As always, C&C would be very much appreciated.

Dark Chronicles:
Prelude 3.

        The little she-bitch would die. She had decided that the moment she
had found Crystal, broken and beaten, in the alley behind the arcade. From
where she had knelt beside her, she could still hear the faint sounds of
cheering and laughter as Dave and Anna hammered it out against C-55s and BU-
12Bs on two BGC-DOOMS while Lenore and Angela screamed insults at one another
with as little real animosity as usual and the others milled about, waiting
for other games to be free and all keeping an eye out for one another. It was
useless to try overtly to watch their leader's back; she was as likely to
flatten anyone who suggested she couldn't cope with anything that came her
way, especially now. Crystal's helpless whimpering had stopped as she'd
reached a hand to her cheek, then the blue eyes had opened to look up at her.
For a moment they'd regarded one another, her own gaze frigid with the promise
of revenge for this. Then she was on her feet, flying back towards the arcade,
screaming for the others.
        That had been a mere ten minutes before. She had not waited for the
ambulance; she couldn't afford to wait. She had headed straight for Faegan's,
hoping to reach the drug-hole before they realised the mistake they'd made in
pushing her this far and went to ground for the duration.
        She had been lucky. Gema and the goon-squad were still there, probably
waiting for Harrison to call to let them know what she and the others were
doing after he'd finished with Crystal. She'd found that idea amusing.
Harrison would never talk again. Lenore and Michael should be just about
finished with him by now, just about.
        It had been easy. All she needed to do was to remember little, fiery
Crystal's helpless broken form and that she was dealing with drug-trafficking,
gutter-licking filth and she didn't have to hold anything back. She had
smashed the first of the hired help, a Viet she noted fleetingly, into the
brick-work of the club's entrance with such force that the impact had
shattered his spine like kindling. Kicking the semi-automatic from the hand of
another with a snap that smashed his wrist to pulp, she leapt, flipped and
landed, slamming the third bodily through the plate-glass door, flicking out
the stiletto even as she followed, driving the fine blade to the hilt through
his spinal chord just below the neck before wrenching it free and diving over
him, already running before his body had tumbled to a stop. She was through
the club and out into the darker passages behind almost before the panic had
begun. Then there was the dimly lit stairway and the voices from the room at
the smaller passage's farther end. Sprinting for the closed door, she had
slammed it open, leapt through and hurled the blade into the throat of the
first of Gema's personal guard even as he looked up, turning only to smash the
other over a table and through the window on the room's farther side before
she was beside Gema, another blade already at her throat.
        "Lock the door." She snarled softly.
        The little she-cat ducked, trying desperately to twist towards her, a
knife in her hand. Dropping her own blade, she slammed her to the table and
slapped the knife to the farther side of the room. Something cracked and Gema
screamed. She ignored her, pivoting to the door in time to flick her last
blade through the left eye of the gunman in the doorway.
        "You should have used that." She said calmly as she retrieved his
weapon and the tiny knife, pitched the dying body from the room and slammed
and locked the door.
        "Now then, where were we?" She inquired almost pleasantly, moving to
Gema's groaning form, pausing to retrieve her other blades and re-sheathe them
before dragging the dealer-hit-girl up by her hair.
        There was a crash at the door, then another and a moment later it
burst inwards. She smiled as three blades flew and three men screamed and
fell. Then the fourth entered with a pistol in his hand.
        "Put that down." He snarled quietly, jerking a finger at the last
blade she held to Gema's throat.
        "We'll go together, your little pay-mistress and I." She said calmly,
her eyes never leaving his face, her own expression utterly devoid of fear.
        "If that's how you want it. Doesn't matter to--."
        The knife slashed his jugular before he'd finished, embedding itself
in the door-jam behind him. He screamed, a thin gurgling sound, even as she
whirled, pausing only to crack Gema's neck with a quick twist of her hand.
        "You f*ing bish." Came a gurgling slur from behind her.
        In the midst of her leap to the window she half turned, in time to see
the man, blood pulsing between his fingers as he clutched uselessly at his
neck, stagger up, the pistol still in his hand. Her feet hit the sill and she
hurled herself forwards, somersaulting towards the alley below. Then there was
a crack from behind her and the world exploded in reds and yellows, even as
she plunged towards, then through the street to fall, choking back a scream of
shock, into the oblivion beyond.