"White Rabbit" chapter 9 by TdFmN

[esercito sconfitto]

Chapter 9 Complete






The assassin parked her rented car in an alley about two blocks from the precinct headquarters and quickly changed into the uniform she had taken from the policewoman she had killed 10 minutes previously. She wanted to use her silenced .40 caliber pistol, rather than the dead cop’s issue 9 mm, but it wouldn’t fit the cop’s holster and walking around the police station with a pistol in her hand would certainly... attract attention. With her knife and her more-than-human strength she “altered” the holster so it would accommodate her own pistol. Anyone who looked closely would realize something was wrong. But at least it was less obvious than carrying the gun in her hand would be, and she didn’t intend to let anyone she met live very long in any case. Approaching the precinct headquarters, she debated whether to climb the telephone pole and sever the phone lines running into the building. If anyone inside was talking on the phone at the moment she severed the lines, they might become suspicious and sound a warning. But Sayaka decided that was less of a risk then having someone call in to report the massacre at the business park, while there were still living cops in the building. Checking to see there was no one around (it was, after all, about 1:00 AM), she quickly climbed the pole and severed the phone lines. That done, she quietly made her way to the rear of the building.

The motor pool behind the building was surrounded by a 10-foot chain link fence and watched by a security camera. A buxom maintenance technician in coveralls – the assassin noted with a slight smile that the coveralls were unzipped to the navel (a concession to the warm night and the difficulty of her work) and that the technician was wearing neither bra nor undershirt – was working on one of the squad cars. The hum from some machine she was using under the vehicle’s hood provided all the background noise the assassin needed. As the security camera swept across the motor pool parking area, Sayaka waited until she was sure the technician was no longer in its field of view. Only Sayaka heard the cough from the silenced pistol, the shocked, agonized grunt of the technician, and the muffled thud of a soft body hitting hard asphalt. Only Sayaka saw the enticing quivering of the cleavage, exposed by the unzipped coveralls, as the .40 caliber bullet impacted between the woman’s voluptuous breasts.

The 10-foot fence was alarmed to detect anyone tampering with it. But this was useless against a woman who could (with a running start) cleanly leap over the fence. By the time the camera had swept back to cover the area where the technician had been, the White Rabbit had dragged the shapely, inert body behind the car. Anyone monitoring the camera would simply assume the technician had gone back into the building.

-----“Hey, Donna! Making any progress on Car 117?”

A second technician was doing paper work at a desk near the door. She didn’t even look up as she shouted her question over the hum of the machine in the motor pool parking lot.

-----“Donna? Can you hear m… mummph!”

Her second question was interrupted by an extremely strong arm encircling her throat and the pressure of an extremely strong hand suddenly applied to the back of her head. This was followed by a soft but sharp crack. The swivel chair emitted a brief squeaking as the victim jerked spasmodically for perhaps half a second and then collapsed back limply, her head lolling at an… unusual… angle.

The White Rabbit detected, above the hum from the parking lot, the rhythmic clank of metal on metal from further in the building. She was puzzled for a moment, then realized a police station like this would undoubtedly have a workout room for the cops to exercise, maybe a boxing ring or judo mats as well. Someone was working on a weight machine. As she approached the sound, she also heard water running – a shower. The White Rabbit, even though wearing a policewoman’s uniform, stepped back into the shadows as a blushing young woman exited the shower and headed for the locker room. She had undoubtedly realized that two was company, three was a crowd. The moans emanating from the shower room told the assassin that the two cop chicks still occupying it were doing… more… that just showering. She would attend to them shortly. But first she followed the short-haired brunette into the locker room.

