Predator: SVU

Title: Predator: SVU
Author: Prairiefire
Chapter: Chapter 17, Gone to Ground
Fandom: Predator, AU
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Adult Situations, Graphic Violence/Gore, Minor, Explicit Sexual Content, Mild Language, Murder, Rape, Sexual Situations, Torture/Abuse
Orientation: Het
Pairings: OFC/Predator
Summary: Two Bad Bloods are stalking Miami, one human one yautja. Hunting them are two Arbitrators bent on taking out the trash.
Disclaimer: I do not own the Predator franchise as Fox beat me to it, nor do I make any money from my musings. The only profit I gain is from the feedback people leave me.
Feedback: Much appreciated, it certainly helps me focus on writing, thus getting chapters out faster.
Archive: ff.net, aff.net
Notes: I am finally back. Both to working on my own story and reviewing. I went through a bit of depression only made worse by the frantic pace at work and once I was home I was lucky if I made it to my room and not just crashing on the couch. However, I assure all you authors out there that I was reading (when I could stay awake). I have to tell you that the updates here and at ff.net were all I was going on. I have to thank all of you for letting me lean on you during what have probably been the worst months of my life. So a big THANK YOU to all of you, and I will be starting my reviews in this section back up.

XXXXX

Remembering the passenger riding in the back of the truck Cass drove carefully towards her house. In her mind she told herself the departure from her normally reckless driving habits had nothing to do with not wanting to reach her destination. Even so, the closer she got to her neighborhood the more her stomach clenched until she was parked in front of her house.

The yellow police tape was gone; telling Cass that what was her home was no longer a protected crime scene. Cass sat at the curb looking up at the two story building until there was a tap on her window. Startled out of her nostalgia she looked to the distortion that marked Vek’rin’ka’s position just outside her door. Nodding both to herself and her invisible partner Cass took a deep breath and got out of the truck.

“I have a gun locker in my room,” Cass told Vek’rin’ka as she stood outside the truck staring at the house. Vek’rin’ka placed his cloaked hand on her shoulder to let her know that he was near before they entered the house.

Barely louder than a whisper, Cass thanked Vek’rin’ka before she started toward the house. She fingered the keys in her hand as her front door got closer, a nervous habit. It seemed like no time had passed before they were standing on the porch facing the entrance to the last place on Earth that Cass wanted to be.

The sounds or rather, the lack of them, coming from the house unnerved Cass. Where she should have been able to hear laughing and the sounds of breakfast being made at this time of day there was only her own heartbeat and the quiet rasp of Vek’rin’ka’s breathing. There wasn’t even a breeze to disturb the leaves on the trees and the neighborhood was oddly quiet.

The lock disengaged with a loud click before Cass even remembered putting the key in the door. Swallowing away the guilt and sorrow that threatened to overwhelm her again, Cass pushed through the door and stepped over the threshold. When the ghosts that she had been expecting did not immediately assault her, she hurried toward the stairs to the upper level.

Vek’rin’ka followed close behind, unsure how she would react to the still present evidence of her niece’s murder. He was not completely surprised to find that the visible evidence of his own battle had been cleaned up though he could still smell the cleaners that had been employed to break down the spilled blood.

Cass had started up the stairs in a hurry, taking them two at a time. At the top Vek’rin’ka followed her past the door to the little pup’s room. The scent was fainter now, not having a living source to replenish what drifted away on the air currents Vek’rin’ka realized with a twinge in his chest. Cass was in her own room pulling bundles of clothes and items of footwear out of her closet with Vek’rin’ka approached her.

In front of Cass, from what Vek’rin’ka could see was a long metal case. It’s length ran about his arm span and stood up to his knee. Cass had finished spinning a dial to release one of the locks before she pressed her opposable finger to a small scanner and typed something in on the small key pad. The second lock snapped as it released and Cass swung the lid up.

The sight inside the case impressed Vek’rin’ka greatly. Inside were twelve ooman burners ranging from the small ones that Vek’rin’ka had seen Cass handle before to longer ones he had seen used by oomans when they hunted their native animals. All the weapons looked well maintained and ready for use.

