Cat Hunt

An anonymous tip came in for Eevi sometime after her recovery in Naarajärvi. Although Eevi Väinölä was chiefly an assassin rather than a bounty hunter, the offer on this contract was lucrative. The native Tutsi survivor turned Somali crime lord had someone he wanted killed or captured, and he had the equipment to make it happen. But he and his ilk were too easily recognized by his quarry.

Mexico was one of the more openly corrupt countries in the New World, with drug cartels, human traffickers, corrupt politicians everywhere. In some cities, you would even find the corpses of bystanders being hung on overpasses. There were even corrupt officials in the US government that turned a blind eye to these, complicit with corrupt Mexican politicians and their cartel benefactors. And while the city of Cancún was relatively safe, it was far from untouchable by criminal elements - it was, in fact, about as dangerous as Las Vegas.

The crime lord's quarry was native African Nawi, who sometimes moonlit in the nighttime as the elusive Bloodfang. In Cancún, Mexico, Nawi was hoping to drum up support for the Continental African Modernization Movement she was a part of. The stated goal was to drag Africa into the civilized world through increased trade with the West - kicking and screaming, if need be. Nawi herself seemed to go along with this even though she had doubts that things would work out, if for no other reason than to stamp out the slave trade in Africa under a monarchical government structure.

Enter Rajabu Bakari; Nawi's former slave master. Her owner and possessor, come to find someone who would bring him back his best fighter.

His Scarlet Reaper...

Unlike Nawi, Rajabu loved democracy. Democracies inevitably led to bureaucracies - and bureaucracies could be bribed to look the other way on anything. Hence, how he managed to get into the country with no questions asked. Hence, how Chad, Nigeria, and a dozen other African nations still had a fully-thriving slave trade. It drew less attention to bribe a bureaucrat than to bribe an absolute monarch.

The contract payment was being offered in gold bullion - one hundred thousand in US dollars - at a minimum. But to sweeten the pot, the reward would be quintupled if Nawi was brought to Rajabu alive. That was sure to catch Eevi's attention and appeal to her greed long enough to get her to actually catch the target alive.

You will be mine again, my Scarlet Reaper... Rajabu thought. And you will do what you're told when you are...

The offer was too tempting for Eevi to pass up. Anonymous or not, the details of the contract ticked all the boxes for a payday she couldn’t ignore. One hundred thousand was already a good deal, but quintuple that for a live capture? It was almost impossible to turn down, even for someone like her who wasn’t primarily a bounty hunter.

What caught her attention was the gold, the weight of the bullion that would make her life easier, at least for a while. The emotional and political aspects of the job didn’t matter. The only thing she needed to know was where her target was, how to get her, and how to make sure Nawi survived long enough to be handed over for that sweetened reward.

Cancún wasn’t the worst place she had worked, but she’d have to be careful. Despite its corruption, there were enough tourists and civilians around to complicate things. She’d need to move quietly, stay under the radar, and get the job done before anyone even knew she was there. She was good at that, at disappearing into the shadows, striking with precision.

The first step was finding this "Nawi". The information she had been given said Nawi was using her time in Cancún to drum up support for the Continental African Modernization Movement, an initiative Eevi didn’t care to understand. All that mattered was that her target was involved, and Eevi’s role was to stop her. Or, at least, capture her.

It wouldn’t be easy, but Eevi had never expected it to be. A woman like Nawi, someone used to surviving under brutal conditions, wouldn’t go down without a fight. She would be wary, alert, always watching her back. But Eevi was a professional. She had tracked down harder prey before and lived to tell the tale.

As she packed her gear, her wounds fully healed after her escapades in Finland, Eevi thought about how best to approach this job. Subtlety was key. Nawi didn’t need to die, after all. If Eevi could incapacitate her and drag her back to Rajabu alive, that would mean an even bigger payday.

While she packed, her mind flickered briefly to Taavi and Naarajärvi. The quiet life she had been living there, the strange sense of contentment she had felt for a fleeting moment. But that was gone now, pushed aside by the thrill of a new job and the promise of gold. She was a professional, and this was her calling. Naarajärvi would benefit from this too after all.