Patrolwoman Miranda Forest was annoyed – and jealous. Delaney and Crane would catch hell if Sergeant Waylon or Lieutenant Anders were to wander in and find them... doing…that… on duty. Commander Mason was also still in the building – unusual for this time of night – but the young patrolwoman knew there was some sort of big raid in progress. Still, as she reached into the locker for her panties, she couldn’t help wishing she could join Delaney and Crane for a threesome. She dropped her panties and gasped in surprise as a soft but forceful hand covered her mouth from behind while the stranger’s other hand, her left, caressed Miranda’s upper thigh and then slid up… inside… the astonished policewoman. Who the Hell??? Then the doomed police woman was beyond wondering. Her head was spinning and her freshly-showered body was sweating and she could only writhe and whimper in ecstasy as those strong, incredibly skilled fingers teased and tormented her. Her unknown “lover’s” right hand slid down from her mouth and expertly kneaded her victim’s breasts. Just as Miranda Forest was about to scream in orgasm, that right hand slid back up her torso. But this time it closed around her throat with terrifying, inhuman strength. The terrified cop actually felt her trachea collapse. Her scream was crushed into a barely audible – even to White Rabbit – gurgle. The assassin’s left hand didn’t stop exploring between her victim’s smooth, soft thighs until the policewoman had gone completely limp.

Sayaka lowered the nude corpse to the locker room floor. She picked up the panties the cop chick had dropped and wiped down the lifeless body. The assassin knew it was theoretically possible to recover fingerprints from human skin. The process was difficult and often ended in failure, but why take the chance? Then too, she may have just wanted to fondle those toned thighs and soft breasts once more, this time through the soft cotton of the panties. That completed, White Rabbit placed the panties over the dead woman’s face as she had done earlier that night with Devereux’ accountant and receptionist, and that last policewoman she had killed outside Devereux’ office. She decided it would be sort of a “trademark style”. No doubt her having a “trademark style” would annoy Colonel Davis just as much as using “White Rabbit pun” names – like “Blanche O’Hare” or “Bunny Weiss” – had. Well, she wouldn’t use her “style” all the time; but it amused her to use it when it she could get away with it.

The intensity and tempo of the moans from the shower were calling Sayaka to… join the fun. Whoever was working on the weight machine, she must be really dedicated not be distracted by the noise. Sayaka decided to deal with her first and save the two in the shower for “dessert”. It was clear they wouldn't be leaving the shower anytime soon. The assassin slipped unnoticed past the entrance to the shower and walked into the weight room. Lisa Carlisle had just finished her last rep on the machine. Her sweat-soaked leotard clung to her athletic body as she caught her breath and debated whether she should head for the showers immediately, and to hell with Delaney and Crane, or whether she should wait till they were done. She stared as the athletic-looking (and beautiful) young Asian woman walked into the weight room, still wearing her patrol uniform. Patrolwoman Carlisle decide she would hang out in the weight room a while longer… She didn't have to report for her shift for another 45 minutes, anyway.

----"New here? I don't think I've seen you before."

-"Yes, I was only just assigned to this precinct. Sergeant... uhh..."

----"Waylon?"

-"Yes! That's the name I was trying to remember. Sergeant Waylon told me to familiarize myself with the building layout and report back to her at 2:00 AM. My names Linda... Weiss, by the way."

She had to think up a name quickly and had fallen back on a last name she had used before. The assassin casually positioned her arms so the policewoman sitting at the weight machine wouldn't see that her name tag said "Wilkins", the name of the dead cop chick from whom she had stripped the uniform. Sayaka had left the name tag attached since being "out of proper uniform" would attract attention. But she couldn't actually call herself Wilkins since most of the officers at this precinct had probably known the real Wilkins. But the young cop in the leotard was far too distracted to pay attention to nametags, or to notice that the pistol in "Linda's" holster was certainly not police-issue.

----"Nice to meet you, Linda. I'm Lisa; Lisa Carlisle. So what do you think of our precinct so far."

Sayaka grinned as she looked around the weight room.

-"This is a nice facility. I work out a lot and..."

That much was obvious, Lisa thought, as she eyed the new girl's lithe-yet-muscular form.