On a closer look Vek’rin’ka noticed there were no blades present. While he was mildly disappointed he was reassured by his decision to allow her fight with her own weapons. Vek’rin’ka watched Cass as she began pulling out and inspecting each burner.

Cass’s first selection was one of the smaller burners similar to the one she had carried constantly during her hunt. It was an appropriate choice Vek’rin’ka concluded. It would be as familiar to her as his ki’cti-pa was to him. Cass then set it aside and started to look at the larger burners.

“Need close weapons,” Vek’rin’ka interrupted. “Not far away when kill Bad Blood.”

“Don’t worry,” Cass said calmly as she lifted another gun from the locker. “Urban Sniper. This is almost overkill at point blank range.” The black matte finish of the gun would have shone if possible as Cass expertly tested the grip and sights.

Vek’rin’ka looked the burner again and finally noticed the object encasing the trigger. Looking at the smaller burner he saw the same contraption on it as well.

“How work,” Vek’rin’ka pointed to the trigger lock. “Why?”

Cass pulled a ring of keys from the chest. “Like this,” she said as she unlocked the guard on her shotgun. Setting it aside she took the lock off her 9mm as well. “As for why, you can never be too careful with children in the house.” Cass’s tone was flat as she checked the chamber and magazine to ensure the gun was unloaded. After the check she pulled a shoulder holster out of the locker and slipped the Glock into it.

So, Vek’rin’ka thought, the precautions were to protect the pup, similar to the precautions taken in a yautja home. In homes with small pups weapons were still displayed along with their owner’s trophies, there was just a clear glass over them that required the owner’s code to open. It was unfortunate that such precautions were not able to save the pup’s life, though Vek’rin’ka wisely didn’t say as such to Cass.

Getting up, Cass walked over to the bed, still unmade from its last use, and pulled an overnight bag from underneath. Pulling open draws from the nearby dresser Cass began throwing handfuls of her garments in it to Vek’rin’ka’s bewilderment.

When she was satisfied that there was enough she hauled the bag over to the weapons. After checking the magazine and chamber on the shotgun to make sure it too was unloaded, she put it in the bag on top of the packed clothes. She slid the Glock in beside it and pulled a box of ammunition for each gun out of the locker.

When the weapons and ammo were nestled in the bag Cass threw more clothing from the dresser into the bag. With the guns completely concealed Cass zipped the bag up and stood up. Vek’rin’ka looked at the bag and cocked his head to the side, trilling his question of why.

Cass walked over to him with the bag slung over her shoulder and tapped his wrist computer with one finger. “Camouflage.”

Vek’rin’ka understood immediately. In his time on the oomans’ planet he had not seen very many of them carry such weapons visibly. Those that did were usually either Bad Bloods or Arbitrators, if not part of the warrior packs that worked for the various ooman governments. To hide her weapons in plain sight was tricky. Of course, Vek’rin’ka knew that she was tricky. With the way that Cass had tricked him into removing his mask and from what she had told him of her ‘undercover’ hunting, he mused, he would have to keep an eye o her.

Cass and Vek’rin’ka left the bedroom and started back downstairs. Passing the door to Sonya’s room Cass paused and placed her hand on it as if to push it open. She hesitated then hung her head and let her hand drop away.

“She’s not here anymore,” Cass said to no one in particular. Vek’rin’ka placed his hand on her shoulder as reassurance and when she didn’t move after a moment gently guided her away.

The two hunters continued down the stairs in silence. It was not until the doorway to the living room that Cass stopped again. Vek’rin’ka tried to prod her on passed the place that would cause her to spiral downward emotionally again. Cass stepped away from Vek’rin’ka’s guiding hand and entered the room.

The stain of Joan’s blood was still on and beside the couch. In the intervening days it had turned a sickly rusty brown color, but it was the only evidence of the violence that had happened in the room. Cass looked at it for a moment with flat, emotionless eyes then turned away. She walked over to the shelf holding her father’s medals and photo.

Whispering quietly Cass touched the picture lightly and said, “Forgive me daddy.” Cass turned away and walked over to her guitar. “We can go now,” she said to Vek’rin’ka as she passed him at the door.

