Predator: SVU

Title: Predator: SVU

Author: Prairiefire

Chapter: Fifteen: After The Fall

Fandom: Predator AU

Rating: M/R

Warnings: Adult Situations, Controversial Subject Material, Graphic Violence/Gore, Rape, Sexual Situations

Orientation: Het

Pairings: Human Female/Male Predator, Female Predator/Male Predator

Summary: Two hunters separated by species and lightyears are about to team up.

Disclaimer: I do not own Predator, nor do I make earn any monetary compensation for the stories I write that feature such characters. However, all my original characters are just that, original. That makes them mine, and they cannot be used without my express written permission.

Feedback: Please. I will respond to all signed reviews on ffn, aff

Word Count: 5687

Vek’rin’ka stayed close to Cass the next day. He had paused his own hunt for Al’brk’vix, something absolutely unheard of. He didn’t speak much, letting Cass do most of the talking past introductions. He had already known her name, though he didn’t tell her that. She had some trouble saying his name. The growl that accompanied the middle syllable of his name could not be produced by her throat. The short bark of the first syllable was easier for her and finally he allowed her to use that shortened form.

Sonya was what Cass talked of most of the time. Vek’rin’ka listened as Cass talked of the happy times that she had spent with the child and he began to understand the depth of her bond to the little one. He also learned exactly what her relationship was with the pup. She was something called an aunt. It meant that the pup’s mother was her sister. The revelation meant that Vek’rin’ka would not have to go back to his ship to find out the results of the blood tests.

Cass talked often of her sister as well. She had been older than Cass and had perished along with her mate in a vehicle collision. The deaths left only Cass to care for Sonya, who had luckily not been with her parents at the time. The female Vek’rin’ka had assumed was an aseigan had moved in to help take care of the pup because of the unpredictability of Cass’s occupation. She had been a friend of Cass’s and needed a place to stay while she furthered her education. So in exchange for watching the youngling she was provided a place to live.

Cass mentioned her father once, only saying that he had been an Arbitrator like herself. She never spoke of her mother which struck Vek’rin’ka as odd. Offspring usually had very close bonds with their mothers in most species. His own mother and him were very close. Sometimes it was disturbing how much his mother knew about him that he did not tell her. Cass acted like she did not have one, though he knew oomans were birthed from females.

The day after the confrontation with the male ooman Vek’rin’ka had approached the subject of the child killer, the bad blood. Cass had almost broken down again when he had brought that up, but she contained herself and listened to Vek’rin’ka when he asked his question.

“When go hunt Bad Thwei,” Vek’rin’ka had inquired bluntly as she came out of the shower. Cass was caught off guard as Vek’rin’ka had not entered the bathroom since the first contact and now she was naked.

“What,” Cass nearly screeched as she grabbed a towel quickly to wrap around herself. Cass noted that the alien did not seem the least bit perturbed by her nudity, but she did not share his lack of modesty. Besides, she swore she had locked the door.

“When go hunt Bad Thwei,” Vek’rin’ka repeated, trying to sound out the ooman words more clearly. “Child killer.” Cass started to tear up again and Vek’rin’ka knew he had said the wrong thing.

“I can’t,” she said as she slipped past him to get to her clothes bag. Vek’rin’ka stared after her dumbfounded. His inquisitive trill told Cass as much even though her back was turned. “It’s not my case anymore,” she added angrily as she pulled clothes out of the duffel bag. “I’m not allowed to work it.”

Vek’rin’ka was confused. Cass of all people should be the one leading this hunt. She was the one who had previous claim to the Bad Blood, and it was she who had suffered the personal loss to him. To have some one else take over now did not make any sense. The new hunter would have to spend time learning about his prey and that would only allow the Bad Blood more time to hide or run or even to commit more crimes.

Vek’rin’ka knew he would have to deal with the differences between his and the oomans’ idea of justice. He also knew that he had to learn of this Bad Blood’s crimes as well. In a very forward manner he asked Cass, “Why hunt Bad Thwei?”

