped from a room of bad cops when you came along!" Erin snapped.

"Bad cops? Do you know who they were?" frowned Ashley, pausing in her work.

"Some I know professionally! When Spydra pulled off their masks I... I couldn't believe it! I can't go home now, I don't think I could even make it to work without being arrested!" Erin exclaimed. The reality of the situation was setting in as fast as the bruises were developing over her body.

"Erin, don't you see? It will be them that will be scared! I will be surprised if the police aren't short some officers tomorrow." Ashley said enthusiastically resuming giving her tender attention to Erin's injuries.

"That's what Spydra said too but I will believe that when I see it. Those bastards were actually coming to kill us, Cruz too! I can't trust the police, the whole lot might be rotten," Erin said in a moment of reflection.

"There are plenty of good guys left, we aren't all... " Ashley said, her guard slipping a moment. In anyone else's company that might have been a fatal mistake.

"WE?" Erin exclaimed, recoiling from the mask wearing Ashley realising she was a cop too.

"Erin, I'm on your side, I promise. It was me listening in to bad cops that helped me know Neyra Thornton was going to be abducted. I'm sure detective Brockman is not in The Club and I know the names of some uniformed officers who I'm sure are clean too. But who did you see? Who did your friend Spydra uncover?" urged Ashley, trying to get Erin to confide in her.

"Sargent Taylor for one, Sargent Bishop too, there was a few others I don't know but I'd recognise them again," Erin said.

"Taylor? Then no doubt Thompson was the sniper, he was a marksman back in the day.." Ashley said with a shake of the head.

"Captain Thompson too? How far up does The Club reach? I mean if they have a captain then...." Erin paused as she began to imagine to what level the corruption ran.

"It reaches almost to the very top but if we work together we can bring them down..." Ashley began.

"But how?" Erin interrupted. Right now the situation seemed desperate. Fighting back seemed to be flight of fantasy to her, running away seemed like the only option.

"They have a weakness, a secret that they think only they know about. This secret is part of the reason why they wanted to abduct Neyra Thornton,” Ashley explained.

"And what secret is that?" Erin asked, flinching as Ashley worked on a painful bruise.

Suddenly the unit doorway lifted exposing the two women inside. Ashley's hand reached to the underside of her workbench for a pistol that was hidden there and began to remove it. Erin recoiled in fear only to see.....

"Yes.... what is it?" Spydra asked confidently.

Erin bravely put herself between Ashley and Spydra, the balaclava wearing cop discouraged from even contemplating a shot. Spydra knew though that Ashley's  thoughts of shooting had dissipated the moment she had seen who it was. Entering inside and letting the door fall behind her Spydra's arms rose in mock surrender, only a hint of a limp betraying her rapidly recovering injury.

Spydra's speed of recuperation was phenomenal. Get hit hard enough and it would hurt but bruises, torn muscles, ligaments or broken bones would repair really quickly, especially if she kept her energy up. Her relationship to bullets and knives though was more complicated. Naked, Laura could be cut or shot. How bad that would be she didn't know for sure but certainly she would bleed like any regular person but recover at a speed no one else would. Once in her suit though things changed. The suit was somewhat resistant, but not impervious to bullets and knives. Any normal person wearing it would get that benefit too. But on Laura, her robust body backing up the suit made it more effective at protecting her and itself from damage. In short, it wasn't that she was nothing without the suit, but rather the suit was a lot less without her in it.

“You … you escaped! Somehow I knew if anyone could have gotten away it would be you,” Erin exclaimed, relieved to see Spydra alive.

“You followed us here? How?!” Ashley demanded to know doing a double take of the newcomer. Looking at how the pair were dressed and their similar frames it became obvious how there had been confusion about the identity of “the woman in black”. Everyone had thought she and Spydra were the same person.

“Trust me, she's very mobile,” Erin said, managing to sound light hearted a moment despite the seriousness of the situation.

“I'm sorry I was snooping at your door but I wanted to listen to learn what you were like before entering,” Spydra said, her head gesturing at Ashley.

Ashley looked at Spydra then to Erin, “You trust her, don't you?”

Erin nodded in reply. Right now she felt she was in the safest possible company.

“We are all in this for the same reason. Something is going on here in Littleton, something bad, but perhaps together we can put things right. So, what is this secret?” Spydra asked as she approached.

“The man in charge of The Club as far as I can tell is William Kohl,” Ashley began to explain.

“William Kohl … but he's one of the most senior police officers here!” Erin said in disbelief.

“Of course ...” Spydra whispered to herself. It was Kohl that had taken her alter ego, Laura, and Neyra's father to one side during the benefit event, isolating them from Neyra while she was being abducted.

Ashley nodded, “He murdered my father and buried the body in what will become the parking area of the new civic center.”

“There is a body down there?” Erin asked, turning to Ashley.

“But not only that. Kohl the fool dropped his police ID down there by mistake when it all happened,” Ashley went on.

“When was this? They have only just torn down the old building,” Erin suddenly wondered.

“My mother was still carrying me when it happened. It was her and my uncle who explained what happened to my father when I was old enough to understand it all. My uncle witnessed Kohl and another man lure my father to his death. For years I have been searching for a way to link Kohl to corruption in the city but when I learned they were going to tear down that building I knew this was a chance I couldn't afford to miss to get that bastard once and for all,” Ashley said, her tone drifting from sadness to anger as she had told her tale.

“No wonder it has been so hard to get that civic centre project going! The Club have been resisting it all along,” Erin realised.

“But I guess that means the Mayor is clean, he's been pushing harder than anyone to get it done,” Ashley added.

“I don't know what will be found in the ground but it is obvious some of the police are corrupt. If we can take out the top man we may be able to end this club once and for all but first we will need a plan,” Spydra said confidently.



= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

[Abductorenmadrid]

Here is the last installment. If you have enjoyed this story then please leave a comment, it will be really appreciated, thanks!

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

FRIDAY


Spydra: …... but first we will need a plan.

Ashley: A plan? Well – all we need to do is get the remains of my father and Kohl's badge, right?

Spydra: If that badge has been in the ground for as long as you say it might not be in any state to prove anything.

Erin: You think we need more on them, don't you...

Spydra: If they are going to strike back I think we can use that to our advantage.


= = = = = = = =

It was a cold morning and Bishop blew warm air from his lungs into his hands which were clasped together in front of his face in a bid to warm them. Bishop was parked in the large empty parking lot of the Littleton Lions baseball ground. Standing by his car Bishop observed a black SUV approach.

“About time,” Bishop groaned. He had barely slept all night and this early morning reunion while necessary was certainly not welcome.

The SUV pulled up alongside Bishop's car and stopped. It was Taylor with Lamb and two other men from the uniform division who had also been at the store, sat in the back. Hopping out the newcomers joined Bishop, their expressions on their faces saying everything.

“Well this is going to shit and fast,” Taylor began, skipping the pleasantries.

“You've got that right! What the hell are we doing? We need to get out of here,” Lamb began, his voice stressed.

“Relax will you, Kohl has a plan,” Bishop said gruffly, though while his words were firm he had doubts.

“Relax? I take it you have been getting the same fucking messages the rest of us have all frikkin night!” Lamb cut in.

“He's right, the club is meant to be secret and we've been outed in public so it's kind of hard to relax or aren't you following current events?” Taylor followed on.


“Of course I have, idiots!” Bishop retorted. The feedback from overnight had been incessant, keeping him awake. Whatever they had started when they had gone to kill Erin, Cruz and the woman in black had burned on like a fire even after they had dispersed to plan their next move.

“OK, you frikking cheerleader, what IS Kohl's plan then?” Taylor asked sarcastically.

= = = = = = = = =



Erin: And what do you think their first move will be?

Spydra: Well, if it were me I would want to rally the troops. Kohl will try and mobilize everyone to look for us and especially you, Erin.

Ashley: Makes sense, Kohl will want to pull out all the stops to prevent Erin telling her story.

Spydra: Let me do my thing. There are still many hours of darkness left. By the time the sun comes up I think I will have put off club members from coming in to work.

Ashley: Oh yeah? How do you intend to do that?


= = = = = = = = = = =

“Kohl is going to be getting as many club guys together that aren't on duty and have them look out for that damned reporter,” Bishop started.

“After all the shit from last night he should count himself lucky he still has us, let alone anyone else he can muster!” Taylor scoffed. Little did he know that across town that point was making itself patently clear.

Chief Police Commissioner Westerman made his way from his car in the car park. Dressed in his deep blue great coat over his uniform, his peaked cap on his head, he was a formidable sight. As he crossed over towards the HQ entrance he paused mid step and turned to look at a group of police cruisers parked in a row.

Daubbed across the hoods of all the cars were similar messages.

“SGT TAYLOR, BISHOP AND LAMB – ALL CROOKS!”
“BISHOP – TAYLOR – LAMB – CLUB CRONIES!”
“CITY SAYS NO TO THE CLUB!”

Westerman's eyes burned at the vandalism. Done to his vehicles, HERE? At HQ? Bishop was known to Westerman, Taylor less so but Lamb was an unknown, no doubt a junior officer. Westerman took a deep breath as his mind whirred, there would be an investigation and the vandals brought to justice! And as for the officers named in this attack he would get to the bottom of why they had been singled out.

Westerman turned to head into the the HQ build and …

BUMP!

“Oh... I am so sorry!” Westerman said, spinning into a young woman who had somehow appeared into his path.

“Oh, my apologies, I am Laura Granger, of The Bugle. There appears to have been a spate of vandalism against police vehicles all over the city. From Brookside, to Southbridge, Westfield to Millers Hill, do you have any comment?” Laura began, holding up her press badge, tape recorder in hand. She deliberately sought to fluster the commissioner, putting him on the spot.

