Mob-Girl 4
By Dru



Maple street lacked any of the trees implied by the name. Perhaps once there
had been a few, maybe even a lot, but now there was no room for trees. This
was the kind of place that bred men like Carlos the Breaker. On either side
the street six storey apartments rose morosely into the sky, the heights to
which they reached rarely varied. The colours, thought modern and trendy when
the builders first finished, where now considered sombre and unattractive. But
the people here were very colourful. Their clothes were bright and cheerful,
many faces smiled. This place was good to those who knew how to live here.
Those who knew how to mind their own business and pay their bills.

Halfway along one the crowded blocks stood a building that blended smoothly
with the surrounds. But if anyone were bored enough to stand on the street and
watch the activity taking place, they would soon spot the difference. The
stream of people going in and out the front door was endless. No more than two
minutes passed by before someone went through the door. Someone with enough
time on their hands might notice that the group of five young men gathered out
on the steps never left the spot, unlike the other inhabitants here who moved
about so hurriedly. However, someone with too much time on their hands might
stick around long enough to the young men move. It might be the last thing
they remember seeing before waking up in a hospital days or weeks later...or
never at all. Attention was not welcome here.

The five men on door duty were paid well for their services, not despite their
lack of social skills...but because of them. In the last year thirteen people
had been hospitalised. Three others had never left the basement. While Carlos
the Breaker rotted in prison, the body of his business interests decaying with
him, Steve "Grim" Winkler was building a reputation for himself. And he was
making his bank balance healthy at the same time.

The protection money that Carlos had once collected at the end of each month
now went straight into Winkler's pockets. The heroin and cocaine was cheaper
from the Chinese, and Grim grew his own hydro: Four apartments wall to wall
with green gold. There were other expenses though. His small army of thugs was
not cheap, but essential if he was to survive. Steve Winkler was no fool. He
knew that Kirkland would put a price on his head, with or without word from
his boss. So Grim had made his home in this humble apartment block and turned
it into a fort. A fort where you could buy anything and everything illegal.

Anything they could make themselves on site they did. The Chinese now supplied
the harder stuff...the stuff Carlos had shipped into Metropolis direct from
contacts in Colombia for the last ten years. The stuff Carlos had built his
empire with...though he had distanced himself from the fact and blossomed into
other, more respectable, methods of making money. Like racketeering and
gambling.

Five heads turned as a long black limo pulled up. If any of them had been
around twelve months ago they would have recognised the car immediately. Only
the guy looking down from the third storey window knew who the limo
represented. The man in the window turned and spoke to his boss.

"Guess who's here, Grim."

"No way! Already?"

"Don't worry about it, man," Grim's best gunman assured him, waving his hand
out the window. "There's only one car."

Grim broke into an uncharacteristic fit of laughter. "This is too easy! If I
take him out, that'll really put us in the big leagues. No-one will fuck with
me if I break the Breaker." Then he was Grim again. "Go get the boys
together."

The ride through town was a nervous one. Breaker had insisted on taking his
limo, and he had a reason. Kirkland, Rudall and the driver all told him one of
the vans would be safer...cops would undoubtable be looking for him. The long
black limo had become his icon. It was all most people saw of Carlos Lahey.
And that's exactly why he wanted to take it. Carlos didn't want ambitious scum
like Grim Winkler shaking in fear at the thought of what 'Mob-Girl' might do
to them. He wanted them quivering in fear at the thought of what Carlos the
Breaker would tell Mob-Girl to do to them. He wanted his limo seen everywhere
they went today.

Emily looked at the building where the car had stopped. Checking out all the
people on the street, she was quickly drawn to the five guys eyeing the limo
off suspiciously from the steps leading to the main door.

"I feel sick," Rudall admitted. "We should have brought more people."

"I can only see five," Emily told him scornfully.

"Five out here," Kirkland told her. "Only the pay master knows for sure how
many guys are inside."

Realising he was right, Emily proceeded to look through the walls and explore
the building and count the number of men who were armed. She searched every
room of every floor in the time it took Rudall to light one a Marlboro and
take a puff.

"There are twenty-seven guys with uzis under their jackets," she observed.
"Twelve with shotguns as well as uzis, and thirteen guys working the labs."
Smiling at the confused faces of those in the car with her, Emily added:
"Trust me."

"I think they're coming over now," the driver mentioned. The five thugs on the
steps were all on their feet now, all of them trying to see through the
effectively tinted windows.

"Wait here guys," Emily told the experienced criminals in her company. She was
slowly getting better at not damaging everything she touched, and managed to
get out of the car and close the door without breaking anything.

The five guys instantly lost their aggressive stance and gaped at her. They
had seen beautiful women before...but there was something about the curves
their eyes were tracing that was profoundly attractive. Something about the
gleam of her flesh that mesmerised the small-time hoods.

Emily had expected them to attack her. Instead they were just staring at her
with wide eyes, their pants stretched...one of them even drooling. She had
always been pretty. But Emily had never seen men react to her like this. She
found it very rewarding to realise that just the sight of her casually clothed
body could have such an impact on these foolish wannabe mobsters.

