2

2.5K 101 34
                                    


Karlie Kloss was a seasoned detective. Although she had only been working with her department for a few years, she had excelled at her job, quickly rising to the top and being trusted with the most difficult cases. She had caught more criminals in the last few years than the rest of her department combined. But there was still one that plagued her: Catastrophe.

The blond thief haunted her dreams. Catastrophe and her girl gang were at the forefront of her thoughts constantly. The woman had led her crew to great success in the criminal underworld; they were highly trained and their skills were practically unmatched. The group clearly had money - Catastrophe's gang was always armed to the teeth and carried all sorts of gadgets with them. No one knew for sure where the money came from. Karlie assumed it was from selling all of the things they stole.

The morning after the failed attempt at preventing a museum heist, Karlie was sleeping in her apartment. It was a small apartment, but it fit her. She lived alone and rarely entertained guests, and the minimalistic decor pleased her.

On this morning, she woke up at 8 o'clock, as usual, and shuffled into the kitchen to make coffee. However, as she reached for her coffee pot, the loud ring of her cell phone interrupted her routine. With a sigh, she turned to answer her phone. The news she received circumvented the need for coffee; Karlie immediately found herself wide awake.

"Yes, yes, of course," she mumbled into the phone as she rushed around, collecting her gear and hopping around on one foot as she tried to put a shoe one without letting go of her phone. "I'll be down there as soon as I can be - yeah, 10 minutes tops, I promise. See you." She hung up and finally finished putting on her shoes. Grabbing her keys, she raced out the door. She needed to get to the station as quickly as possible to plan that night's stake out. Apparently they had received another anonymous tip just minutes ago.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Catastrophe stalked through the halls with an attitude that made people want to get out of her way. Intimidating at the best of times and downright foul at the worst, her crew knew when to leave her alone. Today was one of those times.

One of the younger, newer members, Cut Throat, was slow in moving out of her leader's way, and was met with a scathing glare that made her shrink back against the wall as the blonde passed. Arsyn, a shorter, black-haired girl and Cat's second in command, trailed after the taller woman and shot an apologetic look toward the girl.

"You could be a bit nicer to the recruits," Arsyn muttered reproachfully once they were out of earshot of the others. Cat welcomed discourse and constructive criticism from her deputy, but not when others were listening. It made her feel like anyone would be able to challenge her authority, which, in her experience, led to people getting hurt.

"Why should I be?" Catastrophe answered. "One of them is a mole. I know it."

Arsyn sighed. Cat had been talking of little else since the job last night, and honestly, who could blame her? She ran a tight ship - no one ever leaked information, and they were always successful. Not that they were unsuccessful last night, but...it would have been much better if "that bitch Kloss" hadn't shown up.

"You don't know that for sure," Arsyn reasoned. "One of the older members could be trying to stir up trouble. Remember how long it took for Mother Chucker to warm up to you?"

"Chucker and I are good now," Cat said, deep in thought. "That was years ago. No, I trust the core group. We've been together too long for something like this to come out of nowhere. It's one of the newbies, trust me."

"Well, what are you going to do about it? Torture all of them?" Arsyn laughed humorlessly.

"Of course not. You know I would never resort to violence against one of our own like that," Catastrophe hissed. Arsyn stopped walking, her eyes widening in alarm.

"Whoa, calm down. I know you wouldn't, Cat. It was a joke," she said, bringing her arm up and gently resting her hand on the blonde's shoulder. "But at the same time, don't you worry that the girls might think you're getting soft? I mean, you're very lax about punishment around here. And this traitorous behavior can't be tolerated. I'm not suggesting torture, but you must show your strength somehow, okay? Don't let them walk all over you."

"I'm the leader, Arsyn," Catastrophe said, her eyes glimmering coldly. "I know how to keep my girls in line just fine."

Arsyn, realizing that she wouldn't be able to convince her leader otherwise at the moment, wisely chose to stop pushing the issue before Cat's anger escalated. "Of course, I didn't mean to disrespect you," she murmured. "I just worry about you, that's all."

The blonde's eyes softened slightly and her tense shoulders relaxed under Arsyn's hand. "I know." She smiled slightly, leaning down to rest her forehead against the shorter girl's. "I like that you care. I don't know what I'd do without you, Arsyn."

"You'll never have to worry about that, Cat."

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Why are they going to be attacking poor old Mr. Thompson?" Karlie asked, reading through the notes she was handed as she walked into the station. "He may be wealthy, but I'm sure he hasn't crossed them."

"No, but he's not so innocent. He crossed another group, many years ago," the commissioner said. "He apparently thwarted an attempt at hijacking a trade ship, but instead of returning it, he kept the profits for himself."

"So you're saying we need to arrest Thompson?" an officer asked.

"Not necessarily. It was so long ago, and none of the original owners can be traced. At this point, we can probably leave him to live in peace with his guilt. But it is still our duty to protect him - the syndicate he crossed wants him dead, and it seems that they've contracted Catastrophe to do it."

"Thompson has guards around his mansion, doesn't he?" someone asked.

"The museum had guards too, didn't it?" the commissioner countered.

Karlie's mind raced. This meant that she would have to be staked out at Thompson's mansion well before Catastrophe's group showed up. Where would be the best place? The bedroom? Probably. She snapped back to attention as she heard the commissioner's voice saying, "...which is why we must get him to safety before they arrive."

"When are they planning to be there?" she interjected.

"Around 1:00 AM. The informant said that it would be easy to get him out and sneak our squad in around noon, because the house is only being watched in the early morning to see if he goes to work and in the evening to make sure he comes back. We have no intention of sending him back, so one of you will wear his clothes and drive his car back around 6:00 and join the rest of the squad inside. Be ready for an assault anytime after midnight."

"How do you feel about lethal force?" an officer asked. Karlie held her breath slightly, but was unsure of why. It wouldn't matter to her if those criminals died. And they were attempting to kill someone, after all.

"Don't use it unless they're using it on you. We're aiming to capture, not kill. Shoot only to injure, and don't waste resources trying to bring them all in at once. Catastrophe is the big prize. And Kloss?" Karlie looked up to meet the commissioner's amused face. "Don't let her get monologuing on you, okay?"

Karlie snorted, remembering all of the times the other woman had outsmarted their squad by simply talking. It wouldn't happen this time - attempted murder was slightly different from picking up a few diamonds. "Yes, sir," she agreed.

Calamitous (Kaylor)Where stories live. Discover now