Cancún was calling, and Eevi was ready to answer.

She boarded the next flight, eyes already scanning the details of the job on her phone, her mind fully focused on the task ahead.

Information about Nawi was basic, including her capabilities when she was last seen: from her strength and speed being at least triple the human norm, and her reflexes estimated to be around 50 milliseconds when at rest and believed to be even faster under combat stress. Her digits were topped with claws that could rend flesh even easier than a surgical scalpel, and she had fangs that could easily tear the jugular out. Nawi had gained the ring name of "Scarlet Reaper" for coming away from duels with her claws covered in blood.

It's estimated that she could easily reach a running speed of 34 to 38 miles per hour if she got out on open terrain. Her olfactory and auditory systems were greatly bolstered; in layman's terms, she had an extremely keen sense of smell and hearing. Her vision was also more acute, allowing for far better night vision than a normal human - but this could work to Eevi's advantage if she could secure flash grenades on the black market.

She was going to stay at a local hotel and give her lectures on African history and the endurance of the modern slave trade at the Haven Riviera - the local convention center - over the course of her three-day stay.

This last part was unconfirmed, but rumors of a vigilante that roams between countries had begun circulating several years since Nawi's initial escape. Those that were struck reportedly had injuries consistent with super strength, bite wounds, and claw marks. The attacks were always under cover of night, so no description could be provided about the attacker, but there was a name: Bloodfang. It wouldn't be a stretch to put two and two together and figure that wherever Nawi was, Bloodfang was also.

Provided that Eevi could confirm that Bloodfang and Nawi were indeed the same person, a nighttime hunt could prove a wise course of action in bringing Nawi in. A method of exploiting Nawi's increased sensitivity to bright light in dark areas could work in Eevi's favor.

The picture that accompanied this information that Eevi was given to work with was that of a disheveled Nawi with her long magenta hair in a stringy mess around her, her gold eyes looked at the photo taker and her slit pupils were dilated with killing intent, the local light reflecting off the back of her retinas. Were Eevi to guess, the bruises in the picture were caused by hand.

There was also a set of longitudinal and latitudinal coordinates pointing to a smaller outlying town. Presumably, it was the meeting point with the client - and if Eevi was set on bringing Nawi in alive, that would be the best place to start. The client likely had a few gadgets that may prove helpful for suppressing Nawi's abilities to make her easier to haul in.

Eevi studied the information in front of her with a cold, detached focus. Nawi—or Bloodfang—wouldn’t be an easy target. From the enhanced reflexes, the heightened senses, and the sheer physical power described, it was clear this wouldn’t be a straightforward hunt. But Eevi had never been one to back down from a challenge. In fact, it was precisely these kinds of high-risk jobs that kept her sharp, that kept her alive.

She took in the image of Nawi, her predatory gaze, the bruises, the bloodlust in her eyes. This wasn’t going to be a fight she could win through sheer force; she needed strategy, precision, and patience. Flash grenades were a definite must—Nawi’s acute senses were a weakness Eevi could exploit, and securing some on the black market would be her first order of business.

Eevi leaned back in her chair, her fingers absentmindedly tapping on the table as she considered her options. The convention center provided a clear opportunity; Nawi would be stationary, surrounded by people, giving Eevi plenty of chances to observe her in action. But she’d need to keep a low profile—no drawing attention, no slipping up. A single misstep could alert Nawi, and if the rumors about Bloodfang were true, confronting her directly would be suicide without the right preparation.

The coordinates for the meeting with the client caught her attention next. It was clear from the description that whoever had put the bounty on Nawi was well-connected, possibly armed with tech that could tip the scales in her favor. Eevi had dealt with clients like this before, always preferring to stay in the shadows, but sometimes working with them provided necessary tools.

It was a risk, but one she’d take.

With a sigh, Eevi folded the papers and slipped them into her jacket. The night would be her ally in this hunt, and if Nawi was indeed Bloodfang, there was no better time to track a predator than when they were hunting, too. And if Eevi played her cards right, she'd have Nawi in chains before dawn broke.

Time to get to work.