“Granger? The Bugle you say? I, I am really sorry I can't give a comment just yet as I haven't had an opportunity to get all the facts yet, but we will put out a release,” Westerman replied.

“OK, thank you for your time,” Laura replied with a smile. She could tell that Westerman was at least a little upset at what had happened to his cars and that would no doubt feed back to Kohl, piling on more heat. At least Laura knew that with a good jet-washing the poster paint would eventually come off all the cars she had vandalised.

A much troubled Westerman proceeded to the HQ building and after passing the lobby security made his way up to the upper floors where the offices of the senior officers were.

= = = = = = =


Spydra: By the time I am done every bad cop on duty will know their secret little club has been exposed! Nothing makes cockroaches scatter than a little light cast on them.

Ashley: That's a lot of cars, you sure you can cover all that ground in the dark hours that are left?

Erin: Well, even with us on your bike she managed to follow us here. Besides, she doesn't need to get them all.

Spydra: I can manage it and will stir things up at HQ. No no doubt it'll leave Kohl and his men rattled ...



= = = = = = =

Kohl stood over his desk, head down as he listened to his intercom. He had come into work early after receiving word on the failed plot to kill Cruz and Erin Tate and was trying to manage the crisis. The bad news however kept on coming.

“Sir, this is Sargent Northolt. I have a staffing issue brewing here. About half a dozen officers have reported being too unwell for duty today. I am working through the reserve roster trying to make up the numbers but it's a similar tale there,”

Kohl rubbed his tired eyes in thought as he tried to think around the problem in silence.

“Sir?” Sargent Northolt pressed.

“Yes, dammit, I am thinking! OK, the outgoing shift ends soon. See if you can keep some of them on for overtime. I will sign off on the budget. Have the duty Sargents mix anyone staying on with the fresh men coming onto duty,” Kohl said.

“Yes, sir,” Northolt said, ending the call.

Kohl slammed his fist onto the table in deep thought then raised his head only to see the shadow of the one man who out-ranked him, Chief Westerman.

“Oh, Sir, I ...” Kohl began.

Westerman entered Kohl's office, slinging his cap under his arm.

“Have you seen the state of our vehicles in the lot, William? What the hell is this all about, do you know?” began Westerman as he walked towards one of Kohl's office windows and looked out and down on the duabed cars.

“No but it's probably just a limited incident sir,” Kohl began.

“LIMITED? There was a reporter out there who just sprung a question on me about it. Apparently vehicles in at least four boroughs have been vandalised over night!” Westerman said sternly.

“Reporter?! WHO?!” Kohl snapped back, accidentally forgetting his place.


“Someone from the Bugle. Granger I think was the name. William, I know we have been under a lot of press scrutiny of late but it comes with the job, keep your head,” Westerman said. He could see Kohl was phased but didn't know why.

Kohl nodded subtly while his eyes seemed to look vacant, thinking hard. Granger … it was familiar and yet ...well at least it wasn't that wretched Erin Tate out there, gloating, Kohl thought.


“Never mind then. I've got the maintenance section assessing what we can do to clean up our patrol cars,” Kohl said, changing subject.

“What about what those messages say? What is this CLUB they mention, does it mean anything to you?” Westerman continued.

“I have no idea but we will get to the bottom of this,” Kohl said, watching Westerman as he turned from the window.

“Very well, keep me updated,” Westerman said as he walked away.

“Yes sir,” replied Kohl his eyes tracking Westerman leave his office before his betrayed his rage. They had to find that bitch Erin Tate and shut her up, permanently.

= = = = = = = = =

Erin: OK, so what next?

Spydra: Erin, you represent their biggest threat. They will want to stop you telling your story.

Ashley: Yes, they will be looking for you, limited numbers or not.

Erin: If you put me in leathers on that red bike of yours I could just ride in, no problems.

Spydra: I think they will know that too. Either way they will take precautions in case you do make it through.

Erin: Precautions, like what?



= = = = = = = = =

At the Littleton Lions baseball stadium's carpark the group of corrupt cops listened to Bishop and the plan that he had been given by Kohl.

“We are going to place a cruiser at The Bugle's offices to discourage Erin coming back, Thompson will be watching too,” Bishop explained

“But if she makes it? It's risky!” Taylor said.

“We are going to be putting leverage on the chief editor, Barnes. He's Erin's boss. She can't print a word without his approval and he is going to let her hang out to dry,” Bishop continued.

“And why would he do that?” Lamb asked doubtful of Bishop's certainty.

“He will do it because we are going to get LEVERAGE,” Bishop said.

= = = = = = = = = =

Ashley: You really think they would go that far?!

Spydra: When they wanted control over the construction site and Carl Thornton, did they go direct to him? No, they tried to abduct his daughter instead.

Erin: Oh no, you think they are going to try the same thing with Barnes? We have to warn them.....

Spydra: Oh I will but I think we could use this as an opportunity to strike back!

Erin: What … what do you mean!

= = = = = = = = = =

Principle Francine Barnes was sat at the desk of her office going through some reports. Although teaching had been her love the rise to the top during her career had taken her further and further from the classrooms. Now her world was reading financial documents, dealing with staff issues and overseeing building maintenance. At least now and then she could get involved with her young students, judging the science fair for example.

Francine's cell phone rang, coming to life while sat on her desk and after first pausing she then tentatively reached out with her hand and picked it up. The number was unknown but she accepted the call, hitting speaker-phone.

“Hello?” Francine began.

“Is this Francine Barnes?” asked a male voice.

“Hello, yes. Who is this?” Francine replied.

“I'm with the Littleton City police, I'm afraid I have some bad news. It's your husband, Rory. There has been an incident at his work place,” the male voice continued.
“An incident!” Francine exclaimed.

“Please, ma'am, we can talk more when you get here. Your husband is at Central Hospital in Millers Hill. We can explain everything when you arrive,” the voice explained.

“Central Hospital, Millers Hill. I.... I am on my way....thank you,” Francine said, memorizing the location.

= = = = = = = = = =


Erin: You can't think they would take Fran? In broad daylight?

Spydra: Erin, from what I recall they took Neyra Thornton from a party full of influential people!

Ashley: It would be a gamble for them, but it kind of fits their M.O as we know it so far.



= = = = = = = = = = =

Francine hurriedly walked to her car, her staff now aware of where she was going. Standing by her car she reached into her bag to pull out her keys. Her heart was racing and her nervous hands seemed to shake as she rummaged around inside the bag.

That's when the men struck, the neighbouring van's door sliding open and dragging her inside. Hands held her limbs while another clamped over her mouth until, wide eyed she realised she was at gun point surrounded by four men in balaclavas. Everyone's eyes did the talking, and slowly the van pulled away, taking Francine Barnes away to who knew where.

“When we get clear we will call your husband, Francine and see if we can come to an arrangement,” one of the masked men said calmly.

= = = = = = = = = = = =


Ashley: Francine is one avenue but what about Cruz? He has important information.

Erin: We were so close to having him! He could be anywhere by now though.

Ashley: True but his options are very limited. He knows the police within The Club were out to get him and he probably suspects he was set up. It leaves him few friends right now and people like him when they are running do the same thing, they go back to their roots.

Spydra: There was a group he used to belong to that he may try and get in touch with again. I will see if I can prepare the ground for Cruz to feel welcome if he reaches out to them.

= = = = = = = = = = = = =

Jorge Cruz, bruised, hungover and tired walked head down, hood over his head, hands in pockets, trying to look inconspicuous as he walked into a diner. His gauze covered bite wound burned his flesh, a painful reminder of Erin's resistance. As he entered he went to go to his usual spot then saw two police officers sat at the bar, backs to him as they drank coffee. Quickly pulling a u-turn Cruz looked to the booths around the corner and headed there.

“Morning, I will be right with you,” said a waitress.

Cruz said nothing and took a seat, out of sight of the two police officers who were finishing up their drink.

It was quiet and the waitress soon walked over towards Cruz and pulled her notepad from her pocket a long with her pencil, ready to write.

“What can I get you,” smiled the twenty-something year black african american woman. Her curly locks drawn back into a ponytail.

“Who's yer cook today?” Cruz asked bluntly.

“It's Ricky on today – you heard he does great eggs, right?” the waitress said, glancing over her shoulder towards the hatchway and the kitchen beyond.

“Yeah, good, Ricky, eggs. Tell him Jorge, Jorge Cruz is here. Remind him it was me that Wickes ran with, back in the day. I need … I need some digs...I need him to help me” Cruz sounded meek, almost repentant.

“Oh sure, and what would you like to order?” the waitress asked.

“Please …. ask him?” Cruz asked, his anxiety rising as the police officers rose from their stools at the counter and turned to leave.

“The manager says I'm not to let people block up seats if they don't order...” the young waitress said, nervous she might offend.

“Fine … fine …. get me coffee, black, and eggs.....eggs on toast, okay?” Cruz said snapped, his voice rising a moment before he managed to hold himself back as the police left.

= = = = = = = = = = = =


Erin: OK, so while you are doing all that, what will we be doing?

Spydra: Well, the one thing Kohl thinks he can count on is the secret that is buried in the ground.

Ashley: My father's body. We have to get to it first and we need independent witnesses so that …

Spydra: But what if … what if they were to get to it first?

Ashley: We mustn't let that happen! I've been waiting ever since the plans for the new civic center came up!

Spydra: I know but Kohl's desire to secure it may lead him into making mistakes!

= = = = = = = = = = = = =

“Littleton Police Department, Sargent Roscoe speaking” Roscoe began. He was stood behind a large counter at the front desk of the Southbridge station house.

“Hi, I am the duty foreman over at the civic centre construction site in Southbridge...” began a male voice.

