It had begun by spotting the glint of yellow.

Sarah thought she had caught flashes here and there as she got ready for the day, but couldn’t be sure until she started brushing her hair. As she combed her hair back, the gold line showed clear against her otherwise ruddy hair.

Furrowing her brow, she bent over the sink and pressed closer to the bathroom mirror. There was a single shiny strand, but peering deep into her scalp’s reflection revealed the roots around it were also showing their true color. Taking a deep breath through her nose, she made a mental note to deal with dyeing when she got home tonight and stepped out of the bathroom.

“Usually takes longer,” she grumbled to herself while pulling a yogurt and a medium-sized container from the fridge. Adding a glass to her hands, she balanced her breakfast over to the table and poured some cold-brew.

Taking a seat, she checked her phone. Her thumbs, almost on instinct, went to click on a news app, but her eyes went to the phone and text icons. Texts had come while Sarah had been at work. It had been a rush the other day with several clients coming in with new issues. Worse, she had hit a barrier on a major job, but had run out of time before the night shift took over. As much as she felt she was on the cusp of a breakthrough, without approval from her unit chief, she was not getting more overtime.

To deal with her frustration, Sarah had gone straight to the range. That was when a call had come in. Sarah, still trying to shake off work, had grabbed some pizza after emptying several clips into targets, read, showered, and gone to bed, all without checking her phone.

Looking at the senders’ names, she blinked and pondered if there was something wrong with her phone. Since it was early and knowing how one of the senders could be, Sarah chose to read the texts first.

[Hey! I know technically the reunion deadline RSVP was last week but I may or may not be offering a good-friend-I-haven’t-seen-in-person-in-forever extension!]

[Totally non-biased offer as Alumni Director]

[Feel free to send a text over if you can make it! Or maybe show up as a surprise! :)]

Sarah felt Diane’s excitement even through the texts. The girl appeared to have the same boundless energy as from high school.

Without replying to the text, Sarah switched over to her voicemails, certain the message awaiting her would not be too hard on her ears for this time of day.

“Hello, Sarah? Oh, sorry, it’s been a while since I’ve left a message,” came Felicia’s voice. It had lost its stutter some years back but was still soft enough that Sarah could hear the creak of a chair in the background. “I hope you’re doing well. It was nice having coffee with you around Thanksgiving. Um, anyway, I’ve been helping Diane with this year’s reunion and I noticed a lot of people I was close with are coming except, well, you.

Felicia’s tone quickened. “I understand if you’re busy like our fifth anniversary… but I’d still really like to see you with everyone else again. If you want, I can give Diane a call to get you RSVP’d. I hope you’re well and that we can all meet up again.”

Sarah imagined Felicia with heat rising off her face ending the call there and finally catching her breath. The image perked up her lips, but as she reflected on the content of the message, her face reverted to a neutral look bordering on pensive.

She stared at her phone for a while and ran a hand through her hair. Her fingers pressed against where she was sure there was the yellow strand. She glanced out her apartment’s window. A ruby crown heralded dawn. The first slivers of sunlight touched the distant snowy fields and glinted off a few buildings.

Wreathed in twilight, Sarah gave her phone a few taps.

[Put me down] she wrote to Diane.