First, she'd make her way to the coordinates, meet with the client, and see what gadgets they could offer. After that, she'd start scouting the hotel where Nawi was staying, blending into the background like the shadow she had always been.

At the coordinates specified, Rajabu Bakari awaited the assassin Inkwell. The native African man was tall, well-built, with a shaved head and chiseled features. He sported a large claw scar across this throat - a little something Nawi left him to remember her by. That being said, he was certain she didn't expect him to survive. He almost didn't - were it not for the healing Meta he also kept in chains, he would have bled out. And although Rajabu was able to think tactically and was rather clever due to his long life within the criminal underworld, he was not a particularly intelligent individual.

A creature of habit, Rajabu was quite used to outsourcing his jobs to other people. And to date, he paid well enough to not be backstabbed by those he hired. He recognized Inkwell immediately based on her appearance. There weren't a lot of Scandinavians in Mexico, after all. He looked up to her. A brief lustful look arrived in his eyes, but it went away as quickly as it came.

"Good, you're here," he said, with his thick Rwandan accent. "The name is Rajabu. Never mind the scars. They were a parting gift your target left me years ago."

Escorting Inkwell into the makeshift hideout, he had a few small boxes of gadgets. Several grenades, from flash to frag, binoculars for scouting, a few harnesses for cloaking, and a few collars. The cloaking harnesses were nowhere near as advanced as the one that Eevi encountered in use by Thorn back then. The shimmer from it bending light would be more obvious, and since it wasn't powered by a nuclear battery, the duration would be rather short - it would be recommended to use this wisely in dark or dimly-lit areas.

"She was one of the best ring fighters I had back in the day, and made for rather lovely company when not in the ring," Rajabu said. "But you're not here to hear me reminisce about the past. You're here for bounty details. Let me skip the pleasantries. Your target is an advocate for the Continental African Modernization Movement - some movement that seeks to bring more jobs to Africa, raise the standard of living, and increase law and order through trade relations with the West. But I expect you're uninterested in the politics. Your target's name is 'Nawi' - last name unknown - probably from one of the older isolated tribes back in Africa. You're to bring her to me. Preferably alive...but dead is acceptable."

He showed a single gold bar from a pouch on a nearby table, saying, "You'll be paid in these. What I have set aside for a completed job is appraised at around a hundred thousand in US dollars. I'll have to keep the rest if she's brought in dead - Meta as pit fighters don't come cheap, after all. Bring her in alive, and it's five hundred thousand, instead. The gear I have here should be good for that purpose - flash grenades, night optics, a few cloaking harnesses, and - most important - a power-suppressing  collar that you should get around her neck if you can. Don't ask where I got that from."

There was a lustful, almost predatory look, in Rajabu's eyes any time he mentioned Nawi.

She had seen men like him countless times before, each one thinking they could push their boundaries just enough to see what they could get away with. She wasn’t one to play that game, not here, not anywhere.

She leaned over the table, glancing at the gold bar for a moment before returning her gaze to the assortment of gear. The mission itself was straightforward—capture the target, alive preferably, dead if necessary. The reward for live capture was hefty, a small fortune in gold, but she could see the personal interest Rajabu had in Nawi. That always complicated things.

"I don't care about your past, or your personal attachment to her," she continued, her voice measured, calm. "I’m here for the job, nothing else. You want her back, done. Simple and plain as that. If she’s as dangerous as you say, I’ll need everything you’ve got here though to tilt the scales." She reached for the cloaking harness, inspecting it briefly. It wasn't perfect, but in the darkness, it might just be enough to give her the edge. The flash grenades, too, could exploit Nawi's heightened senses.

"These will do," she murmured, nodding as she collected what she needed.

She glanced back at Rajabu, her expression unreadable. While he may have been a creature of habit, she wasn’t about to assume he’d laid out all the cards on the table. Men like him always held back something. Always. And it was better to get ahead of that now before stepping into what was sure to be a dangerous hunt.

The fact that Nawi had left him with those scars meant she was no ordinary target. Eevi had no illusions about the difficulty of the task ahead, but she wasn't the kind to shy away from violence either.

