"I just don't get it, Josiah," Buck sighed. "I mean, I've known plenty of women who were full of fire, but I just can't see a woman doing what this Stalker has done."

"A lot of people have a hard time seeing women as being capable of any kind of violence, much less this level, but it doesn't mean they aren't," Josiah chided.

"True, but still some of the people this Stalker killed, the way they were killed...most women just don't have that kind of strength," Nathan pointed out.

"As you said, 'most' women do not and this one might not either. From what I saw in the file I'm not entirely convinced that she was working alone on the first couple of murders."

"Great!" Buck lowered his voice when one of the guards looked at them. "You mean to tell JD's been taken by not one, but two psychopaths?"

"No. I said it looked like there was an accomplice on the first three murders. The first three targets were all men, all connected to Sybil Deveraux in some way. It wasn't until her murder that the nursery rhymes began to appear at the scene of the crimes and she was the first one to be sexually assaulted."

"Not following what you're saying, pard."

"Sybil Deveraux was the Stalker's first true target, but even she was just a means to get to John Harrington, a man with more than a few indiscretions in his past."

"Including Sybil Deveraux and his second wife."

"Exactly," Josiah nodded to Nathan.

"So, what, this Stalker is one of Harrington's old affairs? Doesn't explain going after the men, those kids, and with such brutality. And why not any of his other affairs?"

"All good questions. I can only guess that at some point he had either proposed marriage or perhaps seriously discussed it with the Stalker but instead chose to marry another. The rhyme found with the children said 'the false family'. She may have felt she was supposed to be the mother of his 'true' children. It's even possible that she'd become pregnant with his child but because of timing and circumstances he chose to discontinue the relationship and then married another."

"A woman scorned is not something you want to mess with. I get that, but still..." Buck sighed and shook his head. He glanced at Josiah. "She didn't take JD too long before these yahoos took over the hotel. Do you think maybe they were caught up in the sweep and he's safe?"

"I hope so, Buck. I really hope so."

They all settled back against the wall saying their own silent prayers, hoping they weren't fool's prayers.

*******

Calla strode into the presidential suite completely ignoring the dozen or so guns that were cocked and aimed at her. Jericho trailed behind her, still dabbing at the bleeding cut on his cheek. Her imperious gaze swept the room until it landed on the only man not pointing a gun at her.

"Are you the one in charge here?"

"That depends on who's asking and why," he answered with a sardonic smile.

"Y'all have interrupted the plans of revenge I have spent the past seven years crafting to perfection," her sugar-coated Southern drawl did little to hide the hard edge to her voice. "Now I really don't care why y'all are here, but seeing as this forces me to change my plans I think it best we work together. This way we can both achieve what we want."

"Really?" Moran laughed. "And why should I care what you think or want?"

Calla folded her arms over her chest, her smile chilling as she regarded them with dead emotionless eyes. "Because you do not wish to be on my bad side. By the time I'm done there's usually not much left of them or those they care for."

Jericho edged his way around her to cross to Moran. She reminded him of a cobra he'd seen on some wild animal documentary, all coiled and ready to strike if you pissed it off. He sidled up to his boos, keeping a wary eye on her. "Captain, sir? She may seem like a cocky bitch, but I'd lay money on her bein' cold-blooded enough to do it. I found her beating some kid she had strung up by his wrists in the boiler room. Poor bastard is positioned right in front of a steam vent that's timed to release around six o'clock this afternoon. He'll be boiled alive inside of five minutes. I'm not sure he's the one she's even brassed off at."

"He's not," Calla said sweetly. "He is simply the first pawn to tumble before I reach the king. Now do you want my help or not?"

"And just how is it you're going to help me, little lady?" Moran asked leaning nonchalantly against the table they'd setup their communications on. Calla smiled slyly as she wandered around the room, her fingers trailing seductively across the chests of the men she passed.

"I've been studying the man I'm after for years now, and," she turned from the man she stood in front of to face Moran, "I've studied his friends. ATF Team Seven from Denver. Fierce men. Loyal men. All of whom have their weaknesses. Weaknesses I know how to exploit. Those men are one of the real dangers you face. Certainly not the cops outside."

"You said one of the dangers. What else do you think is a danger to us?"

"Oh. That would be me."

With the swiftness of a striking cobra Calla whirled on the man behind her. One hand curved into a claw raked across his face before she rammed the heel of her other hand into his solar plexus. An elbow between the shoulder blades knocked him to the floor. She relieved him of his rifle. After quickly and efficiently checking it she leveled it at Moran.

