Thanks to a silent partner. Warning: contains mature language, gun use, and violence against bad guys

PART ONE: Cat and Mouse

While picking up a few less than savory civilians off the street for petty theft, Chimera heard of a deal going down in a small warehouse a few blocks away. She thought she'd pop over and give a look around and see if whatever was being stored in the warehouse met proper standards. A tiny field mouse scurried its way inside a hole nearby one of the entrances. Inside, the mouse jumped up a few boxes here and there so she could have a look around.

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Patrol always sucked.

Walking in circles all night long, looking at the same things over and over....He'd rather be at a strip club. Then at least it'd be fun to look at the same things all night. Hell, even a night stuck at home with only beer and dirty movies to keep him company would be better than this. He'd never impress the boss doing any of those things, though, so here he was, showing the boss how dependable he was. He hated being dependable.

"Those boxes still there, Joe" Can't have "em get up and walk off on us," he said sarcastically.

"Yeah Jimmy, they're still here. I got my eye on em," was the dry reply.

Joe didn't want to be here either, and was definitely not in a laughing mood, but that can happen to the guy that pulls the short straw. The pair continued walking around the warehouse, half-checking their surroundings as they went. Soon they reached a third goon, a smaller man, sorting and packing several crates. "Having fun, runt?" Joe asked, not at all concerned with his answer.

"Having a blast, ***hole," the smaller one shot back. "You know, if one of you would help me out, maybe I'd be done by now."

Chimera watched and waited, trying to analyze as much as the situation as possible. It wasn't too hard to determine, with their disregard for their fellow employees and the weapons they carried, that they were probably a part of a group up to no good here. She attempted to move to where the men were, but as soon as she got to where she determined where they should be, they were gone. She quickly darted to see where the last of the four men should have been, but he too was missing. She needed a higher perspective to see what was going on. In an instant, the tiny field mouse became a small bat that fell from its high box, soaring up and into the air until she landed on a rafter, determine to see more of the dark warehouse below her.

A man fell from somewhere above the work area's hanging lamp. The light cast a beam from at least 9 feet up, bathing his form all the way, and yet he made no sound when he landed. His clothes were slightly loose but tucked in at the waist, boots and gloves. A number of pouches lined his belt, as well as a couple of small objects, likely tools of some kind. His head turned, taking in the entirety of his surroundings, at which point it became apparent that even his face was obscured completely. Apparently satisfied, he approached one of the tables and began inspecting its contents. He sliced a bag open with some unseen blade and appeared to smell it. He then made his way toward a nearby crate.

Chimera watched the man intently. It was clear he had some incredible training or some innate talent. He was not like the poor men he quickly took out. She would have to be a little more cautious of him. As he inspected the table, she glided down and landed softly on the floor behind some crates. She quickly morphed into her vigilante persona, clad in black leather, fit with a matching mask to hide the upper half of her face. She crouched out of his sight and proceeded to throw her voice to bounce off some of the walls, making it harder for him to identify her location nearby.

"That does not belong to you."

At the sound of the voice, he bounded backward and out of the light, then ran quickly around a corner and out of sight.

Chimera was not about to let him get the best of her, though she worried he may be able to do so. She walked out from behind the crates and into the light. She hoped to draw him out into the light. She knew there was only one way in and out. The windows were boarded up to prevent prying eyes. The garage doors were locked with heavy chains and locks. There was just the door, which was a short distance behind her. If he wanted to escape, he'd have to go through her. But while she could, she wanted to figure out exactly what was going on here and what part in it he played.

Aggravated, she spoke harshly, "So you show off your work to me as a cat brings its kill to its owner's doorstep." From behind her once more, a simple "Hm," almost with a hint of intrigue. "A clever way to put it. I would simply suggest that this man had more to do with the crimes here than I." Then, from another angle, "In fact, I would suggest that I've committed no more crime here tonight than you would have."

