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Chapter 34 by micdan282 micdan282

What's next?

Flight

The bottle was already in her hand when her phone rang. Rikki froze, the half-empty bottle of wine hovering just above the rim of the glass. She glanced at the screen. Devin. She hesitated. It continued to ring. She set the bottle down, throat dry and pressed answer.

“Devin?”

His voice came through in a rush, loud, panicked, and breathless.

“Rikki, I didn’t know who else to call. I know I’m not supposed to…shit..they’re coming.”

Her stomach knotted. “Who’s coming?”

“Tank. The Corpses. Something’s going down tonight, something big. Their weapons supplier’s showing up in person. They want everyone there. If I don’t show, I’m dead. But there’s more. The guys are saying it’s not just guns this time. It’s tech. Serious stuff. Military-grade or worse.”

Rikki's hand tightened around the phone. “Where?”

“Behind the warehouse off of Laramie. The docks down there. You know the one. With the shipping containers," He blurted out in a panic.

Rikki closed her eyes for a breath, mind racing. “Okay. Okay. If they’re coming to get you just go along with it. Don’t argue with them and put yourself in danger. I’ll call someone. Just… whatever happens you stay low and stay out of the way.”

She hung up. The drink sat untouched on the counter. Instead, she unlocked her phone again. Hesitated. Then dialed. It rang twice before a gravel-edged voice answered.

“Thatcher.”

“Hey,” she said quietly. “It’s me.”

A beat of silence.

“Well, it’s been a while,” he said dryly, but his tone softened. “You okay?”

“Not really. I just got a call from one of my parolees. His old gang’s making a weapons pickup tonight. The docks at Laramie. He says it’s more than guns, something high-tech. Maybe experimental.”

Thatcher sighed. “Of course it is. Listen, I wish I could throw the cavalry at this, but half the department’s tied up at the riot downtown. The rest won't do a damn thing.”

“So that’s it there’s nothing you can do?”

“Not any time soon. I can put out a call but whether anyone shows up, I doubt it.”

“Fuck.” Rikki turned to her closet. She starred at the closed door for a moment before hanging up.

Thatcher looked down at his phone.

“Good luck.”

Rikki walked across the room, opened the closet door and knelt down inside it. She pulled aside the hanging coats and reached toward the floor, fingers brushing the false bottom panel. It clicked open with a soft mechanical snick. Inside was the crate. Rikki sighed deeply before slowly opening it. Her suit gleamed back at her. She hadn’t suited up since the night Rogue Knight nearly killed her. Just seeing it now made her chest tighten. But she didn’t have a choice.

Piece by piece, she put it on. She holstered her stun batons, strapped on her belt and felt the magnetic locks on the new wrist-mounted grapples click into place. By the time she’s finished suiting up, she wasn’t Rikki anymore. She was Nightingale.

She stepped out onto the fire escape and fired the first grapple into the skyline, the cable pulling taut with a sharp whine. Then she leapt, slicing through the night, the wind catching her like an old friend.

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