“Oh, okay. And what can we do for you?” Roscoe replied.

“We were doing excavation work removing concrete sections this morning and … well... while the men were separating the removed concrete from bedsoil they discovered a skeleton and clothing,” the male voice continued.

“OK, don't touch anything and ...” Roscoe began to caution the foreman.

“Well that's the thing. The concrete, skeleton, bedsoil and so on had been lifted by excavator and run through the separating machine. When they boys realised something was wrong though they managed to capture it all … it was gathered into a box,”

“OK, I am going to have to ask you to halt work and we shall send a detective over right away, do you understand?”

“Yes sir, we already had everyone cease work at that part of the site,” the foreman replied.

“Thank you. A detective should be on site soon,” Roscoe said, scribbling on his pad furiously.

= = = = = = = = = =


Ashley: That's a big gamble we are taking if you do it like that. There are details we don't know. If Kohl picks up on them ….

Spydra: A long time has passed. And with things having been in the ground so long, he probably won't notice,

Erin: Aren't we going to need people on the inside to make this work?

Spydra: Yes, but Carl Thornton will no doubt cooperate to help bring his daughter's abductors to justice. The fact they were going to blackmail him means he isn't in their club, we can trust him.

Ashley: You … you're right I guess.

Erin: But this will come to a head eventually. Kohl's men will have Francine, they will have the body too. What do you think will happen when it all comes together?



= = = = = = = = = = = =

On the open air top deck of the multi-storey car park the van holding Francine Barnes sat alone. Inside the van, Francine was bound and gagged and blindfolded, sat in one corner in the back huddled in fear. Sharing the rear space with Francine were two Club members, off duty police officers who had been beaten by Spydra the night before. In the front of the van Lamb, Taylor and Bishop sat waiting for the appointed moment to make their call.

“It's time,” Bishop said, looking at his wrist watch.

“Who's doing it?” Taylor asked back.

Bishop looked to Lamb sternly, he was the junior ranking man there. With an outstretched arm Bishop thrust Francine's phone to Lamb.

“Oh jeezus christ,” Lamb groaned, and rolled his eyes.

“Do it!” Bishop insisted.

“Fine, let me find his number...” Lamb said sharply as he accepted the phone, snatching it from Bishop's hand.

“And put it on speaker, we want to hear,” Bishop said gruffly.

Lamb sorted through Francine's address book on her phone and came across Rory Barnes' cell phone number.

“OK .. here goes,”

BOOOOOOP – BOOOOOOOP – BOOOOOOP warbled the ringing tone over the loudspeaker.

“Hey, Fran. You okay honey?” asked Rory Barnes with concern.

At the sound of her husband's voice Francine erupted into a frenzy of muffled appeals for help through her taped over mouth. Her body kicked and writhed to make noise and draw attention, all in a bid to let Rory know she was there.

“Fran? What is it?”

“Keep her quiet will you?” Lamb said, the two men in the back of the van quickly overpowering Francine once more.

“Now LISTEN very CAREFULLY, Mr Barnes....” began Lamb again.

“Who is this?! Was that Fran? What's going on!” demanded Barnes.

“Shut up Mr Barnes or things are going to get complicated very quickly, DO YOU UNDERSTAND?” Lamb said sinisterly.

“Wha …. what do you want?” Barnes replied in resignation of the situation.

“Erin Tate – has she reached out to you since yesterday?” Lamb asked, his voice relaxing a little more.

“Erin? No … she's been missing since …. since yesterday …. is this something to do with her?” Barnes asked, his tone distressed.

“Well, she WILL, and when she does I need you to give her these instructions ….” Lamb continued.

“Wait …. I … I want to know my wife is okay first … let me speak to her ...” Rory said meekly, his demand sounding timid.

Lamb, Taylor and Bishop exchanged glances and after a little thought Bishop nodded his approval.

“OK Mrs Barnes, now you behave or there will be trouble,” Lamb said, talking into the back of the van while his eyes motioned to the men guarding Fran to prepare to remove the tape gag.

One of the men grasped the edge of the tape and with a firm tug wrenched if free of Fran's mouth, letting her speak.

“Rory?! Rory! It's me ….” Francine began.

“Francine? Oh my god are you okay?” Rory's voice could be heard to say on the phone.

“I'm okay, I'm okay, please do what they say, I ....” Francine began to yell before the tape was replaced over her lips, silencing her words.

“Francine? FRANCINE?” Rory pleaded.

“Relax Mr Barnes, now, listen to my instructions and Francine will be back home before you know it,” Lamb said, his glaring eyes seemingly trying to bore into the man at the other end of the line.

“Okay, okay … I … I'm listening …. I swear …. just .. please don't hurt my wife,” Rory pleaded.

“Good man ….. now then … when Erin gets in touch with you ...” Lamb said, starting to give Barnes his instructions.

= = = = = = = = =



Ashley: What do you think they will want?

Erin: It will be me, won't it? They know I won't go to the office... it … it'll be a trap!

Spydra: That's right. They will tell him to lure you out and perhaps bring any evidence you have with you. They may even want us all to go. But whatever happens I am sure it will be a trap waiting for us.

Ashley: If they are going to want the women in black too all three of us will have to be there.

Spydra: No, we have something credible to say that will excuse one of us. Erin and I will go, you will be needed elsewhere.

Ashley: Oh? Where?


= = = = = = = = = = =

Ashley loitered in the locker room. The out going shift had left, the new comers shift was already on duty and so Ashley was alone, hiding, waiting for her moment. Dressed in her police uniform Ashley checked over herself nervously.

Mace, night-stick, tazer, magazines, they all sat neatly in their pouches of her belt. She checked the action of drawing her pistol from her holster. The smooth action made a reassuring positive sound as she drew then re-holstered her weapon.

Ashley checked her cell phone again, re-reading the message that had been sent to her.

“Detective has collected body – he is on his way back!”

Ashley took a deep breath then, patting the pocket of her deep blue trousers she produced a palm sized piece of electronics and turned it on. Wincing a moment Ashley turned a dial on the black box then fiddled with her ear, an earbud in her ear softly hissing static at her. She would know when the time would be right to act.

= = = = = = = = = = = =


Erin: Well that's great and all but it's me they want to shoot.

Spydra: No one said it wouldn't be dangerous, but think of the story afterwards!

Ashley: I don't know what's worse, being me inside that den of vipers or being you in front of the firing squad.

Spydra: I wouldn't do this if I didn't think I could protect you, Erin. Besides, the best piece they have on the board won't be there. The sniper, he will probably be looking out for you at The Bugle.

Erin: Great, I am sure that will be a reassuring thought as they spring their trap on us.

Ashley: Everyone will have to act like that trap has worked if we are going to pull off our plan, Barnes too. If people in this club are everywhere they might even be watching him.

Spydra: Do you think he can do it, Erin? Can he act it out?



= = = = = = = = = = = =

Barnes paced his office, a sweating hand running through his hair, the strain of waiting for Erin causing his stomach to somersault. If Erin didn't call right now he might just …

BLEEPDIPY-BLEEP …....... BLEEPDIPY-BLEEP sounded Barnes' phone as it rang.

“Oh boy … ok ok ok....this is it,” Barnes said to himself, psyching himself up for the conversation to come.

“Bu..bu ...Barnes” Barnes said shakily, his eyes slamming tightly closed as he chastised himself inside his head and tried to get a hold of himself.

“Boss, oh thank god! It's me Erin!” Erin began, her tone somewhere between excitement and terror.

“Oh .. oh Erin .. thank god ..you're safe,” Barnes said, trying to keep his composure.

“Boss, I . I have a story … evidence … but … I can't come in...” Erin stammered.

“Can't come in? Why … are you trapped somewhere?” Barnes asked.

“No, not that but … it's the police! They tried to have me killed. If it wasn't for the women in black I … well I don't want to even think about it!” Erin explained.

“Killed?! My god what is going on?” Barnes asked.

“Don't you see? The police force is riddled with corruption. But I have a source, someone with information. But I need to get it to you,” Erin went on.

“Oh god, there was a patrol car parked across the street, is that them do you think?!” Barnes said, rising from his seat and peering out the window.

“I … I don't know. All I know is I can't come in. We need to meet somewhere...” Erin suggested.

“Meet, yes …. YES …. I … I have somewhere in mind. Bring what information you have with you and I will see what I can do with it,” Barnes said as he looked at his scrawled notes. The man who was holding his wife had already given him a location where to hold the meeting.

With an anxious glance Barnes looked out into the offices beyond wondering anyone was spying on him and if they were buying their performance.

= = = = = = = = = = = =


Erin: Yeah, I think he can do it well enough if we explain it to him. Besides, they will have his wife. What is there to act?

Spydra: True....

Ashley: I am not looking forward to my part. There are club guys mixed in with good cops and I don't know for sure who is who. Some, sure, but I can't account for every one of them.

Spydra: All you need to do is lay low until you have what you need. It might be you get nothing. It might be you get something, or even everything. Then it's up to you what you do with it.



= = = = = = = = = = =

William Kohl stood at his window and looked down below to see a car pull into the lot. It was the car of a detective, a club man, and he had been pre-allocated to deal with any calls to the civic center in anticipation of the discovery of the body of Jake Castle, Ashley Hill's father.

The detective parked his vehicle and walked around to the back, popping open the trunk and leaning in. Kohl watched on sombrely as the detective slid a large semi-opaque plastic storage box towards himself before lifting it out. It seemed quite weighty to Kohl, the body language of the man lifting the box betraying its weight.