XXXXX

Vek’rin’ka had stood silently waiting for Cass to finish whatever she was doing in the lounging room. She had asked someone called ‘daddy’ for forgiveness. This ‘daddy’ was apparently the male in the image. Vek’rin’ka had heard many small ooman pups refer to their sires as ‘daddy’ so this image could have been that of Cass’s sire. Asking him forgiveness could have made sense in an ooman way, perhaps for the departure from the Rules of Arbitration that she was about to begin. She had mentioned that her sire had been an Arbitrator and as such he would not likely approve of the breach.

Whatever the reason, the moment didn’t last long. Cass moved to pick up the stringed instrument and walked back to Vek’rin’ka telling him it was time to leave the home. Before Cass opened the door Vek’rin’ka cloaked himself and stepped up behind her. He could not understand why she would take the music maker when she had not taken any armor, not that he had seen any. It was obvious that the instrument was not a weapon and by the way Cass handled it reverently would never allow it to be used as such. They calmly walked across the lawn to the truck and Cass opened the passenger door.

“Are you riding in the back again,” Cass queried. Vek’rin’ka gave her an affirmative tap on the shoulder and she went ahead and placed her bag on the passenger seat. She went to set the guitar in the cab when Vek’rin’ka stopped her. The why trilling came from just by Cass’s ear and she shuddered at the unexpected closeness.

Cass looked down at the guitar in her hand and then looked back at the house before answering him. It was still dark and ominously silent. “That’s not home anymore,” she said quietly. “I’m not planning on coming back.” Vek’rin’ka let go and Cass put he guitar carefully in the truck.

After Cass closed the door she turned around to be confronted by the blurry outline of Vek’rin’ka. While he was not as menacing towering over her as she expected he was certainly invading her space. Sidestepping around him, Cass felt him take hold of her arm effectively stopping her from moving.

“No armor,” he quietly growled now that they were outdoors.

“I have it,” Cass replied as she pulled out of his loose grip. When she freed herself she went around to the driver’s side of the truck. From behind the driver’s seat Cass pulled out a standard bullet-resistant vest. Swinging it up to lay on the truck’s hood for Vek’rin’ka’s inspection, Cass added, “There.”

Vek’rin’ka looked at the cloth-like armor critically. It had the advantage of being light and flexible but that was about it. The plating, if it could be called that, only covered the chest and upper abdomen. All Cass’s extremities would be bare, the blood supply to them left unprotected. The entire design seemed to be concentrated on protecting only the center mass of its wearer, a design flaw that had been illustrated to Vek’rin’ka already with the death of the other Arbitrator.

“Only armor,” Vek’rin’ka grumbled as he ran a skeptical eye over the vest.

“Only stuff I ever had.” Cass then threw it back behind her seat and looked back to find Vek’rin’ka already crouching in the bed of the truck. “Where to now?”

Vek’rin’ka thought for a moment. He had wanted to start the hunt as soon as they had gotten weapons for Cass. Now that would have to wait again while he collected or made the pieces of armor that any yautja hunter would need. “Night room,” he told her.

“Back to the hotel? Why,” Cass asked unsure if that was what he meant. “I thought we were going to go after Burns.”

“Need supplies,” Vek’rin’ka said simply as Cass climbed in behind the wheel.

“Fine,” she irritably growled. “But I don’t like all this malingering.”

Vek’rin’ka chuckled at Cass. Trust a female to blame someone else for taking their time. On the ride back to the hotel Vek’rin’ka thought about how he would make armor suitable for Cass. The pieces would be smaller than normal for one thing. There was also the oomans’ modern preference for soft, clothlike armor. If the ship had a store of tanned leather in the hold, Vek’rin’ka thought, that would be perfect. Going through an inventory of what he would have to make, he counted on wrist bracers, though minus the blades and computer. Next would be shoulder guards, hopefully thick enough to stop any of the oomans’ projectiles. As he thought more, he decided against anything for Cass’s legs. She was not used to wearing such armor and it would likely interfere with her natural movement.

When the vehicle finally stopped after a much quicker ride to the hotel Cass got out and draped herself over the side of the truck bed. “So what now?”

