Cat Hunt

An anonymous tip came in for Eevi sometime after her recovery in Naarajärvi. Although Eevi Väinölä was chiefly an assassin rather than a bounty hunter, the offer on this contract was lucrative. The native Tutsi survivor turned Somali crime lord had someone he wanted killed or captured, and he had the equipment to make it happen. But he and his ilk were too easily recognized by his quarry.

Mexico was one of the more openly corrupt countries in the New World, with drug cartels, human traffickers, corrupt politicians everywhere. In some cities, you would even find the corpses of bystanders being hung on overpasses. There were even corrupt officials in the US government that turned a blind eye to these, complicit with corrupt Mexican politicians and their cartel benefactors. And while the city of Cancún was relatively safe, it was far from untouchable by criminal elements - it was, in fact, about as dangerous as Las Vegas.

The crime lord's quarry was native African Nawi, who sometimes moonlit in the nighttime as the elusive Bloodfang. In Cancún, Mexico, Nawi was hoping to drum up support for the Continental African Modernization Movement she was a part of. The stated goal was to drag Africa into the civilized world through increased trade with the West - kicking and screaming, if need be. Nawi herself seemed to go along with this even though she had doubts that things would work out, if for no other reason than to stamp out the slave trade in Africa under a monarchical government structure.

Enter Rajabu Bakari; Nawi's former slave master. Her owner and possessor, come to find someone who would bring him back his best fighter.

His Scarlet Reaper...

Unlike Nawi, Rajabu loved democracy. Democracies inevitably led to bureaucracies - and bureaucracies could be bribed to look the other way on anything. Hence, how he managed to get into the country with no questions asked. Hence, how Chad, Nigeria, and a dozen other African nations still had a fully-thriving slave trade. It drew less attention to bribe a bureaucrat than to bribe an absolute monarch.

The contract payment was being offered in gold bullion - one hundred thousand in US dollars - at a minimum. But to sweeten the pot, the reward would be quintupled if Nawi was brought to Rajabu alive. That was sure to catch Eevi's attention and appeal to her greed long enough to get her to actually catch the target alive.

You will be mine again, my Scarlet Reaper... Rajabu thought. And you will do what you're told when you are...

The offer was too tempting for Eevi to pass up. Anonymous or not, the details of the contract ticked all the boxes for a payday she couldn’t ignore. One hundred thousand was already a good deal, but quintuple that for a live capture? It was almost impossible to turn down, even for someone like her who wasn’t primarily a bounty hunter.

What caught her attention was the gold, the weight of the bullion that would make her life easier, at least for a while. The emotional and political aspects of the job didn’t matter. The only thing she needed to know was where her target was, how to get her, and how to make sure Nawi survived long enough to be handed over for that sweetened reward.

Cancún wasn’t the worst place she had worked, but she’d have to be careful. Despite its corruption, there were enough tourists and civilians around to complicate things. She’d need to move quietly, stay under the radar, and get the job done before anyone even knew she was there. She was good at that, at disappearing into the shadows, striking with precision.

The first step was finding this "Nawi". The information she had been given said Nawi was using her time in Cancún to drum up support for the Continental African Modernization Movement, an initiative Eevi didn’t care to understand. All that mattered was that her target was involved, and Eevi’s role was to stop her. Or, at least, capture her.

It wouldn’t be easy, but Eevi had never expected it to be. A woman like Nawi, someone used to surviving under brutal conditions, wouldn’t go down without a fight. She would be wary, alert, always watching her back. But Eevi was a professional. She had tracked down harder prey before and lived to tell the tale.

As she packed her gear, her wounds fully healed after her escapades in Finland, Eevi thought about how best to approach this job. Subtlety was key. Nawi didn’t need to die, after all. If Eevi could incapacitate her and drag her back to Rajabu alive, that would mean an even bigger payday.

While she packed, her mind flickered briefly to Taavi and Naarajärvi. The quiet life she had been living there, the strange sense of contentment she had felt for a fleeting moment. But that was gone now, pushed aside by the thrill of a new job and the promise of gold. She was a professional, and this was her calling. Naarajärvi would benefit from this too after all.

Cancún was calling, and Eevi was ready to answer.

She boarded the next flight, eyes already scanning the details of the job on her phone, her mind fully focused on the task ahead.