Well, that certainly struck a nerve. She glared around the room. If she wouldn't have been as upset as she was, she probably would have been able to see the truth in his statement, but it only served to make her suspect him more. "If you consider yourself on par with me, then come down and face me." Once more, the voice came from behind, saying simply, "As you wish." He stood straight, one arm tucked behind him and the other held in front, bent at the elbow and against his side.

She turned around, startled by the voice. Instinctually, she sent a quick, hard fist towards his face. His arm flew from his side with tremendous speed, pushing the blow aside. He made no move to counter. As he blocked her, she sent her other fist towards him. His other arm flew from behind him, deflecting the blow with practiced precision. Again, he made no move to counter, but only took one step back.

It was clear his skills were more than her own in hand to hand combat. She did not prefer to fight this way, instead using her abilities to make up for the skills she lacked. She was still good, but not on par with him. She knew quantity was not going to trump her lack of quality, but it was all she had to offer. She took another quick hard swing at him.

His head weaved but the blow still lightly caught his jaw. Whether that was by chance or by choice was not initially clear. It soon became clear, however, when he ducked slightly and his hands drove into Chimera's ribs and abdomen. Equal care was taken to avoid harm as well as improper contact, and even the shove did not have great force. She was pushed back, perhaps thrown slightly off balance, but certainly not enough to cause a fall. The only thing the maneuver produced was distance. As she was pushed back, this only angered her more. She used the distance between them. She leaped forward and threw her weight into a kick towards his chest.

Chimera's kick caught him squarely in the chest, and sent him flying from his feet. She had no time to relish her performance, though. As his shoulders touched the floor, he tucked into a roll and stopped in a low crouch with one hand extended ahead of him. He remained there and in that posture, still having yet to make a sound. She sighed angrily and crouched down, widening her stance for a defensive position should he try anything again.

Chimera turned towards the men and saw the smoke instantly cover the distance between them. As she rushed towards where she had last seen the men, a thick blunt horn extended, covering most of her forehead, and armored shoulders reinforced with hard bone and rough hide bulked up her shoulders, making her a dangerous makeshift ram. She hit the two men in front, causing them to be knocked back into the two behind them. More kept pouring in.

Somehow, he dropped from the opposite direction of where he had moved. A particular thug didn't see it coming. As the thug's head slammed into the concrete floor, he pounced into another thug. The two of them were out of the overhead lamp's light in an instant, and only the strobing muzzle blasts of the thug's panicked firing let anyone see the knee sail cruelly into his groin, or the back of his head slamming against the wall. He was gone again before the thug hit the floor.

Their styles were complementary. He would confuse and misdirect, while she would take her problems head on. As her horn shrank back into her forehead, her arms became thicker, with more muscle mass on them. She began punching on the ones closest to her, even knocking weapons from a few and rendering one unconscious from one of her blows. The others tried to take aim on the man darting in and out of the shadows.

A thug had squared off toward Chimera's back. He was probably about as accurate as your average thug, but it was still best not left to chance. As he began to raise his weapon, he suddenly flew backwards into the darkness. His screams of panic sharply ended as his weapon clattered against the floor.

She turned around as she heard the screams behind her. She realized the danger that she would have been in if not for his quick thinking. She wouldn't have much time to react in gratitude as one thug cut one of her arms with his blade. She cried out and instantly swung her body around, smacking him hardly with her other arm, knocking him back slightly. A single sharp spine instantly extended from her heel as she kicked him in the lower abdomen, piercing him. He fell back to the floor in pain.

He had just perched on a shelf when he heard Chimera's cry of pain. He turned to face her and found that she was blocking the door. He could make out several more thugs outside the door. It was not clear how many enemies they faced, but it was not worth the risk of finding out. He swept a pouch on his belt again, and flicked his hand at the ground between Chimera's legs. The smoke billowed up and out quickly. He leapt from his perch and grabbed Chimera from behind.