“Wait in room. I back soon. When back begin hunt.” Vek’rin’ka then got out of the truck and quickly made his way around the building leaving Cass by herself

“Well,” Cass said more to herself because of the abrupt departure of her puzzling companion. “Hurry back.” Removing her bag and guitar, Cass made her way up to her room to wait.

Waiting had become extremely aggravating. Pacing had only just been able to keep Cass from running out on her own. The droning of some soap opera she had been using for background noise only served to annoy her more. Still, with the television off the room was too quiet. Finally, her eyes settled on the guitar leaning against the sofa.

Picking it up and settling on the couch, Cass began strumming out a song she heard recently. Soon she was humming along with the Brooks & Dunn song “Believe.” The music flowed from her fingers as she lost track of time. Cass was nearing the last chorus of Sarah McLauchlan’s “Angel” when she finally heard the raspy breathing of Vek’rin’ka sitting on the opposite end of the couch.

Cass stopped and opened her eyes to see the local 6 o’clock news had just started. The morning at the house seemed a million years away. “Well, it’s about time you got back. Where are you’re supplies?”

XXXXX

“Wakey, wakey Mister Burns,” Cach slapped the semiconscious man strapped to the chair. The loud snap of skin on skin echoed through the cleared out warehouse.

Burns groaned and squeezed his eyes close tighter. Slowly shaking his head to clear it he carefully opened his swollen eyes to see he was no longer in that god forsaken cell. Only a second later he realized that his hands and legs no longer bound together but to the arms and legs of a chair.

“Where am I,” Burns asked groggily trying to look past the man standing in from of him.

Cach laughed at the beaten man in front of him before saying, “We’re back on your home turf. Surely you recognize your own warehouses.”

“Why?” Burns head was still ringing from the beating the previous day as he felt the urge to try and rub the tenseness out of his temples.

“Why what? Why did we kidnap you? Why did we bring you here? Well, you know why my men beat you senseless. Or perhaps you want to know why you are still alive and not in jail?”

Groaning, Burns turned his head away from the cocky suit in front of him. The rapid fire questions stung the senses that Burns had regained as he tried to keep his mind on them. “How about we start with why you have me but haven’t turned me in. I hear there is a hefty reward for information about me.”

Cach moved away letting Burns see the rest of the team clearly for the first time. There were six men not including Cach and all of them were carrying very large automatic weapons.

“Well, let’s just say that the reward means nothing to my company. We are already well funded.” Cach stopped to gauge Burns reaction to the information that he wasn’t going to be sold out for a reward. “We are actually here to offer you a deal.” Before he continued, Cach pulled over another chair and straddled it facing Burns.

“What kind of deal,” Burns asked suspiciously. To himself he thought of what kind of deal the people who kidnap and beat someone would offer.

Cach pulled himself up to sit straight on the chair and proceeded, “We are prepared to offer you, in exchange for you services, a new identity somewhere far away. Perhaps Thailand if you please. Once there, a sizeable supply of those little girls you love so much will be provided for your entertainment for as long as you please.”

This deal’s payment had Burns salivating by the time he asked his next question while he tried to restrain the enthusiasm that tempted to overrun his common sense suspiciousness. “What kind of services would I have to provide? A big price means a big job and I’m not exactly Mr. Inconspicuous right now.”

“Firstly, the price means very little to my company if this job succeeds. As for the job itself, I’m sure you know of the beautiful Det. Hadley.” Burns nodded yes, grinning evilly as he remembered his jaunt through her home. “We simply want you to lure her here.”

“Here, why?”

Staring critically over the back of the chair at Burns, Cach replied, “Curiosity killed the cat Mr. Burns, but I suppose it is alright to tell you that she has something we want. Something that is always with her.”

“So all I have to do is lure her here and I get a new life.” Burns sat contemplating for a few minutes. “What if I decline this offer?”

Cach leaned forward in his chair and stared Burns directly in the eye. Speaking in a quiet voice that gave the impression of danger he said, “Then we would have no use for you, and as you have already experienced, my men have an extreme dislike of you.”

Burns thought about the unsaid threat and cleared his throat, “Then I guess I’m happy to take the job. How exactly do you want me to lure her here? I assume you just want her and not all her friends.”

