Return to The Price of Vengeance Chapter Twelve

The Price of Vengeance

Author: Trom DeGrey
Rating: R to NC-17
Distribution: Ask first please.
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters - they're owned by Mutant Enemy and Joss Whedon - and I'm not making any money off of them. I'd be a lot happier if neither of those statements were true.

Willow awoke from a hard, deep sleep. She looked around the moon-drenched room, trying to orient herself. Tara's bedroom. She rolled onto her left side and looked at Tara's pale sleeping form. I remember.

When her crying had calmed down to hiccups and sniffles, Tara had taken her by the hand and led her upstairs, past the lighthouse bathroom and narrow office to the last door on the right. Willow had gasped when she'd entered Tara's bedroom. A mural of a wildflower field covered all four walls. In the evening sun, it had almost looked real. Tara had sat Willow on the edge of the queen-sized bed and removed her boots for her. She had then disappeared into an adjoining bathroom and quickly reappeared with a wet cloth that she used to wash Willow's face. Tara had then encouraged her to lie down and had climbed in after her, quickly soothing Willow to sleep.

Willow stretched languidly now and rolled out of bed as quietly as possible. She hadn't asked who had painted the mural then, but now she had a sneaking suspicion it was Tara herself. She padded into the bathroom and closed the door. She was startled when she flipped on the light. The bathroom was ridiculously small and Willow wondered if perhaps Tara had converted it from a walk-in closet. It was done in the palest of lavenders and the wildflower mural had been continued into the room. Willow used the facilities as she studied the care that had gone into each stroke of the wall painting. Just when I think I finally have you figured out.

She washed her hands and flipped off the light before exiting the bathroom. Tara was still sound asleep. Willow looked to her right and saw that much of the moonlight spilling into the room wasn't coming from a window but a door. She walked over and looked out. There was a small makeshift balcony built out from the L made by the house and the enclosed back porch. An Adirondack chair and a small low table took up most of the space.

Willow quietly let herself out and took a deep breath of the warm night air. Lavender and honeysuckle. She wondered if Tara had it growing in her little garden in the yard below. She picked her way around the table and chair and went out to the edge. Willow ran her hand along the black wrought iron railing that matched the wrought iron over most of the windows of the lower floor and was so prevalent among Spanish Colonials. It still felt warm from the heat of the day.

She looked up at the nearly full moon lighting the sky. There was still too much smog to really see the stars, there always was, but her beloved Luna shone white and clear. Willow smiled. Calm. She finally felt calm and centered for the first time in a very long time. She said a silent prayer of thanks and simply basked in the moonlight. She had no idea how long she stood like that and only turned away when she heard Tara come out onto the balcony. "This is nice."

Tara leaned back against the door and smiled. "It's my favorite place. Especially when the moon is so clear." Willow looked skyward again and Tara took the opportunity to study her further. She had watched from inside for several minutes. Willow was breathtaking in moonlight. Even her hair had been washed out to a silvery shade.

They stood that way for an immeasurable amount of time until Willow finally reached her hand out toward Tara. Tara pushed away from the door and skirted the table, sliding her hand into Willow's. Willow reached back and pulled Tara's other arm around her waist and leaned back. They both sighed and melted into one another.

Tara closed her eyes and laid her head on Willow's shoulder. "Are you okay?" she whispered.

Willow sighed. "Yeah. And thank you."

Tara raised her head just enough to put her chin on Willow's shoulder. "For?"

"Just listening. Not judging."

Tara smiled and laid her head back down. "I'm the last person in the world who can judge anyone, Willow. The last person in the world."

Willow rubbed Tara's hands clasped at her navel. "You kissed me." She felt Tara stiffen.

Tara raised her head again slowly. Willow's tone had been unreadable - soft, low, neutral. "Um, yeah, I kinda panicked a little bit. I hope that was okay."

Willow laughed softly and reached up, urging Tara to lay her head back down. "Gosh, I think I'll live," she whispered.

Tara smiled and relaxed back into Willow's slight frame. "So, since you had the nervous breakdown, does that mean you won't turn into a gun toting loony on me?" Willow snorted and smacked Tara's hands. Tara giggled. "Hey now, you already know I don't have any rubber outfits or whips, so lay off the rough stuff there."

Willow groaned and leaned her head back. "How long am I going to have to put up with this?"

Tara laughed. "I guess until the new Willow gets used to catching shit from the same old snarky Tara."