The detective set the box down a moment, slammed closed the trunk and then, with a flexing of his spine glanced upwards to see the distant figure of Kohl looking back down at him. The detective subtly acknowledged Kohl then turned to face the box. He flexed at the knees lifting the box once more and began to make his way to the side entrance of the building and the forensic section's processing area. Inside the locker room Ashley waited patiently, the sudden noises she heard in her earbud causing her to cock her head and listen with concentration.


= = = = = = = = =



Spydra: You know it might be painful what you hear when they recover your father's remains.

Ashley: I know, but if I can't be in the room then I want the next best thing. I want to hear what they have to say for themselves.

Erin: Just, just be strong.



= = = = = = = = = =

William Kohl descended to the basement level of the police HQ building. The pristine white laboratory like flooring shone under the bright lights. Kohl rarely went down to this part of the building, except when they wanted to show off some new piece of lab equipment. Now though Kohl was focused on another task.

Kohl entered into one of the forensic areas and saw the laboratory manager stood by an island worktop. On the worktop in the center was the plastic box. Despite being semi-opaque the dark mass of “something” could be seen inside.

“William,” the manager said, acknowledging Kohl's arrival.

“This box and its contents were NEVER here, understand? It's not to appear on any logs, any test results, nowhere, understand?” Kohl cautioned his colleague.

“Of course … do you want me to ...” began the manager.

“No. I want time alone with ...'it' ...and when I am done THEN you can dispose of everything. Understand?” Kohl said sinisterly.

“Yes, of course. I will have the team go out for lunch, so you can have some privacy” the manager said before leaving.

Kohl watched the laboratory manager leave then turned to face the box.

“Oh Jake, it has been a long time ….” sighed Kohl.

A few floors above him Ashley listened intently to her earbud as Kohl sighed, the box was wired for sound.

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =



Ashley: I can do it, I know, but it will be nothing like what you are likely going to face.

Spydra: I can imagine them letting Rory and Fran go without a fight, they probably wont have seen their faces.

Erin: But us?

Spydra: Do I really have to spell it out? We are loose ends!



= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
Rory Barnes stood by his car in the open some twenty five yards away from the van holding his wife. Hands on his head he paced anxiously waiting for Erin and her friends to come. They were on a concreted area by the side of some railway sidings. A few freight cars without an engine waited, silent, still, ready for their next journey.

“Time's almost up, Barnes!” one of the five balaclava wearing men shouted.

“She said she would be here, I swear!” Barnes replied, throwing his arms down to his sides in dismay.

In the distance the sound of a motorbike approached. At first it was like a high pitched whine but as it neared the deeper more throaty tones became noticeable. Growing nearer and nearer more of the corrupt cops hopped out the side of their van, one of their number pulling Fran out the back and clumsily to her feet.

Spydra, dressed in bike leathers and a tinted helmet over her mask gracefully swung her leg off the bike, hopping to her feet to one side of the black machine. With a shrug of the shoulders Spydra let a backpack slide off her back and held onto one of the straps. Erin, also in leathers and a helmet killed the engine of the bike and dismounted, dropping the kick stand before taking her position on the opposite side of the bike from Spydra.

Rory Barnes looked anxiously at the pair, his hands rising in despair.

“Boss … what .. what is going on? Why are THEY here?! You aren't in this club too?!” Erin said feigning surprise.

“I'm sorry, Erin ...they got to me first! Look they have Fran! I swear, I'm not in on this” Rory began.

“Where is the other one?! We know there were two in black and Erin makes three, so where is the third member of your little act?” demanded Bishop, gesturing with his pistol at the two women. He couldn't see beneath their helmets and wearing Ashleys red and black bike leathers Spydra's more distinctive suit was hidden.

“She's DEAD – She bled out thanks to your sniper, you cowards,” Erin exclaimed, raising her visor.

Bishop recalled Thompson's protests when the others accused him of failing at his task. But he had insisted he had at least winged one of the women in black and that seed of doubt gave Erin's lie credibility.

“You should never have got in the way. It was you who kept coming looking for US, remember?” Bishop said.

“You know there will always be good people out to stop you!” Erin growled.

“But without PROOF you have nothing and if you want Francine here back you better hand it over!” Bishop said through gritted teeth.

“You bastards! You knew we would bring it all to Barnes!” Erin said, glancing at the bag in Spydra's hand.

“Of course, we knew you would want to get your story out! Now bring it here, I want to see it ….” Bishop ordered, pointing to a spot just ahead of him.

Erin looked over her shoulder at Spydra who advanced, eyes scanning everyone, feeling every emotion directed towards her. Rory Barnes was willing her on, Erin's mind was fearful for the heroine's life while the men with guns, their fear of her drove their desire to kill her except something held them back.

Spydra advanced to Bishop, one of the men holding Fran increasing their grip, afraid of what the woman in black might do as she neared. Spydra slung the bag to Bishop's feet and backed away, hands raised.

“Well, let's look here ….” Bishop said, crouching down to the bag, unzipping it open.

Inside were dozens of tape cassettes, CD's in their cases, obvious clandestine photos of club members, documents and on and on and on.

“Satisfied?” Erin shouted.

Bishop looked to Taylor who reached into the back of the van and pulled out a fuel can. Walking over to the bag on the floor the mask wearing Taylor poured petrol over the bag and retired.

“Let her go,” Bishop said, his grin hidden by his mask.

Lamb who was holding Francine tightly released her and she trotted across the divide back to her husband, Rory. Reunited the pair embraced each other tightly, Erin and Spydra giving them a nod.

“Go on then, you two, get out of here,” Bishop said, gesturing to the reunited husband and wife.

Rory looked to Erin and the woman in black. “I … I'm sorry...” he began.

“It's ok boss .. we will figure out another way...” Erin said despondently.

Rory nodded subtly in agreement and entered his car, joining his wife who had already buckled herself into the passenger seat. With a turn of the key Barnes' car roared into life and sped away leaving Erin and Spydra looking at four armed masked men.

“It was never meant to be like this,” Bishop began as he produced a box of matches.

“You're right, you're sworn to uphold the law, not bend it how you want,” Erin retorted.

“You know the law can be an ass. But look what we have done for this city! And all you want to do is fuck it all up,” Bishop said as he struck the match.

Letting the small match head burn bright, the wood started to burn orange before Bishop he let the mini inferno drop to the bag. Erupting in flames the bag began to burn black, the plastics inside along with the glossy photographic paper melting first before burning up.

“You may have won this time around, Bishop, but I WILL get you. That evidence is gone but what Taylor and Thompson did in Brookside?! That's going to nail you and your little club,” Erin said, the flames reflecting in her eyes.

“Oh I'm afraid this was your final deadline Miss Tate...” Bishop said sinisterly as he raised his pistol.

Erin looked anxiously to Spydra, the reporter raising her hands in surrender.

“You're making a mistake, Bishop,” Erin shouted nervously.

= = = = = = = = = = = =

Kohl reverently popped off the lid of the white box using his latex gloved hands, unsure what he would see. Once opened though he could see the box was fairly tightly packed, much of it damp soil. In the soil, there seemed to be fabric, perhaps the decaying clothing that Jake had worn that fateful night.

“I never thought I would see you again. That hole, that was supposed to be forever ...” Kohl said as he looked into the box.

Ashley sat, head in her hands as she listened to Kohl's words. She battled to compartmentalise the story that he was starting to tell. It was evidence, that was all. She just needed to listen, weigh its strength, and decide when there was enough. Only, it wasn't just evidence. It was a story about a childhood lost or diminished at least. A story about her life without her absent father. Sure her mother had loved her and her uncle had been close too but …

Ashley blinked and took a deep breath and tried to focus again.

= = = = = = = = = = = = =


Ashley: If you think it is going to turn ugly I can give you a gun, Erin.

Spydra: No, no guns. It makes her even more of a target. I need them focused on me.

Erin: Spydra is right. Besides, I have seen what she can do, I trust her.

Ashley: Fine, but I'm not going to leave you completely defenceless ….



= = = = = = = = = = = = =

Spydra and Erin glanced at each other and reacted swiftly, Erin quickly moving to take cover behind the bike.

Taylor, Bishop, Lamb and the other two balaclava wearing cops began firing. The bike erupted into sparks as it took some hits but Erin was mostly shielded from danger. Spydra on the other hand somersaulted towards her attackers shedding her red and black leather jacket and helmet as she did so and landed squarely in front of Taylor, unharmed.

“Look out!” Bishop yelled.

“Fuck, it's the freak!”

PHUT! PHUT!

At point blank range Spydra shot a web at Taylor's feet and yanked hard pulling his support from under him sending him to the ground. His gun clattered from his hand to his side and he patted at the ground desperately for the weapon as he sought to take in a breath for his winded lungs.

A second web engulfed Lamb's balaclava covered head sending him to the floor wailing, his eyes burning from the sting of the web in his eyes. Temporarily blinded he dropped his weapon as he sought relief from his agony.

DANGER! Screamed Spydra's senses. The two other police officers that had flanked Taylor spun to face her and she instinctively twisted her body side on to them, presenting a narrow target ….

BANG BANG

Spydra heard the whistle of the two rounds, one coming from her left, passing by her shoulder blades the other from the right, crossing just above her breasts. Spydra went momentarily rigid as the bullets passed either side of her body with mere millimetres to spare.

THUD-THUD!

With a groan the two other cops fell back, each hit square in the chest by their comrade, a red mist hanging in the air a moment where each of them had stood.

“Jeezus!” wailed Taylor seeing the two men fall dead either side of him.

Bishop who had tried to pick Erin off by the bike turned to aim at Spydra, stunned to see she was still alive and took aim. Spydra sensed the danger and took aim out to her side, not even looking at him and unleashed a web, tugging his gun from his hands.

Taylor finally managed to place his hand on his own gun, and went to aim up at Spydra who stood over him and...