Cass had been trying to quickly pull on a fresh pair of shorts and a T-shirt. When she heard the question she didn’t really understand it. She didn’t know if the alien, Vek, was asking why she became a cop or why she was working on Burns’ case. There were a few thing she had thankfully worked out. The bad thwei he said meant something like criminals, the bad guys. When he tilted his head to the side he was asking why. The sounds he made in conjunction with it indicated his mood.

“Why all of them or why this one,” Cass asked as she dropped the towel to reveal herself more or less fully clothed.

“This one, Sonya killer,” Vek’rin’ka said. His voice remained the same scratchy noise as when he first spoke to Cass. He knew that he would soon need a way to allow Cass to understand his natural language if he was going to preserve his voice. A translator might work. They were used between Clans who spoke different dialects. It was possible that one could be programmed with the oomans’ speech. It was an option he would explore next time he was on the ship.

“Burns,” Cass started. “He killed children. Seven that we know of, besides Sonya. And he kidnapped another.” Vek’rin’ka nodded, remembering the little one who embraced him. “He did other things to them too.” Vek’rin’ka lifted brow and clicked asking what. “He abused them, sexually. He forced them to perform sex acts with him.”

A sharp bark exploded from Vek’rin’ka that surely caught the attention of the guards outside. However, if they had heard it they made no attempt to find out what the noise was.

Vek’rin’ka calmed his voice to where it would not be heard outside the room as he demanded, “What ooman punishment?”

“It depends,” Cass said sinking down to the bed. “If he’s convicted he would get life imprisonment or the prosecutor could ask for the death penalty.”

“If guilty,” Vek’rin’ka cocked his head to the side. “There is doubt?”

“In the eyes of the justice system he is innocent until the prosecutor proves to a group of twelve impartial people that he is guilty. If those people doubt any of what the prosecutor tries to prove then they will find that he is not guilty and release him.”

“Pauk-de stoopid,” huffed Vek’rin’ka growling.

Cass stared at the bed spread and sighed, “Sometimes.”

Vek’rin’ka walked over to Cass and placed his hand on her shoulder. “Bad Thwei guilty,” confidence radiated through his touch. “Need punishment. It kill Sonya.” Cass looked at him, warning him away from dangerous territory.

“How do you know for sure,” Cass asked trying hard to control her voice and not start crying again.

“Smell him at home,” Vek’rin’ka stated kneeling down in front of her. “What punishment you want?”

Cass looked straight at him. There was a coldness in her eyes that sparked to life as she spoke again, “I want him dead.”

“Then hunt. Kill. Have justice.”

“That’s not the way the system works,” Cass choked out as she shook her head.

“System not work,” bluntly came the reply.

“I know that,” Cass growled as she fisted the blanket. “But I can’t do anything about it. If I kill him, I’ll be punished just like him. I’ve lost almost everything, I can’t lose my job. It’s all I have left.”

The weak barrier that had been guarding Cass’s emotions broke again and the tears ran freely down her face. Vek’rin’ka knew that he had pushed the issue too far. She wanted the child killer dead, but she was bound by the stupid ooman justice system. He could not go out and kill Burns for her, though he was sorely tempted, since he was bound by the yautja honor code. They would have to figure out a way to kill the Bad Blood without placing Cass’s rank in jeopardy.

Still, Cass’s emotional ups and downs, along with the inability to find a suitable solution to the Bad Blood’s fate, were taking their toll on Vek’rin’ka’s patience again. He knew she had wanted Burns dead, he could not figure out until now why Cass resisted so much. She feared reprisal from her system of justice for killing a Bad Blood. If that was indeed the case, then ooman justice was exceptionally stupid. Vek’rin’ka needed to get out of the room to think. The time alone would allow him to come up with a plan. So far trying to find a solution had only been met with stubbornness from Cass’s refusal to let go of her idea of justice.

With Cass crying again Vek’rin’ka knew there was nothing that he could do. As on the first night, he knew she would cry herself to sleep and it would be pointless to stay in the room. He made up his mind to go out. If he were to at least find where the Bad Blood was hiding, they would at least know where to find him when a solution was found. The jaunt would also give him time to scout for Al’brk’vix, who should have been taken care of by now.