PART TWO: Meeting in the Middle

His ill-timed encounter with Chimera sent his most promising lead up in a cloud of smoke; the warehouse was clean within an hour, perhaps the cleanest it had ever been. Whatever files he'd hoped to find had most certainly been destroyed, and the variety of cargo had no doubt found its way to whatever destinations they had been intended for. What should have been a major blow to that organization was now nothing worse than a slight setback. There was no time to consider the possible consequences.

While the warehouse had been packed full of guns (among quite a few other things), what caught his eye most was the Dragunov rifle. Such a weapon required a great deal more precision than the average thug would possess; no, it was certainly for a hitman. Such a weapon would also prove troublesome to smuggle. Whoever went to the trouble of getting it to that warehouse almost certainly had a target in mind already.

It would take a certain caliber of gunsmith to properly sight this rifle in. There would only be a few such individuals in the city, and since his ear was so often to the streets, he knew of them all. Fortunately, only two did any dealings with this organization. Even better, one of them was in prison. He knew how strongly people were attached to their fingers, especially those who did that sort of work. The gunsmith was eager to give up the whereabouts of the man who'd come looking to get that rifle sighted in, and did so before it was necessary to become more persuasive. Rather than risk moving the rifle, the gunsmith had gone to it. The address now known to him, he soon found himself at a studio apartment in a rougher part of town. A window was already broken; hardly a promising sign of a secure safehouse with anything of note to be found. All the same, he blinked through and into the room. Perhaps he would get lucky. He began rifling through desks and drawers.

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While wining and dining with a few local aristocrats, Karen caught word that a very important business man had recently been receiving death threats. His wife grew concerned. Karen invited her to a private lunch in order to discuss a charity event she was considering, but Karen made sure to steer the conversation towards the topic of the woman's husband. Karen learned enough to set her on a path. Having a trustworthy friend help her hack into secure networks, she saw many dirty dealings the man was involved in and she set out to investigate which suspect was the most likely culprit.

A little digging led her to a man who owned a rival company. She thought it was a little suspicious that the man would be leasing a small studio in a bad part of town. She suspected it was a safe place for him to plot and act on his threats. In the silence of the night, Chimera found herself standing in front of the run down building. Prying out the rest of the glass of the already broken window on the side of the building gave her more than enough room to carefully climb inside.

He resumed searching the room. The hitman was likely a very cautious person who would be extra careful to cover his tracks. Since the gunsmith had been summoned here to work on the rifle, the handler was obviously not quite as careful. He found several phone chargers but no phones. He struck gold, however, upon opening a drawer in the nightstand. Inside was a laptop. Saying nothing out of habit, he turned it on and was greeted by a small prompt for a password.

She stared at him blankly a moment. She watched him search and followed him around the room. She revealed, "I had heard a wealthy businessman had been receiving death threats. They have been escalating in frequency and minor actions taken against him. His family grows concerned. I found out that he had his hands in a deal with another business man and I believe that man has decided to act against him for the deal falling through and leaving his business and assets on the line. That man has been leasing this building." She paused when she watched him pull out the laptop and turn it on. She quickly moved next to him so she could see the screen.

Continuing his task-oriented approach, he set the laptop down. "Best not to try that password without some idea of what it might be. Getting it wrong too many times could lock out the system, or erase the drive." He continued to search through the nightstand; a shot in the dark, sure, but as good a place to start hunting for a password as any. The odds of finding the password written on a sticky note anywhere at all were slim but he had to try.

Chimera spoke up, "I have a contact that may be able to help us get access to the information, if you will allow me to take it with me." He asked plainly without looking as he continued searching, "And where will we be going?"

Chimera stared at him again, "You assume I'm going to let you meet my contact?"

"You assume I'm going to let you leave with what is likely to be my only lead?" he countered, still without looking her way and still searching for anything of use.