Willow smiled up at the moon. "I don't think Tara is nearly as snarky as she wants people to believe." She turned in Tara's arms and regarded her. Willow shook her head as the left side of Tara's mouth turned up into her crooked grin. "I used to think you were just some mouthy, cocky, pain in the ass PI. But now? I'm just not sure about you, Tara Maclay. You painted the mural in there, didn't you."

"I can't be a mouthy, cocky, pain in the ass PI and a little bit of a painter too?"

Willow shook her head again and tucked a stray lock of hair behind Tara's ear. "What else are you going to surprise me with?"

"Hmm." Tara squinted her eyes and tilted her head skyward. She suddenly pulled Willow tight to her, pressing them together from thigh to chest. "Surprise," she whispered and lowered her face, pressing her lips to Willow's.

Willow moaned softly and fought with herself to not take over the kiss. Tara's lips were soft and warm and she kept teasing with the tip of her tongue or a brush of her teeth. Need flashed through Willow hot and hard like an explosion and she was left with the butterflies of anticipation fluttering everywhere. She finally drew back, trembling and heavy lidded. "You keep surprising me like that and I won't be able to embark on my life of crime tonight."

Tara smiled. "Maybe I'm trying to distract you," she whispered and leaned in to kiss Willow again. They both jumped slightly when the hourly chime on Willow's watch beeped. Tara pulled back. "What time is it?"

Willow frowned and turned her wrist over. "One."

Tara sighed. "You're right. We need to get going." She stepped out of Willow's embrace and looked down at herself. "Let me get changed real quick and we'll take off."

Willow smiled at Tara's baggy tan shorts and blue 'Save the Earth. It's the Only Planet with Beer' t-shirt. "I liked the gray one you had on yesterday better."

Tara looked down at her chest and then grinned at Willow. "I knew you thought they were nice." She turned and went back inside to the sound of Willow's laughter. She closed the door and took a deep breath, letting the air conditioning cool her flushed skin. A shudder rumbled through her and Tara groaned quietly. "Down, girl," she muttered. Time to focus. If she freaks, I've got to be able to get her out of there fast. The thought sobered her and Tara began rummaging through the basket of clean clothes she hadn't put away yet, knowing the clothes she'd worn to break into the warehouse the last time were there. She dressed quickly and began braiding her hair in the still, cool, quiet of her bedroom. I have no idea where we're going to end up. She grinned at her reflection. Other than in bed maybe. She tucked her braid down the back of her shirt. But we've got to get through this case in one piece first. Tara took another deep breath at that thought and pulled on her boots. She went back out onto the balcony where she found Willow leaning on the railing, looking down into her backyard. "Having second thoughts?"

Willow turned. "No, just cooling off." She squeezed past Tara and went to the door. "I always thought you were hard to concentrate around. Now I know you are." Tara just grinned and followed her back into the house.

They emerged through the back door and Tara went to the garage. "Let me wheel her out and we'll get going."

Willow nodded. She put her jacket and helmet on top of her car and popped the trunk. She began loading and holstering all her weapons. Her .45 Glock on her right hip, a 9mm Firestar for a left-handed draw at her back, and then she put her right foot up on her bumper and strapped the Smith & Wesson .38 to her ankle.

"Jesus Christ! I thought I wasn't going to have to worry about the gun toting loony thing, or are you going for the Annie Oakley look tonight?" Tara said as she pushed the Triumph out and closed the garage door behind her.

"Actually, I was thinking more of Bonnie," Willow said as she pulled on her jacket and helmet.

"Yeah, well, the first time you call me Clyde, we've got a problem," Tara said as she put on her own helmet and climbed onto the bike.

Willow settled in behind her. "Hey now, if we find something good in this warehouse and you might find out if I've got handcuffs too."

Tara started the bike. "Tease."

Willow frowned and lowered her binoculars. "Who the hell do you think is in there at this hour?"

Tara sighed and tucked her monocular back into her jacket. "I don't know, but I'm going around to the corner so I can see the license plate."