“I go out. Hunt Bad Blood. You decide later. Clear mind,” Vek’rin’ka told Cass, hoping she would hear him past her tears. Irritated, Vek’rin’ka left through the bedroom’s balcony door without Cass acknowledging that she heard him.

Vek’rin’ka traveled through the city unseen. There were many places that he knew would be attractive hideouts for the kind of Bad Bloods that he was used to tracking, but he doubted that they would appeal to any ooman Bad Blood. Still, he had to find and kill Al’brk’vix so he checked everywhere he could think of. He paid special attention to abandoned buildings near suitable food sources.

After making a circuit around the city Vek’rin’ka had found no evidence that Al’brk’vix had surfaced. There were no fresh kills that he could attribute to the Bad Blood and neither he nor his mask picked up the unique pheromone signature.

He did not solely search for Al’brk’vix in that time. As he moved through the city he also checked the places that he knew the ooman Bad Blood had been. The urban forest where Vek’rin’ka had first seen Cass was deserted. The scent that may have lingered in the area was either gone or covered by more recent visitors.

The same was true of the storehouse where Vek’rin’ka had freed the young pup. There was no trace of the Bad Blood. He had returned to neither scene. The only other place Vek’rin’ka knew that Burns had been was Cass’ home. To check there Vek’rin’ka knew he would have to be careful. Though it had been five suns since the pup had been killed there were still guards outside Cass’s door. Undoubtedly there would be some at her home as well.

Approaching the home from the rear Vek’rin’ka paused near the spot where the child’s body had laid. There had been no precipitation since the incident and no attempt had been made to clear the spot of blood. Consequently, a dark stain still marred the green turf.

Vek’rin’ka worked his way up to the rear door and paused when he heard ooman voices and shuffling feet. A scan showed four armed oomans. Vek’rin’ka had been expecting guards, but these oomans seemed out of place. The guards outside Cass’s room always wore uniforms and carried fairly small burners. The oomans here dressed as the betrayer did. They carried the small burners, but those were not held at the moment. All four held the long barreled burners that fired projectiles that would disperse smaller pellets.

Two of the oomans were stationed in the room that exited into the rear garden. The other two were positioned closer to the front of the dwelling. With the group spread out Vek’rin’ka had not doubt that he could easily dispatch them all if he so chose. He activated his audio enhancer to listen to the on going conversation. If they were in fact Arbitrators and comrades of Cass he would leave them be. However, he had a feeling, an instinct, that they were not.

XXXXX

“So Cach really thinks this alien is following his girl,” Charlie asked his companion.

The short man grunted a laugh, “First of all, the chick isn’t his girl, just a meaningless score while he’s in town. Second, he knows the thing is following her.”

“Really Mack? And just how does he know this?”

Mack turned around just in time to see the back door swing open, apparently on its own.

“Dammit Charlie we got company.”

XXXXX

Vek’rin’ka crouched beneath the window level as he waited for the two oomans to come investigate the entrance. He had decided to stick to bladed weapons as opposed to his shoulder cannon. He did not want to damage Cass’s home with a stray shot.

One of the oomans crept closer to the door. It held its burner ready and Vek’rin’ka felt the thrill of the hunt as he waited for the moment to strike. As the ooman stepped to the threshold he dropped his cloak. The ooman didn’t have time to register the massive figure crouched before him as Vek’rin’ka’s wrist blades snapped out.

Standing quickly, Vek’rin’ka drew the extended ki’cti-pa vertically up the man’s torso. Intestines mixed with blood in the doorway but the dying man never made a sound. The hunter and the prey stared into each other’s faces as the man died on the blades.

A shout and a resounding boom rang out to remind Vek’rin’ka of his other targets. The second man in the room had fired at Vek’rin’ka and most of the pellets from the shotgun bounced off his armor or buried themselves in the dead man’s body. Those that hit Vek’rin’ka’s exposed skin stung as they left shallow pock marks in his flesh.

