In the Shadow of Death

Untitled Part 1

A chill tingles up the vice cop's spine as she enters the dimly lit street. The soft thunder of her heartbeat reverberates in the hollows of her ears. A part of her is fully aware that each advancing step could be her last. Splintered nerves echo Castillo's firm refrain which, had expressly forbidden this mission. "I will NOT risk you again." But that was the problem. Castillo wasn't jeopardizing her, having been made aware that her cover had been blown clear out of the water. Tubbs was placing her own life on the line while being fully conscious of the risk and potential consequences. Hell, she had two bullet-holes in her chest to remind her just how close she'd come to the grave.

The unexpected rustle of abandoned paper being dragged against the calloused asphalt nearly causes her to jump out of her skin, though she would never confess to being so petrified. A cold sweat mars her brow as Tubbs strains to convince herself she is doing the right thing by holding this meeting with Burnett. The hopeless romantic in her wants to win him back. She doesn't care what his rescue will cost even if it comes at the price of her life.

The anxious anticipation increased by the period of waiting keeps her nerves feeling unhinged. A glance down at the dealer's watch she wears tells her that he is running late. The same silver Rolex frantically sputters out time as if, it were counting down the seconds remaining until the impending disaster. Her dark eyes keep perpetual watch, denoting the moving and stationary shadows locked in the alleyway. One, however, managed to escape her notice.

A rapid moving form thrusts her backwards till her spine finds a brick wall with a thud. Shaky breaths depart her lips as her gaze rapidly flickers up towards the features of her assailant. She reaches up to shove the individual away but she pauses. It's not the sight that first grabs at the corners of her attentiveness. No. It's the familiar smell of his cigarettes and aftershave which, is followed by the well-known crown of golden-brown hair. "So...Sonny," she manages to gasp as his body presses ever nearer to her's till she is given no room to budge. Her gaze strives to take in his beloved countenance. "I'm sorry. I... I had to see you again." She explains. Her words almost seem obnoxiously lame given their situation. Her body visibly trembles from head to toe with the intensity of the adrenaline racing through her veins. "I want you to come home." She beseeches him in a tone no louder than a whisper, placing extra emphasis on the word 'home'.

Minutes later a chorus of footsteps could be heard closing in on the two of them. She knows without the need for a flashlight who they will be because she hadn't brought along any backup. They are Burnett's semi-loyal goons. Some of them were leftovers from the Manolo cartel and had reputations for their blood-thirstiness. Reputations that had only grown worse under the leadership of Sonny. At least fifteen guns are drawn upwards and pointed in their direction.

Still, Tubbs remains pinned between Burnett's muscular figure and the wall, boxed in like prey. Was Sonny now shielding her or had she become his personal quarry? She couldn't tell. The warmth exuded from his proximity would be comforting if only, she could read him the way she used to. A silent prayer radiates within the concentric confines of evergreen and coffee hues as their eyes meet once more. Wordlessly, her one quivering hand slips up his broad chest and comes to rest over his heart. It is her hope that the gesture speaks higher volumes than any words she could pluck out of her extensive vocabulary.

"Boss?!" One of the men loudly call. Ricki doesn't know his name but the voice is vaguely familiar."She's that cop! The one who keeps nosing around our business!" It's true. She'd admitted as much the last time they encountered each other.

Another deeper voice beckons to Burnett, "want us to take care of her for you, Boss?"

Panic grips at the corners of the muscle locked between her rib cage, a prisoner to feelings of love, admiration, and devotion to him. Her confidence in Sonny's loyalties wavers slightly causing her eyes to screw shut. This must be what it's like awaiting a conviction, just knowing the gavel will drop with your sentence or your freedom at any moment. Either way, one's life would be changed with the results. Part of her expects her death to be swift and certain. One well placed shot and her world will all fade to darkness....