Willow watched Tara disappear into the dark of the alley. She looked out again at the warehouses and the red pickup truck parked in front of the building on the right. It was the warehouse they wanted to get in to and Willow could see a light on on the top floor. She blew out an impatient breath. "I'm nervous enough without having to stand here and wait. Would you just go home?" She worried her bottom lip and ducked further back into the alley. Am I doing the right thing? Willow frowned. This isn't exactly the best time to wonder about that now, is it? She had fought and argued and basically not given Tara a choice in the matter. Now was not the time to climb back into her shell. "You've finally found someone willing to accept you exactly as you are and now you want to try and be dependable Willow again?" Willow shook her head at herself. Be the person you want to be. You're not hurting anyone.

She went back to the edge of the alley and looked out. There was no movement in the warehouse, but movement in the shadows to her right caught her attention. Willow could see Tara half a block away at the corner, just out of the street light writing down the license plate number from the truck. She began chewing her bottom lip again and looked back to the warehouse. Where are things going to end up with her? Willow grinned at her first thought. Other than in bed. She snorted. "Focus," she mumbled. "Nothing will happen if you're in the hospital or in the grave."

Willow continued to watch the warehouse and the street around her, fighting with butterflies of a different kind in her belly. She jumped when Tara suddenly appeared at her side.

"Here." Tara handed her a slip of paper with the license number on it. "You can go through the BMV for that, right?" Willow nodded. "Good. If nothing turns up then I can run it through a few people I know."

Willow tucked the paper away and they continued to watch the warehouse for several more long, tense minutes. Finally, the light went out and a few moments later a figure in a blue sweatshirt with the hood pulled up emerged from between the buildings. He climbed into the pickup, hung a U-turn and drove off.

Willow stuck her head out from the alley just far enough to watch him drive down the street and turn north on Henderson Boulevard. "I think we're clear."

Tara nodded, but was busy scanning the buildings again. "Looks good." She pocketed her monocular and pulled down her mask. "The dumpster is between the buildings on the left side, so watch yourself," she said as Willow pulled her own mask down. Willow giggled. Tara sighed. "Hush, let's go."

They ran across the street and into the darkness between the two warehouses, avoiding the dumpster and stopping at the far end of the buildings. The light above the warehouse Tara had already visited was still out. Tara searched for a rock big enough and then threw it at the other light. She missed badly.

Willow slapped a hand over her mouth to keep from laughing out loud. Tara hung her head and sighed. Willow got control over herself and found a rock of her own. She stepped out just enough to get a clear shot and bullseyed the light.

They flattened themselves against the wall, listening for anyone else nearby. Tara looked over at Willow. "Nice arm," she whispered.

"More than can be said for you. You throw like a girl," Willow whispered back.

Tara rolled her eyes. "I realize you haven't gotten a good look yet, but I am a girl. Who taught you how to throw like that?"

Willow looked at her like she'd admitted to being a closet Republican. "I'm a dyke and a cop. You're kidding, right? I play on the Department softball team."

Tara shrugged and they went back to waiting. A few more moments passed and Willow began to fidget. "Are you okay?" Tara whispered.

Willow nodded. "Just nervous."

Tara pushed away from the wall and pressed herself belly to belly against Willow. She used her new place closer to the edge of the wall to lean out and look around. "That's not helping," Willow gasped.

Tara leaned back in and smiled. "I wasn't trying to help." She slid away from Willow and ran for the door. Willow groaned but followed closely.

Tara made quick work of the door and they were inside. Willow suppressed a shiver. I'm a criminal. "Should we check the truck first?" Only one truck was in this warehouse, but the floor was stacked with tall, wide, wooden shipping crates.

Tara pulled out a flashlight. "I'll do it. Why don't you start looking in some of these boxes?" Willow nodded and produced a flashlight of her own.

They separated and Tara climbed into the cab of the truck. After a few moments of searching, she decided there was nothing useful inside and got out and went to the back. She raised the back door just enough to see the truck was empty, just as the other two had been. She nearly peed herself when an awful screeching noise echoed off the walls. She ran around the truck to find Willow standing frozen next to one of the shoulder-high crates, her hands still on the crow bar she'd wedged under the lid. "Are you nuts?" Tara hissed. She ran over to her. "Are you trying to get us caught?"

Willow rolled her eyes, pulled the crowbar out from under the lid with one hand and took the flashlight out of her mouth with the other. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I didn't think it'd be that loud, obviously." She frowned at Tara's defeated sigh. "Besides, now we'll find out what's actually in these." She pushed the lid aside and peeked in. "I can't see anything. Give me a boost."

Tara bent over and Willow stepped into her cupped hands. She hoisted herself onto the edge of the crate and began digging through the packing material as she balanced on her abdomen. "Uh-oh."