Rajabu's thinly veiled admiration, the lust that flickered briefly in his eyes, was met with indifference. She had seen it too many times before—men who thought they could size her up and mistake her for something weaker, someone who could be bought or distracted by charm. She had no illusions about what this man represented, or the dark business he dealt in. They were both monsters of a sort, but Eevi held no respect for him.

“Alive or dead,” she repeated his terms, her voice flat, emotionless. “If she’s the one I think she is, that depends entirely on how she plays this.” She picked up the collar, turning it over in her hands, before meeting Rajabu’s eyes again.

“I’ll need this in working order when the time comes. No screw-ups. I don't like being disappointed.”

Slipping the collar back onto the table, Eevi's mind already raced ahead to her plan. Nawi sounded dangerous, more so than most she had hunted recently. That didn’t bother her; in fact, it intrigued her. If she could bring Nawi in alive, the payout would be enough to ensure a long period of freedom.

But freedom was never cheap.

"If there's nothing else," she added, her voice hardening, "I'll get to work. I don't plan on staying in Mexico any longer than I need to."

She reached for one of the flash grenades and a pair of night optics. “I’ll start tonight,” she said simply, strapping the gear onto her belt. “Show me where she is staying? Anything else I need to know? Something you're not telling me? I don’t like surprises."

"The collar was tested on one of my other Meta; a healer. It will do its job. One extra detail you ought to know. I'll need to torch or sell off whatever gear you don't take and move to another safe house further north in case the authorities come sniffing around. As for Nawi...she has a habit of wearing gloves in public to conceal her claws, and she wears longer dresses in order to conceal her tail; if you have a keen eye on a side profile, you may be able to pick it out through her clothing," Rajabu said.

Rajabu concealed his anticipation well, and used Eevi looking through the gear to distract from his thoughts. She appraised each piece of gear carefully, seeming to know which was which by sight alone without having to operate anything. Methodical and thorough, as her reputation suggested.

"You're thorough - I appreciate a keen eye. Last the boys I paid off saw, she's going to stay at the Royal Solaris Cancun - both it and the convention center are fairly close to the airport," Rajabu said. "The hotel has a nice beachfront view - a half-hour's drive from the convention center. The boys couldn't find out the exact room, but they believe her to have taken one on the second floor, facing the beach. I'd send my own to do the work, but she already has their scents memorized. She cut and run from Saint Martin when she caught a whiff. But here's a bit more of a tip - it's not just her sight that you can hinder. Get her in a busy part of town and her ears will need more time to cut through the noise. Get her in a spot where there's a lot of clashing scents, and she'll find it harder to pin yours down unless you're in swiping distance."

"I'll be near Laguna Del Amor when you've finished," he concluded. "Make sure you have what you need before heading out - I'll be disposing of the rest of this one way or another.



Every so often, Nawi did things that reminded her that the Great Panther's essence and instincts flowed through her. Whether it was sleeping in the nude or stretching chest-first toward the ground, she was often doing something that was affiliated with cats. In the privacy of her hotel, where she didn't need to worry about public appearances, she sat on the floor in a manner reminiscent of cats, as well. Her intelligence was within the "intellectually gifted" category.

Anyone who talked to Nawi for more than five minutes would immediately note that she didn't mince words and was exceedingly blunt in conversation. It must come from whatever Dutch introduced itself along her ancestry. She was surprisingly easy to get along with, provided you did two things: be polite, and don't be an idiot. And this ruled out a sizable amount of the Western world.

Mexico was a nice place as long as you could book one of the safer towns. Nawi hoped she could get a good turnout; this wasn't Mexico City or Ciudad Juarez. Cancún had a major airport, but it was hardly centralized. She worried that she wouldn't reach the politicians that really mattered...not that she cared much for politicians, in general. And one of the things that were worse than politicians were bureaucrats - and they always popped up in democracies.

She could argue the merits and drawbacks of monarchism all day, but what she knew was that a king could not let the amount of corruption in Mexico get as out of control as it was and hope not to get hung by his own citizens. Monarchs had actual incentive to do right by their populace - just ask Louis XVI. Elected politicians...they had no such incentive. All they needed to do was pay lips-service to the masses, and the ignorant public would keep on electing them - just ask...literally any United States senator.