-"... it's nice to see that the precinct has such a nice place to..."

Sayaka smiled meaningfully as she glanced toward the direction of the shower... and the plainly audible moans and panting.

-"... get... physical."

Lisa swallowed hard. Her rapid breathing had nothing to do with the weight routine

----"S... so... did you bring your workout clothes with you. I was j... just about to bench some free weights and could use a spotter..."

This last was a lie. Before "Linda" had walked in, Lisa had intended to call it a night. But she found she desperately wanted to keep "Linda" around for a while.

-"No, no workout clothes. But if you want a spotter..."

Lisa stared in disbelief as the assassin stripped off her uniform shirt and slid the uniform skirt down her strong, shapely legs. Sayaka almost never wore a bra. Lisa gaped at the amazing young woman standing before her clad only in panties and stockings that came up to mid-thigh. She had taken the stockings from the deceased Patrolwoman Wilkins. The panties were Sayaka's own, and the dark tangle of her pubic hair was clearly visibly through the shear fabric.

-"... I'll be happy to help. I just don't want to get sweat on the shirt or skirt."

As if in a daze, Linda lay down on the weight bench and lowered the barbell to her chest. The new girl walked sensuously over to the bench and prepared to spot. But instead she forcibly re-positioned the barbell over her victim's throat and slowly but irresistibly pressed down.

----"What are you doing??? NO!!! STOP!!! PLEA...gghhh..."

The terrified cop's pleading was abruptly cut off as, for the second time in less than eight minutes, Sayaka crushed a policewoman's windpipe. This time she was staring directly into her victim's eyes as the light went out of them. Sayaka returned the barbell to the rack and tore away a section of Lisa's leotard, accidently... sort of... exposing her left breast in the process, to wipe any fingerprints from the bar. Without even bothering to dress, she picked her pistol up from among her clothes and headed toward the shower.

Moira “Red” Delaney closed her eyes and moaned in ecstasy as her shorter brunette colleague licked and sucked on her left breast. Her arms were wrapped around Theresa Crane’s torso, one hand in the small of her patrol partner’s back and the other caressing Theresa’s buttocks.

-“You two put on quite a show. It’s too bad I don’t have time to stay and watch.”

The two doomed patrolwomen spun around in surprise. The White Rabbit noticed with amusement that the tall redhead’s pubic hair was as crimson as the hair on her head, while the petit brunette’s pubic mound was completely bare. Moira Delaney had time only to notice that a beautiful young woman, probably not more than 19 and clad only in nylon stockings and very shear panties, was covering her with a large-caliber, silenced pistol. The report of that pistol seemed loud in the confined space of the shower, but wouldn’t actually be heard outside the physical fitness section of the station. Patrolwoman Moira Delaney slumped to the shower room floor. The scarlet hair that so dramatically contrasted with her pale flesh was now eclipsed by the even more dramatic scarlet of the ugly bullet hole between her beautiful breasts.

Theresa Crane stared in horror at her lover sprawled lifeless on the floor. She turned slowly, paralyzed with fear, to face the White Rabbit.

---“No! Please don’t kill me! I’m unarmed!”

“Pretty pathetic last words” the assassin thought to herself, as she pressed the trigger a second time. She didn’t even bother to turn off the shower spraying warm water over the two gradually cooling bodies. Changing back into Officer Wilkins’ uniform and giving a conspiratorial wink to the inert form sprawled on the weight bench, Sayaka inserted a fresh magazine into her pistol (even though the old one probably still had more rounds than she would need), re-holstered it, and walked into the main section of the precinct headquarters.