Tara exhaled sharply. "What?"

Willow pulled out a submachine gun and handed it to Tara. She reached in again for something else and then pushed herself off the crate. Tara was holding the gun like it was a cobra ready to strike. "What the hell is this?"

"Looks like an MP7 to me." Willow held up the handgun she'd pulled from the crate. "And I believe this is a Desert Eagle."

Tara's eyes widened. "That's a hand cannon." Indeed, the gun looked comically large in Willow's hand, like something more out of a science fiction movie than real life.

"It pretty much is," Willow agreed. She pulled up her jacket and tucked it into the front of her pants.

"You did not just do that."

"It's so I can trace it later."

Tara rolled her eyes and handed the MP7 over. "This has to be my father," she said as she watched Willow look over the weapon and then toss it back in the crate and replace the lid. "Donnie hates guns as much as I do."

"Why don't you like guns?"

"Dad had a couple he liked to wave around on the occasions he had too much to drink. He almost shot all three of us more than once." Tara shone her flashlight around and found the stairs at the back of the room next to the large service elevator. "Let's see what else we can find."

The second floor was loaded with similar crates and they found more guns in most of the ones that were open. The third floor had smaller shipping crates scattered over the floor. Willow bent over an open one and dug through it. Her heart began hammering in her chest when she pulled out a small clay pot.

Tara kneeled down next to her. "What the hell?"

"Oh, my god, Tara," Willow croaked. "This is beyond serious."

Tara frowned and took the pot from her. It looked like simple pottery to her, not even particularly well made. "What am I looking at?"

"We got an update from the DEA three months ago about these." Willow fiddled with the base of the pot and it suddenly fell off into her hand.

Tara could see something taped inside. "What's that?" She could feel the dread sitting low in her gut.

"Heroin, most likely." Willow poked at the plastic bag. A powder was visible inside. She blew out a breath and replaced the false base. "Whose idea would this have been?" she asked as she carefully put the pot back into the crate.

"The girls and this are Donnie. He's more into human suffering than getting blood and gun oil on his hands." Tara sat down heavily. She felt like she was going to vomit. "What are we going to do?"

Willow sat down next to her. "Well, we've got to find these missing kids. But what if we send Giles an anonymous tip?" Willow shrugged. "It might not catch your dad and brother, but at least none of this stuff would make it to the street."

Tara nodded. "Let's see what was so important in that office that someone was here this late."

They made their way to the top floor and found the office door locked. Tara quickly picked it. "Can you teach me to do that?" Willow asked.

Tara grinned. "You're going whole hog for this life of crime thing, huh?"

Willow frowned as she closed the door behind them. "Of course not. I just think it'd be a useful skill to have."

Tara checked the blinds and then turned on the desk lamp. She pulled up her mask. "I'll see what I can do."

Willow pulled up her own mask and looked around at the handful of filing cabinets. "How about I start with these?" Tara nodded and sat down at the desk.

They both shuffled through books and papers in silence for a few minutes. "Lots of manifests for South American produce," Willow said. "What's this?" She pulled a large manila envelope from the back of one of the file drawers. She dumped it out on the desk and the two of them began sifting through handwritten notes.

"Gustavo Martine?" Tara said, deciphering one of the signatures. "The Central American gunrunner?"

Willow scanned a few more. "Juarez Estabon, Andrei Tetrakofsky. Your father left no major stone unturned in the gun department. These are all big hitters according to the ATF."

Tara frowned. "But why would they be this careless? Why is Fin keeping these notes? Why are all these guys sending this kind of evidence along with the gun shipments?"

Willow shrugged. "Who knows what Fin is thinking, but these guys? Why would they care? Everyone knows who they are and what they traffic in. But you can't prosecute what you can't catch. And they have larger personal arsenals than most of the militaries in the countries they live in. They think they're invincible." She frowned. "All of it's weird if you ask me though. The ledger was hidden, but not very well and none of it was even encoded and all of this stuff is just sort of lying around. What kind of moron is running this thing?"

Tara shook her head. "I don't know. I can't believe my brother and dad would have someone this incompetent running an operation of this magnitude." She chewed the inside of her cheek in thought for a moment. "Maybe we should check the other warehouse again. Maybe I just got here a few days too early and they've filled the other one now too."

