Chapter Eleven - Wriggling on the Hook

Kate was cold. She needed a coat if she was going to be out on a night like this, but, given the circumstances, that was out of the question. She was supposed to present a tempting target. She supposed she should be grateful that Pete had allowed her at least some input into her choice of outfit, not that it would have made a lot of difference. She tried not to look self-conscious while she kept her eyes open for their quarry.

* * *

Kate stormed into the canteen and collapsed in one of the plastic chairs. The chair was uncomfortable and dug into her in all the wrong places. She fidgeted in search of the position of least discomfort. Least discomfort due to the chair, anyway.

Pete Wisdom sat down next to her, placing a tray on the table. He began attacking his meal with a disposable knife and fork.

'Not hungry?' he asked Kate when he noticed that she was not eating.

Kate shook her head.

'Come on, you've got to eat something,' Pete encouraged. 'I mean, I know what it looks like - and it tastes like it too, to be honest - but we've got a big day ahead of us.'

'I said I'm not hungry, okay?!' Kate shot back. The canteen went deathly quiet and Kate was acutely aware of just how loud her last comment had been. She shrank down in her chair, hoping to disappear.

Pete got up, walked around the table and sat down next to her.

'Are you all right, love?' he asked.

'What do you think?' Kate retorted in a harsh whisper.

Pete ran a hand through his tangled hair.

'It's about that girl, isn't it,' he deduced.

'Her name was Alice Spence,' Kate replied. She was staring at the chips on Pete's plate, piled in a jumble that jutted in all directions. Like the remains of Alice's ribs.

'Fine, Alice, whatever,' Pete conceded quietly. 'You seemed fine in the morgue.'

'Like I'm going to want to break down in front of everybody,' Kate said. 'Did you see what that…that thing did to her?'

'I saw,' Pete said.

He put his arm around Kate. She leaned into him, guiltily accepting his comfort for a few seconds. Then she pulled away and stood up.

'We've got work to do,' she said, striding off.

With a longing look at his chips, Pete shook his head and hurried after her.

* * *

'Any sign yet?' Kate asked. She looked as if she were whispering into empty air, but Pete had assured her that the microphone in her right earring would pick up her voice.

'Still early days yet, love,' Pete replied. 'Have patience.'

'Easy for you to say,' Kate shot back. 'You're in the nice warm van.'

'Be fair, Kate,' Pete replied. 'You know I'd trade places with you in a heartbeat if I could, but you look so much better in the outfit.'

'If I didn't want to kill you before now…' Kate muttered.

'Hey, save you anger for Jack,' Pete suggested.

'Don't worry,' Kate replied. 'Right now, there's more than enough to go round.'

'We've taken to calling him Jack,' Pete explained as he led Kate into his office. 'Not my idea, but, well…he went through a phase of picking targets at random, but just lately he seems to have developed a fixation on prostitutes. I guess the similarity's to obvious not to comment on.'

'We're not dealing with the ghost of a nineteenth century serial killer,' Kate pointed out.

'No,' Pete agreed, 'we're not.'

He rooted around in his desk and produced a bulging manila folder.

'Take a look at these,' he suggested. 'Careful, though. They're pretty graphic.'

'I can handle myself just fine,' Kate told him, though her face paled as she flicked though the images.

'Nothing human could do that,' Pete concluded.

'Mutants are humans,' Kate insisted.

'Figure of speech, love,' Pete replied defensively. 'You know that.'

'Do I?' Kate demanded. She put down the folder. 'It's the casual comments that are the worst, the ones you don't even realise are racist. It makes you think the war's already lost.'

'We can have this debate later,' Pete said. 'Right now, can we at least agree that the killer is a mutant.'

'It does look that way,' Kate conceded. 'So how do we catch him?'

Pete spread his hands.

'I'm open to suggestions,' he said.

* * *

'This is humiliating,' Kate whispered to Pete.

'It was your idea,' Pete replied.

'Not that,' Kate corrected him. 'It's that girl over there. How come she's getting all the trade and no one's even approached me yet?'

'Do you really want them to?' Pete asked, laughing.