"I can be a dangerous enemy," Calla paused to switch on the safety and toss it to him, "or a powerful ally. The choice is yours."

"Get him out of here," Moran ordered tossing the rifle to one of his men. "What's your name?"

"I've gone by so many over the years. Call me Calla."

"So, Calla, who is this man you're looking for?"

Calla pulled a fairly recent photo out of her pocket and showed it to him. "His name is Ezra Standish. An undercover agent. He used to work for the FBI but now works for the ATF. He is my husband-to-be."

Moran looked at her sharply. "You're hunting your fiancé?"

"Ezra is...currently unaware of our...engagement," she said with another falsely sweet smile. "I intend to remedy that fact."

"I see. I take it you'd like my men to retrieve him for you?"

"Seeing as how you've ruined all of my other carefully laid plans that would be appreciated." She pulled another photo from her pocket. "The remaining five men in this picture should be shot on sight."

"Tanner," Moran growled looking at the photo. "All except him. I want him alive."

"Ooo. Have plans for him, do we?" Call a grinned evilly. "I hope they're fun."

"They will be," he said returning her grin, then nodded at the photo. "What about the boy? He's been eliminated already?"

"Might as well be. He's the one I have hanging down in the boiler room."

Jericho shuddered at the total lack of remorse he saw in the madwoman's eyes. That wasn't a death he would wish on anyone.

"Works for me." Moran shrugged. "Anderson. Greaves. Tompkins. Find this Standish and bring him back here."

"Unharmed," Calla added. "I don't want to see a single bruise on him."

The three men selected nodded and quickly filed out of the door. Jericho slipped out behind them, ignoring the two men carrying in an unconscious blonde man. He wouldn't be able to get the kid out of the hotel, but he could make sure he didn't boil to death.

"Ah, good. Lieutenant Malloy has joined us," Moran grinned when he saw the blonde man being drug in. "Put him in the chains on that wall and then wake him. Torturing someone is no fun if they're passed out. Don't you agree, my dear?"

"Oh, indeed. What's the point of making someone bleed if you can't hear them scream?" She licked her lips in obvious arousal.

"My, my. You are indeed a woman after my own heart." Moran chuckled. The laughter quickly died. Once the guards had shackled Trent's arms they'd held smelling salts beneath his nose. He was disoriented for a few seconds but soon took advantage of his legs not being bound. Trent kicked one in the stomach then managed to get his legs wrapped around another man's neck.

Calla darted in and plunged a thin dagger into Trent's upper right thigh making him scream and lose his hold on the guard. As the guard stumbled away Moran followed up with a hard punch to Trent's stomach knocking the air out of him.

"Bind his legs, you idiots," Moran growled, "and leave the knife in there as a reminder." Spinning around he moved to stand over the man at their communications table. "I want updates now! Where is Ellison and Tanner?"

"Y-yes, sir. All retrieval units report in with status updates."

"This is RU1, targets 1 and 2 are not here. Repeat, 1 and 2 are not here."

"Copy that. RU2, any luck?"

"Negative. We've searched our floors and they are not here."

"RU3?"

"We have two more rooms to search, but we emptied these floors earlier. I doubt we're going to find them."

"God-damned bastards! Why the hell aren't they in the hotel?! That's it. Get me Banks on the phone now!"

"Sir?"

"Captain Banks. The police, you idiot."

"Yes, sir. Right away, sir."

Moran turned away looking towards Trent and Calla who was eyeing him like a work of art. She gave Moran an impish smile when she saw him watching.

"Mind if I play with him a little?" she asked, producing another dagger.

"Go ahead, but I want him alive when I finally get my hands on Ellison and Tanner."

"Oh, don't worry. I just want to make him bleed a little. There are ever so many places I can cut him that won't kill him. Would you like to know what those places are, kitten?" She smiled as she used the dagger to cut open his t-shirt, leaving his chest exposed. Trent gritted his teeth as she made the first shallow cut over his collarbone. Calla pouted at him. "Come now, kitten. I want to hear you scream."

She made another shallow cut along his ribs. Trent refused to scream. Moran just sat back to watch the show.

*******

Simon chewed on his unlit cigar as he stared at the hotel across the street. The Sunrise Patriots were really starting to be a serious pain in his ass. The only good thing about this whole thing was for once his son Daryl wasn't around to be used as a hostage.

A good thing too he supposed that Jim and Vin weren't in the hotel. He had to wonder though how long before Moran figured it out. Probably soon. An hour had passed since they took over the hotel.

"Captain Banks, sir?"

"Yeah?" Simon turned towards the young officer approaching him.

"The terrorists, sir. They'd like to talk to you, sir."