Willow sighed. "I guess we could. But your kid - "

"Dawn," Tara interrupted. "I'm sorry. I should have told you that from the beginning. Her name is Dawn."

Willow grinned. "No, you were right to not tell me in the beginning, but thank you. So, Dawn - she's been missing for a month now. We know they've been operating in the city for at least that amount of time. My question is, why are these warehouses just now getting filled? What the hell have they been doing?"

"Bribing? Getting the trucks and warehouses rented? Maybe that's how long it took to get the orders placed and the money exchanged."

"But why take the girls so early then? Do you see what I'm saying?"

Tara nodded. "Yeah, yeah I do. Even when you live on the street you notice when some people suddenly aren't around anymore. Hiding frightened girls is a lot harder than hiding guns or drugs." She rubbed her eyes. "Which means I could be wrong about Dawn still being in the city."

"Or, there could have been other shipments that have already been moved and are god only knows where." Willow squeezed at the tension in her neck. "Did you find anything?"

"Nothing except a locked drawer," Tara said as Willow gathered the notes and deposited them back in the filing cabinet. "Which I'll unlock right now." She popped the lock and found a thin blue binder in the bottom of the drawer. "What do we have here?" She laid the binder out on the desk and flipped it open.

"Addresses?" Willow said, reading over Tara's shoulder.

"Jackpot," Tara whispered. "These are his other locations." She pointed at three on the first page. "These are south dock warehouses." She flipped the page and pointed at two more. "That's in the industrial park just around the corner from here on Henderson." She pointed to names written in next to each address. "What do you think about these? The cronies he's got running each site?"

Willow nodded. "That'd be my guess." She pointed to several different colored dots next to each name. "Most of the folders in the filing cabinets have one of these dots on the outside of them. I bet it's some sort of color-coding system."

"This book must be Fin's quick reference." Tara pulled open a drawer and began digging through the desk frantically.

"What are you doing?"

"There are five pages here. I'm looking for paper to write all this on."

Willow tapped her on the shoulder. "Get up. I can memorize them."

Tara looked up. Seeing Willow was serious, she closed the drawer and got out of the way. She stood and fidgeted a moment as she watched Willow settle herself at the desk and begin to scan the pages in the binder.

Tara looked down at her feet and saw the trash can. What can it hurt? She rummaged through it for a moment and found a handful of wadded up papers. She tossed them up on the desk and searched some more. She came up with a few more scraps before straightening and beginning to smooth them out. A few of them were full of doodles and Tara tossed them back in the trash. A couple had phone numbers jotted on them. Tara pocketed those. She gasped when she unwadded a restaurant receipt.

Willow looked up as she closed the binder. "What?"

"His name is Riley Finn - two n's."

Willow dropped the binder back in the drawer and kicked it closed. "That was the name of the guy with the juvenile record on my list."

"You want to break some more rules with me and go see Becky Walters tomorrow?"

"Definitely." Willow looked at the receipt over Tara's shoulder. "Oh my god."


"Tara, look where it's from. Dunaway's."

"Huh." Tara put the receipt in her pocket. "What the hell was he doing in the biggest cop pub in town?"

Willow stood silent for a moment. Fear and horror twisted in her belly. "I want to see that ledger."

"Why? We have pictures of it."

Willow shook her head. "No, Tara, I want to see it for myself. My intuition is screaming bloody murder at me."

Tara shrugged and pulled down her mask. "Okay, let's go. We'll see if they've filled the other warehouse."

Willow put her own ski mask back in place and flipped off the light. They made their way downstairs and out of the warehouse, jogging over to the other building where Tara picked the lock again. They both stopped short once they got inside. Aside from the two trucks, the lower level was filled with the same kind of large crates they had found in the other warehouse.

"They had to have gotten in all this stuff at once or at least within a few days of one another," Tara said.

Willow nodded in agreement. "And, you know, that's something else I don't get. Why the hell did they kill off all their inspectors? They couldn't possibly think we were that close, could they? I mean, now they have to bribe new people. How many crooked government employees do they think they'll find working down here?" Tara looked over at her and Willow could see her grin even in the dark. She held up a hand. "Don't answer that."

Tara chuckled. "Well, I think your first question has two possible answers. One, they'll use it as intimidation. When they bribe new people they'll make sure the new inspectors understand that if they don't do what they want and keep their mouths shut then the same thing will happen to them." She sighed. "The second option makes me want to barf, but it's a distinct possibility. They might have killed them off because nothing else is coming in and they didn't want to risk anyone talking. Which means it's even more likely that Dawn is gone."

