[b]Kat[/b]
I walk into the pulsing noise of the Spit, a raucous place of violence, organized and not, and narcotics, legal and not.
I spare a brief glance at the fighting pit, it's the main pull for this place. In it a drunk young woman is going up against a blandly handsome, thuggish 'bad boy'. I roll my eyes and continue scanning the place for Mawali, looking around the throng gathered around the fight. For once he's by himself, he must be feeling confident enough tonight that he thinks he doesn't need security. 
I see him before he sees me, short, skin darker than mine, a heavily broken nose, and gaudy jewelry covering his fingers and neck. I pass by the bar, and I see man flirting with a girl who looks barely old enough to have graduated school. I feel a flicker of recognition when I see her, as if I've known her sometime before, or perhaps her sister.. But I let it go. If it still bothers me, I can ask her if we've met later.
I've closed half the distance to Mawali when he notices me, and he lets out a sort of breathy squeak before he turns and runs away from me, shoving past the rest of the crowd.
Motherfucker.
I try and push myself past the crowd, yet I'm moving slower than I'd like, and I fear I'm going to lose Mawali. 
Reaching into my jacket, I flash my badge, "BoD OFFICER! CLEAR THE WAY!"
The only people who notice are the ones right next to me and they move away from me, watching in bland interest as I sprint after Mawali down the corridor cleared by the amused people in the club.
He throws a table onto the ground behind him as he runs, and I trip on it, hitting the ground hard. People are milling benignly around me, not sure if they should help me up or not. Nobody is apprehending Mawali either, afraid of his status as a crime lord, or just because they dislike me more than him. Most seem to think that this is a game or something, and are cheering. Most are focused on the fight, ignoring the unfolding drama behind them.
By the time I pull myself up, I see him slamming open the door to the basement. There must be an exit done there. SHIT.
I heave myself forwards, scrabbling off the ground and towards the door.
I slam into the door, forcing it forwards-
and get tripped by Mawali, who was hiding behind the door waiting to take me out. Swearing, I grapple for a second with Mawali, pulling him off balance, making him tumble down the rusted metal stairs with me. 
The wrestling fight with him as we fall down the stairs is almost comical, as we struggle to get the upper hand while the stairs bounce and rattle on us. 
Halfway down the stairs, he lands heavily on top of me. I get my legs underneath him, and kick upwards, throwing him off me. He goes flying, apparently I kicked harder than I thought, and smashes down to the bottom of the stairs. A panicked wheeze coming out of him as he lands. I'm struggling to stand up, the air has been knocked out of me. By the time I get up, unsteadily, I see that Mawali has vanished. 
The basement is a storage room [url]http://www.dimensionsinfo.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/07/Dimension-of-a-Storage-Room.jpg]/url] And he must have disappeared into the shelves of cheap liquor and cleaning supplies. It's lit by a browning illumination strip on the ceiling, casting most of the room into shadows. I descend the stairs, liquid knuckles in hand. 
"Mawali? Don't fight me here. You'll spend some time behind bars, I know. But you come out now, and you behave well in prison, I'm certain that they'll treat you nicely. You keep struggling though, and I'm going to have no choice but to use lethal force."
As if in response to that statement, I hear a scuff of a heel on the cement, a grunt, and then the entire room is cast into darkness. 
When the music from upstairs stops it's muffled resonance, I realize that he shut off the power.