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Walking the Line (Razgriz and Beautiful_Disgrace)

Adrian thought she would lose sleep that night now that someone had seen her identity, but she didn't strangely enough. It was hard to believe there was someone out there like her, but she could tell that he would keep his word when it came to keeping her identity a secret. Of course she would do the same thing, but it wasn't like she had anyone to tell. She had no friends, no family, and she had ran off the only person who had cared about her for good reason. She didn't want him around, she didn't want to see him die. She couldn't take another death of someone close to her.

The next few weeks went by business as usual. Nothing could deter her of her vigilante activities, and Joliet was slowly becoming less of a cesspool finally after much coverage from the media on her killings. She couldn't take a day off, not even once. If she let up, even for a day, then the garbage would collect again and no one would take it out. Joliet's PD wasn't incompetent, but they wouldn't give even half these criminals the sentence they truly deserved.

Now she had finally caught wind of something big going on in Joliet, and she had been looking into it for quite some time but hadn't actually gotten leads from it. There was human trafficking going on in Joliet, and it seemed like the biggest operation was run by the Latin King run off that came from Chicago. Another risky operation, since these were no small time thugs. She knew there was a risk picking a fight with them, just like with the Crips nearly two months ago.

None of that mattered though, not when she made sure there were no witnesses left to become a problem later. She wasn't scared of any gang bangers, no matter how organized their crime was, or how huge their member base happened to be. Tonight was the night, there would be an entire van full of illegal alien prostitutes fresh from the border delivered to Joliet. There would be some pretty important LK scum who would be in town, those were the ones she would target. After they made the drop, she'd wait for them all to get together in their crappy hideout, where she would pick them all off one by one like she did so many times to others before them.
 
The next few weeks came and went, the body count of the criminal underworld growing by the day; the inclusion of a new possible killer - evidenced by the extreme torture methods used whenever police would find these bodies - throwing the presiding detectives for a loop. Even if the Joliet PD was smarter than they appeared, they certainly were not making the headway they wanted to.

Which worked just as well for Shawn; sitting on the bed in some dumpy ass motel room, he was busy cleaning a new rifle and other knick-knacks for tonight's operation. Seemed the trafficking ring in Chicago spilled over, with a fresh load of border-jumper streetwalkers being driven in by the Latin Kings. He was going to go to Chicago to deal with the 'Incas' there, but unfortunately he had to deal with this first. Word had it from some of his 'interrogations' that a key figurehead in the ring - A Latin Queen, in fact - was going to be overseeing the operation. He knew how these scumbags operated: Promise them a new life, making their way in the USA, get them to walk the streets and sell themselves to johns so that they can finance their other operations under the table.

Not on his watch...If he ran into that woman again though, things might get problematic. She might be good, but taking on the Kings was a whole different beast. Crips and Bloods were like party clowns to these guys; if there was any gang that operated like the military, it was them. And for this, he needed firepower: A SCAR-H fitted with an M26 M.A.S.S. - the shells filled with flechettes to deal with any armor - , his trustworthy M870 Winchester loaded for double-ought buck, the suppressed Beretta he used on those Crip scumbags , and four flashbang grenades. In a way, he was going to war again, and this time the threat was domestic. One that people seemed to love turning a blind eye towards...

Loading the first clip into his rifle, he then loaded up his car with what little he had and took off: No way he was coming back to that room.

A few hours later, he was scoping out a Sam's Club building from a nearby rooftop through a pair of binoculars. Apparently, this store was a front from a manager that had ties to the Kings, and would always leave the doors unlocked and security systems disarmed to conduct their business in private. Sure enough, guards everywhere. Two with Mac-10s, another two wielded AK-74s; must be fairly confident with less than a dozen guards for such a large complex. He could see a few others but he couldn't see what they were using; doing one last ammo check and thinking it sufficient for this operation, he started to move forward, the black and gold of their clothes - one piece of which showed allegiance to some team from Chicago - coming more into view. He didn't understand a single fucking word they were saying, talking in Spanish mixed with English.

Just then, an unmarked black van pulled into a side alley, making Shawn duck behind a dumpster before it could shine his headlights on him; the two guards with the Mac-10s went around to the back and opened the doors, a gaggle of women starting to step out and look around before being ushered through the back entrance. At this, one guard gave the van a couple taps on its side, backing up and speeding off, the posts resumed. Shawn peeked over, seeing that they were definitely on alert; probaby the news of Crips being gunned down not too far had them shaken just a little. Likely still novice members, put on guard duty as an initiation rite. But this was as far up the ladder as they were going to get...