To Felicia she wrote, [I’ll see you there, Fel]

~~~

Stepping into her building’s lobby, Sarah thought over and over again about her schedule. From her apartment, to the train, and to the office, she had run over both what she had to do personally and what demands work had for her. Personal was easy: just cancel a few of her HIIT classes, reorganize when she would go to the range, and order a little more take-out than usual.

Work did not immediately set off any alarms but she could not confirm anything until she punched in.

Reaching the front desk, she pulled out her key card and her phone. In one practiced motion, the receptionist scanned the card and slipped the phone from Sarah’s grasp. Where it went, Sarah was not privy to know, but a few years of subtle and carefully placed taps had assured Sarah her phone was somewhere secure.

As much as she had kicked herself on the way to work for her decision and it setting her morning off-kilter, it was preferable to the alternative. Not being able to access her phone to send the confirmation would have distracted her all day. It also likely would have led to more calls and texts too. It was not hard for Sarah to imagine that Diane and possibly Felecia would have discussed Sarah attending the reunion with others.

Getting into an elevator, she scanned her card and then pressed a button. Then, she jabbed another, a third, and a fourth. Finally, she prodded the emergency button and held her thumb on it until a ping rang through the elevator.

She ascended to her floor and made her way down the hallway. There were several doors to her right and left but no nameplates or signs adorned them. The same was true for the door she grasped the handle of, though she could see the faintest bit of light through the frosted glass.

Making her way past an empty waiting area, Sarah stepped into the main hub. A man whose shaved head emphasized his creased brow looked up from the machine he was fiddling with on the counter.

“Oi, Sarah. Coffee machine’s giving me trouble, so it may be a bit before anyone has a fresh cup.”

“Meaning you tried to install a new security feature. Has anyone ever even gotten past the elevator?”

“There was that wayward deliverywoman… still wondering how the front desk didn’t stop her” Roger gave a coffee machine a tug with a wretch. Steam burst out of it inches from Roger’s face. Metallic spheres spilled out from the side of the machine but with one big hand, Roger stopped them from clattering to the ground. He continued working away, appearing unaffected by the device nearly scalding half his head.

“I’d rather not leave our final line of defense to something that’s never made anything better than a passing espresso.”

That got Roger to pause. He turned and wagged a finger at her. “Now you’re just being rude.”

“So, I’m guessing if you’re tinkering, night shift drained our supplies?”

“Mmm-hmmm.” Roger nodded. “Chief went to get a restock.”

“I hope it was worth it.”

“Not until they brought in our early bird.” Roger tilted her head to the middle of the room. Inky hair with a few licks going off in several directions poked out from behind one of the computers that rested on the large shared-space table.

“How close are we now to locating the target?”

Roger stopped tinkering with the machine and looked straight at Sarah. “We’re down to two zip codes now.”

Sarah flexed her right hand, cracking the knuckles. “Then I’ll help with the final push. Get ready to mobilize.”

She moved past Roger, who did not return to the machine but instead disappeared into one of the side offices. Muted sounds of drills, scrapping, and hammering drifted into the main hub.

Sarah advanced to the other figure in the hub. Stacks of papers, disks, and USB sticks were spread around the computer. A drone was also plugged in. Hands deftly moved through all of this without disturbing a thing unless it was inserted or removed from the PC. Eyes already showing signs of bags stared through a pair of glasses and darted around the various maps, videos, and pictures that filled the screen.

The woman at the computer did not react as Sarah approached. Given where things stood and how the day might play out, Sarah decided now may be the last chance to have a little fun, so she slowed her advance, moved a little over to the right, and slipped into a blind spot. She got within striking distance, grinned, and slammed a hand down on the woman’s shoulder.

“Boo!”

The woman seized up and would have jumped out of her chair, but Sarah had clamped down on the right spot and with enough strength to keep the woman seated without hurting her. The prank was only good so long as it did not disturb all the work.

“M-m-miss Sachs!”

“Still so formal when caught off your guard.” Sarah glanced at the empty mug near the PC. “Or, are you feeling a little jittery, Tiara?”

“J-just a smidge. We… we’re really close.”

Sarah dropped her smile and claimed the seat by Tiara. She took her time so that Tiara could settle down. They looked at each other the same way Sarah and Roger had earlier. “How close?”

Tiara grabbed the mouse and the cursor flew around, pulling up several videos that orbited a map. Dots and titles matching the videos’ filenames marked the map. “Night shift was working backwards from what you had and managed to pull some receipts. Too far and disconnected to get a bead just from that, but it was enough to start looking for cars.”

A video in the upright played a scene from a parking lot. It paused when one car left the lot. Tiara pointed at it, specifically the tires. “I got called in when this vehicle showed up in a few videos.”

A few more clicks pulled up images of tracks in the snow, closer views showing black flecks amongst the white, and data tables filled with mathematical and chemical formulas.

“Plates were stolen, but treads matched up and so would the material if they haven’t changed tires recently.”

“So, we started getting pings.” Sarah rested a half-closed hand on her lips for a second. She poured over everything Tiara had brought up. Clenching her hand into a fist revealed a scowl. “They really must be hurting for cash or they’re amateurs for not dumping the car.”

The look in Sarah’s eyes kept Tiara silent. Their already piercing blue appeared almost animated and seemed to expand outward to obscure their whites. Tiara still remembered the first time seeing that look and nearly dropping whatever she had been holding at the time. Roger joked and called it a death beam. To Tiara, it evoked the feeling of a predator sizing up its prey, but it did not call to mind any specific creature. It was more like a hungry, sentient flame about to consume a powder keg.

“… ady?”

Tiara snapped to attention.

Sarah raised an eyebrow at her. The flame was still there but restrained. “You good?”

“Oh, yeah. Just uh…”

“I had the look, didn’t I?”

“Well, I…” Tiara blushed. “I mean, good sign?”

Sarah rubbed her chin. “Probably, but let’s see if we can finally get our location.”