CRUNCH

Spydra's foot firmly stamped onto Taylor's wrist pinning his arm to the ground, the sound of breaking bones obvious to them both.

“Fuuuuuuuuuck ! Fuck you !!! Who ARE YOU?” screamed Taylor.

“I” growled Spydra as she turned to see Bishop trying to flee on foot.

“AM” she continued as she aimed at Bishop's feet.

“SPYDRA!” she finished as a web line fired out, lassoing Bishop's feet causing him to fall flat on his face.

Spydra looked back at the bike they had ridden in on and suddenly realised Erin was flat out, not moving, behind the bike.

“Oh no!” Spydra exclaimed.

= = = = = = = = = = = =



Ashley: What about Thompson?

Spydra: Well, we think he will be positioned to prevent Erin making it to The Bugle alive. After all, they might think she will try to sneak in there while we are supposed to exchange for Francine.

Erin: There are only a few buildings that have a good vantage point of The Bugle's parking area. He will be there, won't he?

Spydra: Yes, once we've got Francine back I can go look for him.

Ashley: If things don't pan out with the box I hope to help you with Thompson.

Spydra: As much as I want your help I hope for us that the plan with the box works.


= = = = = = = = = = = = =

Ashley, eyes misting, wrenched the earbud from her ear. She had heard enough.

“You're going to burn for this, Kohl,” growled Ashley as she rose from the bench by her locker.

Striding purposefully from the changing rooms Ashley appeared in one of the corridors of the HQ and began to walk angrily to her destination.

“Oh hey, Hill,” an officer managed to say happily only to see her brush by him, ignored.

Ashley walked on and on, past unsuspecting administrators and desk workers until she arrived at the door of the dispatchers room. Glancing either direction and seeing the coast was clear Ashley ducked into the dispatchers office unseen.

“Dispatch, Ten Baker Forty...” said the dispatcher into her radio headset.

Cocking her head the dispatcher listened to what was being replied in her ears, her fingers clacking at the keyboard as she typed some data onto her computer that was in front of her.

“Dispatch, Ten Baker Forty, understood,” replied the dispatcher and turned to face Ashley who had entered...

“Oh hey Asshhhh oooooooh … okay …...what …. what's going on, Ashley?” the dispatcher said.

Lorraine the dispatcher had worked for the Littleton Police for around ten years. Well liked, clear and concise on the radio she was the communications lifeline for the officers in the field. Now, that lifeline was looking down the barrel of a gun, the gun of one of their own officers.

“Hands off the SEND key, Lorraine,” ordered Ashley causing Lorraine to raise her hands. She was dumbfounded to be in the situation she was now in.

“P..please … don't hurt me!” Lorraine whimpered.

“Lorraine, I don't have time to fuck around so …. The Club … I KNOW you're in it and it's about to come down. Do you understand me?” Ashley said, one hand aiming her gun, the other making sure the door stayed firmly closed behind her.

“I .. I … Ashley please ...” Lorraine stammered. One minute normality, next minute this!

“Shut up Lorraine and listen. There are a lot of good people who got trapped on a slippery slope here. I can't save them all, but you do this … and I will speak up for you, understand?” Ashley said angrily.

“The club .. but .. I barely do anything for ...” Lorraine protested weakly.

“LORRAINE, you may not have created the orders but I know they needed you to pass them out. And you said NOTHING. Now make this right, Lorraine,” Ashley said with venom.

“What … what do I have to do ?” Lorraine said, the words barely coming from her mouth.

“THIS – I want you to patch it into Tac 3 -” Ashley said, producing the black device in her pocket. A receiver with built in recorder it had captured Kohl's voice as he had picked through the white box. Pulling out a memory stick and putting it in her pocket she then placed the box down on Lorraine's workspace.

“Tac 3 … ok … ok ...” Lorraine nodded, as she prepared to tap a line into the device.

“And I am going to need the keys for this room,” Ashley added as with her free hand she produced her handcuffs from the pouch they were stored in.

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

Spydra drew the helmet from Erin's head, the brave blond reporter grimacing in pain beneath.

“Fuck me that hurts!” Erin groaned as she clutched her side.

“The kevlar stopped it, it's not gone through you,” Spydra said, examining Erins bike leathers and feeling the nugget like bullet bound up in the weave of the kevlar lining inside.

The black leathers, the ones that Ashley wore during her hours as a vigilante were kevlar lined in key places. It was this that she had promised to use to keep the plucky reporter safe.

“Tell that to my ribzzzzz, oh fuck. And I thought Cruz and his belt was bad,” Erin said, her head rising from the floor a moment to look down at herself.

“You are going to live, painfully for a bit, but you're going to be fine...” Spydra reassured Erin.

“Thanks, doctor, now go find Thompson. If we were right you know where he will be,” Erin said, the pain of just breathing revealed in her expression as she spoke.

“Oh I will, but first I better get those men secure,” Spydra said, pointing back at the three men who were groaning on the floor.


= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =



Erin: Just one thing though. Once we get everything we need, who are we going to turn it over to? If this works out as we think it will there will be people that need to be arrested. We can't trust the police to do it so … who?

Spydra: You told Bishop and Taylor you were going to call people in the federal agencies.

Erin: I would if I had access to my phone, or my computer but, I can't get to either. At any rate they aren't exactly high level people that I know ...

Spydra: I might have a way in. I don't know how it will play out though. If we did manage to get hold of the FBI where is their nearest office?

Ashley: The last time I remember anyone talking about them they said it would take them about three hours to get here by car.

Spydra: Well, I'll do what I can, no promises though.



= = = = = = = = = = = = = =


FBI Agent Helena Swift and her partner Leo Rudd drove their black SUV into the city of Littleton, passed by the center and straight on through, following their GPS as it took them to the far side of the city towards a more industrial area.

“Well, we're here!” Swift said, unimpressed as she undid her seatbelt.

“Bet you never imagined this would be where you would go for your first day,” Rudd said.

“Well it could be worse. I've heard all sorts of horror stories about newbies like me on their first day,” Swift responded. She glanced around and it seemed this part of town was dead.

“Yes Littleton is certainly better than MY first day ….” Rudd scoffed.

“Oh, what happened?” Swift asked, eye's widening.

“My first day? Picking through some crazy old militia nut's house after he blew himself up making pipe bombs. There were pieces of him everywhere,” Rudd said, shaking his head. It wasn't a sickening memory now, but it had been an unpleasant way to start day one as an FBI agent.

“Yes, I think I've gotten lucky with this one,” Swift nodded.

“So, here we are, Littleton, we've arrived, what should we do?” Rudd asked, like he was setting a question in a Quantico classroom.

“Well, they teach us to give the local LEO's a heads up when we show up in town. With this sort of intelligence though we need to do things differently,” Swift answered her mentor.

“Yep, so if this turns into nothing we can beat a hasty retreat like we were never here but if this tip off is right we can justify not introducing ourselves,” Rudd explained.

“The tip off, you said it was from regional level? Is that usual?” Swift wondered.

“Not always but if the source was from here and if they fear the LEO's are a problem then it makes sense they would go higher up,” Rudd answered, checking his cell phone for more news.

“So, I am not seeing anything going on here, how long should we wait?” Swift asked.

Suddenly a silver Mercedes appeared and screeched to halt as it passed the black SUV before backing up. From the driver's side Rory Barnes appeared looking really stressed. Nervously he approached the parked SUV only to be confronted by the dark suited agents inside who stepped out from their vehicle.

“Are …. are you the FBI? Did … agent …. what was his name … McCreed... McGee... did he send you?!” Barnes asked desperately.

“Yes, sir, now keep calm, who are you? What is this about?” Rudd began, Swift letting her senior partner take lead.

“Oh thank god! I … I am Rory Barnes, editor for a paper here. My wife was abducted, I've just got her back, she is in the car,” Barnes explained.

Francine appeared from the passenger side of the Mercedes looking frantic.

“Rory, tell them to hurry … Erin is back there and ...please, just hurry!” Francine begged.

“Erin?” Agent Swift asked.

“Erin, she is one of my reporters. She had evidence the kidnappers wanted back. They made me lure her out as a ransom for Francine. But there is something you have to know. The kidnappers... they are police officers!” Barnes explained.

Rudd and Swift exchanged glances. The rookie's first day was going to be more interesting than she thought!

= = = = = = = = = = = = = =


Ashley: Are you sure you can take Thompson alone?

Spydra: He's in shape, sure but I've faced more difficult opponents. It's if he gets a bead on me at distance he has the advantage. Once I am up closer it's less of a problem for me and more so for him!

Erin: Well no matter what happens I suspect my part will be over. I am either going to be leaving the scene in an ambulance or handcuffed in the back of a cop car.

Spydra: You are going to be fine, Erin.



= = = = = = = = =

Spydra pulled a bottle of replenishing energy drink and found it barely weighed anything, the subtle sloshing indicating she had run it nearly dry. Taking the last sips from it she placed it back on her belt and felt around for the next full bot...

“Oh! Only one left?!” Spydra exclaimed.

During her own self discovery, then her training and even the 'test' that Selena and Lucy had prepared for her she had never come close to running down her energy drinks to zero. She had of course trained with Lucy, powerless, from time time but this was different. Having been out all night, painting her messages on police cars and navigating the city on webs she had finally managed it. One last bottle remained before she would need to get fresh supplies.

Thompson was “out there” somewhere, no doubt camped on a roof top overlooking The Bugle's offices and with this last bottle of fluids she would have to find him.

= = = = = = = = = =

Thompson lay prone with his rifle while with his spotting scope he searched for his target. Erin was a no show so far which no doubt meant she would be on her way to her meeting with Barnes who he had observed leave. If she wasn't here then, she was probably there.