And just as he dropped the two guards on the side entrance with his sidearm, their bodies collapsing, he saw someone familiar....and he really should have expected it. "So, I take it our friends at the front won't be joining us inside?" he then asked sternly and in a whisper tone; seriously what were the odds she knew about this place?
 
He had guessed right, since she had easily taken care of the two guards at the front to make sure they wouldn't get in the way and was planning to do the same to the ones in front of the side entrance. She didn't look very happy to see him at all. Once again, he had surprised her, especially when he had told her he was leaving Joliet the last time they spoke. Coincidentally, her choice of weapons had been the same as the night they had first met. She had wanted to make sure that her work would be connected with the last hit on the Crips to send a message to all the gangs in the area. Although she had questions for him, they would have to wait. She had a job to do, but wasn't completely comfortable with having someone else along for the ride. Still, this wasn't entirely a bad thing, since this would be a tough job on her own.

"I don't know what you're doing here, but I'll make one thing clear. Don't get in my way." She whispered harshly to him before quietly opening the side entrance. All of her operations had been quick, and she liked to get the jump on her enemy and catch them off guard. Judging by their first encounter, he had a different style of cleaning up trash, however this wasn't a raid on a few thugs. Perhaps his next approach would be more subtle.
 
Eyes narrowed at the young lady as she so brashly started ordering him around; he just let out a 'Tch' as she opened the door, himself following her inside. She seemed well armed, but these weren't everyday bangers they were going to mess with. The Kings could easily be described as the most militant street gang, highly organized and disciplined, with members ranging from the common street enforcer to the highly trained hitman. They had their fingers in all sorts of pies too: Human and drug trafficking, racketeering, gun running were at the top of their list, along with them acquiring and assimilating other smaller gangs into their midst.

And right now, the two were literally going right into a hornet's nest: Soon, the Spanish began getting louder as they entered through the service exit; it seemed this was a staging area, where different groups of prostitutes would be shipped off to different areas of Joliet. And there was one that seemed to be shouting, herself pointing this way and that, clearly an authority figure: A leggy and admitted attractive Latina woman, wavy brown hair hiding a set of pouty red lips, herself dressed in fairly tight jeans and a plain Chicago White Sox T-shirt that covered a moderately-sized bust.

"Ok, looks like they're waiting for transports; probably going to drop a girl off all over this town. No doubt they already have whorehouses set up here if they're this developed. See the one barking orders? She's someone higher up, probably a matron responsible for hooking ops here." Shawn whispered, his voice drowned out as the apparent woman in charge had the would-be streetwalkers line up to inspect them. She started going down the line, touching up each individual girl; oh yeah, she was a control freak alright. And with how the men were keeping their eyes off of her, she was someone not to be fucked with.

Well, he and this girl were going to fuck with her...How it would play out was luck. After all, no battle plan survives contact with the enemy.

He sidled over from behind her and unhooked one of the M84 flashbangs, pulling the pins but holding the safety lever down. "You might not like this, but we're in this together now...So do me a favor and keep your head down, yeah?" And without giving Adrian much advance warning, he threw the stun device, two metallic clicks striking the floor before a deafening bang echoed throughout the room; everyone that got hit let out cries of agony as the intense light and sound crippled them, gunfire sounding off as they tried to hold off whatever threw that, the prostitutes all blinded and screaming in pain on the ground.

"Move right!" he shouted, breaking left as his SCAR-H barked, two bursts of the seven-six-two rifle dropping two Kings that had tried to get back up. But then more started to appear as a banger opened a loading bay door, showing about six more armed with assault rifles that immediately opened up and forced him to duck. All these gunshots meant they would have to work quick; he switched the fire select to semi-auto, barely peeking the corner as three headshots dropped three gangsters before he had to duck again, the Kings shouting orders for the assholes still struggling to get up to move their asses, but Shawn couldn't understand this, instead focusing on trying to drop as many of these Kings as he could.
 
He was right, she didn't like the fact that they were in this together. She didn't know how to work with people, but she supposed tonight she would learn. If she didn't cooperate with him, it likely wouldn't end well for either one of them. While new things filled her with uncertainty, a feeling that she hated, she got through them when she was forced to. Adapting was the only way she had survived for this long, after all. She would come out a stronger person after this entire thing was over.

When he pulled out the M84, she knew exactly what his plan was. While she had never used one before herself, she was very well informed with military tactics. Stun grenades were very effective for situations like these. Perhaps she was looking at this whole partnership all wrong. If he brought good tools with him, this would go a lot smoother. She supposed she could make an exception and follow his lead.