She hadn’t expected there to be many cops around, given the number of policewomen supporting the operation at the Devereux building. Her more-than-human hearing told her that activity was occurring in only two rooms on this corridor. In the office two doors down on the right, a woman in civilian clothes, probably a detective, was interrogating a young but tough looking blonde in handcuffs. Her suppressed pistol hadn’t alerted anyone in the main section of the building when she had used it a couple of minutes ago in the shower. But here it would be different. She wouldn’t use the pistol unless forced to. Sayaka had left her fighting knife, a lethal close combat weapon but too large to effectively conceal in the tight-fitting blouse or short skirt of the police uniform, in the car in the alley. But the utility belt that held her pistol holster also had pouches for several other pieces of equipment; handcuffs, pepper spray, a notebook, and a small folding utility knife. More a tool than a weapon, it was nevertheless adequate to the task at hand. Silently she drew and unfolded the knife. She grabbed a sheaf of papers at random from the office across the hall from the interrogation room and casually walked in to confront the detective. The plainclothes policewoman looked at the unknown patrolwoman with curiosity but no alarm. It must be someone newly assigned to the precinct.

-“Excuse me, Ma’am. Could you look at this please?”

As the detective reached out to take the proffered papers, Sayaka’s other hand lashed out with the speed of a striking rattlesnake. The detective’s eyes opened wide with shock. She tried to scream but only a gurgle escaped from her slashed throat. Sayaka had already stepped aside to avoid any blood spray, cupped her empty hand over the blonde punk’s mouth, and slid the blade into her handcuffed victim’s solar plexus. Keeping her hand in place to suppress any outcry, she pulled the knife blade from the dying blonde punk’s heart and looked pack at the detective. But the woman’s eyes were already glazing over and her hands, which had uselessly clasped her throat, dropped to her side. The detective was not quite dead yet but she would never regain consciousness in the few seconds she had left. Within moments the young blonde’s heart had also stopped beating. The assassin calmly cleaned the knife blade on the girl’s tee shirt and returned it to its pouch. Knowing that, as with human skin, it was difficult but sometimes possible to pull fingerprints from ordinary paper, she carefully took the top and bottom sheets from the papers she had dropped as she had killed the detective, and stashed them away. She would dispose of them later. She likewise pulled the blonde girls’ cotton tee shirt and wiped her mouth, though it was likely that any fingerprints left when she had smothered the punk’s screams would have been too smeared to be useful.

The White Rabbit headed to the room at the end of the hallway, from which she had also heard conversation. Approaching the room, she was alarmed by what she heard. The course of the conversation and the static when one of the voices spoke told the assassin that someone in the room was talking to someone else… over a radio. Once radios had been commonly carried in every patrol car and even by individual officers. But because of the effects of the residual EMP from the Cataclysm, radios were now, of necessity, large and expensive. They were used in buildings and onboard ships, and in a few very important vehicles and aircraft. Sayaka had assumed that when she severed the phone lines into the building, she had cut it off from external communication, other than someone from outside physically entering. She mentally kicked herself for not considering the possibility that the police station – a precinct headquarters – would have a radio. She ruefully reflected that Colonel Davis wouldn’t have so carelessly made that assumption.

Listening in on the conversation, Sayaka knew what had happened. The surviving officers at the Devereux building had discovered the dead cops, that there was no phone service anywhere within the business park, and that all their vehicles had been disabled. They had sent a runner to the nearest building outside the park and tried to phone headquarters. Failing to get through they had called the “Vine Street Station” (presumably the nearest station to the headquarters) and told them what had happened. Vine Street had also tried to phone precinct headquarters, and failing at that, was now radioing in to tell them that several of the policewomen on the Devereux operation had been murdered by “person or persons unknown”. There was agitation in both women’s voices but no hint that either suspected the headquarters itself was now being attacked. But Sayaka knew she had less time than she had anticipated.

------“Roger. I’ll report this to Commander Mason immediately and call you back. Out.”