A second and third shout came from the front of the house, along with running footsteps. The man remaining in the room had quickly readied his burner again as Vek’rin’ka moved across the chamber. Side stepping the weapon as it discharged again, he grabbed the ooman by his throat and lifted him clear off the floor. With his free hand he grabbed the burner barrel and ripped it from the struggling man’s grasp.

The man watched wide eyed as Vek’rin’ka slammed his shotgun down on the counter with enough force to crack both. Vek’rin’ka dropped the man then. He landed in a heap on the floor rubbing the soreness from his neck. He looked up just in time to see Vek’rin’ka backhand him.

Vek’rin’ka watched the body sail across the room and thud against one of the appliances. It did not get back up and he surmised from the unnatural bend of the neck that the ooman was dead. Two loud reports brought his attention back to the two still living oomans who occupied the doorway. One was kneeling in front of the other. The peppering of the rounds dragged a savage snarl from Vek’rin’ka as he swung around to face his two assailants. They fired again almost in unison. The buckshot from one went wide and the cabinets received most of the injury. The other was low and caught the front of Vek’rin’ka’s thigh and armored loincloth.

A low roar shook the windows of the house as Vek’rin’ka charged at the oomans. He aimed low and tackled the kneeling man before he could chamber yet another round. The two combatants bowled into the other man and the three went down in a pile.

The man who had been kneeling ended up under Vek’rin’ka. His ribs were crushed and his lungs punctured in no less than four spots. His partner laid face down beside him nursing a concussion. Both men were dazed as Vek’rin’ka rolled away and stood up. He turned back to the men laying on the floor. One clutched his chest struggling to breath. Scanning through the flesh with his mask, Vek’rin’ka saw that the man was drowning in his own blood. Preferring to kill his prey quickly as opposed to letting it suffer Vek’rin’ka swung low with his ki’cti-pa and sliced the man’s throat. A bubbled groan escaped the man as his lifeblood was pumped out of his body.

The last man desperately tried to crawl away into the kitchen. His own gun had flown from his hands and was laying somewhere behind the creature. His now deceased comrade’s was lying just over the threshold. He heard the dying sounds of his partner as he made a final lunge for the shotgun.

Vek’rin’ka’s foot stomped on the man’s ankle, shattering it as he came within a hair’s breath of reaching the weapon. His finger’s brushed the end of the barrel as he screamed in agony. Vek’rin’ka looked down at his trapped and writhing prey. Grinding his weight into his foot pinning the man he stepped past and kicked the burner away.

Turning again to the crippled ooman Vek’rin’ka grabbed him by his collar and dragged him up. The man’s eyes were bulging and he was shaking, either in fright or pain. Vek’rin’ka studied the ooman in his grasp. It was a young male, in his prime. This skull would make a tremendous contribution to his trophy collection.

Vek’rin’ka let the man go and stepped back into the kitchen. The man stumbled before grabbing the door frame, unable to support his weight on his broken ankle. Vek’rin’ka stood and watched him as he retracted the ki’cti-pa. The man noticeably sagged as the blades sharply slid back into their housing. He tensed again as he watched the alien pull the long telescoping spear from its place on his back. The pain from standing on his ankle and the spinning of his head slowed his thoughts as he prepared to accept his death.

The ki’its-pa was between the two fighters as Vek’rin’ka waited for the ooman. The male no longer had the large, loud weapon but did have a small burner strapped to his side. There would be no honor in killing unarmed prey. The ooman stood there doing nothing until Vek’rin’ka looked at the weapon. The man followed Vek’rin’ka’s gaze down to his hip holster.

“You’re gonna wait until I attack you first,” the man said deliriously. Black spots were clouding his vision as he began to loose consciousness. “Fine, have it your way. Better this than the price of failure.” He reached down quickly to bring out the 9mm. It would just be a pea shooter, just like the buckshot in the shotguns. Even if the alien was not seriously harmed, the man thought, I could at least cause a little pain for my team.