The chaos that was caused by the stun grenade was something Adrian would fully take advantage of. She was already moving right just as he told her to, with her M-11 aimed directly at four goons closest to her path. She took them down easily, a line of red spraying across the room as the 9mm bullets connected with their torsos while they were disoriented and trying not to collapse on the floor, but they were obviously low on the totem poll by the looks of them.

The return fire came quicker than she thought, but she found cover faster than they could aim at her behind nearby cabinets. She heard bullets ricocheting against the metal, but she took the time assess their positions just by hearing the noise of the ricochet. She waited for the sound to lighten before popping her head up and firing two quick rounds from her Browning towards the King's from the loading dock, successfully hitting the first through the head but only grazing the second in the arm when she had to quickly duck again to avoid being hit.

She could hear angry Spanish from the woman who seemed to be in charge of the girls. She'd have to kill her as well, she was just as guilty as the others.
 
The gunfight raged on, the two vigilantes dug in as the sounds of the fired shots rang out in the loading bay. None of the prositutes dared look up, their heads on the ground and hands covering their ears in agony; no doubt some of them were blind and a couple probably would have lost their hearing on at least one side. The Latina woman was slow getting up, her face feeling burnt since the grenade landed right next to her feet...When in fact it was. Part of her shouting was to kill the motherfuckers that did this. It didn't help that even after the effects of the initial stun wore off, no one from the Kings that got hit could see straight enough to shoot.

Shawn moved to his right a little, unhooking a second stun grenade and shouting, "Girl! Keep your head down and your eyes closed!" before throwing it towards the open loading door; the device clinked and landed right on the edge of the dock. The force of the explosion threw the ones using the doorway as cover to the ground, giving him a momentary reprieve. However, it wouldn't take long for him to hear voices coming behind them; more Kings were coming the other way and they were close. "Shit, behind us!" he shouted again; they must have circled around. However as he turned to fire, he saw that three were already through the door. One looked right at him, and raised his weapon, only for the underbarrel shotgun to turn his chest into a pincushion, cutting through another but the third was zeroed in on Adrian.

Right as the King pulled the trigger on his Mac-10, Shawn had racked another shell and fired; the burst just leaving the barrel as the flechette projectiles tore through him. Right as the King fell down, he ran over to see if Adrian had been hit.
 
Adrian was quick to listen to him, keeping herself ducked behind her cover with her eyes shut tight. She heard another M84 go off, but she didn't open her eyes until he yelled that there were more Kings behind them. By the time she opened her eyes, she was looking directly at the third King, and he had the jump on her. There was nothing she could do except move, or die. And she wasn't about to die like this. Her body had already decided to move even before she finished that thought, and she hit the floor with a grunt before the spray could connect with her.

Since there wasn't any more bullets coming at her, she assumed her partner had taken him down before he could get his shot. She immediately rolled over to her back and sat up. "I'm fine." She told him before lifting her M-11 up swiftly and sending off another barrage of bullets towards the door where more Kings were flooding in. She caught one coming in, but the others were smart enough not to charge in after him. "This spot's not safe anymore. We need better cover." She muttered as she sheathed her Browning and reached into her inner coat pocket.

She knew she would need this, and as crude as it might have been compared to his fancy stun grenades, it was effective. She pulled out a bottle filled with a foul smelling napalm mixture, a piece of white kerosene soaked cloth already stuffed in the mouth of it. From what she could hear, there were still a few of them on the outside of that door, and they were probably coming up with a plan to overwhelm them.

"I'll take care of those guys, just cover me." She told him as she lit the makeshift wick on the cocktail and then moved to a crouching position. She'd have to time this just right, or she'd be full of holes. She was putting her trust in that man to make sure none of those holes came from the back. She made a dash forward, towards the door where the Kings were flanking them from, and slid down low to avoid gun fire before throwing the molotov at the group of Kings outside the entrance. Before they realized what she had thrown, it exploded and at their feet and immediately their pained cries could be heard. That wouldn't kill them, but it would incapacitate them long enough so they could focus on the Kings inside.
 
Shawn flinched a little as she shot past his ear, hearing the thud of the latest brave King to try and take these two out. "Glad to see it" he replied shortly, looking down as she reached into her jacket. And he had to cover his nose as she pulled out a Molotov cocktail, the kerosene on the wick fairly pungent. "You know, vodka works just as good and actually smells nice" he joked, a hand over his mouth as he heard her state the obvious. With them not having fired shots for a couple of minutes, he could hear the clattering of weapons as the Kings seemed to gain second wind and climb out from behind cover.