Information about Nawi was basic, including her capabilities when she was last seen: from her strength and speed being at least triple the human norm, and her reflexes estimated to be around 50 milliseconds when at rest and believed to be even faster under combat stress. Her digits were topped with claws that could rend flesh even easier than a surgical scalpel, and she had fangs that could easily tear the jugular out. Nawi had gained the ring name of "Scarlet Reaper" for coming away from duels with her claws covered in blood.

It's estimated that she could easily reach a running speed of 34 to 38 miles per hour if she got out on open terrain. Her olfactory and auditory systems were greatly bolstered; in layman's terms, she had an extremely keen sense of smell and hearing. Her vision was also more acute, allowing for far better night vision than a normal human - but this could work to Eevi's advantage if she could secure flash grenades on the black market.

She was going to stay at a local hotel and give her lectures on African history and the endurance of the modern slave trade at the Haven Riviera - the local convention center - over the course of her three-day stay.

This last part was unconfirmed, but rumors of a vigilante that roams between countries had begun circulating several years since Nawi's initial escape. Those that were struck reportedly had injuries consistent with super strength, bite wounds, and claw marks. The attacks were always under cover of night, so no description could be provided about the attacker, but there was a name: Bloodfang. It wouldn't be a stretch to put two and two together and figure that wherever Nawi was, Bloodfang was also.

Provided that Eevi could confirm that Bloodfang and Nawi were indeed the same person, a nighttime hunt could prove a wise course of action in bringing Nawi in. A method of exploiting Nawi's increased sensitivity to bright light in dark areas could work in Eevi's favor.

The picture that accompanied this information that Eevi was given to work with was that of a disheveled Nawi with her long magenta hair in a stringy mess around her, her gold eyes looked at the photo taker and her slit pupils were dilated with killing intent, the local light reflecting off the back of her retinas. Were Eevi to guess, the bruises in the picture were caused by hand.

There was also a set of longitudinal and latitudinal coordinates pointing to a smaller outlying town. Presumably, it was the meeting point with the client - and if Eevi was set on bringing Nawi in alive, that would be the best place to start. The client likely had a few gadgets that may prove helpful for suppressing Nawi's abilities to make her easier to haul in.

Eevi studied the information in front of her with a cold, detached focus. Nawi—or Bloodfang—wouldn’t be an easy target. From the enhanced reflexes, the heightened senses, and the sheer physical power described, it was clear this wouldn’t be a straightforward hunt. But Eevi had never been one to back down from a challenge. In fact, it was precisely these kinds of high-risk jobs that kept her sharp, that kept her alive.

She took in the image of Nawi, her predatory gaze, the bruises, the bloodlust in her eyes. This wasn’t going to be a fight she could win through sheer force; she needed strategy, precision, and patience. Flash grenades were a definite must—Nawi’s acute senses were a weakness Eevi could exploit, and securing some on the black market would be her first order of business.

Eevi leaned back in her chair, her fingers absentmindedly tapping on the table as she considered her options. The convention center provided a clear opportunity; Nawi would be stationary, surrounded by people, giving Eevi plenty of chances to observe her in action. But she’d need to keep a low profile—no drawing attention, no slipping up. A single misstep could alert Nawi, and if the rumors about Bloodfang were true, confronting her directly would be suicide without the right preparation.

The coordinates for the meeting with the client caught her attention next. It was clear from the description that whoever had put the bounty on Nawi was well-connected, possibly armed with tech that could tip the scales in her favor. Eevi had dealt with clients like this before, always preferring to stay in the shadows, but sometimes working with them provided necessary tools.

It was a risk, but one she’d take.

With a sigh, Eevi folded the papers and slipped them into her jacket. The night would be her ally in this hunt, and if Nawi was indeed Bloodfang, there was no better time to track a predator than when they were hunting, too. And if Eevi played her cards right, she'd have Nawi in chains before dawn broke.

Time to get to work.

First, she'd make her way to the coordinates, meet with the client, and see what gadgets they could offer. After that, she'd start scouting the hotel where Nawi was staying, blending into the background like the shadow she had always been.

At the coordinates specified, Rajabu Bakari awaited the assassin Inkwell. The native African man was tall, well-built, with a shaved head and chiseled features. He sported a large claw scar across this throat - a little something Nawi left him to remember her by. That being said, he was certain she didn't expect him to survive. He almost didn't - were it not for the healing Meta he also kept in chains, he would have bled out. And although Rajabu was able to think tactically and was rather clever due to his long life within the criminal underworld, he was not a particularly intelligent individual.