Kate scowled.

* * *

'Read my lips. No bloody way.'

'Why not?' Kate demanded, hands on her hips.

'I can't believe you're seriously suggesting using somebody as bait,' Pete replied.

'Not somebody. Me,' Kate amended. 'And I can't believe you haven't tried it already.'

'We have,' Pete said coldly.

'Oh.' It was all Kate could think of to say.

'Perhaps you'd like to see the photos of how she ended up,' Pete continued, making sure Kate got his point.

Kate thought of railing at him, berating him for his deliberate cruelty, but there was something behind his eyes. It was a tiny something, almost unnoticeable, but Kate had known Pete intimately at one time and she could still read his moods.

'Was she a friend of yours?' she asked.

Pete nodded.

'We were close,' Pete replied.

'Close?' Kate repeated.

'Not that close,' Pete insisted.

Kate raised an eyebrow. 'I can't believe you've been saving yourself since me.'

'You'd be right there,' Pete agreed, 'but cheap, meaningless one-night stands don't count. With Cheryl…well, it might have counted a whole lot more.'

'I'm sorry,' Kate said.

'She played the cello,' Pete continued. 'I'm more of a jazz man, but she dragged me along to one of her recitals. That was the night before…' He turned away. 'The next morning I had to tell her parents that their daughter was dead, dead because I put her in the firing line.'

'It wasn't your fault,' Kate consoled him.

'Yes it was,' Pete replied. 'I'm responsible for the people on this team. It comes with the job and I'm not about to pass the buck because I made a lousy decision. All I can do is promise Cheryl that I won't make the same mistake twice.'

'And what about all of those other girls?' Kate demanded. 'Isn't someone going to take responsibility for them?'

'That's not fair,' Pete protested. 'I'm doing all I can.'

'Are you?' Kate persisted. 'They're just kids, Pete. We can't just sit around on our hands and do nothing.'

'And your brave alternative is to throw your life away?' Pete retorted. 'I don't think so, Kate.'

'Was Cheryl a mutant?' Kate asked.

'What?'

'Was Cheryl a mutant?'

'Well, no,' Pete conceded.

'Then I've got a distinct advantage over her, don't you think?'

Pete sighed. 'And you wonder why people are prejudiced against you.'

* * *

'Blond guy, two o'clock,' Kate whispered. 'Fits the description.'

'What there is of one,' Pete replied. Eyewitnesses to the killings did exist, but their reports had been maddeningly vague. 'Let me try and get a bead on him with the portable Cerebro.'

'Well hurry it up before he loses interest,' Kate replied.

'In you, love?' Pete asked. 'Never gonna happen.'

'You'll say anything to get back in my pants, won't you?' Kate asked.

'Just name it,' Pete said.

'Drop dead,' Kate suggested.

'Ooh, tough talk,' Pete laughed, 'but I know you don't mean it. What about tonight, hm?'

'Tonight never happened,' Kate insisted. 'Now what's up with Cerebro?'

'Just getting a reading now,' Pete replied. 'Got him. Definitely a mutant, high probability of being alpha level.'

'So the question is: is he out for pleasure or out to make a killing?' Kate mused.

'Or both?' Pete suggested. 'This is why I said we should employ psychics. Guess you're on your own till then, love.'

'Just the way I like it,' Kate replied.

* * *

'For the record, I really don't like this,' Pete said.

'But you'll go along with it?' Kate asked.

'Could I stop you?' he replied.

The briefing room was slowly emptying out. If Kate was going to put her life on the line, Pete wanted to be sure that his team would catch her should she fall. And the whole time he checked and double-checked and put each and every last little detail in place, he could hear Cheryl's ghost laughing in his ear.

'I'll be fine,' Kate insisted. 'You'll see.'

'Kate, you've barely been on this case twenty-four hours,' Pete replied. 'You don't know this guy like I do.'

'Peter Wisdom,' Kate said, 'is that fear I can hear in your voice.'

'Too bloody right it is,' Pete shot back. 'You've seen the pictures, Kate. Do you really want that to happen to you?'