“So, Erin, you're probably going to do the noble thing then,” Thompson thought to himself.

The steely grey haired man took the handset of his radio that stood next to him and spoke into it. The last message he had received was from Bishop telling him that Barnes had arrived for his wife and they were waiting for Erin and her friends to bring any evidence they had.

“Unit Baker, this is Unit Sam, still no sign,” Thompson said. By his side was a small backpack he had taken with him to his perch and pulled out a sandwich and began to bite into it. Being up on a roof and alone meant bringing his own supplies.

Pausing a moment he frowned realising no reply had came back. Chewing the mouthful of sandwich and swallowing it down Thompson pressed the send button on his radio again.

“Unit Baker, this is Unit Sam, come in,” Thompson said over the airwaves.

“ATTENTION ALL UNITS – PREPARE FOR PRIORITY MESSAGE TAC 3” suddenly came back. Broadcast over all the individual frequencies police officers would set the radios to TAC 3 the “HQ broadcast only” channel. No one else could broadcast over that channel, only listen, ensuring a message could not be blocked.

“What the!” Thompson exclaimed, recoiling from his radio a moment in surprise.
Thompson's mind whirred. Had they missed something? A priority broadcast on TAC 3 could only come from the HQ building. Had they been out-manoeuvred?



“What's going on!” Thompson growled as he reached the radio preset dial and turned it back from TAC 6, the often unused spare channel he and his corrupt colleagues were using to TAC 3


# Oh Jake, it has been a long time ….#

Thompson instantly recognised that it was William Kohl's voice.

“What are you doing, Billy?” Thompson growled.

#It's a sad thing, to see you reduced to nothing more than what fits in a plastic storage box#

“Shut up! Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!” Thompson said, rising onto his knees. Up there on his perch he felt powerless.

#To tell you the truth I never thought I would see you again. That hole, that was supposed to be forever#

“Oh my god he is going to rat us all out!” Thompson thought. Had the old man broken under the pressure?

#Oh well, I guess I get to tell you properly WHY it had to end the way it did. You see, the people I work for, they made the case for the long con. The patient game ...#

Thompson could sense his world ending! Why was Kohl doing this? They were on the verge of getting everything they had worked for. The chief, he was retiring soon and Kohl was set for top spot. Thompson could move up, promoted, Taylor too ….

#They knew I was just a little dirty, my links to you showed them that but unlike you, I had worth. And they offered me more than you ever could. Your hundreds was their thousands and it didn't even have to be all bad! They called it …. joined up thinking … and it has been perfect for us ...#

“You're telling them EVERYTHING? I . I've got to shut him up” Thompson said frantically. Scanning his surroundings he wondered if .. it might.... it might just work!

#We would run the drugs, keep the town supplied just right. We keep the local druggies happy without letting it become endemic. Let my paymasters have that and our reward would be some union help#

Thompson walked around the perimeter of the building, looking, looking, loo...

“Yes.. I SEE YOU!” Thompson growled. Way in the distance for a much longer shot Thompson could see to the upper floors of the police headquarters.

Thompson glanced back at his rifle which was still on its bi-pod pointed off in the other direction and had to decide. He was giving up on Erin. She had more likely gone to the meet with Bishop and the others and was probably dead now. But if he didn't silence Kohl fast? He was going to bring everything out into the open!

“Dammit, Billy,” Thompson growled as he returned to his gear. Gathering up his rifle he made his way back to his new vantage point leaving his small back behind.

= = = = = = = = = = = = = =

Agent Swift and agent Rudd covered each other as they walked into the scene of the hostage handover.

“Hands on your head! Identify yourself!” Swift demanded of Erin who had propped herself up by the bike. Still injured.

“Tate, Erin Tate, reporter ….” Erin said painfully.

“OK roll over, arms out to the side, palms face up!” Swift commanded Erin.

Erin had been warned this might happen by Spydra and their female masked cop friend, and being in the company of two visible dead bodies nearby it was no surprise it did. Erin painfully rolled over onto her front and put her arms out to her side as commanded.

Swift cuffed Erin's hands behind her back while Rudd edged anxiously forward towards the two dead masked bodies on the ground. Stooping to the ground Rudd checked their condition while keeping a watchful eye on his surroundings.

Erin groaned, forced to lay face down on her damaged ribs. The toll from the previous night's beating at the hands of Cruz and now this was adding up.

“You're injured?” Swift asked.

“Like you wouldn't believe but I'll live” Erin replied slightly caustically.

Rudd clicked his fingers, drawing the eyes of his partner and indicated with his hand that the two on the floor by him were dead.

“There are three more, captured. They are in the van. Look out for a handbag in there, it has a dicta-phone inside, it should be running.” Erin explained, turning her head towards the woman who had handcuffed her.

“If what the Barnes couple have said is true you won't need to stay in these for long. Just stay quiet until we sort this out, understand?” said Swift quietly.

Agent Swift rose to her feet, gun raised and followed Rudd as he approached the van that had held Francine. As they quietly approached the could hear voices echoing inside. Rudd put a finger to his lips, hinting to Swift to stay hushed.

#....The local Auto Union to be exact. A cooperative union encouraged the engine plant to expand#

“What is he DOING!! We have to get out of here and shut him up!” Taylor exclaimed. Kohl was confessing everything, on air!

“Can't either of you make any headway on this crap! I can barely move! The other two, you're sure they cant help?!” Bishop asked angrily.

“They were right by me, they killed each other trying to kill that bug eyed freak! Fucking morons! At least we got a few hits on that fucking reporter bitch. With luck she won't be telling anyone anything!” Taylor snapped back.

“Well I hope someone shuts up that old bastard soon before he says something he regrets! The radio broadcasts get taped!” Lamb reminded the others.

As the trio wriggled and writhed in their web restraints all they could hear was Kohl's broadcast condemning them all.

#Sure those union guys would take it in the ass … for a while at least just to get the new plant going..#

“Did you hear all that?” whispered Swift to Rudd at the door of the van.

Rudd nodded then placed a hand on the van door and flung it open!

“FBI !!!!” Shouted Swift and Rudd as they confronted the bound men.

= = = = = = = = = = = =


#But with it all came the jobs and money. Do YOU think you could have done so well? We are thriving without you!#

Thompson reset his rifle on its bi-pod facing off towards the police HQ building. The shot was going to be long if he felt he could take it. First though he would have to see if he had a line of sight to Kohl, wherever he was.

#Those jobs and the money kept coming and now our next big reward is due, a casino! Your hundreds remember, were their thousands, and when that casino comes it will be worth hundreds of thousands! Clean legal money kicking right back to US!#

Looking down his scope Thompson scanned and scanned until he could see Kohl in his office through a window.

“Broadcasting from there, huh!” Thompson said looking intently at who he now perceived as an enemy.

Inside Thompson's mind he knew had to do a whole load of new calculations. A slight tailwind aiming at The Bugle building was now a crosswind to the HQ. The range he had planned for by his estimation had tripled too and on top of that what had been a steep downward elevation had now become just a subtle angle.

KERRCLICK-CLACK sounded Thompson's rifle as he placed a round into the chamber.


ZRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRIIPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP!!

The sound of something running along a zip line suddenly could be heard causing Thompson to lift his head from the scope and look behind himself towards the source of the noise. Onto the gravel covered roof Spydra landed at a trot before sliding to a stop. She had burned through a lot of energy to find him but it appeared she had arrived just in time.

“THOMPSON!” Spydra called out.

“You …. but …. I shot you!” growled as he rose to his feet.


“Yep and now I get to shoot you back!” Spydra said gleefully! Raising one arm she took aim and ..

PHLRGSSSSH...

What was normally a wicked catapulted blast of web fizzled out as a weak sputtering mist. Spydra was running on empty and that realisation was written all over Thompson's face. Time was running out for him, but if he could take out this interfering woman first he might still get that traitor Kohl before it was too late!

Pulling out his side arm Thompson took aim …

“Oh !” gasped Spydra.

“YES – OH!” sneered the tall lean SWAT captain.

= = = = = = = = = = = =

Officer Ashley Hill proceeded up to the top floor of the HQ building knowing that Kohl's poisonous confession was playing out over the airwaves. She had found the laboratory empty, the contents of the box spread out over a workbench and assumed Kohl had retreated to his office. She was going to make him take back some of his more hurtful words, the lies that were burning at her as she marched on towards her destination.

Ahead was Kohl's office, the door closed and she stormed in only to see …..

“Billy, what.... what have you done?!” Chief Westerman demanded glancing over his shoulder as Ashley entered.

Deputy Kohl was sat behind his desk, an old tattered wallet, dirt ridden and wet in front of him on his blotter. Stood ahead of Kohl was his boss, Westerman the chief of police.

“DOES NO ONE KNOCK?!” Kohl barked.

“Not now!” Westerman ordered Ashley, not realising why she was there.

“Sir, you don't understand …..” Ashley began to explain, looking to Westerman.

“What is this about!?” Kohl asked, subtly sliding the wallet into his desk draw.

“Your confession on TAC 3, Kohl, you are finished! I can't believe I endorsed you as my replacement when the time came,” Westerman said angrily.

“Confession …. TAC3? What are you …. wait ...” Kohl stammered as he reached to his intercom. Pressing the radio button and then the TAC 3 preset he was stunned to hear his own voice.

= = = = = = = = = = = = =

Thompson fired his weapon at Spydra who back flipped across his line of sight.

BANG BANG - BANG BANG – BANG BANG – BANG BANG – BANG BANG – CLICK – The ten round clip of Thompson's pistol ran dry, his normally accurate shooting no match for the elusive and fast moving heroine.