That report would never be made. As Patrolwoman Hanson exited the communications room, the White Rabbit slipped her garrote around the young cop’s neck and quickly silenced her. She deposited the body on the floor of the communications room and disabled the radio. Then she headed to the station’s front desk area. She only encountered one other policewoman before reaching it, a very attractive young sandy-haired girl, not much older than herself, Xeroxing some documents in the copying room. Sayaka had no idea why the process was called “Xeroxing”. The actual Xerox Corporation had ceased to exist during the Cataclysm. But the name had somehow survived as a generic term for a variety of methods for reproducing documents. The assassin knew she had to be especially quiet with this kill. She sensed there were three policewomen in the front desk area, close enough to hear any untoward noise. Making no more noise than a shadow, she approached the woman bent over the copying machine, wrapped an arm around her throat, and snapped her neck. The woman jerked spasmodically for a short time but Sayaka had pulled her back from the copy machine to keep her from kicking it during her brief death throes. The assassin lowered the still form to the floor; smiling as she contemplated stripping her victim, placing the nude body on top of the copying machine, and pressing “Start”. She might have done that after taking care of the three women up front, if she had had the time. As it was, the dead cop girl in the copying room was at least spared that particular indignity. Drawing her pistol, the assassin peaked around the corner to assess her next three victims.

Damn! Commander Mason, the one she wanted to take alive, wasn’t there. She had intended to simply shoot two of the policewomen and capture the Commander for interrogation. But the front desk area was instead occupied by a tall, blonde, vaguely Nordic-looking lieutenant named Anders, a sergeant whose nametag Sayaka couldn’t see but who was probably the “Sergeant Waylon” that Lisa Carlisle had mentioned, and a dispatcher who, unlike the other two, appeared to be unarmed. The Commander’s office must be down the corridor that Sayaka noticed off to the left. The woman was undoubtedly close enough that she would hear the fight.

The lieutenant sat at a desk to the right, facing Sayaka but looking down at some paperwork. The sergeant at the duty desk had her back to the assassin. And the dispatcher was unarmed, still trying to get an outside line from one of the phones on her own desk. She would die last, if only by a fraction of a second. Sayaka strode nonchalantly up to the lieutenant’s desk as if she belonged there, her silenced pistol held in her left hand behind her back.

-----“Charlotte, are the phones working yet?”

The dispatcher looked up at the lieutenant, but payed no attention to the new policewoman who had just entered the room.

---------“No Ma’am. They’re still out. I don’t understand it. There’s been no storm to knock down the lines.”

-----“Right. I’m going to the radio room. Patrolwoman Haskel must have gotten through to the Vine Street station by now. Sergeant Waylon, you tell Commander Mason that… huh?”

The blonde bitch had finally noticed that this policewoman wasn’t one of hers… Her momentary look of puzzlement turned to wide eyed shock as Sayaka struck the cop’s left temple with a ridge hand strike – a dangerous technique that could hurt the striking hand if performed improperly. Sayaka didn’t perform her techniques improperly. Her hand was intact. The same could not be said for the blonde bitch’s temple. Lieutenant Ander’s eyes rolled back in their sockets and she collapsed, utterly limp. Even Sayaka couldn’t hear the lieutenant’s brief, frightened whimper or the soft thud of her body hitting the floor. They were drowned out by the harsh “cough” of her suppressed pistol as the assassin put a .40 caliber bullet through Sergeant Waylon’s right breast. She didn’t shoot the sergeant through the breast for any deliberately “kinky” reason (though it did amuse her). It was simply the right angle for the bullet to penetrate to the heart as her victim was turning to respond to the sudden noise behind her. The sergeant flopped back into her chair with a loud grunt. The assassin had already turned to place a bullet just between the breasts of the pretty brunette dispatcher. The White Rabbit’s combat reflexes had fully kicked in and her victims seemed to be jerking spasmodically and collapse in slow motion as she raced down the corridor to the Commander’s office, switching the pistol back to her right hand as she did so. Sayaka could shoot left handed better than 95% of the cops or soldiers or hired guns she had ever run into, could shoot with their best hands. Still... she was right handed rather than truly ambidextrous. She had shot with her left hand and killed the lieutenant with a right-handed ridge hand strike because the geometry of the front desk area and the positioning of her targets had made that the most natural attack.