As for Nawi herself, she spent three months laid up in recovery after the attack on Arisawa Heavy Industries in Japan. Some merc named "Revenant", after cutting his losses with the attempted heist on Arisawa's power armor schematics, had tried to take her in. He may have failed to take her, but not for lack of trying. He did quite a number on her; broken bones, lacerations, shrapnel that had to be dug out. She had nearly gone stir-crazy in the process of recovery. Frankly, it was thanks to Jacob Mercer that she managed to survive at all.

It was during this fight that Nawi had learned that Rajabu Bakari was still alive, and he was keen on taking her back. Nawi had been in such a hurry during her initial escape that she didn't take time to make sure he bled out. She wouldn't make that mistake again if she found him. The thought that that piece of human filth who owned her, forced her to fight, and forced himself on her was still alive caused her to hiss in anger.

Shaking away other thoughts for a second, she took in the scent of sea salt being carried from the beach, which rapidly calmed her down. The sea was one of those things she loved. In contrast to the imagery of most cats, Nawi actually loved getting into water. If she wasn't trying to keep both of her identities separate, she would be on the waves right now with her tail trailing behind her. Alas, it was not to be.

Getting showered up, Nawi got her underwear on and over that, put on a rather simple and traditional flax dress with a rather high neckline. It was just loose enough on the waist to where she could wrap her tail around her waist with few people being the wiser. She set some gloves over her hands - she wished that she could retract her claws the same way a cat could.

She was here for a reason. She may as well get it done.

Eevi silently listened as Rajabu droned on about the details. Her amber eyes, cold and calculating, scanned over the gear one final time. The weight of each piece in her hands, the feel of it — it was familiar, comforting in a way. Like slipping back into the rhythm of an old dance. The flash grenades would be useful, given what she knew of Nawi's heightened senses, and the collar... well, that would be the clincher if she managed to get close enough.

The mention of Nawi’s disguises, the gloves to hide claws, the tail tucked beneath the dress, made Eevi smirk slightly. Clever, but not clever enough. Everyone had tells, no matter how much they tried to hide. Nawi wouldn’t be an exception.

Rajabu’s tone shifted when he mentioned the hotel, the setup sounding like a job Eevi had done a hundred times before. His predatory gaze lingered a second too long, and it made Eevi’s skin crawl.

"I don't need the background noise," Eevi interrupted flatly, not lifting her gaze from the gear. "Just keep yourself out of the way. I'll handle the rest."

The mission was straightforward. Locate Nawi, capture her alive if possible, and if not, well... the collar wasn’t necessary for a corpse. Eevi had dealt with heightened senses before. She could use the crowd, the noise, and the scents to her advantage. Nawi might be strong, fast, and skilled, but Eevi... Eevi was a ghost, and she'd haunt Nawi until she got what she came for.

"I’ll be back before you’re even halfway to that safe house," she muttered, pocketing a few of the items.

With that, she turned and left Rajabu without another word, making her way toward the Royal Solaris Cancun. As she walked, the mission took shape in her mind — she’d start with the hotel. Scouting the location, figuring out the best entry points, exits, and where she could trap Nawi. And then, once Nawi was cornered, Eevi would finish what Rajabu had started all those years ago.

At the very least, she told herself, this would be clean. Efficient. There was no need to let any more anger than necessary bubble to the surface.

Going for the rental car she had gotten from near the airport, Nawi started making her way to the convention center. Following the Punta Nizuc - Cancún to highway 307 southbound, Nawi endured the scents in the air as she made her way to the convention center. She hated particularly large cities, and the further she got, the more comfortable she felt. The smells were hard on her nose within large metropolitan areas.

Eventually, she got off the southbound and went southeast on the side streets. Eventually, she reached Haven Riviera Cancún, where she was scheduled to speak. Her Spanish was fluent enough for casual conversation, but her English was substantially better. Both were second-fiddle to her native Swahili. But as the international trade language, she suspected the activists and politicians would be familiar enough with English for her to get her point across.