~~~

At some point in the morning, the unit chief had returned from his coffee run. Several bags filled with bean varieties and snacks dangled from each arm. The number of bags betrayed the muscle his loose button-down shirt covered. He caught sight of Sarah and Tiara pressed up against their screens and heard the sounds coming from Roger’s section of the office. So, he slipped the bags onto the counter and filed everything away without making a sound.

He made his way to his personal office, sat down, and pulled up his emails. Giving his mustache a stroke, he got into catching up with the morning workload.

Near noon, there was a knock at the door.

“Enter,” he said.

Sarah strode in with Tiara behind her. In her hands was a manila folder with a block of paper sticking out of it. “Mark, we’ve got a hit for the Reuben matter.”

Alysa Reuben.

Daughter of Miles Reuben and heir to a successful chemical business. It pulled in just the right level of cash that her going missing a week ago got a few local news clips and a statement from the police. Nothing bigger than that though.

That suited Mr. Reuben fine for now. His company, started by his grandfather in twenties, had the right funds on the books to get off the ground without any unwanted attention. His grandfather had seen people go blind drinking hooch from the backwoods of who-knows-where. Given his chemistry degree, he knew the blindness and other maladies of the time could be resolved with skilled hands, the exact hands he had. So, he took a bet people would not mind a swig from a vat that made cleaning supplies whenever inspectors or police came by.

This little set-up had linked Reuben Chemicals with certain individuals that offered protection and connections to then-very-in-demand markets. They also had use for the actual chemicals the Reubens made.

Alcohol had long since become legal again, but the Reubens and the mafia’s relationship had continued to the present.

So, while some select cops could get involved, too many of them poking around could lead to a number of, at best, inconveniences.

That is where Sarah’s work had come in. Rich, eccentric, paranoid— all those who did not want to or could not go to the police were her regular clientele. Some days, jobs could just be delivering some groceries and maybe even getting a taste.

Then, there were jobs like this.

Mark took the folder and skimmed the report. Both women sat down. The only sound in the office was him turning pages. Tiara felt her skin prickle while Sarah waited patiently in her seat.

“So,” Mark’s voice carried the word with weight across the desk, “I’ll have Roger scope things out, but if it looks like we’re on target, how do you expect to get close?”