Spydra slid to a halt only to see Thompson with a snarl let his magazine drop to the floor, his left hand slamming up another clip into his pistol.

“No!” Spydra gasped. She had no means to pull that gun from Thompson now. She would have to get right up close to put a stop to him.

Seeing the heroine run right at him Thompson the steel grey haired SWAT captain took aim and …

BANG! Spydra jinked to the left, the bullet whistling by her.

“Why....”

BANG! She jinked again but to the right!

“...won't you ...”

BANG! With a leap and a somersault the bullet passed beneath her,

“DIE ?!”

Little did Thompson know that with each shot Spydra had died a hundred times inside her premonition until she knew how to dodge death. Spydra landed directly in front of Thompson, a flailing arm landing squarely on the top rail of the pistol, her other hand breaking his grip on the weapon. With a clatter Thompson's Glock fell harmlessly to the floor. Instinct cut in for the corrupt cop and his left hand reached across his body and onto the handle of his tactical knife.

#We would go on to nickname our little group, The Club. And how The Club grew! The members may think they are free but, given little squeezes we can normally get what we want..#

SCHING! Sang the blade as it was drawn from its sheath and back-slashed towards Spydra's stomach.

“Uh” Spydra grunted, blocking Thompson's knife hand and twisting his wrist back towards himself.

“I don't know what you ARE, but …. I am going to END you!” Thompson snarled, taking in his own face's reflection in one of Spydra's mirror lensed eyes.

“Aren't ...nghh you listening? Kohl is ending … ngh-you !!” Spydra uttered back at the tall lean man.

Spydra pushed the blade as hard as she could towards Thompson's chest. Both combatants strained for control until Thompson unleashed his forehead into Spydra's masked face. The pair broke apart the knife falling to the floor, but Thompson felt he didn't need it now, Spydra was weakening. Thompson advanced on the reeling heroine with only his fists as his weapons

#We own lawyers, local bankers, local politicians and who knows, one of them may become a congressman or even a senator. Hell we may even one day start to own a judge or two!#

WHAM – WHAM – WHAM – a weakly blocked combination of right, left, right, hit the heroine across her masked face sending her to the floor.

Crouching over Spydra Thompson's left hand gripped her throat while the edge of his other palm pressed onto her pussy, his fingers cruelly gripping around her groin. Spydra gasped as her air was cut off and writhed against the sensations down below. This was a duality of sensations Spydra had not experienced since her battle with The Albino Man but this distracting weakness had existed since the very start of her awakening.

Had Spydra any energy left her web ducts would have been weeping in response to Thompson's touch. Seeing his foe convulse under his touch gave Thompson pleasure, his member hardening in response to her powerlessness.

Inside her head Spydra could feel Thompson's desires. Roughly finger fucking the heroine, he hoped to melt away her resistance and leave her a moaning sweat soaked mess. Then, once she was in the depth of her orgasmic spasms as he forced her to cum he would throttle the life from her.

To Thomspon though his desires had to give way to practicality. This was a time consuming distraction and hearing the radio and Kohl's monologue he needed to get rid of Spydra. Lifting the light woman by the throat and crotch, his rough fingers curled against her pussy and inner thigh. The tall man then turned to face the edge of the roof.

“Nghoo ..” gasped Spydra with her remaining air, her weak limbs trying to fight Thompson off.

“Time for you to go!” Thompson said callously as he dropped her over the side.

Spydra, her hands trying to grip Thompson's arms slipped down to his wrists and with one last scrabbling attempt to hang on failed. Her hands scraping down the wall and with so little energy left Laura could barely cling to anything. Without energy Spydra knew she had been rendered little more than ordinary.

= = = = = = = = = =

SOME MONTHS BEFORE

“ORDINARY? DON'T YOU DARE THINK THAT!” Lucy shouted.

Laura, in her gym gear and sparring pads recoiled from Lucy's sudden wrath. The young heroine-to-be had been intentionally allowed to run down her energy levels to experience some hand to hand work with regular strength. Now, with a bloodied lip and in pain from being beaten by Lucy, the young student had just told Lucy what she thought of herself. From the sidelines Supergirl, arms crossed in front of herself looked down humbly as the master chastised the pupil.

Softening a moment, knowing she had to inspire, not crush her student Lucy beckoned Laura to approach. Head down in shame Laura coyly stepped forward only for Lucy to place her hands on her shoulders and spin her to face Supergirl. With calmness Lucy looked to Supergirl who glanced up, taking notice of what was happening. Supergirl had to contain any reaction as Lucy winked at Supergirl unseen by the young protege.

“What do you see?” Lucy asked.

“Kara, Supergirl, of course,” Laura said with a frown.

“Here, yes, but what would she be if she had stayed on Krypton?” Lucy asked sharply.

“I.. I don't know...” Laura answered again. She had no idea, and to be fair neither did Lucy.

“On Krypton she would have been powerless, her sun making her normal. Just as you are now without your energy to help you. She might have been a waitress, a teacher, a shop assistant, a cook, a doctor, anything I guess, assuming such things existed on her world,” Lucy said sternly.

“I … I don't understand what you are trying to say,” Laura said, glancing over her shoulder to Lucy stood behind her.

“When Selena and I were in deep trouble on that oil rig Kara was a blind, broken wreck but it was her who wanted to get back into the fight. It was her that went in blind against a monster. The woman who wanted to do that wasn't the super-powered heroine, it was a cook, or a nurse, or a waitress. Don't EVER think that being ordinary will hold you back from doing incredible things. When the chips are down you will find a way,” Lucy lectured her pupil.

“I …. I understand...” nodded Laura, apologetically.

“I hope so, because the time will come I am sure when you are going to be tested. Now come on, let's try again,” Lucy said.

= = = = = = = = = = = = = =

Sliding down the wall by her fingertips Spydra caught hold of some architectural feature, some pronounced brick work or something like it. She didn't care what it was, all she knew was that this thin brick ledge about twenty feet below the roofline saved her.

Snarling, Thompson looked over the edge to see the heroine hanging on by her finger tips but moved away. She didn't know if he was going to retrieve a gun or if he was going to continue whatever plan he had in mind with his rifle but the fear he was coming to finish her off forced her to act.

“Oh god oh god oh god!” Laura said in a panic trying to get herself under control.

Looking around herself she tried to map a new way back up. Her cling ability was minimal, she was going to need to climb back up without her full abilities, assuming she was not going to be attacked again.

Fortunately for her Thompson did indeed need to get back to more pressing matters, returning to his perch. To him the young woman was as good as finished and Kohl had to be killed before he said something directly incriminating him.

Traversing the ledge with her finger tips it was adrenalin fuelled muscle strength keeping her alive. Looking down was not an option but safe to say it was a long way to the concrete below. Now Spydra gratefully made it to some guttering and praying it would hold her weight she began to haul herself up.

The metal pipe was sturdily anchored to the wall and with what remained of her cling ability she hauled herself over the ledge falling among Thompson's things that he had left by his original position sniper position facing The Bugle offices. That's when she saw the can of cola laying inside the bag along with some snacks. Yanking the ring pull of the cola can Spydra pulled up her mask and gulped the black fizzing liquid causing it to foam in her mouth.

Laying prone, consulting some cardboard rotating disc like chart Thompson calculated his shot.


= = = = = = = = = = = = = =

#So, we had our plan, our joined up thinking but only one thing could ruin it. You, Jake. My new friends wanted me to build a team who they could control but you were in the wind. And you had too much on me if you ever turned. So it was decided you had to go, Jake#

Ashley drew her pistol and aimed at Kohl who slumped back in his seat. He recognised his own words, spoken only a few minutes earlier while he thought he was alone with Jake Castle's remains.

“You bugged the box ….. but wait …. it came direct from the building site with a detective,” Kohl said, still dumbfounded.

“That box contains rotting scraps of clothing and old animal bones from dumpsters. The REAL body is still in the ground. Thornton was VERY cooperative when I explained the need for this deception. You thought that body was a secret but my uncle Todd had been there and saw EVERYTHING!” Ashley said angrily.

“Todd … uncle? No … wait, you're Andrea's daughter?!!?” Kohl said in surprise his mouth dropping in sudden realisation of something.

Ashley let out a sly grin though Kohl's shock was not because of what she thought.

#So, yes I lured you out, that part you know, but you never knew that the man who pulled the trigger was...#

PHUSHHCRAASSSSHHHHHHHHHH!!

Behind Kohl the window exploded sending shards of glass everywhere. Kohl flinched and Westerman dived to the floor realising a sniper had fired into the office. The room was left open to the elements yet the broadcast went on, Kohl's monologue continuing while the man himself was left paralyzed in shock. Then Kohl blinked and saw his desk had a splattering of blood across it as did his face.

“Oh god … officer Hill has been hit!” Westerman yelled as he crawled towards her to help.

#..... Thompson... the kid you used to pick on in the grade under ours! But you know what? The saddest part was when you said you were going to flee with, who was it, Andrea? I wonder if she would ever tell you she suspected she was already pregnant …. with my child! It was going to be a girl. Or perhaps she would have let you think the girl was your own? You poor bastard, I literally took everything from you. I wonder what ever happened to Andrea in the end?#

Ashley's eyes looked up vacantly, her short tiny gulping breaths punctuating the tiniest grip she had on her life as blood formed a lake around her body.

Kohl blinked as he suddenly realised the horrifying truth. Andrea had a brother, Todd. But her surname hadn't been Hill. Was Officer Ashley Hill somehow Andrea's daughter? She just said she had an uncle Todd. But if that was true then ….

“No … no no no!” wept Kohl.

= = = = = = = = = = = = =

Thompson had seen the red mist in his scope and assumed he had hit Kohl but the monologue continued as if nothing had happened.