"Hello," she greeted them, adding a threatening tone to her voice. She was
thinking about blasting them into ashes with her eyes when she decided to take
them out with her hands. She wanted to feel them crumble under her hands.
Crossing the distance between her and her prey with deliberately exaggerated
movements of her hips.

The party of thugs made no attempt to avoid her. In fact, they moved forward
to get closer. They had no idea of the danger they were in. In the past the
five of them had taken down some very big boys together. Three of them had
black-belts in various martial arts, and the other two pure street-fighters.
What could they possibly have to fear from a girl?

"Whatever you want, Babe, Tony's got it for you," one of them said,
introducing himself with an air of confidence.

"Do you guys know who I am?" she asked, stopping directly in front of the
speaker and looking into his dope-reddened eyes.

"I know you're the best thing I've seen all day, sweetie."

Emily enjoyed the look of lust in his eyes for a moment, putting her hand on
her chest to draw his eyes there. Not the needed much assistance.

"You've never seen anything as good as me," Emily informed him.

There was a low electric whine from the limo as a window slid down to reveal
Carlos. "Get one with it," he told her, "We didn't come here so you could pick
up guys."

A little annoyed by her fathers interruption to her fun, Emily turned back to
the one called Tony, and jabbed her little fist into his face. Even though she
hadn't put any shoulder into it, the force of her blow was still a little
extreme. Tony's head exploded like a hand-grenade, calcium based shrapnel
peppered the stonework and shattered a few windows. As the dead man fell, his
legs dropping straight out from under him. Two of the others had been hit by
the pieces of skull, and they joined him half a second later to lie
motionless...motionless except for the blood oozing from warlike wounds.

Watching the other two expectantly, Emily was disappointed. They were utterly
stunned, and incapable of thought let alone movement. Taking one, and then the
other, by the chin, she lifted them and held them a foot off the ground.

"Nothing personal," she told them, shattering their skulls against each other
and dropping them unceremoniously onto the bodies of their friends.

The guy who had been watching from the window hadn't stuck around long enough
to see the five 'security' guards taken out. But the two snipers who had been
ordered to the roof saw the whole thing. They were too confused by the whole
thing to realise that the smartest thing to do would be to warn everyone else
on Grim's pay-roll, then make a hasty exit. As it was they both fell back on
their combat training, and opened fire.

Emily felt something like a raindrop on her cheek. Then another on the left
side of her forehead. She looked up, but there weren't enough clouds to make
rain. Then she saw a flash on the roof, and felt another drop tickle her
chest. A second flash preceded another wet impact on her chest. Looking down,
Emily saw that something had torn her shirt and left a smear on her breast.
While she was watching another hole was torn in her clothes, another metallic
smear appeared on her flesh.

"They're shooting at me!" she realised, a smile forming on her face as more
bullets rained down on her. "I could get used to this," Emily thought aloud,
leaping up into air and hovering before the confused gunmen. She watched as
another bullet came tearing toward her, contacting her neck and rebounding
down to the street.

"That's enough of that," Emily old them, looking hard at one and then the
other. Leaving the remains of the snipers smouldering on the roof, Emily
allowed gravity take her gently back to the sidewalk.

Carlos was getting out, Kirkland and Rudall not far behind him. Everyone had
their guns out. Both of Breaker's boys were staring at her in open amazement.
They had been more than a little sceptical of what the newspaper had revealed
to the world that morning, but not a trace of doubt remained.

"Shall I go in and clear the way?" she suggested, already walking up the
steps.

"Are the guys on the roof?"

"They were pretty much already there."

"Good. That asshole's not getting away. Tell them to shoot anyone who leaves
until I give the all clear."

The best paid of Grim's thugs picked the handheld radio up off the table.
"Snip and Cut, you there?" he asked it, pushing the button as he spoke.
Waiting a moment for a reply, he tried again. "Something's not right, Grim.
They don't answer."

Suddenly, a loud crash echoed through the building, and floor shook. Then a
far-away scream, followed by another, tore through the halls to reach them
through three floors. The floor vibrated again, and Grim looked about in
confusion.

"What the fuck are they using? Grenade launchers?"

"Wait here, Boss. I'll check it out." Grabbing his gun from the holder under
his arm, the determined killer opened the apartment door just as the familiar
sound of Uzi's going off like popcorn. He sent the two guys on Grim's door
inside to guard the Boss, then took off toward the stairs. He got down three
flights faster than the elevator would have managed, his sure feet not missing
a beat. On the ground floor he entered the hall and was astonished at what he
found. The twenty men he'd sent down to greet them were scattered everywhere.
Some of them were just legs gangling from jagged holes in the wall. Most of
them were just legs...or arms. Only two bodies appeared to be whole, though
both of them were twisted up like pretzels. The walls had been a pale shade of
green the last time anyone had bothered to notice. But now the floor, ceiling
and walls were all red.

Tearing his eyes away from the horrific scene, the brave gunman took a few
steps and threw up his expensive buffet breakfast. A shotgun blast and painful
scream from somewhere upstairs brought him back to his senses just in time to
see three men walking through the front door. He recognised all three of them
instantly, and his colt came up to point shakily their way.