She checked in as one of the convention speakers and was ushered over to the hall. Her turnout consisted of eighty, maybe even eighty-five, people, and she looked to the audience and noted where her place on the queue was. She was fifth in the speaking order. Most speakers were scheduled to address crime, internal corruption, and the drug cartels. Honestly, Nawi didn't expect the speech to count for much, given some of the scents she picked up. Several people in here smelled of marijuana, cocaine, tobacco, and a combination of drug cocktails that blended together.

In short, there were enough drugs in the air to suggest that a good number of the bureaucrats and politicians here were on the take. Nawi suspected that her message may resonate with some of the more common folk here, but none of the people that changed policy. Three and a half hours passed by as the speakers took their turns, and Nawi was hungry, but she had trouble finding food that wasn't spicy. She eventually settled on the mildest thing she could find. And even that was nearly too much.

When she was called up, Nawi had an entire folder with the raw statistics of known instances of slavery in Africa, the Middle East, East Asia, and the Americas. Of course, they don't call it the "slave trade" in the Americas - the euphemism was "human trafficking". She opened up with the powerful message that told everyone that she meant business.

"The blight on humanity that refuses to die: slavery," she started. "With it made illegal in most of the civilized world, the slave trade is smaller - but far more lucrative - than it has ever been before. This goes double in the Western world, where the slave trade is not even called such anymore - it is, for better and worse - called 'human trafficking'. And though it's come down since this century's current peak nearly a decade ago, it remains as profitable - if not more so - than the illicit drug trade. One of the biggest factors is bloated and corrupt bureaucracy, and I have the numbers - both from this nation and back in my native land - to prove it all."

Against the expectations of the more youthful members of the audience, she didn't actually blame European colonization of centuries past. If anything, Nawi's take on such was balanced and nuanced, acknowledging the harm it had caused while emphasizing that there were benefits to parts where European colonization of both Africa and the New World took place. By and large, by the time of the 19th century, Nawi observed that it was precisely because of European intervention that - for much of her native land - the slave trade had largely died out.

For many of the tribes, slavery became a part of the customs and traditions long before Europeans had ever set foot on African soil - customs that brought harm in the long term. She stressed that more trade and connection with humanitarian organizations in the West was needed to burn the slave trade to being little more than a footnote in Africa's history. That it required more - not less - ties with Westernized countries. Granted, this may have been her bias - one born of having been a victim of such slavery - talking.

She stopped just shy of saying democracy allowed slavery - including the invisible slave trade in the West - to continue, especially by failing to hold politicians accountable. She did, however, point to bureaucratic bloat and corruption as a major problem. And her opinion was that downsizing the bureaucracy in Western countries, along with regular monitoring of cash flows to those bureaucracies would be a small, but important start not only to addressing the human trafficking offenses, but also to making sure social welfare programs could be delivered more promptly and with less waste.

The audience was largely silent during her nearly hour-long lecture, but several of them gave off tells that told her she had called them out - likely bureaucrats and corrupt politicians. Nawi knew she was going to have to skip town in a few days, but at least she spent long enough to catch a whiff of everyone's scents. If they came for her, or someone they've touched came for her, she'd notice.

Soon after concluding, Nawi hydrated up before leaving the convention hall to go back to her rented car. The sooner she got back to the hotel, the sooner she could pack up and leave...after a nighttime hunt, of course.

Eevi had slipped into the convention center hours ago, mingling with the small crowd and blending into the background as she watched the speakers, all the while keeping her eyes on her target: Nawi. She had her hood drawn up, face shadowed as she scanned the room for anything useful. The smell of drugs and tobacco filled the air, along with the musky scent of sweat from nervous bureaucrats and politicians. This whole scene disgusted her.

"Corrupt parasites..." she muttered under her breath, watching Nawi step up to the podium.

Nawi’s speech began, the woman's voice echoing with passion and purpose. Eevi listened carefully, her amber eyes narrowing as she processed the words. Nawi wasn't wrong about the slavery issue, or the corruption choking the world’s governments. But that didn’t matter to her. Eevi wasn’t here to debate morality or politics. She was here for a job.

