Wonder Woman and the Superheroine Serial Killer - Part 40

“What the hell are we supposed to do now,” grumbles Gary as he frowns at the wall-mounted television currently displaying the now familiar home screen of WW_Screwed.com showing the many purchase options of sex scene photos available. “The place fills up with what looks like a gas grenade, the camera shows us a set of stairs that's being climbed and then this Frenchman says ‘Sorry for this sudden break. I will be back if I can’ and now we've got these damn photo sets to choose from. I'm not buying any more of these. Think I should change to regular tv and see what's on?”

“What if he comes back,” Jake says, worried, “and we miss a piece of internet history like uhhm..uhhh...”

“...like what,” Jamal replies. “Like Wonder Woman getting fucked or giving a blow job or taking it up her ass? Or getting choked to death? We've seen almost everything this guy is gonna do. He’s probably busy saving his own ass. I don’t think he’s comin’ back. I think the show's over.”

“I’m not so sure about that,”Gary muses, “but I bet I’ve got at least a few minutes to check and see if this is making news on any of the networks.”

“I concur,” Roger chimes in. “See if anybody’s covering this on the national media.”

“Wait!” Jake blurts out, “don’t you have picture in picture or something? So we can see at the same time if Frenchy comes back on?”

“I would if this were on cable or broadcast,” Gary grumbles, “but this is the Internet and they don’t, oh hey, wait. I’ll open another tab and go to the D.C. station’s streaming newscast. Good call, Jake. Pick out a free magazine.”

“Fuck that,”Jake shakes his head. “I’ll take that photo set of Wonder Tits getting dick between her melons.”

“In your dreams, dickwad,” Gary says, opening the tab to the capital city’s CBS affiliate.

The picture comes up of a talking anchorman with an incredible head of wavy white hair and a tan so deep and perfect you could only get it by living either in the Caribbean or under a sun lamp for five hours a day. He is wrapping up his story. “And that’s all we have right now. More information about this developing story of Wonder Woman’s fight for her life on our regular eleven o’clock Action News. I’m Bryce Camden and I’ll be joining John Nancy, Heather Wells, and Craig Butler to give you the full low-down at the top of the hour. Right now we return you to the conclusion of our Sunday Night Movie; ‘Heidi.’”

“Oh, Fuck that!” Gary scowls and logs on to another station’s website but get’s nothing there. Apparently, everybody is finishing up their normal programming, undoubtedly scrambling like maniacs to get the story ready for their newscasts coming up in just 40 minutes. Finally, he turns to the CNN webcast. It shows an attractive middle-aged black woman at her news anchor desk with the picture of the WW_Screwed homepage on a green screen behind her. The lewd pictures of the Wonder Woman photosets are all pixilated making the visual disturbing and hard to look at. Even the woman at the desk seems uncomfortable but that could be the sexual explicitness of the story she’s been describing.

“...ocal police are not offering any explanation at this time of where this attack on the famous Amazon is taking place, and events are unfolding even as we speak with two police detectives from the District of Columbia on the scene now. For the moment, the perpetrator seems to have fled the room where Wonder Woman was being restrained and sexually assaulted. More on this story as soon as we know more.”

“Well, gents, I guess we just cool our heels until something happens. Anyone leaving? I really should have closed up an hour ago,” Gary says. “It’s past 10 on a Sunday night for crissake. I got a life you know.”

“That’s bullshit,” Roger answers. “We all know for a fact you have no life!”

“Fine, stay,” Gary replies, glumly acknowledging the point. But for legal purposes he goes over to the front door and flips around the dangling plastic sign from open to closed.

Detective Sal Abato holds onto the incredibly shapely figure of Wonder Woman. Her naked body, heavily slouched, remains wrapped in a clear, skin-tight rubber catsuit as she sobs heavily, her streaming tears from her bowed head dropping down to wet the hairs of his bare chest. He’s aroused but he’s focused on their perilous situation despite his stiffness.

“Look, Wonder Woman, we need to get you someplace safe until I know that Jimmy has handled Pascal. Let’s see if we can find a place to hide you.”

“You can’t leave me!” The pale skin, strident tone and wild eyes of the Amazon’s upturned horrified face tell the Italian detective that she is teetering on the edge of shock. With all that he imagines she’s been through, it was no surprise. While he hadn’t seen the web broadcast, the sight of the pale bruises and closed wounds told a story. But this beautiful woman’s cowering desperate demeanor told him even more. She’d been put through a wringer that even a superheroine couldn’t handle. That much was clear.

