<font face="Verdana"><font color="blue">Weight was lowered on the edge of the bed as Lombardi leaned over, a hand being placed on Cat's shoulder, giving it a small shake. Two hours earlier, he had gotten yet another phone call after falling asleep again. This time it was from some of his men who had been staking out a warehouse that Dias had suddenly taken over. Like idiots, the two of Lombardi's men had gotten caught, forced to call their boss. It seemed that Dias wanted Lombardi, with Cat tagging along to go meet him, down at the Docks at exactly eight o'clock. He had to come without any back up or else he wouldn't present the little "surprise" he had. Lombardi could only guess that the little "surprise" was Roberto. Already showered and dressed in a black suit, Lombardi tried again.</font></font>

<font face="Verdana"><font color="blue">"Cat, wake up, you need to get dressed. We got to leave in a few. I think I can get you Roberto back...."</font></font>

<font face="Verdana"><font color="blue">Long arm snaked out towards the end of the bed, grabbing the pair of pants and shirt he had gotten for her since he had ripped her dress to shreds the night before. Laying the clothes in front of her, he stood and exited the room to go pour himself a scotch. The feeling in his gut wasn't good. Not good at all.</font></font>

<font face="Century Gothic">Catalina was up and ready to go in less than ten minutes flat, and every bit of tension that seeped from Lombardi was absorbed by her. The pants fit perfectly; he had a good eye for her size, which was abnormal for most men to manage. He wasn't most men. She slipped on the blouse and a pair of shoes, and was tugging a cable-link sweater over her head while making her way down the hallway</font>

<font face="Century Gothic">"I'm ready. I'm scared as hell, but I'm
ready." </font>

<font face="Century Gothic">How Vincenzo found Roberto would be asked later -- right now, she wanted her son returned alive and well. The bottle of scotch was eyed and grabbed, and she took a shot, straight. Blanching, she slid the bottle back his way, and then turned and started for the door.</font>

<font face="Century Gothic">"Wait..do I need a weapon of some kind? Or..do we need a plan?" </font>

<font face="Century Gothic">Putting a gun in Cat's hand was inviting trouble, but maybe it'd be beneficial if she could act like she knew what she was doing. She opened the door and held it with her knee. </font>

<font face="Century Gothic">"And yes, I'll listen and do whatever you say.."</font>

<font face="Verdana"><font color="blue">"The rim of the glass he held was rubbed against his lips as he watched her move around the living room like a chicken with it's head cut off. Seeing that she was impatient to leave, one last sip was taken before glass was set on the mini bar. Door was grabbed from her as he allowed her to exit first before following. </font></font>

<font face="Verdana"><font color="blue">"We can't have a plan when we don't know what's going on. We are on Dias' terms now. We have to do whatever he says, or you won't get your son back."</font> </font>

<font face="Verdana"><font color="blue">Face was grim as steps echoed in the stairwell. Now in lead, he took the emergency exit instead of the front door. It put them out in an alley where a tomato red dodge LC 1/2 ton pickup sat. Back slid against the brick wall of his building as he opened the passenger door for her before moving along the front of the truck and climbing in on the drivers side. It wasn't long till they were on their way. Hand rested idly on the wheel as free one slipped into his vest pocket and pulled out his watch. It was only 7:20; they had plenty of time. Watch was tucked back into place as his dark gaze drifted away from the road towards Cat.</font></font>

<font face="Verdana"><font color="blue">"I don't know what he wants, but it's something. When we get there, let me do all the talking. Whatever he wants we give him, or he'll kill Roberto. It's just me and you Cat, no one else, so we can't fuck this up." </font></font>

<font face="Verdana"><font color="blue">Foot pressed the accelerator further to the floor board as they rolled on.</font></font>


<font face="Century Gothic">Hell yes, she was impatient to leave! The woman was going to (finally) get her son back, alive. Cat couldn't get out of Lombardi's apartment fast enough, and even then it was too slow. She wasn't thinking rationally -- she was focused on getting her kid away from the monster without him being physically harmed. Mentally, the damage was, most likely, already done, and Cat would work on that soon enough. Before long, before she was ready, she was following Lombardi out of the building and through the back
alley until they arrived at the truck. The truck, she assumed, was his, or he was as good a car thief as he was a business man. She slid in as he opened the door for her, leaning to open his before settling in place. </font>

<font face="Century Gothic">"What does he want from you, Vincenzo? There has to be something he wants or needs, that only you can deliver." </font>

<font face="Century Gothic">That part worried her, because whatever Dias wanted, she was pretty sure that Lombardi himself was a huge part of, otherwise, he would have told her to come alone. And suddenly,it caught up with her -- what they were doing, and who they were going to confront.</font>

<font face="Century Gothic"> "I don't like this." </font>

<font face="Century Gothic">Translation: I'm scared as hell.</font>

<font color="#684F31" size="1">[ June 29, 2007 12:36 AM: Message edited by: Vincenzo ]</font>