She sighed and then said bluntly, "I thought we were sharing. My contact would easily be able to crack any codes necessary to retrieve the information, but they prefer to be left out of my extracurricular activities as much as possible to maintain innocence." She was stretching the truth a little. She didn't know for sure if her friend would be able to get the information, though if she couldn't, not many else could. She also was not so much protecting her friend's request to privacy, as she was making sure to never subject her to the dangers she faced.

PART THREE: Give and Take

Chimera was making a good effort here. They had agreed that she would take the laptop and have her tech friend analyze it and then share the information with him so he could review it and decipher the information so they could use it. She called him with the disposable phone number he had given her and they decided on a meeting place. She approached the alley from the darkness of the buildings. She was carrying a folder with all of the information printed out and a small communication device that would allow them to get in touch with each other in the future. Despite her friend's suggestion to put a tracker in the communication device, Chimera decided not to. She still didn't quite trust the man, but he had never done anything that proved to have a malicious intent, even though she had been watching for some slip up.

From his perch on a fire escape, he watched Chimera approach. He'd prepared this spot to be dark enough to keep prying eyes from seeing them, but he had a feeling she'd be able to see him. He dropped from his perch, landing ten feet in front of her - she'd certainly see him, but he'd be far enough off to avoid appearing threatening. He tucked to absorb the fall, and when he stood his arms were at his sides. "Good evening."

She was becoming accustomed to his theatrics for entrances and exits. She stopped as he landed in front of her. She happily noted his casual posture and she felt no need to take a defensive one herself. "Good evening?" She realized she didn't even know his name, street name or otherwise. She thought she'd make the effort to now. "Please, call me Chimera. I've been given the name on the street and it's one I'm proud to have."

He'd heard the name himself, being so often among some of the people who used it. "Yes, it would seem that you are a thorn in the sides of many. I've heard more than a few men whisper your name, as well as some who spoke it more....enthusiastically." He had no such street name to offer her; he went to extraordinary lengths to be little more than a last moment of anxiety or fear. He felt he'd extended enough pleasantries for now. What he'd offered was already two sentences more than anyone else had received to date. "What have you uncovered?"

He kept his focus on the apartment complex ahead of him, yet still seemed to sense Chimera's approach. "This is the building. Second floor..." He paused for a moment. "Fourth from the left, I believe. I can check it alone first if you wish, in case I am incorrect." She stared where he directed. She knew he could check it out more quickly. She spoke softly, "Sure." She added without thinking, "Be careful."

He appreciated the unexpected concern, but gave no indication of that. Instead, he sprang forward into the air, moving halfway across the street before blinking the other half and arriving on the roof above the apartment. He looked over the edge for any sort of tripwire or motion sensors before dropping down. Careful to avoid stepping on the welcome mat, he drew lockpicking tools from a pouch on his belt. After a short time, he turned the door handle and gently opened the door, looking through the gap from the top hinge around to the bottom hinge. He didn't make it beyond the top corner before spotting a simple trigger wire attached by a loop to the door. He gently unhooked the loop, careful to keep from pulling it in any direction.

After opening the door enough to stick his head in, he saw a shotgun tied to a chair, its barrel pointed directly at the door. A simple trap; perhaps this hitman came and went often enough to make a more complicated defense impractical. Seeing no other traps, and seeing no need to keep holding the wire, he set it down, emptied the shotgun, then waved for Chimera to approach before he resumed searching for other traps. She watched for a signal and saw it. She jumped down along a fire escape and moved quickly inside the door. She closed the door softly behind her and turned to him.

He held a finger against his mask to signal Chimera not to speak, before motioning toward the two doors in the room. He moved toward the one on the right, carefully cracking the door open. On seeing a bathroom sink, he decided it was highly unlikely there would be any traps in here and opened the door fully. The lights were out, but he wanted to be sure it was empty nonetheless. Satisfied, he gently closed the door and turned toward Chimera, motioning toward the other door which likely led to a bedroom.