"Breaker..." he snarled, and his finger closed on the trigger. The reliable
handgun kicked back I his hand, and Carlos ducked vainly to the side.

His lips were twitching up into a smile when there was strong breeze and
something flashed past him. As the blur of colour came to rest it blocked the
gunman's view of his target. When he focused on this sudden intrusion, he
stepped back. He recognised Emily from the photo he had seen in the paper, but
found that the portrait hardly did her justice. He, along with everyone he'd
spoken to about it, had dismissed the story as bullshit. But as he saw the
bullet drop from Emily Lahey's hand and land on the floor he quickly came to
believe every word.

Emily strode up to the dumbfounded man, and put a hand on his chest. With just
the movement of her arm she lifted and pinned him high to the wall. The
helpless killer tried to say something, perhaps to plead for his life, but the
increasing pressure of her feminine little hand made it impossible to breath
let alone talk.

"Now, why would you want to shoot at my dad?" she asked, tilting her head.
Pushing forward she forced her hand through his ribcage, and the wall behind
him while she watched his face contort in agony then go blank. Pulling her arm
out of the tight fitting hole, she let him slide to the floor. She'd been a
little put off by all the blood that splattered during the course of events.
But since her clothes were already ruined by bullets she wasn't worried about
the new colour.

Grim was growing increasingly nervous, though no one could have guessed from
his steely composure. The sounds of screams and short bursts of gunfire were
getting louder by the moment. Then was a crash outside in the hall. The action
was just outside his door.

"I'm not going to wait in here for them!" Grim decided, checking his Uzi and
grabbing a few extra clips to shove in pocket. The two bodyguards he had with
him were sweating profusely. "Let's sort this out," Grim told them firmly,
stepping up to the door. Reaching out, he turned the handle slowly and pulled
the door open with a jerk. His gun filled the hall with bullets as he stepped
through the threshold. His two henchmen followed quickly after to flank him
and add their own rapid lead to the Grim's firepower.

"You owe me a new set of clothes, loser."

The trio ceased firing and took a good look at their bullets had done. They
had destroyed the hallway quite thoroughly, and filled the room with a smoky
haze. In the middle of the hallway stood a woman. A completely naked woman who
had been dressed in bloody rags a moment before. Grim was aroused by her body,
though he found himself instinctively repulsed by the blood all over her arms.

"What the fuck?" Grim stepped back involuntarily.

"Why don't we go into your apartment?" the blood smeared woman suggested. The
trio replied with a renewed onslaught of reliable bullets, and this time they
knew exactly where to aim. The woman only smiled, her hands going to hips.
Then she puckered her lips and blew very softly. The force of her breath
lifted the men and tossed them back with explosive force. The two on the
outside crumpled on either side of the door while Grim landed on his carpet
and rolled another ten feet into his lounge-room.

As she passed the two moaning men near the door, Emily lifted them up in each
hand and tossed them over her back down the hall. They flew, limbs flailing,
until they hit the roof and crashed back down to slid along the floor. Neither
one moved again.

Grim desperately whipped out his pistol, having lost the Uzi in-flight, and
squeezed off a few rounds. The disbelief on his face as her flesh repelled the
lead clearly amused his super-powered attacker. She approached, slow enough
that had time to empty his clip, and grasped his gun. When her hand moved away
Grim looked at his gun. She had squeezed the barrel closed.

"All-clear, Dad!" she called out.

Carlos the Breaker walked in. But the sudden appearance of the man Grim had
feared all his life didn't draw his eyes away from the woman standing over
him.

"Hello there, Grim. How's it hanging?"

Carlos looked around, nodding with approval. "Nice place. I see you've been
spending my money well."

"I..."

"Don't talk, Winkler. I don't want to hear you beg." Carlos looked the fallen
man over. "Impressive, isn't she? You've met Emily, haven't you Grim?"

Recognition sparked in Grim's eyes. He had gone to school a year ahead of
Breaker's daughter, and had seen here more recently at company parties. His
disbelief intensified.

"I think you know why this happening, Winkler. So I won't waste my time
lecturing you."

Taking the satisfaction fro himself, Carlos lifted his gun laden hand and
fired three shots into Grim's legs. Expressing his anger, Carlos emptied the
rest of the gun into Winkler's stomach and held his hand toward Rudall. Rudall
knew what his boss wanted, and handed over his gun. Carlos emptied this one
into Grim's chest, and finished off with a cap through the forehead.

"Time we were going," Kirkland observed without looking at his watch. "The
cops will be here any minute.

"Like that's a problem," Emily reminded everyone, crossing her arms on her
chest.

"Let's go, just he same," said Carlos, holstering his gun and giving Rudall
back his piece. "We've got more people to see today."

Looking at herself, Emily was disgusted at the state she was in.

"I'll catch up," she told them. "I'm going to get cleaned up."

Without waiting for a reply, or asking where they were going, Emily lifted
both feet and flew through the closed window of Grim's apartment.