“No, I won’t leave you. I promise,” Sal says softly, looking all around,” but you have to work with me here. Have you been in this room before?”

“..uhh...no...oh...wait....yes...a few times...”

Sal frowns, his head down, musing about what to do when he spots a golden glimmer under a nearby shelf. He bends down to check it out as Wonder Woman grabs onto a different shelf to steady herself. Her physical reserves are almost completely depleted. Her knees quiver as she holds on and mumbles, “...what....are you...doing...”

Sal straightens up, his fist held out gripping Wonder Woman’s golden lasso. It dangles there before her, hanging down in uneven tangled loops.

“...my...my...lasso...how....where did you...get it...?” Her hand tentatively reaches out for it and he carefully hands it over to the dumbstruck beauty.

“It was just lying there on the floor, under that shelf.”

“...the only thing....left....” she mumbles, her eyes welling up.

“We can’t stay here. It’s too dangerous,” Sal declares.”Do you remember any place that we could hide?”


Wonder Woman’s muscle memory has her trying to attach her lasso to a belt that no longer exists. It falls to the floor in a heap of shiny coils. Sal frowns at this and bends down to retrieve the lasso once again from the floor.

“Why don’t I keep this for now,” Sal says softly, tucking the lasso into the deep pocket of his pants. He then takes hold of Wonder Woman’s hand and leads the way through the huge storage room, searching for a reasonable place to hunker down. Some place defensible. “Look for any place we won’t be spotted by Pascal.”

“...uhhm...er....behind the shelves...maybe....”

“Well, no, he could see right through most of them.” Sal is distressed; something that obvious and Wonder Woman can’t fathom the issue. She was in very bad shape.

“...under them...” she offers next.

“What? Under them? They’re only eight inches off the floor, we couldn’t... never mind, we’ll find something.”

“He’ll come back,” Wonder Woman moans, holding onto Sal’s hand and stumbling behind him in an ungainly fashion. The detective’s head is swiveling urgently as he weighs the poor options he sees. “He’ll kill Jimmy....and come back for me....and probably kill you too....it’s hopeless...” Wonder Woman is bleating, a bead of snot dribbling out of her nostril.

“It’s not hopeless!” Sal stops so abruptly that a dazed Wonder Woman bumps into him. He turns and takes her biceps in his palms, looking her straight in the eyes. “Jimmy’s smart and resourceful. He’ll be fine. And I’m no slouch myself.” Sal declares this firmly, trying to convince himself as much as his companion.

“...thought I was smart.....resourceful...didn’t do me...any good...” Wonder Woman lowers her eyes, her voice small and meek.

“I need you to be strong here, Wonder Woman.” Sal gives her a firm shake and her head falls forward and then arches back, her throat exposed. The wound from the molybdenum chain still shows an angry red. The Amazon warrior brings her head forward slowly, focusing on the man before her.

“..i’m...i’m...not strong, Sal,” she says with a hitch in her voice, her eyes welling up. “I’m just not strong enough.” She buries her head in his neck and weeps. “...not anymore...not ever again....”

“That’s not the Amazon warrior that tore me a new asshole just this morning.”

“...she...doesn’t exist...anymore...” Wonder Woman’s muffled voice comes from her face buried against the detective’s throat. “...that...that...overconfident...cow...is...is..dead...”

“I don’t believe that!” Sal puts both hands on the sides of her head and pushes it away from his body. He looks her in the eyes once again. “That’s that arrogant French prick talking, not you. Come on, let’s keep looking for someplace to...” His eyes suddenly trace down her body, sheathed in rubber and worthy of the wet dreams of emperors and kings. He gulps and swivels his head around looking at the ceiling. There are cameras everywhere he realizes. He doesn’t know if they’re still live and broadcasting this scene to the world but he doesn’t like the odds. “What happened to my shirt?”

“..what...?..” The confused look in the heroine’s eyes tells Sal all he needs to know. She’s barely aware of her nakedness at this stage. She must have dropped the shirt when he helped her off the table. He’d been so concerned about Pascal and Jimmy and everything going on at the time to realize it. But he’s realizing it now.

“You’re naked. You’re showing everything.”

“...yes...I know...but...w..what can I do...they’ve seen it all anyway...doesn’t matter...” The glum Champion of All Woman stands there with her nipples poking against the suit, her pussy and her ass tightly encased in the confines of the Cunt Hugger Xciter catsuit with both access flaps draping open and her pussy and anus exposed to the open air. She just shrugs her shoulders enough to set her tits wobbling. “I don’t...don’t care anymore...really...”