"I just bet. You know who Captain Taggart is?

"Yes, sir."

"Good. Find him and ask him to get me Det. Ellison on the phone."

"Right away, sir."

Simon made his way quickly to the S.W.A.T. communications van. Lt. Jacobs handed him the phone.

"This is Captain Banks. Who am I speaking with?"

"Why don't we cut to the chase, Banks. I know who you are and you know who I am. I want Ellison and Tanner."

"You know I can't do that."

"Yes, you can and you will."

"Really. And how can you be so sure?"

"Watch the front doors of the hotel. I didn't want to kill these people but they fought my men. If Ellison and Tanner aren't standing on the front steps of this hotel in one hour I will execute someone. In two hours I will execute two more people, and so on. Oh, and just to give Ellison and Tanner a little bit of incentive there's someone you should talk to."

There was a brief moment of silence then, "Captain Banks?"

"Malloy? Are you alright?"

"Been better, sir. Keep them out. Don't let them come in. Don't worr..."

A muffled grunt cut off Trent and then Moran was back. "Always was too damned noble for his own good. One hour, Banks. One hour. Oh, and if you’re thinking of trying to send SWAT in here or do something else equally ‘heroic’ I would like to point out that I have enough explosives planted around this building to level an entire city block."

Simon glared at the phone when all he got was a dial tone. Lt. Jacobs stiffened besides him.

"We've got movement at the door."

Sure enough the front doors of the hotel had opened and several armed men came out. The sight of what followed them set a cold rage burning in Simon's gut. "Nobody fire! I repeat, nobody fire."

They all watched as what looked to be several hostages carried out four bodies. The dead were laid out carefully on the ground a good distance from the doors then the hostages were quickly herded back inside.

"Goddamn bastard," Simon snarled. "Send men in to retrieve those people. High alert."

"Of course, sir." Jacobs gestured to several people before heading towards the front of the police barricade. Joel arrived then, cell phone in hand.

"I've got Jim on the phone."

"Good. Ellison? How close are you guys?"

"We'll be at the hotel in ten minutes."

"Alright. I need you and Tanner to stay out of sight. Moran knows you're not in the hotel or here and I want to keep it that way."

”Trent?”

Simon sighed. “He’s alive, but that’s about all I can tell you.”

“It’ll have to do. We’ll pull into the alleyway behind the diner that’s right there. There’s access off of 130^th St. We can set up a base of operations in there without worrying about being seen.”

“That’ll work. I’ll have it cleared out now. See you in a few minutes.” Clicking the end button, he turned to Joel. “I want that diner there cleared of civilians. Then get Connors, Rafe, Henri, and Carlos in there.”

“I’m on it.”

Simon turned to the men in the SWAT van. “Do we have schematics for the hotel yet?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. I want them and the bomb squad in that diner in five minutes.”

“Yes, sir.”

Simon turned back to the hotel, face grim. He was getting too old for this shit.

*******

Trent choked back a scream as Calla drew a line with the dagger point along the underside of his bicep. It wouldn't hurt so much except that most of his weight was resting on his arms chained above his head. When the door to the suite opened distracting Calla he never felt so relieved. That relief quickly turned to dread when an unconscious Ezra was dragged in.

"You found him!" Calla squealed like a little girl, bouncing over to the them. Slipping a hand under Ezra's chin, she lifted his face so she could see him. "I said unmarked, you halfwits!"

She moved with deadly accuracy, slicing the throat of one guard. The second almost suffered the same fate but moved fast enough that she only got a glancing blow on his shoulder. Before she could try again Moran grabbed her arm.

"As exciting as your bloodthirstiness is I need these men alive. Your man there just has some bruising, certainly nothing life-threatening."

She snarled softly yanking her arm from his grasp turning to the guard still holding Ezra. "Take him into that bedroom and tie him to a chair. Think you can handle that?"

The man gritted his teeth obviously wanting to say something but wisely remained silent. He just nodded doing as she'd ordered.

Calla sauntered after them, daintily licking at the blood on her dagger. Inside the bedroom she'd indicated she found a straight-backed chair with no arms and had the guard tie Ezra to it. When Ezra was settled to her liking she snapped, "Out."

The guard was more than happy to leave the room, almost feeling sorry for whatever she had planned for the poor bastard. Almost.

With a twisted smirk Calla hung the Do Not Disturb sign on the doorknob before closing and locking it. She then turned back to her captive. Smiling wickedly, she walked around him enjoying the sight.

"Oh, we're going to have so much fun, my love. You're going to give me what I want and I'll make you forget all about that bitch."

Part 17