Her mind drifted as the speech continued, recalling the information Rajabu had given her: the gloves, the concealed tail, the heightened senses. She mentally prepared her approach, knowing that Nawi’s strength and speed would be a challenge. This wasn’t going to be a simple hit-and-run. No, this required precision and strategy. Nawi’s sensory abilities were dangerous, but in a busy convention center like this, the distractions could be used to Eevi’s advantage.

By the time Nawi’s speech ended, Eevi had already scoped out the exits. The crowd began to disperse, and Eevi melted into the flow of people, always keeping Nawi in her peripheral vision. She could feel the tension in her muscles, the cold focus settling in.

Nawi had made her way out of the building and was heading for her rental car. Eevi stayed several paces behind, moving through the shadows as naturally as she breathed. Her hand brushed against one of the flash grenades she had hidden under her coat.

"Just a matter of time..." she whispered to herself, her gaze locked on Nawi. She just needed the right moment, the right distraction. And then it would all be over.

For now, she remained patient, hailing a cab of her own to head back to the hotel.

A seemingly nondescript person heard a beep from his pocket, retrieving a pager that had registered a call was being made to him. Himself and a few other inside men of the hotel occasionally kept tabs on guests that stayed here; usually foreign dignitaries and activists. Pagers are almost never used anymore, so whenever they do go off, something serious needed doing. Instructions came through on the burner phone he used, a name came up, and the hotel worker cross-referenced the name with the hotel's guest list: Nawi.

An activist with the Continental African Modernization Movement, she really must have hit a nerve somewhere if someone is paging them to eliminate her with a promise of increased pay. The shirt the man and his accomplices wore were oversized to allow for easy concealment of weapons, and they all resumed duties as normal hotel staff to blend in. They had seen Nawi a number of times, and they knew she left with her rental car - a red Kia - for destinations unknown.

Their insider in security would make sure the cameras on the second floor were blind, then, when she was preoccupied in the hotel room, they would come in and move her, nice and easy. They could just stab her in her hotel room, but the blood left behind would tip off whoever came looking. No, they'd have to knock her out and restrain her before moving her under cover of darkness to a nearby pier. Whether they decided to stab her on the boat or simply leave her tied to a slab of concrete, her body would be sitting at the bottom of the Gulf of Mexico before the night was up.

The sun had been setting when Nawi arrived, and their man at the front made note of her. So far as Eevi would be able to tell, starting here would mean at least four witnesses before counting the security cameras. Unknown to either her or Nawi, however, the second floor security feeds were deactivated, and the audio for all floors was not being recorded. The smell of the sea and nearby cars meant that, at first, Nawi could not make out the smell of gun oil and propellant.

After a half-hour in her room, however, Nawi began to recall her eyes and ears catching some things that her nose missed. There were at least two hotel staff keeping a watch on her, and they were wearing shirts far too big for their bodies that they had to tuck them in. She could swear that she had heard something rustling around under the shirts; something metallic. These events kept in mind, she didn't just shrug off the sound of a towel cart outside when she heard them. Stripped down to lingerie, Nawi looked up to the high ceiling of her room and jumped up, using her arms and legs to hold her in place.

Outside, one of the "staff" made a nod to one of the security cameras on the second floor, as if signaling for something. With the cameras off, one pulled out a suppressed pistol to keep guard outside while another used a spare card key to enter the room. The faint sweet smell of chloroform reached Nawi's nose; something that slavers used in order to drug her back in Africa several times. This far away, the vapor was not having an effect on her; even so, she held her breath when the door opened and then closed behind one of the hotel staff, carrying a cloth that must have been doused in the stuff.

An ambush predator, Nawi waited until he made it a good way in before silently dropping down behind him, the worker's body language confused as to why his quarry wasn't here. That was, at least, until Nawi began to strangle him from behind, intending to question him. However, he had the awareness to knock something that would raise an alert into the wall, drawing his fellow "employee's" attentions.

Attention now drawn, the guard began to open the door to Nawi's hotel room, back turned to wherever Eevi may have been hiding.