“Well, I do!” Abato quickly unbuckles his belt and pulls down his pants. He steps out of them, picks them up and urgently ties the pant legs around Wonder Woman’s waist so her crotch is covered up. Walking around her, the detective sees most of her ass is still quite visible but at least her bald pussy isn’t on display for the world. On the other hand, his boner is tenting his blue plaid boxers quite noticeably.

Wonder Woman sees this and actually blinks a few times. Surprise and appreciation at the size of him battle it out in her fogged mind and her eyes. He sees her expression, looks down and swears.

“Fuck me!”

“...uhhmm...now...?...” she blurts.

“What? Oh, god, no! I meant....Oh, come on,” he growls, taking her hand and rapidly striding forward, hopefully leading the way to safety with his prick pointing the way inside his briefs like a divining rod.

The website broadcasting the scene of Pascal thrusting away at Wonder Woman’s bouncing and wobbling and swaying ass while secured in chains on the table had been extremely disturbing to both Etta and Steve. And extremely arousing. It was horrible but the truth was that neither of them could deny how horny they felt even though the Champion of All Women was being choked to death and sodomized right before their eyes.

But that magnificent writhing body being so brazenly taken, completely naked except for the shine of that suit on her, it was beyond hot! And when the police broke in and saved her, it was a rush of excitement and passion that neither Steve nor Etta could process, could reason with, could handle.

Etta flung herself at Steve, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and pulling him right off his chair. They fell to the office floor in a desperate tangle of searching arms and intertwined legs. Fingers fought for buttons. Zippers were pulled down and got stuck, curses were uttered, fabric was torn. Underwear flew in the air. A bra strap snapped. Genitals were uncovered. Openings were used. Two bodies rocked together to the sounds of moans and grunts. Lips were mashed. Breasts were grabbed, as were balls. As were both sets of asses. Sucking prevailed. Licking too. Ooohs and ahhhs filled the air. So did “not there”, “closer”, “harder”, “left, no your left”, “that’s better”, “more of that”, “Ow! Less of that!” and even a “Hera help me.” Ultimately there were grunts and then silence and then sighs and then more silence. And then a pen rolled off the desk.

Jimmy is in the first floor hallway just off the utility room with it’s secret door leading up from the lab. His gun is drawn, pointed at the ceiling, and his back is flat against a wall for the second time in almost as many hours. From warehouse to townhouse, the feeling’s the same, nervous energy mixed with anger and fear. He doesn’t expect feral cats this time though. He expects an assault by Pascal or some kind of very nasty spinning multi-bladed whirlygig to be coming at him through the shadows.

“I don’t get paid enough for this,” he murmurs. Gritting his teeth, he quickly spins around the corner with his gun pointed in a two-handed crouch, arms straight out. He faces a large dining room with a long ornate cherry dining table and chairs, an impressive crystal chandelier, a matching cherry sideboard and no evil villain; just his silver tea service sitting there mocking him. “Still don’t get paid enough,” he grumbles. He walks through the room toward the front hallway, poking his head around the corner to see an empty hallway and stairs leading to the second floor. The carpet is plush enough to just make out a footprint springing up to disappear into an expanse of soft gray. Jimmy follows the track, cautiously making his way up with the carpet absorbing every silent footstep.

It’s been four minutes of winding their way through 8-foot high shelving units and still Sal hasn’t discovered anything in the large storage area that he considers an appropriate hiding place. The walk-in freezer he ultimately rejected as a possible death trap with both the temperature control unit and the locking handle on the outside of the freezer.

He’d considered risking getting Wonder Woman out via the elevator but that too could turn into a death trap in mere seconds. The only other means of escape would be to go back through Pascal’s lab and with the stumbling, mumbling heroine dragging more and more in her efforts to keep up behind him, Sal thinks the stress, the fear and horror might send the poor beauty over the edge of sanity forever. He didn’t want to be the one who put Wonder Woman in the nuthouse.

Sal finally gives up and decides to just hunker down in a corner farthest from the lab and keep his gun handy and his wits about him. He takes the softly mewling heroine back to the freezer and then proceeds to walk off the steps to the opposite wall twenty five feet away. Just as he gets halfway, he notices a small gap between the shelving units. There’s a seam in the wall, a door-shaped seam. Sal feels around the edges of the seam but it is too tight, too well inset.

“Do you know what this is? Did he take you over to this before?”

