Without turning on his lights, he discreetly followed, hoping someone had gotten a little tight and just forgot to turn on their headlights.  Although…considering the neighborhood, and Kristen not being the typical patron of this type of establishment.

            The other car made the same turns as Kristen.  A tingling sense of danger turned curiosity to suspicion.

            He reached across the passenger seat, popped the catch on the glove compartment and retrieved his Beretta 92FS Vertec.  He placed it on the passenger seat, never taking his eyes off the two cars ahead of him.  He matched his pace to theirs, until he was stopped by a red light.

            "Damn it!"!"

            He slammed his fist against the steering wheel and jammed on the breaks.  The heavy cross traffic kept him from running the light.

            He pulled his cell phone from his breast pocket and pressed #2, Kristen’s programmed number.  He drummed his fingers on the console while he waited for her to answer; he glanced at the clock.  Three rings; voice mail.  He cursed under his breath.

* * *

            Kristen turned onto her street, pulled up in her driveway and glanced in the rearview mirror.  The shadowed movement of a car’s outline, headlights off, drew her attention.  Brow furrowed, she watched it ease to a stop across the street.  A whisper of suspicion kept her in her seat waiting to see if anyone would exit the other car.  When no one emerged, she shrugged and got out of hers.

            She moved across the driveway, tripping the motion-sensor lights on the front of the house; the yard was flooded with brightness.  With furtive sidelong glances, she kept the other vehicle in sight until she turned onto the path leading to the front door.  She heard a car door slam at the same time she heard a slight sound behind her.  She paused, started to turn...

            A hand snaked out and clamped over her mouth, another hand gripped her throat.  For a split second, surprise held her immobile.  Heart pumping spastically, with a swiftness that must have taken her assailant by surprise, she dropped to one knee, quickly gripped the back of a neck and bent forward.  A body sailed over her hunched form and landed on the ground in front of her.  She straightened.  Poised to deliver a deadly blow, a second person accosted her from behind before she could strike.  Cupping her right hand in her left, she drove her right elbow back with as much force as she could muster.  The man doubled over, groaning, he clutched his groin.

            She surged to her feet just as the first man came up in front of her ready to strike.  Her startled scream reflexive, she didn't wait for assistance.  Swiftly blocking the downward momentum of a raised fist with her arm, she forcefully thrust the heel of her other hand into the man's chin.  She heard his teeth snap together at the same time a painful protest screamed through her nerve endings.

            The second man had recovered and was moving toward her when a car skidded to a halt at the curb; the door flew open.