----------“Lana, get down!”

So there was another woman in the office besides Commander Mason. As Sayaka burst through the door at the end of the hall way she saw a woman in civilian clothes, a secretary rather than a cop, ducking down behind her desk. Commander Mason – fast for a human and alerted by the sounds from the front desk – had drawn her 9mm pistol and pointed it at the entrance. By the time she pulled the trigger however, the assassin was no longer there. Sayaka had moved to her right, too fast for the cop to respond, and the bullet sailed harmlessly down the hall to make a hole in the far wall of the front desk area. As the commander tried to recover from recoil and realign the pistol – only a fraction of a second, but too long against White Rabbit – the assassin had closed the distance and sank her fist into the woman’s solar plexus. She pulled the punch so as not to kill Mason… yet. She still needed to interrogate the precinct commander. With an agonized groan, the unfortunate policewoman doubled up in pain and collapsed unconscious onto the carpet.

-------“Plea… Please don’t kill me!”

The secretary was a very attractive woman of about 25, with light brown hair and an hourglass figure. Also, her blouse was unbuttoned and the cups of her bra had been slipped down to reveal the pale flesh of her full, round breasts. It seemed the secretary was not… just… a secretary. She stared at the killer in abject terror, tears streaming down her cheeks.

-------“Please???”

The psychological link in Sayaka’s mind between sex and killing had been designed into her by the Special Projects behavioral team – not the that Sayaka minded. And she had killed so many women tonight. In particular, the recollection of her adventures with the Devereux accountant, and how she had stripped that spectacular Devereux receptionist, came to mind, along with her more recent experiences in the police locker room and shower. The assassin shot the secretary through her breast for deliberately “kinky” reasons…

But now she had to get out of there. The unsuppressed gunshot from the commander’s 9mm would have been heard outside the building - at least if anyone was awake and on the streets at that hour. That – plus the Vine Street station, which knew of the slaughter at the Devereux offices, and that the phone lines to headquarters were down, and that the radio reply they were expecting hadn’t come, might put two and two together and send a response team. Easily hoisting the unconscious policewoman, she headed back to the front desk. She stopped briefly to destroy the night’s tapes from the security cameras (even though she didn’t believe she had been caught by any of them) and to examine the duty log to see if she had got everyone, and when the cops on routine patrol beats would be returning to the station. Damn! Though not meant for incarcerating prisoners long term, the headquarters did have a small holding facility for keeping prisoners until they could be transferred to the main jail. Currently, according to the log, there were two prisoners and one cop on duty in the holding cells. Sayaka would usually have gone down and killed all three – on general principles. But the cop would have undoubtedly heard the gunshot and barricaded herself in, while trying to communicate with someone – anyone – outside. That wouldn’t stop Sayaka, but it would slow her down. That last cop and her two prisoners hadn’t seen Sayaka, some of the ordinary beat cops for this precinct would be returning soon, and she had no idea what the Vine Street cops were doing. Though it went against her instincts, she would let those three live. Picking up her sexy, unconscious prisoner again, she headed out into the night.

-"Oh good, you're awake."

The first thing Commander Mason was aware of as she regained consciousness was the pain in the pit of her stomache. What the...??? She remembered! That girl had burst into her office split seconds after she had noticed sounds of fighting, a suppressed high powered handgun, from the duty desk. She remembere trying to shoot the intruder but... how was it possible for anyone to move that fast? As the commander gradually regained her senses, she realized she was... naked... and lying on something hard - corrugated metal - with a thin layer of cloth between her and that metal floor. Where...? She was in one of the prisoner transport vans, colloquially known as a "paddy wagon"! The thin material between her and the floor was her own uniform. Her hands were tied behind her back with her own nylon stocking, and something was covering her eyes. Her own panties were her blindfold - tied in place with the other nylon! But she wasn't particularly uncomfortable... yet. Why was she still alive? How did she get here? Her thoughts were interrupted by a seductive, while simultaneously threatening, voice.