Sarah reached over and pulled a picture from the folder. “We have our key.”

~~~

Sam gave a yawn as he walked down the aisle. His shoulders still ached from the lumber transport earlier in the day. His one solace was that tomorrow was free. His baggy eyes scanned across the shelfs for a good whiskey to go with the roast chicken in his basket.

When he neared his goal, he spotted a woman reaching up high. He grinned and realized she was going for the same drink he was. Lifting up a hand, he grabbed a bottle.

“Thank you,” she said.

“Hey, no problem. This is good stuff, though a bit pricey. Got a celebration coming up?”

“Reunion, though half of this is just to get me through the door.”

“Yeesh.” Sam grabbed his own bottle. “Worth it?”

“We’ll see.” The woman grinned and made her way to the checkout.

Sam had what he needed as well, so he followed. “So, you’re a local then?”

“Just grew up here. You?”

“Been working jobs for a few years here and there. Man’s gotta eat, you know.”

The two proceeded to checkout and stepped outside. Sam moved to head to his car but saw the woman was standing a little away from the store, typing something into her phone. He paused. Snow had been falling since the late afternoon and had coated the lot. Waiting for a ride?”

“Oh, it should just be a few minutes.”

The corners of Sam’s lips curled. “I could give you a ride if you like.”

“That’s very kind of you.” The woman slipped her phone into her purse and drew close to him. Her next words were like steel to Sam’s ears. “How many girls have you gotten into your car like that?”

Before Sam could respond, he felt actual steel press against his hip. The woman had positioned herself in such a way no cameras or anyone walking out of the store would see the gun. A car pulled in from the street and up to the pair.

“Now,” said Sarah. “I think I’ll give you a ride.”

~~~

On the outside, the car passed for a regular SUV. For all regular driving purposes, it was as well. Tinted windows were not uncommon. The back, with its two seats facing each other was the only major indicator on the surface that this was not an ordinary car.

Sam, now sweating as the snow flecked off the windows, found himself constrained to one chair. The sweat was notable not just for the situation but because he had been stripped to his undershirt and thermals. His own gun had disappeared up front.

“Amateurs, Amateurs,” Sarah sighed. “Living it up, when you haven’t even sealed a deal. Unless, of course, you’re making promises you can’t keep.”

“I don’t know what you’re ta—”

“Shhh-shhh-shhh.” Sarah held a finger to her lips. “That kind of talk is only going to keep you here longer. I’m sure you wanted to get home, drink your socks off, and then maybe scrape yourself up just enough tomorrow morning to see your kid. I’m sure he’d be thrilled.”

The sweat thickened on Sam. “W-what?”

“Honestly, I would make sure I had enough cash to deal with alimony and child support before blowing it on booze, but who am I to judge you on your free time?” Sarah took a breath and allowed her words to sink in. When she next looked at Sam, her eyes pierced his soul. “So, are we clear? You’ve got no secrets in this car.”

“My boss wi—”

“’Have your back?’ Like with Paul? How about Larry? Did you know Bart’s sentencing is next week?”

Each name shaved more color off of Sam.