Chimera observed the same outline of paint and extended a pointed two inch claw from her pointer finger. She carried her own weapons. She proceeded to cut on the corner nearest to her. He glanced toward her. He hadn't said anything about what he was doing out of habit. He worked alone, and never needed to explain his actions. It was encouraging that she needed no explanations and had come to the same conclusion as he - that something was hidden in this wall, and hidden in such a way that it probably only needed to be accessed once....

With both of them cutting, the once-removed portion of drywall quickly found itself removed a second time. He pried the piece out with his blade, setting it down and sliding it aside against the wall. There it was, enveloped in a simple plastic covering. "The Dragunov."

She believed him. She had no idea about guns or their names. She never had the need for them. She smiled, "Good. You found it. I found something else." She stood up and returned to where she had been searching. She picked up a small invitation card. She held it out for him and explained, "He has an invitation to an important business luncheon tomorrow. His target is supposed to be signing a business contract during the event. I imagine the man who hired him wanted him killed before he signs that paper tomorrow." She knew all the intimate details of the business merger and the back door dealings. That was her world. She hoped he would trust her insider knowledge without question, like she trusted his.

He stood, facing her. "Curious that he has an invitation already. Someone must have wanted him to be prepared to finish this in other ways if necessary." He put his hand on his chin. "Is there an address on the invitation?" He turned his head toward the rifle. "We may only be costing him the easy method by getting the rifle. I think it would be wise if we infiltrated this event to prevent his using another method."

Chimera didn't even need to look at the card because Karen Reilly had received one as well. "It's going to be held at the convention center down the street. The address is on the back. I think you are right. We should both be there, in case. I have my own method of getting in. Will you be able to infiltrate the event?"

PART FOUR: Multiple Attempts

He'd seen the nameless thug wiggling out from under Mr. Pearson's car. Mr. Pearson's security left a lot to be desired. Ordinarily he'd take the thug out before going after the bomb, but he didn't want to tip off the hitman too soon.

Once the thug was gone, he blinked underneath the car.

The bomb was somewhat crude, but he hadn't left Nickels much time to rethink his plan. It was wired into the ignition for its detonation. Simple to attach, simple to detonate, simple to remove " the detonator would only go off when powered, so there was no worry over cutting the wrong wire. A quick snip and the bomb was useless. It appeared to be attached with double sided tape " Nickels and his henchman must have been in a hurry indeed. He rocked the bomb loose and blinked away with it.

With a splash, the bomb sank into the river and out of sight.

He took off the coat he'd been wearing to keep his clothes clean. He'd taken a uniform from the catering company the night before and didn't want to get it dirty rummaging around underneath a car. He quickly made his way to the luncheon and through a service door.

Time to get to work.

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When nobody was looking, he poked himself in the ear. There was probably a better way to do it, but gear this fancy was far beyond what he was accustomed to. "Radio check," he subvocalized. He hoped it worked. Waiting for a reply, he made his way around the back areas to see if he recognized anyone.

He wasn't really sure how it worked, and apparently neither was Chimera. Her explanation was stiff and stilted, as though someone who did know tried to explain it to her but she got lost in the engineering speak. He certainly didn't fault her for it; he imagined they both were satisfied when their equipment worked properly and tended to leave it at that. Having seen her in action, it was clear that her talents were in other areas, and by now it was clear that she was extremely well funded and no doubt had people who knew these technical details for her.

Karen was in the middle of her meet and greet with a few old associates when she heard her new partner in her ear. She smiled and politely excused herself from the conversation. She walked over to a window and placed her cell phone earpiece over her ear. She responded back quietly, "Yes, I'm here and keeping an eye on things in the dining room." Most who would look over at her would simply assume she was talking on her phone, casually looking out the window. In reality, she was scanning outside as well, trying to see if a gunman was waiting in a neighboring building, or to see if her partner was keeping an eye off in the shadows like he seemed to prefer.