"Go, I have your back." he whispered, knowing that she was going to seal off the back entrance by literally burning it. And right as she tried to go for it, two Kings popped up; Shawn did as well, his rifle barking and dropping the two of them. Soon enough, the screams of cooking gangbangers sounded off behind them. "That's pretty ruthless...I like it." Shawn complimented, his gun firing off to keep them supressed; even if it served only as a distraction, no King was going to be stupid enough to set foot in a napalm fire just to get to them. That shit was near impossible to put out without sand or something heavier than water.

"You know, I never thought co-oping a raid like this would be such fun." was his next comment, ducking behind cover as the Latina finally managed to join the firefight. She was screaming something in Spanish, words like 'puto' and 'pendejo' being flung at them. "You think she's insulting us?" was the question he posed, peeking back over before having to duck back down as bullets tore through the stacked pallets of goods that served as their cover; dish soap, cooking oil and fluffs of torn toilet paper littered the ground between the engaging parties. He couldn't see much, and he only had two flashbangs left; not to mention like she said, their cover was getting thin.

He slipped a fresh magazine into the rifle, storing the old one in a pouch on his vest before sliding the bolt back to charge it. The underbarrel was out of ammo too, so he took the magazine off and stored it as well. "I hate to say it, but we can't retreat...The only option we got is to go forward out the open loading door. I have two stun grenades; if I use them both, we'll have about eight seconds to get outside and in front of whatever car they have that was waiting to load those hookers...Least, this way if things go south we'll have an avenue of escape." Of course, such a move would also make them more exposed, but with Kings at their back and front, they needed to try and funnel them as much as possible.
 
It wasn't clear whether or not she was ignoring him or if she just didn't have anything to say. Adrian had spent the majority of her teenage years not talking to anyone. She didn't know how to respond to any of what he had said, so she just kept quiet. She did find this...somewhat fun, if she knew what fun was. His stun grenades were really exciting for her, even if she had gotten surprised by the enemy because of it.

When he reloaded, she took the opportunity to do the same. She listened to his words, and she gave it some thought. Things were looking bad right now, but she was certain that she could take out at least half of them with the help of another stun grenade. "Retreat has never been an option for me. I always finish the job. We'll work quickly. You take the ones on the left, I'll take the ones on the right...and let me kill the queen. She's my trophy for tonight." Adrian grinned at the thought of putting lead in that woman's head. If she died, it would definitely send a message.
 
"Glory hog" he teased; he didn't care who put the bitch down. Just so long as she didn't die; at least the cops would have fun trying to figure out what the hell was going on. Flechette rounds, flashbangs...And all this blood that was mixing in with the household chemicals leaking on the floor. Kudos to them if they were trying to process this crime scene.

"Just watch your step; some of their bullets spilled bleach and dish soap from the night's shipment. Whew, damn that stinks...Things could get slippery." he then said, unhooking the last two flashbangs and pulling the pins. Safety levers depressed, he just grinned and said that classic cheeseball line:

"Fire in the hole"

Hucking the last of his stun devices, the loud bangs caused everyone to keel over again, all of them aggravated; the eight-second clock started now, and soon Adrian and Shawn were booking it towards the door. His rifle kicked with each burst, the bullets making the struggling bodies just fall right back down. "Come on, we're amost there!" he shouted, putting a shot through one King that happened to look right up at him. He took a second to glance right, seeing that the prositutes were still unmoving; no doubt all of them would be shaken to see such carnage once it died down.

"Just let us make it through here alive." he grunted, making the mad dash across the room to where the exit was.
 
Those eight seconds went by much slower with the adrenaline coursing through her veins now. Adrian should have been worried, but she loved the feeling of being on the edge of death. One wrong move, and she would die. This was a real challenge, something Adrian didn't experience very often. When this was all over, she'd feel good tonight. Or so she thought.

With her Browning HP in her hand, Adrian fired single rounds into the heads of her struggling targets. She wasn't as accurate while she was running, but given the state of chaos, the shots were pretty easy to make. By the time they got halfway across the room, she had the Queen in her sights, and she was struggling to open her eyes while cursing loudly. Just as Adrian aimed at her head, the woman screamed and started firing at random with her Mac-10 in a wide sweeping motion, not caring if she hit her own men in the process. Adrian pulled the trigger as fast as she could, but not fast enough.

She felt a numbness in her side, and she knew immediately that she had been hit. Perhaps if she had been even a tenth of a second faster, she could have prevented that. But it didn't matter now, she had to focus on getting the fuck out of there. The numbness didn't last long, the pain started hitting her in waves, and it only grew more intense with every step she took. Still, miraculously she didn't slow down, the adrenaline keeping her on her feet. Fuck, this was bad.
 
