The Lady In Black Leather Suit

Peeking through the blinds, Emily trailed the outside world with her beady brown eyes. The cars swept the streets in a steady pace and the ceaseless honking prevailed. She, in her tiny abandoned room, sighed in relief and walked back into the room.

Passing the mirror, she turned and looked at herself from head to toe. She was a complete mess, she had to admit. Her hair fell out of her makeshift ponytail in tangles and cupped her face, projecting shadows over her cheeks. Her cut lip wasn't doing any good either but seemed to fall in proper proportions with her dilapidated appearance. Dry blood coated her nail beds and cuticles. She huffed as an intention to blow the strands of hair out of her view and stomped to the bathroom. Shower wasn't a bad idea.

Walking out of the shower, steam embraced her making her feel refreshed and snug. She contemplated sleep but it only remained a contemplation for she discovered she had a guest.

An unwelcomed one. An anticipated one.

She moved to her right and grabbed her pistol but the 6 feet 8inches man with a Glock 38 was quick on his feet. He fired 3 shots at once and Emily missed the last bullet by mere inches. Before she could make a move, the man threw a heavy ceramic vase at her feet and she rolled on her stomach and landed on her knees and palms. But she didn't get up. Emily traced his feet movements and prowled on the floor like a wild leopard on the hunt. She thanked her black leather suit for the stealth and swiftness.

The man went for another blow but Emily was ahead of him now. She picked up the vase at her side and bashed it against his leg as hard as she could. She took a risk. The man still had the gun in his hand but he underestimated Emily's training and thought if he could manage a concussion that would be it. He underestimated Emily and she took full advantage of it.

The man was too tall to lose balance. His centre of gravity was way high and a hit in the ankle was only enough to distract him for a moment. And that moment is all Emily was looking for. She snickered, grabbing the pocket knife that she'd been hiding for emergency at the side of her gun belt and jabbed it hard into his leg, continuously repeating. Blood spurt out in gushes and the man growled, falling on his back. He reached for his gun and aimed at her.

Too late.

There were sounds of gunshots. Three of them.

The hotel room's door creaked open and a lady in her black leather suit strutted out in her black shiny boots, her semi wet hair swaying at her sides.

But before leaving, Emily took one last peak out the window through the cracks in the curtains and she was out. Out of the hotel. The city.

Her success had relied on that one risk and one advantage. The man's underestimation.

After all, Emily was trained.

Trained to kill the last witness for their case to shut close.  

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Hope you liked this story. It does not have any continuation or prequel to it. This was just an abstract passage. I came up with it at random at a concert. 

Thanks ;)

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