Gang Wars

1
1.
His shoes echoed off of the deserted pavements as he walked aimlessly into the night. His steps ever so slightly clumsy from one too many alcoholic beverages, yet he was still sober enough to register the surroundings. Turquoise eyes wandered from the tops of skyscrapers to the litter blowing across the grey walkway.
Everything was grey in the city, disguised at night only by the orange glow of rows upon rows of street lamps. Although the street he walked on was deserted, the rumbling of late night traffic could be heard in the distance. He carried on walking and staring, not really thinking of anything in particular.
His ears prick at the sound of a small ‘pop’ nearby. He knew that sound should be one that he should recognise, but he could not think why. But he did know that it meant someone was close. At first he tried to ignore the fact and carried on striding down the walkway, head down. However, he couldn’t help but feel that whoever it was, whatever it was, was watching him intently.
Soon enough, his curiosity and paranoia got the better of him and he lifted his head to scan the street. He saw the person the moment he lifted his head. Whoever it was, they appeared to be simply standing near the entrance to a dark back-alleyway rather than moving. He stepped forward tentatively until he was close enough to distinguish at least some of the person’s features.
The shadowed figure was now well recognisable as female. This knocked some confidence back into him, he at least new it was not a man waiting to mug the next passer-by. The discovery also made him a lot more curious. Who was this woman, and what was she doing on the streets of New York all alone well past midnight? His first conclusion was that she was a working girl, waiting to be picked up, but this seemed strange as he knew for a fact they were nowhere near the red light district.
He began to walk towards the woman, her figure becoming clearer with every step; she was blonde, average height and he realised, as he walked with a few metres of her, incredibly attractive. He walked even closer, close enough to feel her eyes staring straight into his. She didn’t look American, yet her face was, now he was close enough to see it properly, undeniably familiar from somewhere. In fact everything was familiar except the eyes which were the colour of dark chocolate, darker even than Natalie’s.
“Hello Hayden,” she speaks at last, a strong, smoke-worn London accent. He knew that voice too, and more importantly she knew his name.
“How do you know my name?” he demands, desperate to find out the identity of the woman.
“How do you not know mine?” she replies, a lopsided smirk, not dissimilar from his, playing across her full lips.
“Wha-“
“I’m sure I’m the topic of many heated conversations back at base,” she cuts him off. Hayden’s eyes grew wide, somehow she knew about the gang- and the only person who has been discussed back at base- suddenly everything fell into place, the face, the voice. But the eyes, the eyes weren’t right. Hayden looked at her with confusion,
“Your eyes- they weren’t brown.” He stuttered.
“No they weren’t. I thought it best to change them, if you had identified me when you first saw me, we would be duelling right now rather than talking.” she spoke the truth. Hayden knew all too well now that he was talking to someone he should be trying to kill, or at least capture.
“And why do you want to talk to me?” he asked his voice shaken with conflict- should he carry on talking, or should he attempt to do the right thing?
“I never said I wanted to talk to you,” she replied huskily, leaning against the entrance to the alleyway, her eyes turning suddenly from the chocolate brown to brightest blue. Now there really was no doubting this woman’s identity.
Hayden couldn’t help but gulp audibly at her suggestive tone of voice. In his mind, he cursed himself for showing such weakness to an enemy, but his body was having other, opposing ideas. His eyes, apparently of their own accord, travelled downwards taking in her full appearance. Her slightly tanned skin illuminated by the streetlamp, the generous swell of her chest, feminine curves and creamy thighs exposed by a barely there skirt. He knew she was fully aware of his wandering eyes, but she appeared to be indifferent to his close inspection.
Her appearance caused an expected, yet for now unwanted, reaction from Hayden’s body. His trousers began to feel uncomfortably tight around him and whilst his mind held him back, the rest of him was screaming for a release.
“If you don’t want to talk to me, why do you want me?”Hayden manages to speak.
“Oh I don’t think this is about me wanting you Hayden,” her eyes trail down to his pants, the growing tightness easily noticeable, “I think it’s about you wanting me.” Her voice was now so husky, it was almost a growl.
Hayden gulped again, making his protruding adam’s apple bob up and down on his throat. He watched, speechless as the woman in front of him turned and began to walk away, down the alleyway. He stared after her, taking in her posture, the way her hips swung from right to left until the darkness swallowed her.
“Fuck,” he cursed out loud. He knew he had a choice to make; he should just leave, return to base and report every detail, or at least his brain told him he should. His other head, as it were, happened to be willing him to follow the woman and give in to the raw lust that her husky voice and sexy appearance had created inside of him.
He was a strong minded man most of the time, but the constant throbbing against his pants was driving him to insanity. He didn’t want to follow her, he told himself; he needed to follow her, simply for the sake of release. And with all thoughts of self-control and the consequences for such a betrayal pushed out of his mind, Hayden followed his head and entered the alleyway...