With the rest of the bangers taken care of, the two seemed to bolt out of there with lightning speed. Only death laid in their wake...Along with a good number of traumatized prostitutes that would probably get deported back to wherever they came from. But that was the police department's issue now; finally, they were both able to duck behind the car. "Guess the Winchester didn't get to premiere tonight...Ah, well, some other time then" he thought; truth be told, he'd only brought it along because even though the M26 did good, a standard shotgun did wonders in close-quarters. Especially against fleshy targets like gangbangers.

However, right as he turned his attention to his newest comrade, he could see she'd gotten hit. At the very least, there was plenty of chemical on the floor that they wouldn't be able to pull a swab. Shawn cursed under his breath; he had a feeling one of them was going to get hit, and she seemed to be the unlucky one. Placing a gloved hand to his head, he tried to think; he couldn't just leave her, that wouldn't sit right with him. But unless they both wanted to end up in federal prison or on the business end of a lethal injection, hospitals weren't an option. And unfortunately, the only medical doctor he knew that dealt under the table was all the way back in California.

"Listen up, you...I'm going to lift up the right side of your shirt and put a compression bandage on the wound to stop bleedling." he said to her, already starting to treat her injury; he had a more filled-out kit in his car, a necessity from the number of times he'd had to stitch himself up. He was no surgeon, but practice gave him a fairly steady set of hands with the forceps and scalpel. When he examined it, it seemed like it didn't hit anything vital; the flow was steady and dark. Venous bleeding, and he could see that it was through and through, the exit wound on her opposite side also leaking dark blood. "Wish I could say you dodged a bullet..." he tried to joke, already working to wrap her sides; with the systems disabled, they wouldn't have to worry about an electronic eye seeing them.

"I have more I can do, but my car's a short distance...Hop on, you're gettin' piggybacked. Just try not to bleed over my clothes." he then said, not taking no for answer. "Do you have anywhere we can go? You stayin in a motel or something?" he then said as the sirens began to wail; they wouldn't have a lot of time to stick around and enjoy their little display, so he needed to know where to go and quick.

(OOC: Feel free to flash-forward to her place).
 
She wasn't in any position to reject his help, even if it made her incredibly uncomfortable when he lifted up her shirt. Luckily the pain was enough to distract her from that feeling, and she let him bandage her without much resistance. She felt lightheaded already, but she wouldn't allow herself black out. Not when she wasn't safe at the moment.

His off color joke made her smirk a little despite the circumstances. Maybe she was already delirious from the blood loss. She grunted in pain when he lifted her up on his back, quite easily. It was strange being so close to someone after years of isolation. She wasn't sure if she was enjoying it, or if she hated it. She would settle for both right now; the gesture was nice but she hated that she was forced to depend on him for survival.

Now he was asking where she was staying at, and she had no choice but to tell him. She had her own medical supplies at home, as well as some narcotics that would help her with the awful burning sensation from the hole through her body. "I live off First and Pine Street. I'll guide you there." She told him, her voice strained slightly as she tried to bear through each throb that came from his feet hitting the pavement.

***

For a serial killer, Adrian's home looked beyond normal. It almost looked like no one had ever lived in it. Everything was immaculate, there was no dust, nothing on the carpet, everything was put away. There was no evidence of her true hobby, but only because she kept everything locked up and secured in case her landlord ever decided to snoop around.

"Put me down on the couch. My first aid kit is under the bathroom sink." She told him as she pointed to a half open door. Never before had she had another person in her home, and it was beyond foreign to her. She wanted to tell him she was grateful to him for bringing her home, but she couldn't quite put it into words.
 
Having gotten out of his car, he delicately carried Adrian into her home...And boy was he surprised. It was like the home of a perfectly happy married couple. Spotless, made even some of the clean rooms he'd seen look dirt-ridden. If she was half the criminal killer he thought she was, this home didn't make her look it. At all. She was delicately placed on the sofa, where a modestly sized television sat atop a stereo. He'd brought his own kit in, but went ahead and fetched hers as well; all rangers were given some level of gunshot wound treatment training, and thankfully this case was an easy one. Covered in the classes.

Opening both kits, he then helped her get comfortable and donned some of the gloves and a mask, feeling the alcohol burn his arms as he sterilized himself. "Alright...Here's some morphine to help with the pain." he told her as he took a bottle with some pills out, handing her one; she didn't seem that shaken, so a five-milligram quick-release would probably help dull some of the ache. Plus, since he was going to be stitching her wound shut, she would likely need more but didn't want to overdose. "Just tell me if you need any more, alright? You're probably going to feel a couple of stings." he then said, prepping the needle and thread as he waited for the meds to kick in.