A creature of habit, Rajabu was quite used to outsourcing his jobs to other people. And to date, he paid well enough to not be backstabbed by those he hired. He recognized Inkwell immediately based on her appearance. There weren't a lot of Scandinavians in Mexico, after all. He looked up to her. A brief lustful look arrived in his eyes, but it went away as quickly as it came.

"Good, you're here," he said, with his thick Rwandan accent. "The name is Rajabu. Never mind the scars. They were a parting gift your target left me years ago."

Escorting Inkwell into the makeshift hideout, he had a few small boxes of gadgets. Several grenades, from flash to frag, binoculars for scouting, a few harnesses for cloaking, and a few collars. The cloaking harnesses were nowhere near as advanced as the one that Eevi encountered in use by Thorn back then. The shimmer from it bending light would be more obvious, and since it wasn't powered by a nuclear battery, the duration would be rather short - it would be recommended to use this wisely in dark or dimly-lit areas.

"She was one of the best ring fighters I had back in the day, and made for rather lovely company when not in the ring," Rajabu said. "But you're not here to hear me reminisce about the past. You're here for bounty details. Let me skip the pleasantries. Your target is an advocate for the Continental African Modernization Movement - some movement that seeks to bring more jobs to Africa, raise the standard of living, and increase law and order through trade relations with the West. But I expect you're uninterested in the politics. Your target's name is 'Nawi' - last name unknown - probably from one of the older isolated tribes back in Africa. You're to bring her to me. Preferably alive...but dead is acceptable."

He showed a single gold bar from a pouch on a nearby table, saying, "You'll be paid in these. What I have set aside for a completed job is appraised at around a hundred thousand in US dollars. I'll have to keep the rest if she's brought in dead - Meta as pit fighters don't come cheap, after all. Bring her in alive, and it's five hundred thousand, instead. The gear I have here should be good for that purpose - flash grenades, night optics, a few cloaking harnesses, and - most important - a power-suppressing  collar that you should get around her neck if you can. Don't ask where I got that from."

There was a lustful, almost predatory look, in Rajabu's eyes any time he mentioned Nawi.

She had seen men like him countless times before, each one thinking they could push their boundaries just enough to see what they could get away with. She wasn’t one to play that game, not here, not anywhere.

She leaned over the table, glancing at the gold bar for a moment before returning her gaze to the assortment of gear. The mission itself was straightforward—capture the target, alive preferably, dead if necessary. The reward for live capture was hefty, a small fortune in gold, but she could see the personal interest Rajabu had in Nawi. That always complicated things.

"I don't care about your past, or your personal attachment to her," she continued, her voice measured, calm. "I’m here for the job, nothing else. You want her back, done. Simple and plain as that. If she’s as dangerous as you say, I’ll need everything you’ve got here though to tilt the scales." She reached for the cloaking harness, inspecting it briefly. It wasn't perfect, but in the darkness, it might just be enough to give her the edge. The flash grenades, too, could exploit Nawi's heightened senses.

"These will do," she murmured, nodding as she collected what she needed.

She glanced back at Rajabu, her expression unreadable. While he may have been a creature of habit, she wasn’t about to assume he’d laid out all the cards on the table. Men like him always held back something. Always. And it was better to get ahead of that now before stepping into what was sure to be a dangerous hunt.

The fact that Nawi had left him with those scars meant she was no ordinary target. Eevi had no illusions about the difficulty of the task ahead, but she wasn't the kind to shy away from violence either.

Rajabu's thinly veiled admiration, the lust that flickered briefly in his eyes, was met with indifference. She had seen it too many times before—men who thought they could size her up and mistake her for something weaker, someone who could be bought or distracted by charm. She had no illusions about what this man represented, or the dark business he dealt in. They were both monsters of a sort, but Eevi held no respect for him.

“Alive or dead,” she repeated his terms, her voice flat, emotionless. “If she’s the one I think she is, that depends entirely on how she plays this.” She picked up the collar, turning it over in her hands, before meeting Rajabu’s eyes again.

“I’ll need this in working order when the time comes. No screw-ups. I don't like being disappointed.”

Slipping the collar back onto the table, Eevi's mind already raced ahead to her plan. Nawi sounded dangerous, more so than most she had hunted recently. That didn’t bother her; in fact, it intrigued her. If she could bring Nawi in alive, the payout would be enough to ensure a long period of freedom.

But freedom was never cheap.

"If there's nothing else," she added, her voice hardening, "I'll get to work. I don't plan on staying in Mexico any longer than I need to."