“Fuck! It's a RECORDING!” Thompson realised. He had pulled the trigger in time to prevent Kohl uttering his name only for it to come forth from the radio anyway.

“What have you done!” Spydra demanded.

#Ah …. and I need this …hmmmmm I shall keep this as a souvenir, not that I can get this darned ID wallet apart. But as for you, old friend, we shall find you a more permanent and fitting resting place, somewhere you can finally lie in peace, forever! Goodbye, Jake!#

Thompson's rose to his feet shocked to see the heroine back.

“You're too late. I've killed that rat Kohl and when I am done with you I will get to start over again. Erin will be dead. YOU will be dead. I may have to be patient but the top spot will be mine and I will be calling the shots in The Club”

Spydra could feel the strength building inside of her as she began to recover from her energy drain. It was slow in returning but already she had the energy to fight with.

“You've just been named as a killer by Kohl. They are going to put everything together and you will be going down for good!” Spydra said angrily.

Thompson walked up confidently to the woman he had just soundly defeated and swung a punch only to be blocked. The look in his eyes said it all. Something had changed!! Spydra began to rain punches on to her enemy which he parried as best he could, the pair rotating around their position as they fought. Trading blows and blocks Thompson found his task harder than the previous time and suddenly …

WHACK …

Spydra managed to land a firm strike into Thompson's chest causing him to stumble back and topple over the edge of the building, one hand barely holding on. Spydra dived to the roof edge arm outstretched in a bid to prevent Thompson's fall but …....

“Waaaaaaaaarghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh” screamed Thompson as he fell.

Spydra looked over the edge and saw Thompson's body on the concrete far below and recoiled away, sickened by what she had seen.

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =



Spydra: Once I've caught up with Thompson what do I need to do next?

Ashley: Once the FBI are on the case I am sure they will handle the rest. We may have lost some of the evidence I have gathered during the hand over to get Francine but we still have the juicy stuff left.

Erin: And what about Cruz and Flynn?

Ashley: Of all the cops in the department the one I am sure of is Detective Brockman. If you think Cruz will go back to Wickes and his friends to hide that is where I will point him. I am sure Flynn will come easily once Cruz rats him out ….


= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

Brockman led Cruz down the steps of an apartment block to his car, two trusted uniformed officers at his side. Having been given refuge inside one of Wicke's friends place Cruz had been quickly sold out. Now, in cuffs, head down, Cruz was tired and broken. Having been read his rights he said nothing, not even putting up a fight. Choosing to work with Flynn had been a mistake he realised and now he was going to have to pay. He wasn't even angry at those who had given him the false promise of shelter, the relief of not having to care any more adequate compensation.

As the the quartet exited the apartment building they arrived on the street, a medium sized dark coloured low flying helicopter passed over their heads. On its side was emblazoned FBI and it was headed towards the city center.

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =


Spydra: So, the plan sounds good?

Ashley: We are relying on you for a lot, but if you can do it I am sure I can keep up my end.

Erin: It's ambitious but we can do this, I know it.

Spydra: Erin, I need you to record a message for Barnes and Francine if I am going to be able to convince them to go along with our plan. Boy I have got a lot of calls to make too.

Erin: Sure, I can do that. I bet he will be surprised to see me safe.

Ashley: And then we are going to have to make this fake body in a box!



= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

Spydra watched from a distant roof top as the FBI helicopter landed at the police headquarters building, ten heavily armed men in combat gear escorting two others in suits. Called in from the nearest field office by Swift and Rudd they were there to establish their authority until at least some of the good could be separated from the bad in the den of corruption. Kohl's confession would be the start of The Club's undoing, but unknown to Spydra his grief for a dying daughter would do a whole lot more.

What was a secret from everyone though was Ashley had been Andrea's cold revenge. She had raised Ashley with her brother Todd's help and the pair plotted to use Ashley against her own father, the corrupt cop, William Kohl. Andrea had been dating Jake, but William had led her astray, only to abandon her. She was going to let Jake think the girl was his and live happily ever after only to learn Kohl had him killed, murdered while Todd could only watch on, powerless. What price had that revenge cost though?

Gazing across the city Spydra could only hope Erin and Ashley were safe. They had agreed the end game was the arrival of the FBI during the making of their plan, after that everything was out of their hands. Exhausted, Laura nodded, accepting the outcome. She had made mistakes but she had done her best. Thompson's death in her own mind was regrettable but she felt no guilt. Right now she felt nothing but exhaustion.

Climbing down the side of a building into an alleyway Laura saw Neyra who awaited anxiously for her special one to return to her. In her arms was a hoody and some jogging pants, ready to cover Laura up. But first would come the hug.

Wrapping their arms around each other Laura felt Neyra's love flow through her.

“Did you do it? I've been worried sick since you called me about this whole plan,” Neyra asked, breaking the embrace.

“I think this is the beginning of the end. They may even have the man who took you, Cruz. But the FBI have arrived now, there is nothing more I can do. Kohl's confessions and hopefully the recordings Francine and Rory have made for the setup will pile on the heat,” Spydra said, removing her mask.

“Father says his most trusted men will continue working on the Civic Center. When the real body shows up they will inform the FBI. It should be soon now they say.” Neyra replied.

Track suited and in her hoody Laura hopped into Neyra's car in the alley and Neyra set off for home. Having phoned in sick for Laura that morning the heroine had no need to be in work that day. Laura snuggled into the passenger seat and slowly her eyelids grew heavy until they closed and she drifted to sleep.

Neyra permitted herself a smile and clicked on the radio of her car, the music low. A track was midway through playing then slowly faded.

“Sorry about cutting across Beyonce there but we are going over to our news affiliate in Washington DC for some breaking news ….” announced the local radio station, the audio changing abruptly as the feed switched to some news channel.

Neyra had a sickening sensation as the memory of one September morning flooded back to her. She was quite young then but she remembered that similar change over as flustered news readers were trying to digest and analyze some terrifying news.

“Now to our correspondant at the Capitol, Vihaan Sood. Vihaan just for those who have just joined us can you recap what has taken place please,” asked the news channel anchor.

“OK, so about ten minutes ago we got word that the Vice President who, as you know was on tour promoting a new program to help returning veterans was interrupted mid visit by the Secret Service. There was a brief conversation, the VP made his excuses and then left. At the same time here in Washington we saw similar activities surrounding Daniel Slater, the Secretary for Defence, Sandra Payne the Attorney General and a few others. Now what is to note is that all these people, or their positions rather, are near the top of the Line Of Succession....” Vihaan explained.

“The list to determine who the next president is in the event of something happening?” the anchor replied with professional calm.

“That's correct yes. Now we know President Garrison had been in Camp David for some meetings but today she had moved on for what we had been told was some kind of technology demonstration. Now we don't know what that is exactly but it was a closed event with no press. We can only speculate that perhaps there was some kind of medical emergency or that perhaps something happened at this demonstration that we are not aware about yet,” Vihaan continued.

Neyra's heart raced as she listened to the news, wondering what it all signified. The sickening feeling in her stomach though was unpleasant. Hopefully what was happening was not anywhere near as bad as that tragic September day.

Hesitating a moment Neyra turned off the radio wanting to block out bad news just long enough at least to get Laura home. The red head had fallen to sleep exhausted and Neyra held her hand for just a moment.

That's when the cell phone rang, a moment that Neyra Thornton would never forget for the rest of her life. On the center console of the car the screen changed, her bluetooth enabled phone indicating an incoming call.


MCGEE!

Neyra accepted the call.

“Neyra, can you talk?”

“You're on speaker-phone in my car, it's just Laura and myself here. If it's about what's going on whatever you did worked ….” Neyra explained.

“Forget THAT! Tell me you have it! I know … I know the others wouldn't do it. That just leaves you and the kid and I am pretty sure that Kara would have chosen you,” McGee

Neyra was speechless, McGee meant Infinity, the secret that Kara had given her to babysit. This was the moment that was never meant to come but had arrived after barely a few days! She wasn't ready for this yet. This was meant to be Selena's responsibility!

“I .. what ...” Neyra managed, struggling to speak.

“Neyra, you need to keep your head. Do you have it?!” McGee demanded.

“Yes, yes, I have Infinity,” Neyra said sharply as she pulled herself together.

“Listen, it's bad. I need you to do something fast or Sel and Lu are going to be living in a box for the rest of their lives assuming they are alive at all!” McGee pleaded.

“What do you need me to do?” Neyra asked.


THE END

[DrDominator9]

This was a fantastic work of fiction start to finish!! I don't mean as a SHIP work of fiction, I mean as a general work that is worthy of being read anytime, anywhere. Excellent characters, wonderfully intricate plotting, exciting action climax...it's all here. Moving, realistic and uplifting. Thanks for sharing such a terrific story, AEM.

[Abductorenmadrid]

This was a fantastic work of fiction start to finish!! I don't mean as a SHIP work of fiction, I mean as a general work that is worthy of being read anytime, anywhere. Excellent characters, wonderfully intricate plotting, exciting action climax...it's all here. Moving, realistic and uplifting. Thanks for sharing such a terrific story, AEM.

Thanks for your welcome comment, I am so glad you got enjoyment from the story. I am particularly grateful you find it realistic which is the primary feel I am usually trying to pull off in my writing. While I do occasionally do out and out peril I prefer it to be organically integrated within the story and not the primary focus of it. For example, the psychological attack that The Albino Man uses in "Once Bitten", the breaking scene in "Twice Shy" or the "noise maker" trap that Spydra falls foul of in "False Flags". For the best part I guess I am more a SHIA, (SuperHeroine In Action) writer ahead of SHIP, but what is defeat when your heroine has had no time to shine ?

AEM