Tracking Down Leads
The frying pan, bent in the middle flew across the room when the mook shook his mechanical-augmented arm.
“I just bought that!”
Puddles was positive she heard him form a metallic fist. Ducking under his powerful swing, Puddles rolled past the mook, popping up she fumbled with her holster. The mook pivoted much faster than she expected, wired to the gills no doubt she thought, and kicked her in the chest, knocking her against the wall. Her breath explosively left her lungs, leaving her holding out a paw, the other wrapped around her chest, and gasping for air.
The mook did not wait; grasping her outstretched arm, with a single yank he threw her to the opposite side of the room over the desk, scattering office supplies. Rolling to a stop amongst office supplies and her cup of coffee, Puddles tried to stand, still gasping for air. With two long strides he grabbed the desk and threw the desk at her, his aim off the desk exploded against the wall, showering her with desk parts. Puddles scrambled away from the wall, fumbling with her holster and looking for something, anything to give her an edge.
Mook grabbed her ankle, but before he could get a good grip, Puddles slipped her foot out of the boot and rolled onto her back as she drew her pistol. Her first shot blew her boot up; that he reflexively threw at her, her second and third shots put large holes in his thigh and gut. With a monstrous backhand, he knocked her pistol out of her paws. Puddles scooted backwards as he fell to one knee. Her paws landed on the familiar shape of her frying pan she swung with as much force as she could, cracking the mook across the face rocking his head to the side.
For a brief second she thought he was going to continue the fight; then he fell over onto his side. Puddles sat down against a wall. One breath, two, and three. Other than breath the mook had not moved. Standing, she retrieved her pistol and searched the mook; bingo, she mentally cheered pulling an identcase from a pocket. She waved his identcard over her watch accessing public data, nothing other than a name and top-level membership with emergency services. Before leaving the office, she punched in an emergency and dropped his identcard by his head.
“Figures,” she said to herself.
Looking at the frying pan, bent and nothing she could do about that, even better the person she wanted to see was gone. Empty office, at least this desk was intact, she thought ruefully. Puddles sat down and pulled up the holo-monitor.
“Let’s see what the good doctor was hiding.”