[B][center][h2]Paige Kennedy[/h2][/center][/b]

Paige watched the man crumple over to the floor not unlike the little street thug from whom she pulled Milo's revolver. He hit the floor hard with a gasping huff. The blow had taken the wind out of his lungs and he fought with straining breaths for oxygen. Her face was cold and discerning as she looked down on him. Milo thought she was keeping him from pummeling the man further, but it was actually [i]he[/i] that was keeping [i]her[/i] from taking it a step further. Jackie was getting off easy, for now. She put her knee on his back and proceeded to cuff him. He grumbled something and she tightened the metal rings down hard into his wrists with a ratcheting click. "Oh, Jackie," She said with feigned empathy. "When this is over with you're gonna wish I'd blacked you out with a bullet." She moved on searching his pockets and his jacket, putting everything he had on the table: A phone, his wallet, a few loose business cards and a set of keys to a Lincoln. "You're not going back to some country-club lockup this time," She continued, "No, this time it's the [i]Federal Pen[/i]." She pulled a larger handgun from the small of his back and then another light caliber from an ankle holster, removing the magazines and racking the slides so he could see himself being completely disarmed as the chambered rounds bounced away in his view. "I figure after you get tossed around like a pool toy for a few weeks you'll come around, maybe even make a good Barbie doll yourself."

Satisfied with her search she got up and wiped her hands with one of Milo's shop cloths. She looked carefully at his wound as she took out her phone and sent out a prepared call. In less than a minute a cadre of unmarked Marshal Service vehicles and State Police were at Milo's doorstep to haul away Jackie Costa. In her checking-into of Jackie, Paige had run across some vague connections to SCPD, something he'd inadvertently confirmed when Milo revealed the large revolver she recovered. Consequently, they hadn't informed the City Police of being on the gangster's trail. She suspected long ago that some of them were dirty. It was the same anywhere. 

"He gonna need an ambulance?" A fairly tall and fit State Trooper said looking at Milo patting his wound. 

"Dont waste your time," Paige replied, "He's too stubborn for that. I'll patch him up. I need the practice, it's been a while."

"Heard this was your second one today?" The Trooper said.

"Yea, we got that little puke at the Ritz early this morning." Paige said.

"Where're you from?" The man asked. His stony features became more quizzical. 

"Delta City."

The Trooper nodded, "I like that accent," He produced a business card and handed it to her. Looking around briefly, everyone had what they had come for and he nodded lightly in satisfaction that Jackie was in custody. "Well if you've got King Aragon here taken care of we're gonna be on our way. Gimmie a call if you need anything." He tipped the brim of his crisp campaign hat in old west style and Paige gave him a little smirk. She had no idea who King Aragon was. 

After they were gone, she rummaged through a few drawers in the kitchen and came back with a small first aid kit, a bottle half-full of clear liquid, a wooden spoon and a couple glasses. "Alright, I'm not promising it will be pretty," She proclaimed, setting everything down next to Jackie's captured treasure-trove of items. She couldn't wait to look through his phone or see where the car's GPS had gone. "But I promise it will hold." She pulled a chair up and sat on the table to get an easier angle to work. Pushing her sleeves back she poured him a small glass and slid it over along with the spoon as she began setting everything out to stitch up his arm. 

[@RoccanIronclad]