***********

About half-an-hour later, her torso was wrapped and ice packs were lightly resting over both wounds; the exit wound was a bit larger than he thought, but thankfully he couldn't see or feel any bone that got broken. The gloves and such were in the trash, as was the leftover; he'd left her for a few minutes to move his car again. Even though he was sure that they didn't know about this one, he couldn't risk them tracking where he was so he parked it a few blocks down after taking everything out of it.

"Hey...It's me." he said, letting himself into the house and locking the door. "So, aside from you catching a slug...I'd say that went pretty well." the man added on; he could tell she wasn't a talker. Neither was he, but he did like knowing who he was working with. "I can see how you move, you know. You've been doing this for a while, yeah?" he then asked, leaning in and tacking on, "But you know, I never did catch your name. Mine's Shawn, if that helps you any." He'd usually refrain from telling people who he was, but he had a feeling she wasn't the type to rat her partner out after they both assaulted a LK prostitution operation.
 
As much as Adrian wanted to fall asleep, she refused to. With her adrenaline gone, she was now anxious, and afraid. He would have probably mistook her shaking for being in pain, but it was really the fact that she was so vulnerable, and he could literally do whatever he wanted to her and she wouldn't be able to fight back. It took a dose of morphine for her nerves to finally calm down, but she watched him carefully nonetheless, her eyes never moving away from his face. She winced every time the needle entered her skin, but her pain tolerance was high enough for her to keep herself together.

When he left, she fought another wave of exhaustion that had come from the drugs, and she even allowed herself to close her eyes for a little while. She couldn't seem to come to terms with her feelings about this man, who had basically saved her. She would have probably died today if it wasn't for him. As much as she hated to admit it, she had underestimated the Kings, and it could have been much worse if she had worked alone. Still, she couldn't seem to figure out if him being around was a good or bad thing.

Her eyes flew open when she heard the door open again, and she raised her head up slightly when he came in. She felt kind of sick, but better than before now that her wounds were stitched closed and iced. She nodded to him when he asked if she had been doing this for a while. When he told her his name, she seemed surprised. Did he really trust her enough with that information? "My name...it's Adrian." She finally said, her voice just barely above a whisper. It was the least she could do for him after everything he had done. "Thank you for not abandoning me when I was injured. I'm not normally that careless."
 
"Hey, anyone that wants to put these scumbags in the dirt is OK in my book. I won't leave someone that actually gives a damn about this country's people to die by those assholes". he told her plainly, leaning back in the comfortable couch; man, it had been awhile since he'd sat in one of these. He was a bit surprised that Adrian had returned the favor and told him her name; but then, maybe she was just glad enough to be out of that warehouse. Of course, he probably couldn't stay here long; he didn't know how close the Feds were to his position, but maybe using this as a temporary base of operations wouldn't be such a bad thing.

And besides, she didn't seem the type to go running off to the authorities. Compounding with the fact that only his actions had been ever reported and no concept of his identity had been released to the public, and he found himself fairly safe telling his name to her. "But hey, let's tune in...See if we're the hot topic of the night." Shawn joked, grabbing the remote control and switching it on before finding the WGN channel; sure enough, the anchorman was already launching into the story: A high-stakes gang shootout, several dead and finally the relevation that it was in fact a prostitution ring that was broken.

Naturally, they were working the cameras to avoid most of the gore, but still showing enough to tell that the dead gangbangers had been massacred. "I think you killed that one...Coroner's office won't be sleeping much tonight, I can tell you that." Shawn commented, pointing to just the edge of the screen where one could see a gurney holding a body bag being carted off. "Hey, you hungry at all? I know morphine suppresses the appetite, but I am freaking starving here. I can make something or even order in." He then reached into one of his vest pockets, pulling out a nice fat stack of cash as he looked it over, "Shame though; neither of us got a chance to rob those fuckers. That's alright, our good friends the Crips will spot dinner on us."
 
Adrian was quiet for a moment before she answered almost shyly. "Pizza...I like to order pizza from the place down the street. Tony's Pizza." She replied simply, her eyes on the television. It was so strange...she wasn't used to anyone in her apartment. Or in her life for that matter. She had almost forgot what it was like to socialize with someone, other than the very people she killed. She didn't plan to kill this one, even if he knew her identity. He was...actually on her side, and saw the world as she did. Filth that needed to be cleansed, not put away in cells to leech off the tax payers money, or tried in court only to be found not guilty. It was nice to know that she wasn't the only one out there who saw things that way.

She waited until he was done ordering in, and then lazily looked up at him from the couch. "Why did you decide to do this?" She asked curiously. It was the best conversation she could come up with, honestly. She didn't want to seem rude or nosy, but she was genuinely intrigued. Her own past had decided her fate of being a vigilante, did something happen to him? Did they have something more in common with each other than just being ruthless, tactical killers?
 
