Chapter 9

The fire escape offered little coverage from the elements. Jane sat fantasizing about a certain mob boss' bloody demise in graphic detail while shivering in wet misery. She was doing her part in what amounted to one of the few jobs she could get with her shiny new PI badge. She was helping a local bond enforcement agent, Mack Hudson, track and take down a man that had jumped his bail a week prior. This one was known to be particularly dangerous, which is why Hudson had asked for her assistance. Apprehending criminals is what she was good at. If she couldn't do it as a police detective then she would do it as a private investigator.

The wet misery wasn't helped by her choice of attire. When Jane was forced to give up her uniform she embraced the somewhat gothic style she had always favoured as a teen in an attempt to rebel against her strict upbringing. These days she tended to wear dark, biker-like clothes with her black hair cut severely to her shoulders with straight bangs. She'd even indulged in manicured nails, painted shiny black with a tiny crystal skull glued to her trigger finger. Something a police officer would never be allowed to indulge in. She now doubted the versatility of wet denim and leather boots as she shifted uncomfortably on the metal grill and wondered if twenty percent of $25,000 was worth this level of misery. She never had been good at math.

"McKinley, you there?"

Jane rolled her eyes and, ducking her head to protect the short-range speaker from getting wet, said, "Where the hell else would I be Hudson?"

He paused, then said, "Thought you might've drowned up there."

"Fuck. You. Hudson," Jane replied, suppressing shivers.

It was his idea that she take the fire escape. His reasoning was two-fold. The building was old and he doubted the fire escape had been kept up to code. Mack Hudson weighed close to three hundred pounds of raw, ripped muscle. Whereas Jane was a little on the scrawny side, especially after her ignominious leave-taking from local law enforcement. They'd decided the odds of the rusty, precarious life-saving instrument was more in favour of holding her weight than his. Now, sitting three stories up during a downpour, Jane was feeling less agreeable to the idea. Hudson had also insisted she take the less dangerous avenue of their quarry's potential escape. Again, Jane was now less in favour of his questionable chivalry.

"Do you see anything?" her soon-to-be nemesis, current partner-in-apprehension, asked.

Jane swiped a small river of rain from her eyes and hunched in close to the kitchen window she was supposed to be covering. She couldn't see much. Blinking several times to clear the water from her eyes she looked again. This time she was able to see a dingy little kitchen, sparsely furnished with the bare basics of appliances and a small card table with one pathetic chair. No shadowy human forms were in sight.

"No," she replied sulkily.

They had no idea if their guy was even home or if he had any company. They had set up their stake-out three hours earlier and so far there was no movement. Leaning back against the railing, she settled in for more waiting. Until they had relatively certain confirmation that the trace was alone in his apartment they would maintain their positions in the stairway and on the fire escape from hell. After another twenty minutes of waiting Jane brought her hand up to ask Hudson a question, and dropped it. Then she brought it up again with purpose.

"Hey, Hudson."

"Hey, McKinley," he answered immediately, his deep voice rumbling in her ear.

She shifted uncomfortably wondering fleetingly if the grill was going to leave permanent marks in her backside. "Have you ever hunted any of the Russians?"

They both knew she didn't mean just any Russians. They were talking about anyone affiliated with Vladimir Sitnikov. Jane figured if anyone had the balls to take on the Russians it would be Mack Hudson. The guy was built like a tank and seemed to enjoy life on the fringes. He also appeared to have a disdain for living safely. His quick answer showed her that even Hudson had limits.

"No fucking way," he answered quickly. "Those guys are creative when they feel wronged, or annoyed, or even having a bad hair day. Anyone with half a brain would stay many miles out of their sphere of notice."

Jane closed her eyes and sighed. She waited silently.

Moments later she heard a whistle, "That's what you got fired over, isn't it McKinley? You fucked with the wrong crew, didn't you?"

Jane sighed again and refused to answer. Hudson was nothing if not dogged. He was the best bond enforcement agent in the state for a reason. He rarely lost a hunt, which is why Jane had agreed to team up with him despite their differences in the past. Cops rarely got along well with men of his profession. They were borderline criminals to most law enforcement. Now that Jane was enjoying some of the freedoms involved in working cases without a badge, she was less willing to cast stones.

"Holy shit, woman!" Hudson growled into her ear. "Heard a rumour that one of our city's finest dragged the Boss himself down to the station for a sit-down. I just assumed that particular officer was either dead or breathing through a machine by now. How the fuck are you still alive?"

Jane glowered and refused to answer. Again giving the big guy an opportunity to think things through. Finally he spoke, his voice sombre. "You're a beautiful woman, McKinley, and determined. Both traits a man like Sitnikov would enjoy."

"Shut up, Hudson," she growled in answer.

Now it was his turn to be silent. After several long minutes, Jane assumed he wouldn't answer back. Finally his voice crackled through the ear bud, "Why did he let you go?"

Jane closed her eyes and then stared out into the darkness of the quiet street below. "He didn't. I think he's waiting. Maybe for something to happen, or an opportunity. I don't really know. I'm living on borrowed time though."

"Sorry about that honey, wish I could help."

"Yeah, me too," she said with a sad smile.

He whistled again, "Thank fucking god we had this conversation. I was going to try to seduce you out of that sexy wet T-shirt you're wearing. Good to know you've been marked. I value my life too highly for a little tail."

Jane laughed out loud and had to clap her hand over her mouth to muffle the sound lest their quarry hear something odd out on the fire escape. Trust Hudson to lighten the mood with inappropriate sexual innuendo. "Hey man, I'm not just any tail. This is the finest piece of ass you'll never tap!"

Hudson was in the process of making another comment when Jane caught movement out of the corner of her eye. It was their mark. The giant ugly bookie stumbled into his kitchen from another room. He opened the fridge and stood looking into the pathetically empty appliance for a few minutes, leaning over and giving Jane a not so awesome view of his ass crack.

"I have confirmation, he's alone as far as I can see."

Hudson didn't waste any more time. They had been staking the place out for hours waiting for conformation that the guy was home. He spoke swiftly, "Get ready McKinley. I'm going to knock on the door and announce my presence. If he heads your way make sure you're ready. Use your taser if he resists."

"Copy," Jane replied.

She knew the moment Hudson knocked on the door because the big guy in the kitchen jerked his head turning toward the sound. Jane was in the process of standing up and drawing her taser when the unexpectedly swift movement of their quarry startled her. Instead of heading cautiously toward the front door like they had anticipated, he turned and hurtled toward the kitchen window where Jane sat crouched. She stood as he flung the window open, and drew her weapon.

He was busy climbing through the window into the dark, rainy night when Jane announced her presence. "Stop!" she snapped holding the weapon on him as much as she could in the tiny cramped space. "I'm private investigator Jane McKinley, you're under arrest for"

Jane found her leg taken in a crushing grip as the guy used her to pull himself the rest of the way out of the window. He didn't seem even remotely concerned about her. Deciding she had done her legal responsibility in announcing herself and her presence she kicked him sharply in the shoulder with her other foot to get him off her so she could tase him. He grabbed her other leg.

"Fuck that, bitch!" the guy snarled, "I ain't going to prison again." Using his enormous strength, he shoved her hard, tipping her over the side of the fire escape. Jane screamed as she went over.