The burner just cleared its holster when Vek’rin’ka sprang forward again. The spear imbedded itself in its victim’s stomach and with an upward thrust cleaved his heart in two. The man’s finger spasmed in his death throws sending a round harmlessly into the floor. It was only seconds before he died; in which time he thought just maybe the company had expected this.

Vek’rin’ka pulled his ki’its-pa from the body. It slumped to the floor as he put the weapon away. He quickly set about collecting his new skulls, making sure to include their spines. Once the still bloody trophies were securely in his catch bag Vek’rin’ka went further into the house.

At the entry way to the lounging room the scent of old blood mixed with the fresh from the hall. A dark brown stain ran down the front of one of the cushioned seats and pooled on the floor. The oomans did not seem to consider cleaning up the older female’s blood anymore a priority than cleaning that of the pup’s.

Looking for any clue that would lead him to the Bad Blood, Vek’rin’ka surveyed the room. He was not surprised when he did not find anything since the ooman had only been there briefly. His scent barely registered to Vek’rin’ka’s keen sense anymore, while the scent of the blood and the three females who lived in the home choked the air.

As Vek’rin’ka looked around the room his attention was pulled to the point all the seating seemed to be facing. At the focal point was one of the oomans’ visual communications devices. They always struck Vek’rin’ka as odd, since they only worked one way.

Above the device was a display. In a see through protective case lay a folded sheet of material that was similar to the one that had shrouded the fallen Arbitrator’s box. Above that was centered an image of a fairly young male ooman in their Arbitrator’s garb. On each side of the image was a glass fronted box containing small bits of metal and ribbon. Similar items had been attached to many of the ooman Arbitrators at the fallen one’s burial. Whatever the display represented must have meant a lot to Cass to hold such a prized placement.

The rest of the wall was covered in shelves packed with side bound parchments of varying sizes. It was an impressive collection, which Vek’rin’ka assumed contained much knowledge. In the corner was the stringed instrument that Cass had soothed the pup with in the evenings. All the items must have been very important posessesions.

His admiration of the wall was cut short when he heard the faint sounds of the Arbitrators’ vehicles. He assumed that someone must have heard the weapons firing and reported it. He stole quickly out the way he had come. He had wanted to remove and properly dress his kills as well as clean up the spilled blood. He not intended to leave the female’s home in such a state nor leave such evidence of his intrusion. It was unfortunate, but he would have to leave it the way it was, lest he be discovered by any unwanted oomans.

Vek’rin’ka’s ship was closer than the building Cass was staying in so he went there first. It seemed practical that he cleaned and stored his new trophies first anyway. He hadn’t explained what his people did on the planet yet. Considering the limited communication that he and Cass understood of each other, he didn’t want to have that discussion yet anyway. Somehow, Vek’rin’ka knew that if he told Cass that his people hunted oomans for sport she would revoke his permission to hunt by her side. Cass needed a partner to hunt down the Bad Blood, and he wanted to be that partner.

Going to the ship would also give Vek’rin’ka an opportunity to repair his injuries. The small holes were already starting to heal over, but he would prefer to remove the projectiles. While he was there he would also be able to pick up one of the clan translators if there was one on the ship.

Carefully, Vek’rin’ka made his way back to he ship, making sure that he left no blood trail. He knew the ship would have to be moved again anyway and decided to fly it back to Cass’s temporary residence and set it on the roof. It was unlikely it would be noticed there, and it seemed few oomans had access to that area. The chance of it being found was nil and it would be close at hand, provided that the building was sufficiently strong enough to hold the weight. The Arbitrator’s codes were set for it, so Al’brk’vix seeing it would not be a problem either if he managed to find the ship.

When back at the ship, Vek’rin’ka went to the kehrite. The medical corner was small but useful. He managed to remove most of the small spheres and sealed his skin. The healing gel stung horribly over the multiple entrance wounds. His savage snarl changed into a roar as the gel began chemically cauterizing the wounds. The antibiotic syringe hurt almost as much but was necessary to prevent the spread of ooman infections to him, or from him to the rest of the clan ship and beyond. While it was true that mutual exposure had traded viruses and bacteria back and forth for millennia, it was never wise to chance a mutant strain being unleashed among either population.