“That, Mr. Burns, is quite simple. Simply walk around outside. Stay within the grounds of these warehouses though. When the sun sets come back here. Then we will wait for Hadley to come to us.”

Disbelief crossed Burns face. “That plan will never work. How is she supposed to know I am here?”
Smugly Cach leaned back on his chair, “Oh she’ll know. Now, do we have a deal?”

Staring at Cach straight in the eye Burns slightly nodded. “Yeah, we do. Now, are you going to untie me so I can go play bait the pig?”

Cach reached behind himself and pulled out a switchblade. Without saying a word he reached over and slit the ropes binding Burns’s arms to the chair. Burns’ arms came away from the arm rests and he rubbed his raw wrists watching as Cach moved the blade down to his legs.

Cach closed the knife and stood up. Holding out his hand to Burns he said, “Well, we should get to work then. By tonight we will have what we want, and you will have what you want.”

The corner of Burns’ mouth curved up in a wicked grin as he took Cach’s hand and pulled himself out of the chair. “I guess I should get going then.” Without waiting for a response from Cach, Burns turned and walked calmly out of the warehouse into the late morning sun.

From behind Cach one of the gunmen approached his boss. “Just what the hell was that?” Anger clouded his voice as he pulled Cach around by the shoulder regardless if their respective ranks.

“Nothing Matt. Just the company making another deal with the devil.”

“Nothing! What do you mean, ‘nothing’? There is no way the company would authorize a deal like that.” Matt was beyond angry. The thought of that child raping murderer being supplied with victims just for his help was disgusting.

Smirking at the angry man, Cach replied, “That’s right. They wouldn’t. This Burns will be dead before he leaves the city. The company has declared him expendable. They don’t even want him for Section X-T.”

“Well, that just makes my day,” Matt said as he turned back to his men. “So, how we going to settle this? Straws, I take it.”

Cach ignored the men behind him as he watched the door that Burns had left through. Soon, he thought to himself. Soon.

XXXXX

Vek’rin’ka trilled at Cass. She was definitely ready to hunt despite her melancholy music. Vek’rin’ka watched Cass as she stood and set her player down. Bringing his arm out from behind him he showed Cass her new vest.

Cass’s eyes widened when she saw her old vest. Thick pieces had been tied to the original shoulder straps. Reaching out to touch it Cass felt the same material that made the guards on Vek’rin’ka’s wrists. Firm leather also covered the entire front of the vest. Down the center of the vest were markings branded into the hide. Looking closer and then back up at Vek’rin’ka for a hint at what they meant Cass recognized them from the markings on Vek’rin’ka’s mask.

Gently Cass ran her fingers over the indented and discolored markings. “What is it?”

Vek’rin’ka pointed the markings on the vest and then to his own mask. “Hunter of Bad Bloods.”

Cass looked back down at the altered vest. Along with the shoulder guards and front plate additions, the bottom had been extended to provide cover down to her legs. The cover was attached to both the front and back with an overlapping slit on each side.

Overall the garment looked crude, like something out of an eight grade home ec class. Still, if it was effective at preventing injury then the aesthetics didn’t really matter. The only question left was how hot the normally stifling vest would be with all the extra material.

Taking the vest from Vek’rin’ka Cass told him, “I’ll be right back.” Stepping into the bedroom Cass pulled off the thick t-shirt that she had been wearing and pulled a thin white undershirt on. Next she pulled open the Velcro on the side of the vest and slipped it over her head. Closing the Velcro around her, Cass walked back out to Vek’rin’ka. She hoped that the t-shirt would allow her to stay cool enough while still preventing the chaffing that the damn vests were notorious for.

Vek’rin’ka looked at the vest as Cass settled it on herself. He walked around her adjusting a bit here and there. Finally satisfied that the main piece was properly fitted Vek’rin’ka stepped back and looked at Cass as she continued to fidget with the stiff shoulder pads. Next he pulled the simple wrist guards out of one of the pouches on his belt. They were simple, lacking even a single snap close and having to be tied with thinly cut bindings.

Cass stopped worrying the vest when Vek’rin’ka held his hand out to her. In his other hand was a small bundle. Walking up to him, Cass let Vek’rin’ka take one of her wrists.

