<span style="font-weight: bold">Amber Littman</span><br/><br/>The huge man's deep voice reaches my ears in a driving crescendo, like the fade-in at the beginning of some trashy song. I open my eyes slowly, blinking up at his blurred form; his punch landed me on the cold pavement, and now the bastardâ€™s leering over me. His face is twisted and menacing. "-tell me, bitch!" he's screaming. "Tell me what they want or I'll ruin your pretty face."<br/><br/>â€œI don't...â€ I mumble. He kicks my side brutally, and I gasp sharply at the sudden pain radiating through my ribs, down my spine.<br/><br/>â€œWe know Kaiser and Julius have got Cross following someone," he snarls. "So who is it?â€<br/><br/>â€œI don't know what you're talking about.â€<br/><br/>"<span style="font-style: italic">Who is it?</span>" he accentuates every word with another blow.<br/><br/>"They didn't tell me!" I shriek, tears streaming down my temples and into my hair. He reaches down and  pulls me up by the collar of my leather jacket, then pins me forcefully to the wall of the nightclub.<br/><br/>"One last chance, princess," he says, his face so close to mine I can see all the rough details in his poorly inked tattoos and smell his sour breath. I can't restrain my broken sobs.<br/><br/>"Dumont," I finally choke out. "Cross is following some politician named Pierre Dumont."<br/><br/>"Why? Tell me why." When I don't reply he strikes me savagely across the face again, and for a second time white and black flowers bloom across my vision. My head spins woozily, and I think I'm going to pass out again, when someone's yell echoes down the alley. I look to see a figure silhouetted against the yellow glow of dim street lights at the mouth of the alley, their thin body lowered in an offensive stance. With a rush of relief I understand that whoever it is must be trying to save me, but then I realize that the massive creep attacking me is going to hand them their ass on a platter.<br/><br/>I'm wrong. The man sizes up the figure at the end of the alley, glares back at me, then decides it's not worth it. With a grunt he lets me drop to the ground and heels it out of the alley - in the opposite direction of whoever-it-is. I watch him go, trembling.<br/><br/>After a moment I shakily pull myself onto my feet, my breath catching as each movement tears at my ribs. I stumble slowly towards the person at the end of the alley, using the wall to support myself. It's the first time I've ever in my life regretted wearing Jimmy Choos.<br/><br/>Finally, I reach the street, coming face to face with a man boasting flaming pink hair. â€œThanks for that,â€ I say. â€œIâ€™m glad he didnâ€™t kill you.â€<br/><br/><br/><span style="font-weight: bold">Gabriel Cross</span><br/><br/>Dumont is into some pretty freaky shit.<br/><br/>It's excellent really. Neko prostitutes are exactly the sort of thing people pay me to know about. Red and her coke dealers are going to eat it up. The guy's good though. He's upped his muscle since I started following him, so he's obviously clued in about my company, invisible or not. The extra security sure as hell doesn't stop me, but it is irritating. Tonight it's even hindering.<br/><br/>Tailing Dumont into his office<span style="font-style: italic">building</span>was easy enough, but getting into his actual<span style="font-style: italic">office</span>proved more challenging. As soon as Dumont got through the door one of his bodyguards blocked it, and since then he's moved only once, to let a young guy and the neko hooker through. I didn't have a chance to get in either time, so now I'm stuck in the hall, trying to come up with a way to kill the guard and sneak in without killing all traces of secrecy and covertness along with him.<br/><br/>A few minutes after the guy and the neko enter the office, the elevator bell chimes again, and a huge man with tattoos covering his face storms out. I leap out of his way as he charges down the hall towards the door guard.<span style="font-style: italic">That's one crazy-ass prostitute,</span>I think. But then without missing a fricking beat he reaches out and wrenches the surprised looking guard's neck. He smashing through the door as the guard collapses on the ground. He tears into the office, yelling something in a gargled tone I can't understand.<br/><br/>I dart in after him. He brushes off the scrambled men in the reception area of the office, plunging into the inner office; the place with Dumont's desk and crap.<br/><br/>He seems to be in a thundering, murderous rage, but as he enters the smaller room he stops short. "Keet?" he growls. "What the hell?"<br/><br/>He looks at the desk, upon which lies copious lengths of rope and nearly as much liquor, then between Dumont and the neko, eyes widening in comprehension. "What the hell?" he repeats, then glowering at the neko: "Does the Boss know you're here?!"