“No kidding,” she muttered to herself. How had they tracked her down? She had been careful to stay out of sight of security cameras, and she had avoided poaching at the same location more than once. She’d used a different ATM each time she drained some rich schmoe’s bank account, hidden her face from the hidden cameras at each.
I guess if Coil himself put in some effort, he could decide that they would just happen to be in the right place at the right time to find her?
She bolted, shoving a display of sunglasses on top of the enforcer, ducking around to his right, out of his reach.
It was a miscalculation, he didn’t care about the sunglasses. He pushed the rack to the ground, hard, and closed the distance with a single long step. He had superior reach, strength. His fist swung in one fluid movement with his step forward, striking her in the stomach, just below her ribcage and off to one side.
Oof.
Future Tattle must be getting sick of people hitting her in her stomach.
Striking solar plexus; trained in martial arts, striking to inflict maximum pain, disabling-
Mission to capture alive.
Unlikely to use gun for anything but intimidation.
“Urggunnnh,” she swore, as she crumpled to the ground.
“Oh my god, oh my god, what the fuck did she do?! The merchandise!” The cashier shrieked, shrill. “I’m going to be in so much trouble, oh my god.”
Is that your concern when a guy punches a child? That she toppled a sunglass stand?
“Phone the security office after I’m gone,” the not-enforcer spoke, “My supervisor will take it out of my pay.”
Heh. Unless Coil’s people (assuming that is who these people work for) intercept the call, she’s gonna be rather confused when she finds out there’s no enforcer matching his description working in the area.
“Oh my god,” the cashier spoke, hands over her mouth, oblivious to his words.
“He-” Lisa began to speak, then grunted and choked as she was heaved up to her feet by the back of her shirt. The not-enforcer twisted the fabric of her shirt until his hand was knotted up in it, the collar tight against her throat. “He’s not…”
Honestly, even if you did get that out, I’m not sure Daniella would be able to do any good.
She gave up before going any further with her protests. It didn’t matter. Nobody would believe her. A ratty young teenager from the poor part of town, being paranoid about the cops? Nobody would step in for her, here.
That too.
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