In the only private office at the police station, George gently knocked on the closed door.
"Come in!"
Upon opening the door, he saw a morbidly obese white man leaning back in his chair, his eyes glued to the flickering computer screen, occasionally letting out a chuckle. George's expression soured.
"Sir, I wanted to ask about the arrest warrant for the Allen Group director. What's the status?"
"Hmm?" The middle-aged police chief, with three blue stripes on his shoulder, narrowed his eyes before smiling broadly at George, who was frowning at him.
"An Allen Group director isn't just anyone. Do you think it's easy to issue an arrest warrant for him? Also, didn't I tell you to track down that so-called Judge? Why are you bringing this up again?" His tone grew heavier as he spoke, the downward curve of his lips emphasizing his discontent.
Without receiving any feedback, George, even though used to his superior's demeanor, found it hard to swallow. His face darkened as he angrily stormed out, slamming the door behind him.
Watching his subordinate leave in a huff, Leon smiled faintly before turning his attention back to his computer. The screen displayed a documentary about the origin of certain species, and his heavy breathing filled the spacious office.
"Fuck!"
George couldn't help but curse loudly. A nearby officer, who was about to ask him something, froze, then silently returned to his station.
...
Click, click, click! The sound of footsteps echoed on the polished floor as Patricia walked through the underground corridor, passing by men whose eyes followed her every move before becoming glazed over.
She was used to such reactions, her mind replaying the scenes she had just witnessed, with John's blurred face lingering in her thoughts.
She glanced back casually, causing two men to quickly turn away, pretending to chat.
"Heh!"
Next, Patricia quickened her pace, weaving swiftly through the crowded corridor. Thanks to her striking appearance, many men stepped aside to let her pass. Amidst the admiring gazes, she vanished into the crowd.
"Fuck!"
The two men, struggling in the crowd, cursed angrily as they were jostled but eventually lost sight of Patricia .
In a dim alleyway, Patricia , carrying two bags of new clothes, hurried upstairs and entered her apartment. She flicked a switch, but the room remained dark.
"Broken again?"
Dropping the bags, Patricia slipped off her heels and walked calmly towards the living room. Just as she passed the hallway, a shadow lunged at her. Instantly, she bent backward, dodging the strike.
She flipped backward, kicking the assailant who had lunged at her. With a grunt, the attacker flew back. Then, a flash of white light forced Patricia to retreat as a second attacker slashed at her with precision. Yet, he couldn't land a hit, as Patricia evaded each strike with agility.
Her reactions were extraordinary as she dodged and countered with a powerful punch that sent the large man reeling back into his partner. Snatching a knife, she hurled it at the man, hitting his shoulder.
"Ugh!"
With a groan, the man collapsed onto his partner. Patricia , moving swiftly, reached them in two steps.
Thud, thud!
Two hard kicks knocked the men unconscious. Breathing steadily, Patricia walked to the living room, flipped the circuit breaker, and lit up the room.
She glanced at the two unconscious men, unmasked them to reveal ordinary faces. Searching them, she found two sharp knives and a silenced pistol. With a determined look, she dragged the unconscious men out.
Thirty minutes later, at the East District Police Station.
As a taxi pulled up outside, three figures emerged. Seeing Patricia and the two men, two officers drew their guns.
"What are you doing?" a young officer barked, but he froze upon recognizing her.
Patricia handed over the men, her face emotionless as she addressed George.
"So, you subdued them by yourself?"
"Yes, I'm quite skilled," she replied calmly.
George frowned, increasingly perplexed by the enigmatic woman before him.
"Miss Patricia , not only are you beautiful, but you're also formidable!" a young officer remarked, his eyes shining. Patricia nodded slightly, causing the officer to beam.
"I suspect they're hitmen sent by the Allen Group. I urge you to..."
"Alright, we'll handle it. You can go now," the East District Chief interrupted, striding out of his office and dismissing her curtly.
"Alright then."
Feigning despair, Patricia left the station. Inside, an awkward silence settled.
"Why are you standing around? Get back to work!" The chief's harsh words dispersed the officers, though he regretted his brusqueness.
Orders from above demanded they downplay the incident, and a hefty deposit in his account ensured compliance. He would personally handle the interrogation of the two men.
Outside, Patricia 's expression shifted to one of determination. Her eyes scanned the darkened street, noting the extinguished streetlights.
"Miss Patricia , do you need an escort home?"
The young officer from before hurried to her side, concerned for her safety.
"Thank you, but I'll manage," Patricia smiled thinly before disappearing into the darkness.
"Sigh."
The young officer watched her go, sighing deeply. In Gotham, even the police station wasn't immune to corruption and crime.
(End of Chapter)