“..huhh..?... oh..uh...no...no...I don’t remember this....” Wonder Woman leans against the corner of the shelf unit and the wall, propped up with her head nodding. She’s on the edge of collapse, her reserves shot.

Sal looks at her with complete frustration. He’s wasting time and he had accomplished nothing, nothing except bringing a super heroine to the brink of collapse.

“Dammit!” He bangs at the wall with the flat of his fist and there’s a loud double click and the door set into the seams pops open. His eyes light up and Wonder Woman’s face goes from slack to surprised.


“Stand there, I’m going to check this out,” Sal says, palm up in a stay position but Wonder Woman shakes her head.

“No! I’m coming....you’re...not going to...leave me.”

“It’s just...oh fine, just wait one second though.” Sal reaches his arm through the gap and slides it up and down against the wall. He finds a light switch and turns it on. Together the two of them go through the opening with extreme caution.

At the top of the grand staircase, Jimmy looks to both sides. On his left is a room with a door open, and on the right is one with a door closed. They are equidistant. He frowns. “Hmm. The lady or the tiger,” he murmurs. Making a quick decision, he walks the fifteen feet to his left with long strides, right to the open door. On the way, he notes the camera overhead and gives it the finger just in case it’s still on.

Yet again, he gets in a set position with his gun pointed up, takes a breath and rushes the room, going low in a running crouch. Eight feet later he’s turned with his back against a desk with his gun pointed behind the door. There’s nothing there but the frame of a broken mirror and shards of glass all around. He’d even crunched one large triangle into a platter of silver cornflakes. Jimmy exhales. No lady, no tiger, no luck. He looks through the open door to the closed one at the far end of the hall thirty feet away.

“No rest for the weary,” he says, walking out of the study and crossing the wide, light green carpet with a number of stains in it, including a burn mark. Jimmy grimaces. Nasty things had gone on in this house. Things that superheroines who could laugh at guns had succumbed to. He doesn’t feel any better with that thought but moves ahead toward the door with his gun ready nevertheless.

The room surrounding Sal and the unsteady Wonder Woman is a smaller version of the storeroom on the other side of the inset door except the shelves aren’t laden with equipment and chemicals. Instead, they contain a huge variety of dry goods including boxes of uncooked pasta, dozens of cans of tuna fish, baked beans and vegetables as well as large sacks of rice, gallon jugs of cooking oil and five-liter boxes of both red and white wine. A small refrigerator stands in one corner and at the other corner is a sink and a two-burner hot plate. On the far side of the room a mattress lays directly on the floor covered with burgundy-colored sheets, matching pillows and a comforter imprinted with huge burgundy and yellow flowers.

“....a bed..!..” The Amazon beauty pulls away from Sal and quickly wavers over to the mattress and literally flops down face forward onto the comforter. “...Hera...this is divine..” she says after forcing herself to turn her face out of the pillow. Her wrists dangle off both sides of the mattress. Her expansive butt cheeks with their rubber sheathing shine in the overhead light. Only the very upper edges are covered by the dress pants tied around her waist. And with her legs spread apart and his pants crushed beneath Wonder Woman’s pelvis, nothing obscures Sal’s view of the famous heroine’s bald pussy. With the access flap shut but not sealed, her heavenly cleft is only slightly obstructed by mist and tiny droplets of condensation and other moisture that clings to the underside of the rubber suit as well as to the wavy fleshy lips beneath. The Champion of All Woman is completely oblivious of her womanly charms being on display for the Italian detective. In fact, in less than 30 seconds Sal can hear her breathing deepen and soft snores wind out of the exhausted heroine.

“Well, I guess you’ve earned that,” Sal says softly. He looks at the heavenly view of beauty personified and restrains himself with a mighty effort of willpower. It takes ever fiber of his being not to go over, lie down beside her and spoon against her with his raging hard-on nestled between those incredibly inviting cheeks. What keeps him from walking over are the bruises on her body, many of them, and poorly healed wounds. Those spur him with a sense of vengeance and he turns to leave the room and find his partner so the two of them can put down this mad dog. He hoped he was in time. He looks down and realizes he’s only wearing his boxer shorts and shakes his head. “Well, at least they’re clean. Mom would be proud.”

When he gets to the door, Sal pulls it open wider to make it easier to leave. This elicits a loud squeak from a hinge rarely opened so rapidly or widely.

“What was that?” Wonder Woman wakes with a start, turns her head and props herself up on her forearms. “Wait...you’re not...leaving?”

“I have to find Jimmy.”