With injuries tended to Vek’rin’ka went back to his quarters. In no time the four new skulls were cleaned, polished and ready for display. Gazing at the last one, he wondered just how he was going to tell Cass what his species did to her people. He wasn’t planning on volunteering the information, but if Cass asked he would not lie to her. He could not think about himself lying to her. Besides, spreading false information was dishonorable. Nor was it wise to lie to a female as they tended to get dangerous when they found out the truth.

The time spent cleaning trophies also gave Vek’rin’ka time to think about the attack at the dwelling. He had been told by the Elder High Council that oomans had begun trying to capture live warriors by using sedatives fired from their burners. The oomans at Cass’s had been using their normal projectiles. That had greatly relieved Vek’rin’ka at the time. Sedatives would leave him vulnerable, but his armor and natural physique would shrug off most of the oomans’ projectiles. Still, he had to wonder about the change in the oomans’ plans.

Vek’rin’ka finally prepared the ship to take off as the sun finally set. The darkness would give him extra cover as he flew over the city. He activated the scanners as he neared the right building. The building looked solid enough, and the scanners confirmed that it could bear the weight of the small ship. He set it down gently, barely making a sound beyond the quiet hum of the thrusters.

Before leaving the ship, Vek’rin’ka searched the cockpit until he found a spare translator. The piece was tiny. It would easily fit in Cass’s ear and would still remain unnoticeable. The piece was designed for yautja ears, which had no external structure and whose canals were actually smaller than those of oomans. Still, if necessary, Cass’s hair could be unbound and left to fall over her ear, sufficiently hiding the device. Downloading the translated ooman vocabulary from his wrist computer to the ship, then from the ship to the device took only a couple beats and it was ready.

Once the ship was secure on the roof of the building, Vek’rin’ka quickly descended to Cass’s room. The climb down was easy, and there were no oomans out on any of the terraces so he was able to go straight down.

Two voices coming from Cass’s room halted Vek’rin’ka before he entered. One was Cass’s, the other belonged to Cass’s Leader. Vek’rin’ka waited and listened while the two oomans talked quietly.

XXXXX

Adams had stopped by Cass’s room briefly. He had to tell her that Sonya’s funeral would be the next day. He also had to tell her that Cach was in the wind. No one could find him, though the FBI was looking for him. Even the Weyland Corp. could not, or would not, find him.

With a simple nod and thank you Cass let the police captain out and went to hang up the outfit his wife sent with him for the funeral. When she turned around she was startled to see Vek’rin’ka standing at the balcony door watching her. He had come in so silently she had not heard him.

Vek’rin’ka walked over to Cass and held up the tiny device he had brought from his ship. He then pointed to Cass’s ear, “Put in.”

“Well, hello to you too,” Cass quipped as she cocked her head in a human imitation of what Vek’rin’ka did to display curiosity. “What is it?”

“Help talk,” came the rough reply.

“Oh, so you’ll understand me?”

“Already know ooman speak. Make Cass understand Vek’rin’ka.”

Vek’rin’ka stepped forward and took Cass by the chin. Marveling at how delicate it felt, Vek’rin’ka didn’t notice Cass’s small gasp. Turning her head slightly Vek’rin’ka placed the tiny bud in her ear. Before he drew back Vek’rin’ka pressed the tiny activation button.

Cass winced involuntarily as the translator sent half a dozen anchoring pins into her ear. The pins only penetrated a millimeter under the skin, but held firm enough to prevent it from falling out.

“You understand now,” a clear voice asked through the device. Underneath the translated words Cass heard a series of growling chirps and clicks.

“Yes,” Cass told Vek’rin’ka nodding her head. Vek’rin’ka released Cass’s face and stepped back. “The other sounds were you?”

Vek’rin’ka nodded again, “Hurt talk ooman speak.” Again the translated words were underscored by the growling. Just then Cass stifled a yawn. “Cass need rest,” Vek’rin’ka continued, noting how high in the night sky the moon was.

