Intel gathering.

With a grin that was both terrifying and exhilarating, she sped off into the night, the wind in her hair, the engine's roar a sweet pattern of liberation. The bike's headlight cut through the darkness as she followed a path she had meticulously mapped out over weeks of stolen glances. The stars above were her guide, the thrill of the escape coursing through her veins like fire.

Two days later after laying low in an abandon cabin Mandi made her way into town. She had heavily disguised herself wearing glasses and putting her hair in a bun. She wore frumpy clothes and had a cleaners badge. Today she stood outside the courthouse where she had been convicted. Her first target would that bitch judge Julia Carruthers.

Mandi walked into the courthouse with the confidence of someone who belonged there, her eyes scanning the surroundings. She knew the layout like the back of her hand, having studied it during her trial. She spotted a cleaners room and slipped in,taking the cleaning trolley out into the corridor.

The hallways were bustling with lawyers, defendants, and officers, but Mandi remained unfazed. Her heart raced, not with fear, but with the thrill of the hunt. She had to be patient. Her target was likely in her chambers, a place she had never stepped foot in before. But she had studied the schedules, knew the routines, and today Judge Carruthers had a lunch recess.

Mandi pushed the cleaning cart down the hallway, the squeak of its wheels blending with the murmur of distant conversations and the clack of high heels. She passed by the courtroom where she had been sentenced, the memories of that fateful day stinging like a fresh wound. But she didn't allow herself to linger on the past; her focus was solely on the future, on the **** that would be so sweet.

Her eyes darted to the gold-plated nameplate on the door: "Judge Julia Carruthers." The cart's wheels stopped with a gentle bump. She took a deep breath, her hand hovering over the handle. This was it. With a silent count to three, she turned the knob and slipped inside. The room was empty, just as she'd hoped. The rich mahogany of the judge's desk gleamed under the soft light, papers neatly stacked, a half-eaten sandwich on a plate, and a steaming cup of coffee. The scent of the brew filled the air, but Mandi's attention was elsewhere.

Her eyes fell on a framed family portrait. Julia Carruthers, the embodiment of justice, with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes, surrounded by a husband and two kids. It was a stark reminder of the life Mandi had lost. She picked it up, her grip tightening until her knuckles turned white. But she had a job to do. Carefully, she placed the picture face down and began her search. Drawers slid open and shut, her gloved hands moving swiftly over the contents, looking for anything that could be used against her adversary.

Under a stack of legal documents, she found it: a USB stick with no label, sticking out slightly. Her heart raced as she inserted it into her pocket. This could be the leverage she needed to start her quest. A door down the hall slammed shut, jolting her back to reality. Time was running out.

Quickly, she exited the chambers and wheeled the cart to the nearest bathroom. She locked the stall and removed the USB stick, her eyes glued to the clock ticking above the sink. She plugged it into her phone, her breath hitching as she accessed the encrypted files. Her suspicion grew stronger with each document she read. It was all there: evidence of a corrupt system that had framed her, names, dates, transactions, and even personal emails. Her anger grew into a cold, calculating rage. Then there was a video of the judge in a compromising position with another woman.

Mandi smirked. This was more than enough to start her crusade. But before she could revel in her victory, she heard footsteps approaching the bathroom door. She had to act fast. She stuffed the USB back into her pocket and exited the stall, her heart thumping in her chest. The footsteps grew louder, and she recognized the gait of a security guard. She pushed the cart out just as the guard was about to enter.

"Cleanup in chambers five," she called out, her voice casual and unassuming. The guard nodded, his eyes never leaving his clipboard. She had bought herself a few more minutes.

Her mind raced as she hurried back to the cleaners room. The USB was a goldmine, but she had to be smart about how she used it. She couldn't just confront the judge; she needed to set a trap that would ensnare the entire corrupt web that had sent her to prison. As she pushed the cart away from the bathroom, she spotted the district attorney's office. The wheels of the cart squeaked a little louder as she changed direction, her plan already forming.

Inside, she found the room exactly as she had expected: a mess of files and coffee cups, a testament to the D.A.'s long hours and neglect of personal space. Mandi set to work, her movements swift and precise. Within minutes, she had planted a bug on the desk, hidden within the clutter. It was a risk, but one worth taking. With any luck, it would capture the incriminating conversations she needed.

As she exited the office, she bumped into a young intern, her eyes wide with surprise. "Everything okay in there?" the girl asked.

Mandi flashed her a toothless smile. "Just a bit of a spill, but I've got it under control." She waved her hand dismissively and continued down the hallway, her pulse pounding in her ears. She had to be careful. Too much haste could blow her cover.

The next few days were a blur of stakeouts and meticulous planning. Mandi gathered intel, followed the players in her twisted game of ****, and laid the groundwork for their downfall. She watched from the shadows as they went about their lives, oblivious to the storm brewing around them. Judge Carruthers and DA Sonya Myers were soon going to become very intimate they just did not know it.