“Like I said, no secrets.” Sarah leaned closer to Sam. Restrained, he could not avoid her gaze. “That means we’re all in on who you’ve got and where you’re all at. We just need a little help paying your friends a visit. Quite unfortunate for them but lucky for you if you’re willing to lend a hand.”

~~~

Two of the three people in the car shivered in the early light of day. Tiara, from the boots on her feet to the goggles that had replaced her glasses, felt the uneven energy zinging through her nerves.

Sam gripped the wheel. He was fully clothed again but his shakes made Sarah grimace.

“Take a breath,” Sarah ordered. “You get us in and we’ll handle the rest.”

Sam said nothing. He gave the smallest of bows with his head.

“Is he gonna be okay?” Tiara asked.

“He’ll be fine,” Sarah insisted. “In his circumstances, I certainly wouldn’t complain about getting to spend a night in S Suite.”

“S?” Tiara cocked her head. “Not I? Then why is he…”

“Because when we got honest with each other, Sammy here told me he’s very new at this line of work.” Sarah glared at Sam from the passenger seat. He shuddered enough that the car veered a little out of the lane. “Eyes on the road.”

Tiara observed Sam’s pale expression. It was one she had seen a few times before; each time when Sarah had been involved. Numerous theories had cropped up in Tiara’s mind about what had occurred but nothing Tiara could latch onto. Those like Sam bore no bruises, cuts, or other injuries that Tiara associated with extracting information. None of the supplies at the office used for those jobs were depleted when Sarah brought people to this state. With where they were headed and having built up a little courage, Tiara’s curiosity prevailed over her trepidation. “And then?”

“And then I learned he was surprised when someone doesn’t like getting kidnapped. Our target has some fight in her and Sam wanted to remove that with some smacks. The others had better sense and stopped him after just a busted lip,” Sarah answered. From her seat, Tiara could not see it, but she was certain the fire was blazing in Sarah’s eyes. “Sam and I talked for a while after that on the ins-and-outs of work like this. Physical violence against a prisoner really is the worst way to get what you want. It’s much better when you go in already knowing everything there is to know about your prisoner. His likes. His struggles. His fears. When you know someone like that, you can spot where their whole life can come crumbling down.”

The energy that had left Tiara nervous about what awaited was subsumed. It was cold inside the car. Sam’s shivers were more violent than Tiara’s. “Y-you can do that with what we found?

“When you have a good starting point, most people can go from incomprehensible aliens to open books real fast.” Sarah glanced back, giving Tiara a view of just the upper half of her face. Her eyes were still focused but Tiara did not feel captive in their gaze. “You and the night shift got me to the starting point. Thanks.”

“Oh, um…” Tiara searched for the words, but the shifting moods in the car had left her at a loss. As she tried to find an appropriate response, she observed the streets just beginning to fill with traffic. She fell back on common curtesy. “You’re welcome… I hope I’m as good today.”

“Orders are orders,” Sarah sighed. “I’d have preferred you at a distance as well, but guess Boss is wanting us both out of our comfort zones for this.”

The voice of a woman of indeterminate age came to both Tiara and Sarah’s minds. They had not seen her yesterday after Mark passed the information up to the top, but both women had sensed a grin dancing across the woman’s lips. “Ms. Feinstein, you need to be more hands on. Ms. Sachs, I shall leave her and on-the-ground command to you.”

~~~

They drove along for a while longer, weaving through downtown’s seemingly unending roadwork. Along the way, Sarah and Tiara shifted positions thanks to some late-night remodeling on Sam’s car. As they pulled up to a lot where bare earth lay exposed next to piles of freshly cleared snow, neither of the women was visible to onlookers.

Sam’s car joined a few others. The drivers, like Sam, leaned toward being on the bigger side. A half-finished skyscraper rose up ahead of the cars, exposed beams at the top shined bright from the morning sun. The first few floors were covered in glass and a few rooms had insulation. The workers who got to install it were envied by the others at this time of year, but the foreman had cited their experience and certification. Sam just happened to be one of those workers.

He pulled up near a row of porta-potties. It was not a highly sought after spot but it was nothing out of the ordinary. Plus, sometimes people needed the convenience after a long morning drive.

Sarah looked up at Sam after he put the car in park and jerked her head to the side. Sam grabbed the door handle, but Sarah clasped onto him. “Remember, birds are out and about.”

Sam gulped, nodded, and left the car. He went around and opened the door on the other side, retrieving his safety gear while Sarah and Tiara slid out. They stayed crouched while Sam hustled over to a john. He went in for a few minutes and then made his way over to the other workers.

An older man with salt and pepper whiskers spotted Sam and called to him from the table where he had been reviewing blueprints. “Sam? Thought you had the day off.”

“F-forgot my mug.”

“Well, grab a cup before you head home, ya look like death warmed over.”

“Yeah…” Sam shuffled around, looking here and there. “Maybe coming down with something.”

The older man’s forehead creases. “Give Oslo a heads up before you lea—”

A blast cut the man off. Everyone stopped their work and looked around for the source of the sound. They all caught sight of some large misshapen object tearing through the air but the sun made it difficult to fully see. Then, all their noses were assaulted with the harsh odor of chemicals. They all knew the smell but not at this intensity. Just as the shape came crashing down, it became clear what it was: the top portion of a porta-potty. Its jagged edges clunked into the cold earth with a dull thud.