“No! Stay here. You have to! Please... stay here...with me.”

“Diana. I have a duty to my partner.”

“...And...yeah, about my name...how....do you know...me...uhhm..who I am...? You never explained that.. ...my identity...it’s a huge secret....it’s a big deal...”

“This isn’t the time, I have...”

“Look! I just went through hell to protect that identity, mister!” Wonder Woman turns her whole body around and sits in a cross-legged position on the bed. Her anger is shaking her out of her foggy mental state somewhat but she’s still exhausted and every nerve is frayed. “I let that monster fuck me every way to Sunday to protect my secret and now you’re going to go spread it all over town. So I sacrificed myself, shamed myself, gave up my dignity, my honor for nothing! NOTHING!!!” Wonder Woman screams this last word and falls off to her side, stretched across the bed weeping and wailing in near hysteria.

“All over town..? I’d never...Hey! Listen to me, champ, I’ll have you know I can keep a secret with the best of them.”

“Did you tell Jimmy?” She asks, picking her head up and looking over to Sal’s face.


“I knew it!” Diana’s eyes blaze with fury. “I’m screwed for certain. You’ve really done me quite a service today, pal.” The angry princess stands up quickly. Despite all she’s been through, her rubber-clad body looks lean and dangerous as she crosses her arms with one leg planted slightly off to the side, her chin thrust out.

“What?! I saved your life today princess!”

“The day’s not over. You can still screw it up.” Wonder Woman heads for the door. Abato steps in front of her blocking her exit. “What do you think you’re doing,” she asks.

“You shouldn’t leave. You’re in no shape to fight Pascal.”

“I’ll be alright.”

“You won’t. Be reasonable,” he pleads, putting his arms out to fend her off. “Stay here. Recuperate at least for a while.”

“Get out of my way, buster.” The angry beauty goes to brush by him when he takes hold of her wrists and pushes them against her chest, pinning them there and stopping her forward motion. “You don’t want to test me,” she growls. Her blue eyes flash at him with a recognizable haughty imperiousness that he’d seen before. It does his heart good to see it.

“That’s exactly what I want to do,” he says holding her in place.

“So be it, detective.” Wonder Woman twists her wrists counter to his grip and pulls her arms straight out to the side. To her surprise, Abato is able to maintain his hold on her wrists. His arms spread out as wide as hers. He then surprises her by releasing her wrists and encircling her upper torso in his arms. He squeezes her with a crushing bear hug, even going so far as to lift her off her feet and shake her back and forth slightly. His pants tied around her hips flop back and forth with each shake of her body. Her breasts wobble against him. Her ass shimmies wildly in the open air. Her hands grab his biceps and try to push them apart, to break his hold. She can’t do it. “Let go of me, you big lunk!”

“Nope! And I’m being nice. I’m sure the Frenchman, wouldn’t be so easy on you.”

“Easy? How dare you!” The struggling Amazon glowers and puts more effort into her arms, forcing them to push Abato’s arms away from her body. She gets herself a couple of inches relief before they compress against her again, squeezing her hard enough to constrict her breathing a bit. “Oh you stupid brute. Release me.”

“Make me, Princess.” Abato gives her another shake. He’s actually enjoying this. Why wouldn’t he? He’s holding a goddess in a clear rubber catsuit tightly in his arms and feeling the heat of her against his bare chest.

“...I’m trying...” Wriggling and straining with all her might, Wonder Woman cannot break free. Her fragile emotions get the better of her and she begins to whine. “...i...can’t...do it...can’t even...get away...from a mere...cop....” She goes completely slack in his arms, understanding his message and collapsing into a deep well of self-pity as Abato changes his hold, sweeps one arm under her knee and carries her over to the mattress. He kneels down and rests her limp form on the comforter. Wonder Woman curls up into herself as Abato goes around the bed and lies down beside her, spooning her after all.

“You’re staying?” She whimpers, taking hold of the forearms he’s circled around her protectively.

“Jimmy will have to handle this himself for now. I’ll stay here and protect you.”

“Thank you, Sal.” The Champion of All Woman’s tears fall on the hairs of Sal’s forearms as he clutches her body close and they both sigh deeply.

Jimmy Glendennan stands to the side of the tightly-closed second floor door with his back against the wall ready to turn the knob and yet one more time this day assault a target room. He takes a breath and is ready to move when a voice freezes him in place.

