Retaliation

raising one knee up against her back.
Something in her dizzy, oxygen-deprived brain told her that even a knife to the side wouldn’t stop him from breaking her spine, and all she could do was surprise him.
Her arm swung in a circle, smacking a handful of mud into his face.
He spluttered, letting her go as he struggled to clear his airways. It gave her enough time to draw a wheezing breath and dash away, knowing it was far from her maximum speed and the Beast was right behind her.
She led him in a circle around a building, choosing her way on pure instinct, ready to feel his hand catch one of her feet again. Something flashed before her, and she ducked, avoiding smashing her head against a piece of gleaming metal at the last moment.
A loud bang shook the air, and she whirled just in time to see the Beast plummeting down through rusty debris. His head smashed into iron and concrete, making her cringe.
Pain let out a breath, her eyes locked on the spot where the Beast had landed. A goofy smile spread across her face as she wiped off the mud. No one needs to know how he got those wounds, she thought, and descended carefully to see if the man was still alive.
Surprisingly, he hadn’t broken his neck in the fall, and only one of his legs stuck out at an awkward angle. His face was a bloody mess, and his pulse was weak, but she couldn’t take him to headquarters just yet.
She grabbed his belt and rose into the air, returning to the manhole. The ridiculous fight had left her winded, and she had just enough energy to inspect the warehouse and return home with the big Beast in tow.
After a short trip through a narrow tunnel, it wasn’t a problem to find a piece of rope inside and tie up the man’s hands and feet. She didn’t spare the broken leg but did make sure he wouldn’t suffocate, leaving him in a proper position on the floor.
Finally, she was able to look around.
The place looked like a scene from some post-apocalyptic movie. It wasn’t in disarray that an armed attack would cause; no, it was absolutely fine in a way that suggested that whoever lived here had suddenly disappeared into thin air, leaving only small traces of their activities.
She moved slowly through the empty beds and to the table covered in half-eaten meals. There someone had been holding a mug of water before they collapsed, sending the mug rolling under a bed. The concrete floor was still wet, so it must have been no more than a half-hour since the attack.
One more step, and she could see where someone had moved the table a little when they grabbed it for support, and a plate lay on the floor a few feet away. It hadn’t been an ordinary attack, and the Beasts hadn’t even put up a fight. There didn’t seem to be a trace of any gas in the air, either. Whoever it was, they had come prepared.
They had also managed to do what the Ghosts hadn’t managed for years—track down the Devil’s Whores’ base. At least, that had been her guess when she saw the familiar-looking man hurrying across the city. Now that she’d seen the Devil tattoo on his neck, she knew she’d been right.
What was even worse, no personal items could be found on the beds. They must have some other place for their things, and the rest they carried on themselves. Or, she thought, someone had cleaned up after themselves, making sure no one had dropped their cell phone at the crime scene.
She kicked a chair in frustration and called Rooney, asking him to send the forensic team and backup to her location.
Then she grabbed the Beast by the belt once again. Peter will be pleased, she thought as she dragged the beaten-up thug back to the tunnel. Just wait until tomorrow.
*  *  *
“What the hell is wrong with you??” Peter yelled, bolting to his feet. “What were you thinking? I thought you were sneaky about it! You don’t know one thing about them, and you take one of them on your own? Do you even realize the danger you’ve put yourself in?”
Pain kept her mouth shut tight, her back pressed into the chair, as if it could help her get farther away from him. Maybe fluffing up the fight wasn’t a good idea.
Peter paced back and forth, and everyone kept silent, either shocked or not willing to interfere. He raised a hand to his head and opened his mouth to spill another string of accusations, but she interrupted him.
“Okay, just stop right there.” She held out a hand. “I told you, I didn’t have a choice. He would’ve left, and there was no time for backup.”
“And to hell with him!” Peter snarled. “It was never your job to capture him in the first place.” He pressed a hand to his face, letting out a ragged sigh.
Pain put on a neutral face, giving up the argument. After a few deep breaths, Peter switched back to the problem at hand. Yelling at her in between discussing important matters was practically a habit.
“What did the forensic report say?”
“It’s not ready yet. They’ll bring it straight to you,” she replied, trying to keep resentment out of her voice.
“All right… Okay, good. Skull, I want you to question the Beast and find out how to make him cooperate. We need to know everything he knows. If we have to make a peace treaty with the Devil’s Whores for the time being, so be it.”
“What?” It was Pain’s turn to jump to her feet, while the others stared at Peter in bewilderment.
“Sit down,” he commanded, and she obeyed. “One enemy at a time. If he thinks we will