The workers stood stunned for a moment, the calamity slowly dawning on them. A whistle trilled a set of blasts. Training took over. Crews moved away from the building and over to where sawdust and other cleanup materials were.

While the workers dealt with the results of the concoction Tiara had crafted and Sam had dumped into the john, she and Sarah bolted across the site. Their sprint came to a stop at the half-finished skyscraper. Pressing close to its base, they paused to catch their breath. There were a few glints in the sky, perceptible only if you looked long enough or if you knew something was there.

“R1,” Sarah said into her earpiece, “we’re ready to do our inner breach.”

“Three bears went to hibernate,” Roger replied. “Goldilocks could have more company. Huntsmen are on standby. Sheriff is getting pings but isn’t out to collect yet.”

Sarah upholstered her gun. Tiara did the same. The former gave a signal with her hand and the two moved in.

It was still cold inside but a few degrees warmer. The wind rustled tarps and made wires clink against pipes and cement. Sarah and Tiara advanced, eyes scanning the metal frames and incomplete walls.

They managed to make it to the stairs without interruption. The stairwell was darker than the rest of the building, but there was still enough required lighting and openings above that it was not pitch black. Still, they raised their legs high with each step and felt around with their feet. A well-placed rod or a random wire could be an effective security system without regular construction workers being any the wiser.

As they ascended the first flight up, a pair of boots resonated against the stairs’ bare steel. The pair zipped back down with as little sound as possible and hugged the corner most out of sight. From there, they had just enough of a view to catch whoever might come down the stairs. Sarah kept a grip on her gun while Tiara holstered hers and grabbed a second firearm from her waist. This one, though comparable in size to a handgun, had a barrel bigger than a shotgun’s.

Each footstep rang through the stairwell. Sarah kept her right hand hovering over the left as it grasped her gun tight. All her muscles were clenched but she felt it most in her core where the burn of adrenaline was strongest. She controlled her breathing despite the inflamed tension until a shoulder appeared from above the stairs. She flexed her right hand and sliced it up before bringing it back by her other hand.

Tiara aimed and fired. A dart flashed through the air and lodged into a man’s neck. Tiara could not resist a smile when the man reached for the dart trying to process what it was as his limbs grew heavy. He lurched, planted into a wall, and slumped down to the ground, unconscious.

Then, a clang rang. Followed by another and another. The stairwell continued to echo after the flashlight that had fallen from the man’s grasp rolled down the final step and came to rest at the base.

“Frankie?” a voice called from above. “What the hell wa—”

No one descended the stairs. Instead, quickened footsteps resounded from above.

“Showtime.” Sarah pressed into her earpiece. “R1, veil down, bears awake. Protocol six.”

Required input in, Sarah strode forward. Caution for making a racket abandoned, she flew upwards, but just as quickly came to a halt at the top of the stairs.

Tiara had followed so close behind she almost bumped into Sarah. Scanning the scene, Tiara calculated Sarah was at the exact point something from beyond the doorframe could neither see nor reach them.

Sliding a hand into her jacket, Sarah grabbed a rubber ball and threw it in a curve so it looked like it was coming straight through the door.

A hail of gunfire greeted the ball when it flew into the room.

“Semi,” said Tiara after a moment of silence. “Probably with mods.”

Sarah pulled back a free hand to her belt. Several spheres and tubes hung from it. She grabbed one of each and threw a sphere close to the ground. Seconds after it cleared the doorframe, a small explosion and dozens of tinks of metal banging, crashing, and slicing into the construction site filled the air. Counting down second, Sarah threw the tube.

Tiara saw it arc through the air and covered her ears. It had been a little while since she had last experienced it, so seeing the flash even though she had closed her eyes and they were shielded by her goggles stunned her.

Sarah was already storming past the last bastion of security when Tiara opened her eyes. Tiara raced after her, hands shuffling around her belt to replace the tranquilizer with the more permanent option.