Vek’rin’ka took Cass’s wrist and pulled the guard over her hand, still marveling at how delicate it appeared. Turning the ties to the back of her wrist Vek’rin’ka then tightened the lacings and tied it off. He repeated with Cass’s other wrist and then let her examine the pieces.

Cass held them up and looked at them. They covered from her wrist to three-quarters of the way to her elbow. They laced up like a shoe over the top of her arm and on the underside was more of Vek’rin’ka’s writing.

Not waiting for Cass to ask this time, Vek’rin’ka pointed to one of her wrists, “M-di’h’dlak. Say ‘no fear’.” He waited while Cass studied the guard a little more before pointing to the other wrist, “M-di H’chak. Say ‘no mercy’.”

Finally Cass smiled and said, “And ‘no mercy’ is exactly what the bastard is going to get.”

“We leave for hunt now,” Vek’rin’ka growled approvingly.

Cass pulled another large t-shirt over the vest and let it hang down covering the whole vest. It was hot but there was nothing she could do about that other than get to Burns fast and kill him. She left the wrist guards alone. There were enough younger people who wore similar nowadays that they wouldn’t attract too much attention.

“About time,” was Cass’s response to Vek’rin’ka with another confident smile. She tucked the handgun from her house into the waist band of her jeans under her t-shirt. Picking up the shotgun she knew she would not be able to carry it through the lobby to her truck without arousing suspicion. Vek’rin’ka solved her unspoken dilemma by taking the weapon and attaching it to his back armor plating somehow.

“Vek’rin’ka take to transport,” he assured Cass. “We go now.” He then, not to subtly, nudged Cass to the door. Taking the hint, Cass grabbed her keys off the table and turned back to Vek’rin’ka to tell him she’d be right down only to find him already gone. Shaking her head at his impatience, and amazed by his stealth she left the room and the hotel for the last time.

XXXXX

Vek’rin’ka waited near the vehicle for Cass to come down. He had no luck finding any trace of the ooman Bad Blood on his last sweep through the city, but his instinct called him back to the storage buildings. Cass had told him that the tarei’hsan had owned the land. In his experience Bad Bloods preferred to stay near known territory and he couldn’t stop himself from wanting to stay near there as well.

Finally, Vek’rin’ka picked up Cass’s scent approaching the ‘truck.’ When she got there he took the shotgun off his back and set it in the cargo area of the vehicle before anyone else saw it materialize out of nothing. Without saying a word, Cass picked up her weapon and hid it behind the seat in the cab.

“So, where do we start,” Cass questioned checking the area to make sure no one would hear them talking.

“Where Cass think Bad Blood go?”

“Well, normally I would say the coward would have run. But his credit cards have been flagged and his accounts frozen so unless he has a large stash of cash somewhere he’ll still be in town.” Cass paused before continuing, “They like to return to the scene of the crime, but the warehouse block is under surveillance just incase that happens.”

Vek’rin’ka interrupted Cass then, “No other Arbitrator’s at storage place.”

“What,” was Cass’s immediate response.

“No other Arbitrator’s,” Vek’rin’ka repeated.

“There’s something wrong over there then. Vek that is the first place we’re going to check.”

“Good Cass,” Vek’rin’ka said, thankful that he wasn’t the only one that was attracted to the same place. The only thing that bothered him is that Cass said there were supposed to be other Arbitrators guarding the place. Vek’rin’ka had not seen any other oomans around in the times that he had scouted the area. The suspicion that this hunt was turning into a trap nagged at his mind.

In truth, it was no matter. Cass would hunt the Bad Blood Burns and if the oomans had set a trap then they would die as well. After all, knowing it’s a trap is the first step in evading it.

XXXXX

Al’brk’vix watched the two figures down on the ground. Both Vek’rin’ka and the ooman were armed and Vek’rin’ka had all his ‘awu’asa on. They were going hunting and Al’brk’vix was happy to follow them. The first chance he got, he was going to set his plan in motion. First the ooman would be dealt with, just to see the reaction from the Arbitrator when he finds her body, broken by Al’brk’vix’s own hands. Today was the day of Al’brk’vix’s destiny.