Undercover Badge 2; Girl With A gun (Badass with a badge ) UNDER CONSTRUCTION

***CHAPTER4*** (Part one)

***

***

Recap;

I found my soap and began to scrub at my shoulder blade, removing the fake tattoo of the four stars. I'd had it for mission in Tokyo. There was also long lasting cover up on my real tattoo. It was a black and white tiger, stalking up my spine. It was about six inches long and sat between my shoulder blades on my spine, its left front leg extended. Its head tilted to the right so you could see its face. You could see its paw on one of my vertebra, and it body was slightly twisted, as if it was stalking something.

The shirts buttons were done up barely above my cleavage, and every now and then, as I moved, one could see the teardrop shaped emerald, that hung on a silver chin around my neck.

I pulled out my barretta from my waistband and slipped the second from my ankle holster. Most of the people had managed to duck behind the table.

It was chaos.

"James!" I yelled over the sounds of splintering wood and machine gunfire. Screaming had erupted. His eyes met mine.

Midnight blue.

MY, midnight blue.

"Cover me!" I screamed, and in the next second, I'd leapt over the table, a gun in each hand. Three fast leaps had me to the window, as slivers and splinters of the wood from the table hit my back. With a push, the ball of my right foot came into contact with the bottom edge of the window. I threw myself out of the building, leaping. A brief glance of the floor, ten story below me-

CRASH!

The glass from the building next door smashed against my body. I tumbled and rolled to a stop. The floor was wide and dark, filled with furniture and equipment.

I pulled back the hammers on my guns, and rose to my feet.

Showtime.

***

***CHAPTER 4***

Part 1.

KAT.

It was the type of silence that usually made my skin crawl. But now, I was comfortable in it. Knowing there were three bodies, each in need of a bullet, made me grin in my sadistic pleasure.

I knelt, quickly removing the blue Pradas and laying them to the wall. I pulled off my jacket and blouse, showing the bulletproof vest beneath. Deep breath.

I held the guns out and began to prowl.

Every now and then there was a concrete pillar up, and there were chairs, desks, tables and filing cabinets stacked around in heaps. It was dark, almost night on that floor. My feet quietly slid on the carpeted floor, my knees slightly bent, back arched, my ears attempting to detect any faint sound. Any one at all.

Then, I heard it. A low-

CREEEEEEEEEEACK....

Behind me, it sounded like floor boards, barely noticeable. I pivoted on one foot, dropping my left arm to point the gun to the ground, holding my right arm with the gun out-

The delicate flesh on the inside of my right wrist met the skin on the inside of his right wrist. Our guns -identical- pointed at each other. He was braced just lie I was, except his tied was discarded. The top three buttons of his dress shirt undone, his cuffs rolled up to his elbows, with the black bullet proof vest on over it.

Slowly, we both lowered out guns. James' eyes were as blue as they'd ever been.

His face was so much more rugged. He was handsome enough to rip my heart out and fix it in the same breath.

"You go left." he purred to me, the low Baritone purring beneath the silence.

I nodded and turned to my left as he went the opposite way. I held both arms out and pointing down. My eyes darted left and right, searching for any signs of movement.

The dark was blue tinged, giving it that appeal that I'd once found on the back streets of New York. I sighed the breath out through my mouth. This was sooooo............

Boring.

Barely two seconds later, I heard a gunshot. And the sound was not that of a Barretta. If it was not a baretta, that moment one thing.

It wasn't James' gun.

****

***

**

COMMENT

***

***