"Pizza it is then...Just let me find the number" he said, grinning as he grabbed her phone and went to the kitchen, finding the number on a menu stuck to the fridge. He decided to get a medium cheese pie; he wasn't very hungry, and with her just being shot not too long ago, he figured she would want something simple.

She would this as he talked on the phone, soon joining her back on the couch as the news continued to play. He wasn't entirely uncomfortable with being here; in fact, this was a nice little set-up. The only thing he worried about was if someone made him, she'd get dragged in too. But for now, he just wanted to be sure she would be alright on her own. It was kind of his fault she got shot, in a roundabout sort of way, having them blaze through a storm of lead.

However, her question made him look at her in mild surprise; was she asking what he thought she was asking? "Heh...Well, I only thought I'd hear that question after I landed my ass about to get the needle. Let's just say, and I'm going to guess we have a similar outlook, I got tired of shit falling through the cracks. And if no one else wanted to clean it up, I suppose I should do it. Won't lie, kind of thought I was alone in that view."

Giving her a sly smirk, he then fired right back, "I'd ask you the same question though. Kind of curious now that you asked me."
 
Adrian stared at the ceiling for a moment as she contemplated going into detail. It was hard, because she never really talked about it. In fact, she tried her very best not to think about it until now. "They killed my whole family." She muttered finally, closing her eyes. She felt that rage inside of her, the rage that drove her to kill. "My brother and sister...my mother. All because my dad couldn't give them what they wanted. I was thirteen." She turned to face him lazily, her eyes half lidded as if she were bored. "No one did anything about them. They chased me through the streets. So it was up to me to protect myself, and I massacred them. One by one, I picked them all off."

She could still remember their screams...their blood leaking from their skulls. The glassy eyed look of death. It made her lips slowly curl up into a smile. "And when I was done, I was happy...and at that moment, I knew that I was meant to do." After all, she had no family or friends. She was a ghost, a girl that was meant to be assassinated or worse, sold into a prostitution ring, never to see the light of day. Her life would have been so much different, had she decided to not pick up her fathers gun, which she cherished every day.
 
Now Shawn was wondering if talking about it was such a good idea. Her tale was definitely one that upset him, made his own stomach turn at how low people coukd.go. Maybe it was good for them to do this, though. Hearing her go into detail, even if it was background, only served to reaffirm that they were two of a kind. And when she finished, he was sporting a small grin of his own.

"Well, glad they got what they deserved. Only thing scum like that's good for is planting trees." he joked, hearing.the doorbell ring. Must be a slow night, he thought; still, he pulled his sidearm and held it behind his back. "I got it" the man then said, making his way to the door...finding it was just the pizza guy. Looked like some college kid trying to foot tuition.

And after paying the bill pkus a generous tip, he would come back with plates, cola, and the pizza itself. "Hope cheese is alright, figured you catching lead in the side we'd keep it simple." was his comment, loading his plate. "I won't lie...My first was a bit simpler, and not nearly as personal as yours. Some tweaker holding up a liquor store, had a mom and her son at gunpoint. Dad got hit with a shot to the shoulder."

Taking a bite of the slice, he continued with "As soon I heard the shot, I went in...Fucking coward tried to jump the counter, but I shot him. Thought he was trying to go for the kid...then I called 911 and got out. Next day, news said he was a bailjumper and that police were looking for me. Course, I was wearing shades at the time. Guess I got lucky, since I never got a visit." Giving a small shrug he then finished, "It took a while...But then I saw how shitty the crafty people were. How they used the law like a game...How both sides fail the system. Didn't take a lot after that to see there's a difference between justice and punishment. And those who think they're above either...Well, I like to think I've helped prove them wrong."
 
Adrian listened to his story quietly as she held her plate that he had served her with the slice of pizza. She was much more interested in it than eating at the moment, mostly because she never really thought she would ever find anyone who viewed things her way. After all, killers were evil. They weren't morally grayish, which was what she viewed herself. "Never thought I'd meet someone in my line of work I didn't feel the need to kill myself." She said finally, before taking a bite of the pizza. It tasted good, but her first meal after a hit always tasted good. It reminded her that she was alive, and that she would live another day to kill more scum. "The ones who think they're above the law...the ones who smile in the face of the public during the day and then destroy countless lives at night, those are the ones I hate the most."


The other ones, the small time petty criminals...they at least had a story. One that she didn't forgive, but considered regardless. Those were the most desperate ones, the ones desperately trying to make something of themselves, or claw themselves out of poverty. Those were the cockroaches that if left unchecked, would overrun the innocents. She would happily exterminate them, but the real prize was always the big ones that employed them. It was like finding the mother of the nest, and then squashing the entire colony.
 