She reached for one of the flash grenades and a pair of night optics. “I’ll start tonight,” she said simply, strapping the gear onto her belt. “Show me where she is staying? Anything else I need to know? Something you're not telling me? I don’t like surprises."

"The collar was tested on one of my other Meta; a healer. It will do its job. One extra detail you ought to know. I'll need to torch or sell off whatever gear you don't take and move to another safe house further north in case the authorities come sniffing around. As for Nawi...she has a habit of wearing gloves in public to conceal her claws, and she wears longer dresses in order to conceal her tail; if you have a keen eye on a side profile, you may be able to pick it out through her clothing," Rajabu said.

Rajabu concealed his anticipation well, and used Eevi looking through the gear to distract from his thoughts. She appraised each piece of gear carefully, seeming to know which was which by sight alone without having to operate anything. Methodical and thorough, as her reputation suggested.

"You're thorough - I appreciate a keen eye. Last the boys I paid off saw, she's going to stay at the Royal Solaris Cancun - both it and the convention center are fairly close to the airport," Rajabu said. "The hotel has a nice beachfront view - a half-hour's drive from the convention center. The boys couldn't find out the exact room, but they believe her to have taken one on the second floor, facing the beach. I'd send my own to do the work, but she already has their scents memorized. She cut and run from Saint Martin when she caught a whiff. But here's a bit more of a tip - it's not just her sight that you can hinder. Get her in a busy part of town and her ears will need more time to cut through the noise. Get her in a spot where there's a lot of clashing scents, and she'll find it harder to pin yours down unless you're in swiping distance."

"I'll be near Laguna Del Amor when you've finished," he concluded. "Make sure you have what you need before heading out - I'll be disposing of the rest of this one way or another.



Every so often, Nawi did things that reminded her that the Great Panther's essence and instincts flowed through her. Whether it was sleeping in the nude or stretching chest-first toward the ground, she was often doing something that was affiliated with cats. In the privacy of her hotel, where she didn't need to worry about public appearances, she sat on the floor in a manner reminiscent of cats, as well. Her intelligence was within the "intellectually gifted" category.

Anyone who talked to Nawi for more than five minutes would immediately note that she didn't mince words and was exceedingly blunt in conversation. It must come from whatever Dutch introduced itself along her ancestry. She was surprisingly easy to get along with, provided you did two things: be polite, and don't be an idiot. And this ruled out a sizable amount of the Western world.

Mexico was a nice place as long as you could book one of the safer towns. Nawi hoped she could get a good turnout; this wasn't Mexico City or Ciudad Juarez. Cancún had a major airport, but it was hardly centralized. She worried that she wouldn't reach the politicians that really mattered...not that she cared much for politicians, in general. And one of the things that were worse than politicians were bureaucrats - and they always popped up in democracies.

She could argue the merits and drawbacks of monarchism all day, but what she knew was that a king could not let the amount of corruption in Mexico get as out of control as it was and hope not to get hung by his own citizens. Monarchs had actual incentive to do right by their populace - just ask Louis XVI. Elected politicians...they had no such incentive. All they needed to do was pay lips-service to the masses, and the ignorant public would keep on electing them - just ask...literally any United States senator.

As for Nawi herself, she spent three months laid up in recovery after the attack on Arisawa Heavy Industries in Japan. Some merc named "Revenant", after cutting his losses with the attempted heist on Arisawa's power armor schematics, had tried to take her in. He may have failed to take her, but not for lack of trying. He did quite a number on her; broken bones, lacerations, shrapnel that had to be dug out. She had nearly gone stir-crazy in the process of recovery. Frankly, it was thanks to Jacob Mercer that she managed to survive at all.

It was during this fight that Nawi had learned that Rajabu Bakari was still alive, and he was keen on taking her back. Nawi had been in such a hurry during her initial escape that she didn't take time to make sure he bled out. She wouldn't make that mistake again if she found him. The thought that that piece of human filth who owned her, forced her to fight, and forced himself on her was still alive caused her to hiss in anger.

Shaking away other thoughts for a second, she took in the scent of sea salt being carried from the beach, which rapidly calmed her down. The sea was one of those things she loved. In contrast to the imagery of most cats, Nawi actually loved getting into water. If she wasn't trying to keep both of her identities separate, she would be on the waves right now with her tail trailing behind her. Alas, it was not to be.

Getting showered up, Nawi got her underwear on and over that, put on a rather simple and traditional flax dress with a rather high neckline. It was just loose enough on the waist to where she could wrap her tail around her waist with few people being the wiser.

She was here for a reason. She may as well get it done.