WAHINE - d. williams

TWØ.

"DANNY."

Tapping on the glass window of Danny's Camaro woke him with a start. He looked over to see Steve staring at him, the skin around his eyes crinkled with squint/smile lines. Instinctively, he opened the car door and got out of the car, stretching.

"What are you doing?" Steve asked, frowning, "I was just going to tell you to go ahead and head to HPD. I'm going to be here for a while, and somebody capable needs to watch that girl."

"What am I, her babysitter?" Danny answered, placing one hand on his hip and gesturing in frustration with the other, while giving Steve a flat look. Steve rolled his eyes.

"You found her first, now just make sure she doesn't do anything stupid. Or illegal. Not mutually exclusive."

"Because 'I found her first'? Are you shitting me?" When Steve didn't back down, Danny said, "Max and Fong are already at HPD, why can't one of them keep an eye on her?"

"Do either of those guys look like they'd be able to disarm an angry sniper-lady? Or knock her out, at least? Huh?" Steve retorted, and upon not receiving a reply from Danny, continued, a little more calmly, "Now, git."

Sighing, Danny stepped back into his car and closed the door behind him. He realized at that point that never once had he driven his own car—Steve had always done that. He ran a hand through his blond hair, letting out a long sigh, then started the engine of his Camaro and drove out onto the highway. The sun hung low in the sky, washing the highway and surrounding flora in rich orange tones. It was a relaxing sight, but Danny knew that the woman that awaited him at HPD headquarters would be quite the beast to tame, especially since he'd stuck her in a tight, enclosed space with the radio set to max, just to piss her off. He usually never did anything to mess with the perps, but this one was an exception—she could handle it. In fact, he was willing to bet that she probably had more balls than the majority of the male officers at HPD. After all, she got herself shot and wasn't even wearing a bulletproof vest—most of the younger officers would never put themselves in a dangerous situation without it.

His forehead started to throb, reminding Danny of what she'd done to him. Then he thought about what she'd done to him—it didn't match past actions of similar criminals. She didn't try to run. She tricked him into thinking she was hurt, then whacked him on the head with a hidden handgun, stunning him long enough for her to escape by jumping off the building (somehow not breaking any bones) and landing on her feet. Everything about her was impossible for a first-time offender. She knew exactly how he would react to her trick. She just knew.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆

As Danny pulled up to the curb outside HPD, an officer walked briskly forward to meet him. The man was young, with skin on the darker side and eyes as black as coal but that burned as brightly as the sun above.

"Detective Williams," the man said, slightly out of breath, "the woman you sent over...she's got Fong as a hostage."

Danny frowned, then said, "And you're not doing anything about it because...?"

"That's the thing," he told Danny, "she will see no one. Made damn sure of that when she shot one of our officers right through his vest. We couldn't risk sending more of us down there—most of our usual office guys are tending to other crime scenes and cases in the area."

"Well, she's gonna see me. Where are they?"

"The basement, sir," the officer panted, his eyebrows knit together in fear and concern, "be careful, she's armed. A sniper rifle hybrid."