Willow blew out a breath. "Well, then the good news would be that we may have just had bad timing. They might not know about us at all."

"How likely do you think that is?" Tara's skepticism filled the space between them.

Willow sighed. "Okay, okay, zero. We're probably eyeball deep in shit."

Tara chuckled. "Potty mouth. Let's go."

They picked their way through the crates and found the stairs in the back. The second and third floors looked much the same as the other warehouse. "I just can't believe how fast they filled this place up," Tara said as they reached the office door on the fourth floor. She bent down and worked the lock.

"Maybe they filled some of those other locations first."

"Let's hope. Otherwise, who knows how much has hit the streets."

Willow closed the door behind her as Tara went over to the desk and disappeared under it for a moment. She came up waving the ledger. "Here you go." She sat it on the desk and stepped over to the window, splitting the blinds just enough to see out.

Willow sat down. She was suddenly so nervous, her hands were shaking. She looked at the desk lamp for a moment, but instead pulled out her flashlight and flipped it on. She opened the book and began turning pages, recognizing each one from Tara's pictures.

She stopped at the last page. It was new. "I'm gonna be sick." Willow yanked her mask off. Her head was swimming and she had broken out into a cold sweat.

"What? What?" Tara asked, lunging from the window to grab Willow by the shoulders. She had been weaving in the seat and Tara had thought for a moment that she was going to pass out. "Willow, what?" She looked down at the ledger and saw the new page. She recognized a couple of the names. "Fuck. They're bribing cops?"

Willow slumped in the chair and laid her head back. "Two of them have been assigned to the inspector murders," she whispered. She was nearly in tears. "And one of them is in my squad."

Tara felt the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. She pulled up her mask and knelt next to Willow. "I am begging you to leave town," she whispered. "Willow, I am scared out of my mind. Please do this for me."

Willow looked down at her and smiled an exhausted smile. "We've had one hell of a day, haven't we?" She ran the back of a gloved hand over Tara's cheek. "I talked to Lt. Giles about taking vacation and going underground. He said he'd sign the paperwork."

Tara grabbed Willows hand and held it to her racing heart. If I keep her close, I can keep her safe. "Okay, okay. Do that. I can hide us. You just have to disappear from your normal life."

Willow nodded. "I'll figure something out."

They both jumped when a car door slammed outside. Tara lunged for the window and looked out. "Shit, shit, shit! The red pickup is back." She turned away from the window and looked around. "We can't hide here. Put the ledger back, we've gotta move."

Willow found the shelf under the desk and replaced the ledger. She flipped off her flashlight and followed Tara out. There were only a handful of smaller crates in one corner just outside the office, but it was the only feasible place to hide. They heard footsteps on the stairs and both crammed themselves in behind the boxes, pulling their ski masks back on and into place.

They held their breaths when they heard and felt the footfalls reach their floor. They were just down from the office door and couldn't see anyone until a dark form stepped up to the door and used his keys. They both let out a sigh of relief when he closed the door behind him.

Willow and Tara slinked out from their hiding place and tip-toed for the stairs. They silently made their way down and were nearly to the bottom floor when Tara slipped and slid down the last seven or eight steps on her butt.

Willow ran the rest of the way down and helped Tara up. "Are you okay?" she whispered.

Tara grimaced but nodded. They both looked up when they heard feet suddenly thumping across a floor above them. "Run!" Tara said and took off for the warehouse door.

They could hear footfalls on the stairs as they reached the door and pushed their way out. They ran through the darkened space between the buildings and heard the warehouse door slam open again as they darted across the street.

"Get the bike started," Willow said as they reached the alley. She stayed in the darkness, but pulled her Glock. When she saw a figure come around the corner of the warehouse, she fired a shot at the dumpster. Sparks flew when her bullet pinged off the metal and she heard a shout. She fired two more shots at the dumpster before turning her gun on the truck. She shot out the driver's side tires and then shot the dumpster again, sending another shower of sparks. It was quiet for a moment and she didn't see any movement. Willow turned and ran when she heard the Triumph rumble to life.

"Get on, Annie Oakley! Let's go!"

Willow holstered her Glock and jumped onto the back of the bike. "Go!" And they roared out of the back of the alley and into the night.

Continue to The Price of Vengeance Chapter Fourteen

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