-"In case you haven't realized it, I was the one who killed Devereux and her employees. Your SWAT team was tipped off ahead of time - but they were ordered to approach with lights and sirens. Why did you order them to do that? You must have known it would give me enough warning to escape. You, or to be more precise, the one who is giving YOU YOUR orders, wanted to make sure I got away. I..."

The voice became more hard edged.

-"... AM going to find out who gave you the tipoff that I was hitting the Devereux building, and why she wanted me to get away."

Desperately, Commander Mason tried to steel herself for the pain she was sure would start momentarily. She gasped in astonishment when, instead, she felt soft, warm lips kiss her left breast while strong but gentle fingers began to fondle and knead the right. The girl was astonishingly skillful and there was something about the... smell... of her body... She realized with a start that her interrogator was nude as well, as she felt the girls muscular but sensual body rubbing against her own. In spite of her fear, and her futile attempts to resist. the police commander found herself becoming aroused.

-"You don't owe her anything, you know. It's her fault this is happening. If she hadn't forced you to do it, you wouldn't have to die in the back of this van. Tell me who she is and why she wanted me to escape."

Commander Mason let out a yelp of fear as she felt the knife edge against her soft right breast. The blade didn't even break the skin. Sayaka never stopped pleasuring the doomed woman with her fingers, mouth, and tongue. The commander's body was now desperately receptive after Sayaka's relentless teasing. The mearest gentle touch of the knife edge, and Commnader Mason's own over-stimulated imagination, did the rest. The assassin removed the knife and gently kissed the breast she had just previously threatened to slice open. Then she kissed her way down the smooth stomache and began to work between the policewoman's thighs. In total control, she brought her victim to the very brink of orgasm, and then backed off.

As the commander whimpered in desire and frustration, Sayaka heard the sound of multiple speeding cars pulling up to the precinct station. But the prisoner transport van was no longer at the station. It was in an alley two blocks away, near where Sayaka had parked the rental car. She heard car doors slam and orders being shouted. The Vine Street girls had arrived. But there attention was fixed on the precinct building and on establiching a perimeter. Having learned from what happened at the Devereux building, they were also preparing in case an attacker came at them from outside the perimeter. But Sayaka had no intention of going back. She had what she needed - now it was just a matter of getting the bitch to talk. Again she pressed the knife, ever so gently, against the policewoman's soft flesh - but this time the vaginal lips the assassin had brought to such hyper-sensitivity with her own lips and tongue. Again, the assassin didn't actually cut into the skin, just let her victim feel it in her mind.

-"Too bad. Time's up. I really hadn't wanted to do this to you, but you leave me no choice. Why you're willing to experience such pain for the woman who set you up, is beyond me."

Commander Mason's head was spinning, her willpower destroyed by combination of sexual pleasure and stark fear that Sayaka had created. Everything the girl was saying made sense. Why should she protect the woman who had put her in this position?

----------"NO!!! Don't do it! It was Dr. Fontaine! She's with Pricom - that big megacorporation! She found out... I had... some debts... I don't know how she found out about them, but she offered to help. At first it was little things. but all the time she was gathering information about me... She found out that... Pretty soon she was controlling me.

-"What about tonight?"

----------"I got a call this afternoon. She told me an assassin was going to attack the Devereux building and told me to have a SWAT team ready. But she wanted the assassin... she wahted you to get away, so she told me to have them respond Code 3. All she really wanted was a computer file marked "Special Projects - Generations". We were supposed to recover the computer and turn it over to her. The file's encrypted, she said. I was just supposed to send her the whole computer."