'Of course not,' Kate replied, 'and I'm not going to give him a chance to try.'

'Really?' Pete asked. 'Has it occurred to you that while you're wriggling on the hook a big fish might come along and eat you?'

'At least you'll have caught the big fish,' Kate pointed out.

'This isn't a game,' Pete snapped, grabbing hold of Kate and forcing her to look at him. 'You're going to get yourself killed.'

'Let go of me,' Kate said.

'Or is that what you want?' Pete continued. 'To die? The big and powerful head honcho of the X-Men found she couldn't hack the big time and so she decided to come over here and prove herself by going out in a blaze of glory. Is that what this is all about?'

'No,' Kate insisted.

'Like hell it ain't,' Pete said. 'You chickened out back in the States. I'm not about to molly-coddle you and try and claim you did the right thing. Glad as I am to see you, you walked out on your friends at the worst possible time and I think that was a monumentally stupid thing to do. But I understand why you did it. You friends, if they know you at all, understand why you did it. The only person beating you up over this is you, love, so grow up and move on. You feel the need to prove yourself, fine, but what exactly do you think throwing your life away proves, except the fact that you're still running away from the hard decisions and the responsibilities.'

Kate closed her eyes to hide from Pete's penetrating stare.

'I don't want to die,' she said, 'but someone needs to fight for those dead girls. If I can do something, isn't that my responsibility.'

'I don't want to lose you,' Pete said. He was so close to her that Kate could feel the warmth of his breath upon her face, smell the acrid odour of that cheap brand of cigarettes he liked so much.

'It's been a while since you last had me,' Kate replied.

'I know,' Pete said.

He cupped her face in his hand and crushed his lips down on hers. Kate savoured the faint taste of whisky in his mouth, the course stubble on his face, and found herself responding in kind. She had forgotten how good he could make her feel through doing so little.

But that was in the past.

Reluctantly, she pulled away, spun on her heel and walked out of the room. Pete called after her, but Kate did not turn, did not stop, not from fear of Pete, but from fear of what she might do.

* * *

Jack, if that was who it was, was shorter than Kate had expected. He did not look capable of tearing those women apart, but, if he was a mutant, then looks could be deceptive. He had unkempt, sandy-coloured hair, with blue eyes hiding behind tiny glasses.

He looked at Kate, then his gaze slid off of her and down the street.

Sweat beaded on Kate's forehead. If he was the one, then she could not let him choose another victim. It had to be her. But what should she say? How was she supposed to grab his attention?

'Hey, handsome,' she said, putting a hand on one hip.

'Jack' paused and then turned back to her. He looked her up and down slowly, appraising her, and Kate felt frighteningly exposed.

'You're new here,' he said. His voice was cultured, upper class.

'What if I am?' Kate asked, licking her lips slowly. 'Afraid to try something different?'

Jack gave her a thin smile.

'Oh, I always rise to a challenge,' he said, 'that is, if you think you can handle me?'

'You'd be amazed.' Kate reached out and draped an arm around the man's shoulder. If this was not Jack then she was going to be in a whole load of trouble.

Then she looked into Jack's eyes, saw the coldness that did not match his smile and she knew that she was not mistaken, but she was in a whole lot of trouble all the same.

Jack shoved her back into the shadows of the alley. He was stronger than Kate had anticipated. She should have been prepared, should have put two and two together from those autopsy reports, but she was still surprised. Yet another example of how bad an idea this was. One up to Pete, Kate just hoped she'd still be around to see him gloat.

'Hands off,' Kate snapped, voice quavering slightly. 'I thought you wanted a good time.'

'Oh I do,' Jack told her. 'The best.'

He placed his fingertips over his sternum, then pressed down, forcing his hands through his ribcage and into his chest. Then he began to peel his chest open, like lifting the flap of a box.

'What are you doing?' Kate asked.

'Don't worry, darling, you're going to enjoy this, I promise,' Jack said. 'I think you'll find I'm particularly well-endowed.'

And then from within his chest cavity, a mass of brown-green tentacles lashed out, reaching hungrily for their next victim.

Kate screamed.