He stopped outside the kitchen. "I'm in back. Entering the kitchen. Checking the food." He was keeping it brief. He didn't want to face a wall for too long, nor did he want anyone to wonder why he was mouthing words seemingly to himself. "Know what he's having?"

Karen thought back a moment. She tried to remember what Pearson had when she met him at another event. He didn't eat anything, just sipped on a few drinks. She had lunch with his wife to learn more about the death threats he had received. She remembered something important. Pearson had several cases of gout and was on a strict diet to prevent it from reoccurring. Karen remembered the menu, chicken cacciatore or alfredo pasta with shrimp. She said quickly, "The chicken."

Karen continued on her way around the room innocently as she heard her partner signal to her about the poisoned chicken. She replied, "I'm' handling" a bit of an explosive problem myself." She walked carefully, as not to run into anyone with the trigger for the explosive in her hand.

"Be careful." He was careful himself to not let on the discomfort he was currently in. The worst had passed, though. He shook his head a few times to try to shake some of the blur off a little faster. "Going to the floor now, to see if I recognize anyone." The privacy of the restroom offered room for a few more words than before. He exited the restroom and headed out to the main room.

Mr. Pearson ended his conversation with a small group of men and headed towards a small hallway on one side of the room towards the kitchen. Karen knew he would never associate himself with the help. The only other thing down that hallway' was the bathrooms. She tried not to panic with the trigger still in her hand as she said softly, "He is moving to the bathroom. He is moving to the bathroom." She still followed him, though she knew she wouldn't be able to go the whole way.

The urgency in both her voice and her repetition was immediately apparent, as well as unexpected from her. "I'm going," he replied as he made his way to the public restrooms. He entered not long after Mr. Pearson, and saw no others present. He heard Mr. Pearson attending to his business in one of the stalls, so he was obviously still alive. He began mouthing to Chimera. "He's here, alone. I'll stay in here until he's-" He cut himself off when he felt a tremendous wave of nausea. Whoever put the digitalis in that chicken dish must have used a lot. Now was perhaps the worst time for this to happen.

He quickly poked his ear; he hoped he turned the device off correctly but didn't have time to think about it as he ran into another stall and began to vomit vigorously. After a short time, he heard a voice. "Whoa, there, old top! You gonna make it in there?" It seemed to be over, and he replied. "Yes....yes, I'm fine. Just something I ate.? He wiped his mouth with some tissue, flushed, and went to the sink. It then occurred to him as to whether or not the little device in his ear was waterproof. He tore a small piece of paper towel off and put it on his fingertip before poking the device, then washed his hands quite thoroughly to maximize his time in there. He coughed unexpectedly.

Karen saw Pearson exit, but she waited in position. As Nickels emerged from the bathroom, she knocked against him and sweetly apologized. He scoffed at her angrily, but it was enough to give Pearson even more of a head start on him. She hesitated slightly, waiting for just the right time to sell her plan. She then followed Nickels, running in her heels, silently thanking Valerie for the ankle strapped pumps. He was heading towards the middle of the room now, where Pearson stopped to talk to a new group. Karen stopped dead in her tracks when she came into the room and yelled in distress.

"Help! Help! That man stole my jewelry!"

She pointed at Nickels. A few security guards who had been monitoring the event turned to look at him, as did everyone else in the room. Nickels instantly started to flee, knowing he would never be able to carry out his mission now, but the guards were on him too quickly. They held him as Karen approached.

One of the guards said sternly, "Is this the guy, ma'am?"

She said, acting completely distraught, "Yes! He stole my sapphire necklace right off of my neck!"

The guard began to search him and pulled out the sapphire necklace Karen had planted on him when she bumped against him in the hallway. He handed it to her and said, "Here you are ma'am, and what do we have here?"

The guard then pulled out a switchblade that was undoubtedly reserved for Pearson. The guard continued to Nickels, "Looks like you're coming with us." The guards escorted Nickels out to wait for the police after Karen was told to come back to the security station after the event to make a statement.