In Death 08 - Conspiracy in Death

he was charging. She pivoted, breath grunting out, as she spun into a back kick to catch him center body.
    "Police, you stupid son of a bitch. Freeze."
    She crouched, her weapon in both hands, prepared to shoot out a stunning blast, when the program shoved her into brilliant sunlight. Her weapon was still out, her finger twitching on the trigger. But now it pointed at a woman holding a screaming child.
    Heart pistoning in her chest, she jerked the weapon up. She could hear her own ragged pants as she lowered it.
    They were on a rooftop. The sun was blinding, the heat enormous. And the woman stood swaying on a narrow ledge. She looked at Eve with eyes that seemed already dead. And the child struggled and shrieked.
    "Don't come any closer."
    "Okay. Look, look, I'm putting it away. Watch." Keeping her movement slow, Eve holstered her weapon. "I just want to talk to you. What's your name?"
    "You can't stop me."
    "No, I can't." Where the hell was her backup? Where was the jumper team, the shrinks? Name of God. "What's the kid's name?"
    "I can't take care of him anymore. I'm tired."
    "He's scared." Sweat rolled down her back as she eased a step closer. It was brutally hot, heat bouncing off the sticky tar of the roof in shimmering waves. "And he's hot. So are you. Why don't we go back there in the shade for a minute?"
    "He cries all the damn time. All night. I never get any sleep. I can't stand it."
    "Maybe you should give him to me. He's heavy. What's his name?"
    "Pete." Sweat poured off the woman's face, had her short, dark hair sticking in ringlets to her cheeks. "He's sick. We're both sick, so what's the point?"
    The child was screaming, one shrieking wail after another. The sound of it sliced her head, her heart. "I know some people who can help."
    "You're just a fucking cop. You can't do shit."
    "If you jump, nobody can. Jesus, it's hot out here. Let's go inside, figure this out."
    The woman let out a weary sigh. "Go to hell."
    Eve made the leap, caught the boy around the waist as the woman leaned forward. His screams were like razors scraping over her brain as she made one desperate grab. She hooked the woman under the armpit, dug in desperately while her muscles trembled and threatened to rip. The toes of her boots slapped hard into the wall of the ledge to keep the weight from sending them all to the sidewalk below.
    "Hold on. Goddamn it." Sweat poured into her eyes, stinging, blinding while she struggled for better purchase. The boy was wiggling like a wet fish. "Grab onto me!" she shouted as the woman stared up at her with eyes already empty.
    "Sometimes you're better off dead. You should know. Dallas." The woman smiled as she said Eve's name. And she laughed as Eve's grip began to slip.
    Then she was in another alley, shivering, curled into a ball of pain and numb shock.
    And she was a child, battered and broken, without a name, without a past.
    They were using her own memories now, sliding them in from her early data records. She hated them for it, hated them with a rage that simmered nastily under a slick coat of panic.
    An alley in Dallas, a young girl with a bloody face, a broken arm, and nowhere to run.
    Goddamn you. Damn all of you. She's not part of this. She wanted to scream it, to fight her way clear of the influence and images being poured into her brain and crash through the glass wall.
    Her pulse began to race, her rage began to rise. And with barely a blink, the program shifted her to the streets of lower Manhattan, on a frigid night. Bowers stood in front of her, leering.
    "You stupid bitch, I'll bury you in complaints. Everyone's going to know what you are. Nothing but a whore who fucked her way up the ranks."
    "You've got a real problem, Bowers. Maybe after I finish writing you up for insubordination, threatening a superior officer, and being a general asshole, the department will find its balls and kick you clear."
    "We'll see who they kick." Bowers shoved hard, taking Eve back two steps.
    The fury was there, right there, shooting out of her heart, trembling in her fingertips. "Don't put your hands on me."
    "What the hell are you going to do about it? Nobody's here but you and me. You think you can come down on my turf and make threats."
    "I'm not threatening you, I'm telling you. Keep your hands off me, keep out of my face, out of my business, or you'll pay for it."
    "I'm going to ruin you. I'm going to strip you bare and expose you, and there's not a damn thing you can do to stop me."
    "Yeah.