Shots rang out. Metal clanged against the ground. Then, the rip of something corrugated based on the sound. Tiara saw Sarah roll behind a pillar, tearing her foot through the floor. Alarms blaring in her head, Tiara rushed for cover.

More shots sliced through the air. Tiara took as good a glance as she could from her position and saw a hole in the ground. There were crimson splatters around its jagged edges.

“Careful,” came a man’s voice. “Only authorized personnel allowed.”

“Cajun!” Sarah ordered. Tiara reached for the sphere at her side, but Sarah threw one in the seconds she knew it would take Tiara to reach for her belt— just enough time for the man to change his aim.

Red smoke burst ahead of Tiara and Sarah. Coughing racked the air. Tiara dared to peek from her cover. Sarah wrenched herself from around a pillar, took aim and fired.

Silence.

A breeze crested through the building, dispersing the smoke. Two men lay sprawled on the floor, each with heavy artillery nearby. Three pools of blood were congealing into a single spot under one of the men. The other man only had one pool by his upper shoulder. Tiara seized her tranquilizer and fired. The second man went limp.

“Glad you upgraded to two shots,” Sarah huffed and went down to a knee. Tiara moved over to her, skirting the open space between the steel pillars. The floor groaned in spots, but, heeding the earlier warning, Tiara sidled, so that her full weight was never on one point. Reaching Sarah, she took cover and crouched beside her.

Rough cuts tore through the bottom third of Sarah’s right pants’ leg. Blood wettened the fabric and dribbled onto her sock and shoe. She pulled out a miniature spray can and brought it near her wounds. As the antiseptic misted over her leg, she seethed. “Superficial. Some may need a few stitches later. Amateur.”

“Better than me.” Tiara glanced at the men’s weapons while getting some gauze from the kit on her belt. After she had finished bandaging the wounds, she shifted around to take in the space. A pitter-patter near where the dead man lay and the rustle of tarps punctuated the silence.

Sarah remained focused on the door just off to the side a few yards down from them. There were other doors, but they were all attached to suites and conference rooms with incomplete walls or windows. “We’ll need to move faster now. Stay on your toes, aside from the floor, they may have left some other traps. Go.”

Tiara tensed. “But I—”

“Anyone left would have come out by now. If not to join the fight, then to move the target, unless they’ve got some other escape route. So, you need to move. I’ll cover you.”

Sarah was now looking straight at Tiara. It was not the piercing glare that sent shivers down Tiara’s spine but a magnified variant of the look Sarah gave when they made a major breakthrough at the office. It reminded her of getting As and winning science competitions. Taking a breath, Tiara nodded and got up.

“R1, S1 sprung a beartrap,” she said while reaching up to a knob on her goggles with one hand and into a pouch with the other. Steam rose from the pouch. “She’s providing cover while I secure the target. Ready Huntsmen for cleanup. Two bears found nice beds, the third found a ditch.”

“Copy. Mess is still getting cleaned up outside but there may be some bears mixed with the sheep.”

“Copy.” Tiara removed a small vial from her pouch, uncorked it, and threw the contents ahead of her. The vial’s liquid shimmered and splashed on the ground, but bits of it remained suspended in the air. It dripped down and to the sides, forming metallic trails in the cold air that highlighted previously unseen wires.

Tiara advanced. The floor creaked here and there, but did not give. Tiara became more certain the first trap was the only one related to the floor. It was likely an intentional fault that could be patched when the building’s darker role was no longer needed or a small explosion, one with a delivery system minor enough to skirt notice but enough to crumple part of the floor. It was the kind of thing that could lead to a workplace accident but nothing further. After all, workers still had to move through here day-to-day.

The wires likely operated on a similar basis. They were strung close to corners and pillars, not out in the open where anyone could get clotheslined by them. They looked easy to cut and perhaps that was how certain workers got rid of them while regular workers were on the clock, but there was likely a certain disposal method Tiara was not privy to or had the time to learn.