"Amen to that." Shawn would reply to both her comment about not wanting to kill someone in her line of work, as well as the ones who hide their devil side in the public eye, taking another bite; truthfully? It was more than a little refreshing to have met her; maybe this wouldn't be such a bad thing. Granted, he would gladly go it alone if it meant getting these scumbags off the streets, out of the lives of the innocent.

"Needless to say, I'm probably going to be spending the night here. We made a bit of a mess at that warehouse; gotta feel sorry for whoever has to clean that all up." he would then say, giving a small laugh; there was bleach, blood, paper and god knows what else in there. Thankfully at least, it meant that tracing anything they left behind would be that much harder. He'd get dinged for sure if he got shot, hence why he almost always wore Kevlar. But her? He wondered if she was even in the system; probably not, he thought to himself. She was too careful, too inconspicuous. Anyone could look at her and just think she was a straight-laced young woman.

"How's the pain?" he then asked her, wondering if she was holding up alright. It would be another few hours before she could 'safely' take another dose of morphine, but if needed, he'd give her another tablet just to have with her.
 
"Don't worry, I won't kick you out for the night. It's better to lay low, the cops are going to be out in full force tonight." Adrian murmured. She wasn't as anxious now, being that they shared a similar philosophy. She always had good judgement in character, and besides...it wasn't like her bedroom door didn't have a lock. "The pain is better...I've gone through worse, honestly." Much worse, actually. But it was a somewhat...nice feeling to have someone concerned about her. She didn't like that...she wasn't used to actually feeling things unless she was squeezing a trigger.

The TV caught her eye, a special broadcast from WGN. That didn't take long, honestly...and she turned up the TV to hear the report, like she always did after every job. It made her so happy, to have everyone hear about her handy work. "Good Evening, I'm Lisa Williams, once again reporting on yet another massacre in our humble city of Joliet. Yet again, the murder victims belonged to another criminal organization known as the Latin Kings., who were involved in a large scale prostitution ring. Fortunately, none of the actual women were hurt, all except one who was described to be working with the Latin Kings. We will have more on this story, in the next half hour..."

"That didn't take very long." Adrian said with an amused grin.
 
"Appreciate it" Shawn smiled, feeling relieved that she was feeling kind enough to not just force him out. Though even if she couldn't do as much due to her being shot, he would have gotten out if she didn't want around. It wasn't like Joliet had a lack of places to hide after all.

Shawn turned his attention back to the television as Adrian would then turn up the volume, himself giving a grin as the news report played. "Aww, we have to wait a whole half hour for the report? What a let-down. Probably have to censor the fact that we butchered about a dozen people; think they'll interview any of the girls that were about to be trafficked?" Of all the people involved, he had at least a measure of sympathy for them; many street girls, as he'd found out doing this, often didn't want to. And had some opportunistic predator to take advantage of them.

And then Julian Crews came up once more, "I'm Julian Crews with the evening news in the studio. Our top story tonight: The Cleaner strikes again. Coming up in the next half-hour with Lisa Williams, but first, we take you to the scene a demonstration outside the Chicago Police Department." As this slightly unrelated news story played on, including another bit about , Shawn let out a laugh, "The Cleaner, huh? No one ever game me a cool nickname." Well, that wasn't true; one time someone was quoted to his actions as being akin to those of 'The Punisher', that vigilante from the comic books. But that was one time.

The scene changed, showing a slightly angry crowd; and it was here that Adrian would see a familiar face: Detective Michael Stanson being barraged by questions. "There's a guy who won't be getting any sleep tonight." Shawn joked, taking a sip of his soda.
 
"Maybe, if any of them are in any condition to interview." Adrian answered with passing interest. It would be interesting to hear what they had to say about the situation. Sometimes she wondered how the people she saved felt, when she did it in such a brutal, merciless way. She knew normal people didn't do very well with gruesome, bloody scenes.

A half an hour was plenty of time to finish dinner, and get herself comfortable. She seemed rather smug when he commented about her nickname. "It's alright, at least they didn't make me sound like some kind of super villain." Her face was serious, but her eyes gave her away. It was a joke, not that she was very good at those in the first place. When the scene changed and she saw Detective Stanson, she sucked her teeth.

"He probably hasn't been getting much sleep in the last few months, considering he's always one step behind me." She said easily, tilting her head. They were asking all kinds of questions, including his progress on the case. Everyone was getting increasingly nervous, for a good cause too. This was much more brutal than her last few hits, considering just how many people they massacred. She didn't blame them one bit for viewing her as some kind of monster...
 
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