Sayaka thought about the notebook she had taken from Devereux's dead body. It was obviously important and the assassin hoped it would have the key to unlocking the file that Fontaine and Devereux were both so interested in.

-"Tell me about the .22 caliber killer."

----------"Who? Aghhh!!!"

Sayaka pressed the knife against the woman's most sensitive flesh again, this time just a little harder.

-"Don't lie to me! You think I'm a fool?"

----------"NOOOO!!!! PLEASE!!!! I don't know anything about a .22 caliber killer! I swear! I... please..."

"Damn! I'm pretty confident she's telling the truth." The assassin had really hoped the this police bitch would be able to shed some light on the nysterious .22 caliber assassin. But the matter was dark as ever.

-"How did Dr. Fontaine know tonight was the night?"

----------"I,,, I think she has you under some kind of surveillance. Pricom does a lot of work for the National Government - military and intelligence stuff. They have... access... to resources. And... I think she has an informer in your employer's home, too."

-"Who?"

----------"I don't know. I swear I don't!"

Damn!

----------"But I think they communicate through pay phones. I was in Dr. Fontaine's office once, in the Pricom facility in New Atlanta. She was called away, briefly. I looked around her office, trying to find something to use against her, since she was blackmailing and controlling me. I did find a list of phone numbers and was able to copy them down before she got back. Later, I traced them. There were 5 numbers that were payphones around New Atlanta, and 5 that were for payphones around Fairview Heights, in the suburbs of what used to be St. Louis."

Finally, something she could use. Millicent Blandings' home was in Fairview Heights. But it was time to wrap things up. The assassin lifted the policewoman's left leg and repositioned her own body so that the two women's bodies were "scissoring" each other. Sayaka was feeling quite arroused herself and she had decided she would let this police bitch reach climax before killing her. Commander Mason's body - nude except for the panties ties across her eyes, thrashed wildly and she was breathing in ragged gasps as the killer ground her own crotch against her victim's. Suddenly, Mason's back arched toward the roof of the van and she sobbed in utter ecstasy before collapsing nearly unconscious to the floor. She gradually became aware of the pain in her arms, which had been tied beneath her the whole time. But, lost in post-orgasmic bliss, she didn't care. As her breathing gradually resumed a normal depth and her head started to clear, she opened her mouth to speak, only to feel a soft but incredibly strong hand pressed over it. Simultaneously, she felt her captor's other hand entwine itself in the hair at the back of her head. Her eyes shot open in terror but only the white panties, now soaked with sweat, met her gaze. "NO!" She tried to scream but the hand over her mouth smothered it to a barely audible moan. "NO! You don't need to kill me! I can help you! I can..." CRACK!

Ignoring the utterly still body on the transport van floor, Sayaka calmly wiped the sweat from her own body with the woman's undershirt and skirt, and then redressed in Patrolwoman Wilkins' uniform. She had considered using the commander's uniform when she went to the hopital to destroy any evidense there, but decided that while the hospital staff wouldn't know every individual policewoman in the precinct, they might recognize the commander herself. She had, of course, left a LOT of DNA evidense on the nude body sprawled lifeless before her, and in the van's interior generally. but she wasn't going to use the solvent for this. She unscrewed the lid of a small jar into which she had earlier syphoned some gasoline from the van's tank. After splashing the gasoline around the interior - being careful not to get any on herself - she placed a white phosphorus grenade with a special long-burning fuze inside and closed the door. By the time the incendiary grenade detonated she was over ten blocks away. The explosion of course attracted the attention of the policewomen cordoning off the precinct building. But fearful of another ambush they approached it very slowly and cautiously. Sayaka was at that moment exiting her rental car in the Nashville Central Hospital parking lot. Patrolwoman Wilkins' uniform should get her into the restricted area of the morgue... except that by now word might have gotten around that the real Patrolwoman Wilkins had been found dead, her uniform missing. So the first step was to find a nurse who would... donate... her uniform to the White Rabbit.