It was a decent system: a three-hit combo of armed guards, a trap that kept one focused on the ground, and a second that took advantage of that created blind spot. Tiara had to acknowledge that it was at least an impediment given what it had done to Sarah.

Yet, Tiara had time to think over all of this while slipping around the exposed wires, so “decent” was the highest she could rank it. She resumed keeping her weight evenly distributed just in case the floor still actually did hold another trap. Vials glinted and spilled more gallium. By the time she drew close to the door, her path resembled a melting spiderweb.

Sarah watched from afar. She kept her gun drawn. Her leg throbbed, but at this point she welcomed it. It had remained quiet and the logical side of her brain whispered the danger was past. Her injuries helped keep her muscles tense and fed her training and instincts that until she left the building with the target, she could not relax.

That and the fire in her core. It was always there, smoldering through her work, but cases like this raised it to a flame. Only completion of the job could smother it to little more than the tiniest of embers. Anything that got in her way she would burn. At the back of her mind, she imagined it would be nice giving everyone involved the same treatment she had given Sam, but that was not part of the job. The Reubens had more than enough methods of revenge that did not involve Sarah. She instead directed the flame into keeping her grip steady.

Tiara drew near the door. Now she just had to open it.

When Tiara raised up a leg, Sarah seized up. The form was correct but the positioning relative to the door was wrong. The kick flew forward and smashed through the lock. Just as Tiara lowered her leg, someone shoved a muzzle into the open space.

Three shots caught Tiara in the chest.

The flame exploded inside Sarah. Everything about the case and the sight of seeing a junior—her junior whom she helped train and supervise—fall ripped away her professional mask for a split second. That was all she needed.

The shooter was the last line of defense so he had been focused solely on the intruder right at his door. His head was exposed but Sarah aimed for his hands. The idea of aiming lower flashed through her mind but she did not want him to bleed out.

No. The shot she was about to fire would just be the start. She would find the shooter’s worst nightmares and make them real. Every connection the shooter had; she would tear down. Everything precious, she would burn. The shooter’s life would become ash.

Her eyes flared, now accompanied by a grin radiating bloodlust.

She squeezed the trigger as the flames, a sadistic blaze, swelled within her.

And flames exploded from her gun. It was not the flash from her muzzle, but a great column of fire. Blinding yellow and ruby roared forward, tearing through the construction site. Steel reddened and creaked when touched by the flames.

As the blazing pillar bore down on the shooter, its recoil launched Sarah back and into the air. She crested into the abyss, her left arm cracking and snapping. Her training—her old training—kicked in and reprimanded her.

Her position was one of the worst she could take if using a spell.

She was falling now. As she did, her hair flowed around her. A bright yellow now mixed with her auburn hair. It was as if the flames had followed her. No, it was more than just flames, she knew what her mane resembled. In the early morning hours, a sunset appeared.

Confusion, powerful as it was, was subsumed by guilt. She regained herself in that brief weightlessness and felt what was coming was deserved. With just a breath or any other kind of pause, she could have avoided this outcome. Why a spell—the impossible— had occurred was secondary to the fact she had used her weapon not as a professional. She had lost herself for a split second. For as much as she tried to quell the flame in her, to direct it to good, it could never be fully dowsed.

The ground was a more pressing issue.

She thrust out her right hand in desperation even though old instincts were also telling her to concentrate from a horn that did not exist.

She slammed into the ground a split second after a bit of aura burst out of her hand and cushioned the blow. The world grew dark.

Answers would not come in those last moments of consciousness but there were two inescapable realities.

She was Sunset Shimmer, and something was terribly wrong.

Author's Note

I've been wanting to do a Sunset Shimmer story for sometime, but maybe was too nervous to fully commit to it because I have a certain reverence for her character.

There's something I like about her existing between worlds and the struggles she goes though on multiple fronts (pony to human, villain to hero, tyrant to friendly leader).

Plus, with this releasing on Halloween, there's the bonus she deals with wearing masks (who else remembers that early toy?)