“I’m fine,” Cass said sheepishly as a blush spread across her cheeks.

Vek’rin’ka growled, untranslated, and continued, “Cass body need rest, mind need rest. Say farewell tomorrow.”

“I still feel like I failed to protect her,” Cass sullenly told Vek’rin’ka as she hung her head.

Nudging Cass towards to bed Vek’rin’ka softly spoke, “Pup with Black Warrior now. He protect, he guide.”

Cass settled on the bed, not crawling under the blankets. Vek’rin’ka curled a grimacing mandible under his mask. Each time the bedding had been changed, the new was just as contaminated as the old. Vek’rin’ka did not know why, but he severely disliked Cass lying on such things.

“Will you stay tonight,” Cass’s tired voice asked.

“Yes.”

“Thank you. I don’t want to be alone anymore.”

“Never alone. I watch over. I stay.” Cass nodded and soon fell into a restless sleep, haunted by dreams. Vek’rin’ka looked on at the small ooman he was bonded to. It was supposed to be a bond of partnership, of the hunt, but somehow it felt like something more. Something he was not prepared to admit to.

XXXXX

Cach walked into the building that had been set up as a clandestine hide out. This hide out had been fully equipped for interrogation and to hold any persons of interest to Weyland’s secret objectives. From the exterior, the building’s abandoned boarding kennel façade effectively hid its true use.

A row of formerly neglected kennels lined one of the walls providing secure cells. Only one was occupied when Cach asked for an update on their detainee. The figure slumped in the cell looked a little worse for wear with several new bruises. The man remained still save for his labored breathing.

“Where’s Charlie,” Cash demanded to the large man approaching him.

“Dead,” Matt replied. “He was with the team squattin’ on the woman’s house. The target entered and over ran our team.”

“Why wasn’t I notified,” barked the furious Cach.

“We’ve been leaving text and voice mails every five minutes since it happened,” Matt defended. Huffing, Cach pulled out his cell phone, the external display showing the pending messages. With a derisive snort Cach shoved the phone back into his pocket.

“So how did the clean up go then,” Cass said calmly.

“It almost didn’t,” the guard told Cach pensively. The sudden shift between the raving and the calm unnerved him. Quickly he added, “Some nosy neighbor called the cops. The team was using shotguns for cripes sake.”

“They were supposed to have silenced rifles,” Cach said disgusted.

“Either way, we were able to get there first and maintain control until most of the clean up was done.”

“Most,” Cach raised an eyebrow.

“There was a counter top that needed to be replaced and a few cupboard doors. We could only hold off the real cops for so long.”

“Fine,” Cach said. “At least there was no evidence of the target left, or any connection that would lead back to us. Right?”

“Yes sir,” Matt confirmed. “Everything was removed and the enzyme cleaner was spread over all biologicals.”

“Good.”

“I just wonder why all of a sudden the company changed objectives and now they aren’t insisting on a live one.”

“Circumstances change. That’s all you need to know.”

Before Matt could dispute that a groan came from the sole occupied cell. Cach looked at Matt with a sly grin on his face. “Looks like out guest is waking up.”

The two men walked over to the cell, pausing at a table in the center of the room for Matt to pick up his rather intimidating looking assault rifle. Cach bent down to the man lying near the door to have a closer look. His eyes were bruised a deep shade of purple and his nose pointed off to the left instead of being center. His ankles were bound with rope and his hands were cuffed behind his back.

“Pretty cut up since the last time I saw him,” Cass observed.

“Well, he woke up a couple of times and started mouthing off. So the men had a go at convincing him to shut up,” the gun wielding guard drawled smugly.

“Fine, so long as he can talk. Try not to break any bones,” Cach looked over the broken nose. “At least any more.”

Dejectedly Matt lowered his head, “OK sir.”

“And make sure he is awake for me to talk to tomorrow. We need to have a chat.”

“I’ll make sure of it, boss,” Matt said as the sly gleam returned to his eye.