“That is you out there, is it not, Detective Glendennan?” Pascal’s tone is light and conversational. Jimmy doesn’t respond, thinking how he should play it. “There is no need to be coy, Jimmy. I know that your partner is no doubt seeing to the Amazon’s welfare while he sends you to do the dangerous dirty work. Always the bridesmaid, never the bride, non? Quel tragedie!”

“I think of it as getting the fun stuff. Like taking you down, Frenchy.”

“But not always, monsieur.”

“We share the load. I don’t have any compl....UUUNNGGHHH!”

The hidden battering ram behind the wall knocks into the small of Jimmy’s back and sends him sprawling across the rug, tumbling and rolling helplessly in agonizing pain. When he finally comes to a stop against the wall, one foot is over his head against the wall, the other is bent underneath him and his head is on the light green carpet. Glendennan’s eyes have rolled back behind the lids. A deep resonant moan escapes the Irishman’s lips.


The door to the second floor bedroom opens and Rene Pascal saunters out. He is jovial, with a bounce in his step.

“Tch, tch. Poor little broken cop. I hope your spine isn’t permanently ruined . Can you wiggle your toes in those shoes of yours, officer?”

Very dazed and disoriented, Jimmy does try to wiggle his toes after a long 20 seconds as his adversary just stands over him assessing the damage. He can’t do it and he moans in distress and fear.

Is this it? Am I really paralyzed? Man, this sucks!

“Was that a yes or a no, Jimbo? I could not tell. Your verbalization was quite garbled.”


“Well, I would have to say that it is you who is fucked, Officer Jim. But you can take some solace in the fact that Wonder Woman fell for the very same trap earlier today. Puts you in excellent company, n’est ce pas?”

Pascal squats down beside the tangled form of the detective and pulls the limp body into a semblance of order, flat on his back with legs straight out and his arms close to his sides. The defenseless cop is too dazed and immobilized to even resist being neatly arranged like some stuffed animal.

“I wonder if your partner will be coming to your rescue any time soon, Detective? As do you, I am sure. This is a bit of a pickle as you Americans like to say. Hmmm, perhaps a SWAT team will come charging in like the cavalry. That would be glorious for you, yes. To have your life saved by your armored fellow boys in blue. Too bad it will be too late though,” Pascal declares as he rolls up the sleeve of Jimmy’s striped dress shirt.

The befuddled and numbed cop can do nothing but watch in horror as his stunned spine keeps him from defending himself in any way. Taking a cotton ball and a syringe with a protective cap from the side pocket of his suit jacket, Pascal removes the cap and rubs the alcohol-filled cotton ball on the prone man’s inner forearm.

“I don’t want you to get any nasty infections, Jim. Oh, by the way, this is a very lethal poison, detective. It will kill you in about ten minutes but its victims usually lose consciousness in half the time.” The squatting man carefully injects the solution into Jimmy’s limp arm and then draws the needle out and replaces the cap. He then replaces the syringe in his pocket. “It is not terribly painful but its effects are quite permanent. You should not have gone up against me, Jimmy. And your partner never should have let you do it alone for the sake of that fat cow’s virtue. I will attend to both of them immediately. I did not enjoy being interrupted at the height of my pleasure.”

“...really...it was our...pleasure...f...frenchy...”

“So droll, officer,” Pascal smirks openly. “So witty...for a dead man. Adieu, you dumb mick.”

Pascal stands up and hesitates for a moment, making a decision. After his pause, he turns and heads down the main staircase, forgoing the noise of the elevator. He wants to catch the Italian cop and the Amazon slut unaware. He wonders where they might be and if he should just make his escape. Thinking he was so close to achieving his main goal of the past decade, Pascal grimaces, ready to take on the challenge no matter what.

With Pascal having walked off and the immediate threat of instant death put aside, Jimmy relaxes a bit, drifting in and out of consciousness. Then Pascal’s words seep down into his consciousness and jerk him awake. Poison was in his system and he was running out of time. He tries and finds he can move his arms and he reaches into his pants pocket, awkwardly fumbling out his cell phone. He drifts for a full ten seconds before his head jerks and he remembers his assignment. Focusing with all the energy he can muster, he looks at the phone’s screen and pulls up his contact list. He presses one button and then another, hearing the phone connect his call. After one ring, Dispatch answers.

“...c...carla...itz Jimmy G...get SWAT here...now....and a medical team...I’ve been poisoned....”

“I’m sending them to you, Jimmy. Hang in there. Don’t you dare d...” Carla pulls herself together. “Don’t give up, officer. Stay strong.”

“...will do...disppaattcchh....” Jimmy’s vision fades to blackness as he falls into forever.