Krieger had started rummaging about across the abandoned factory in amongst the redundant machinery and random junk that had been dumped there. After a brief minute or two she eventually found a chair that seemed to be sturdy and dragged it over to the girl who was still stood, shaking and quivering.

'WHAT the fuck Krieger you could've shot me!'

'Frank shut the fuck up and give the girl your coat.'

'BUT YOU...'

'Shut, the fuck up Frank. And give the girl your fucking coat.'

Krieger was not up for having an argument which she made blatantly apparent in the tone of her voice. Frank huffed and shrugged off his leather bomber jacket which still had remnants of Clement stuck to it, then handed it to Krieger. She carefully held the coat out and gestured for the young woman to slide her arms in to it. The coat would cover her up at least considering Clement had torn her clothing off, baring her underwear. Krieger then dragged the chair she had found closer to the girl and gently guided her to sit down, giving her a quick check over to see if she had any injuries that were serious enough to require immediate attention. Thankfully the injuries she did have on her body were only large but deep grazes, some bruising that had started to form and several cuts that had already started to clot. The Chase clean up and recovery crew would be here within minutes to retrieve Clements body and bring both Frank and Krieger back to Chase HQ. What they were going to do with the girl was a completely different matter.

'Well done Cas.' Ronson had finally spoken up inside of Krieger's head.

'Cheers mate.' She replied to him, remembering she left her boots outside. She went to retrieve them and dropped them on the floor beside the chair where the girl was sat. Krieger still could feel lumps and shards of metal and glass in her feet; poking through her socks but it wasn't really bothering her. As soon as she stopped walking about and sat down for a bit, her nanomachines would eventually push the foreign bodies out from her flesh. If they were working properly that is, if not then she had to sit with her feet in a bucket of that disgusting medigel for an hour while the tissue on her feet repaired. And that was something Krieger didn't really want to do as it would seriously cut in to her celebratory partying time. But first she had something to sort out.

'What's your name sweetie?' Krieger asked the young woman who had now calmed down a bit.

'Tessa. It's Tessa.'

'Chris, do me a favour would you?' Krieger switched to neuralcomms.

'Sure thing babes, what you want?'

'Tell the Chase guys I want this girls medical needs taken care of and it's non-negotiable. If they want to have a fight with me over it I'm more than willing. Her name is Tessa and if they don't look after her I'm gonna blow up their fucking studio with them in it.'

'I'm with you on that one Cas.' Krieger heard the exasperation in Ronson's voice. They should've blown Clement's head off the instant he took a hostage but they didn't.'

'Hang on mate I'll see you shortly, the vans are here now.'

Krieger knelt down and laid a hand on Tessa's shoulder and spoke calmly to her.

'Tessa are you okay to walk? The transport's here to take us back to the Chase HQ I've requested they take care of you.'

The girl's face contorted and she burst in to tears as she lunged forward toward Krieger and threw her arms around her.

'Thank you!' The girl squealed through deep sobbing. 'I thought, I thought he was gonna kill me.' She continued to heave her words out. Krieger loosened herself from Tessa's grip and placed her hands on her shoulders.

'Not in a million years, not when I was there.' Krieger reassured her.

'You didn't have to take the risk of shooting me though, or the girl.' Frank piped up. He had stayed quiet, relatively quiet for Frank that is. Normally he would be talking away for apparently no reason other than to hear the sound of his own voice.

'But I FUCKING DID though Frank.' Krieger shot back up and snarled at the man, slowly creeping toward him which made him back up slightly. 'You were stood there trying to talk the sadistic cunt down like a total fucking pratt and he could've easily sliced through poor Tessa's neck quicker than you could fucking shoot him, you absolute peen-arse.'

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'And you're so sure of that?' Frank retorted. It was the worst thing he could've said.

'Look at your gun.'

'Why?'

'Humour me. Look at your gun.'

Frank huffed and pulled his fancy looking Beretta out of it's holster. He checked it from all angled and finally noticed what Krieger had noticed age ago. And now Krieger had seen a slight twitch on Frank's face when he saw.

'Fucking amateur.' Krieger shook her head and went back to Tessa, helping the girl up from the seat. She held one arm round her shoulders and her boots in her other hand.

Frank had left the safety on his gun.

Back at Chase HQ, Krieger had just sat down on a spare chair at the station Ronson had been sat at. She insisted that Tessa come and sit with her, while she was reclining had her feet soaking in a bowl of medigel and while a medic tended to Tessa's own injuries. Ronson had been over to the service table and brought them both back a large brandy. The three all sat together, idly chit-chatting and minding their own business as the rest of the Chase HQ busied themselves.

Krieger was telling Ronson how she had been watching Frank and how he had left the safety on his gun; which is possibly the most stupidest thing you could do when aiming your gun at a convicted rapist and murderer during a competition where the whole point was to hunt these people down and end them. The hosts were rushing about interviewing all the other Chase hunters, working their way through till they got to Krieger last. Erik had considered going over to congratulate her but thought against it as Frank had commandeered him after having his interview; which in Frank's opinion was the most embarrassing thing he had ever been through in a long time.

'She's really, really mad at me this time.' Frank said to Erik, necking back the whiskey he had in his glass. Frank's nerves were getting the better of him. Not only had he come second place to Krieger but she had quite literally given him the biggest chewing out and on live TV no less. He had seen the playback of it all and it was not pretty, Krieger was right in noticing he had left the safety on his gun during the entire altercation; and the cameras had confirmed it all. The two men watched as the Chase hosts all swarmed around Krieger who was still slouched back in her chair, sipping her huge brandy with her leggings rolled up and her feet still submerged in the bucket of medigel. A staff member had walked over prior to the sudden onslaught of cameras and questions directed at her, telling Krieger that she couldn't smoke the cigarette she had just lit to which she quite clearly and simply replied; "fuck off." She really was not in the mood for any of the faffing about that was happening and anybody in the entire building who looked in that direction just knew it. Frank had made himself scarce for a little while, embarrassed as hell that he had lost this year due to his own ego.

Erik was biding his time at the service table till the camera crew and hosts left after doing their interview with Krieger and Ronson. The girl, Tessa who had been beside Krieger the whole time had been taken away to the hospital on order of the medic who didn't have the kit to deal with some of her more deeper cuts and wounds that required stitches. Erik watched intently as the girl insisted that she didn't need to go to the hospital and would be perfectly fine, but it was apparent she was worrying about paying for it. Krieger had collared the medic and said something to him which left him nodding intently. Tessa was taken away with a thankful smile on her face and a tear running down her cheek.

Erik found his opportunity to finally to and talk to Krieger after everyone had left, including Ronson. He poured himself a glass of bourbon and casually walked up, towering over Krieger who had slumped further down in to her chair and had closed her eyes.

'Can I sit?' He politely asked her. She opened her eyes.

'Help yourself.' Krieger rearranged herself in her seat and took another drink of her brandy.

'So, how are you doing?'

'Y'know, that's the first time somebody's asked me that question this last hour and sounded sincere.'

'I figured you could use that right now.'

Krieger just looked at him and smirked.

'You look like you wanna ask me something?' Krieger drank from her glass again, she was nearing the end of her brandy.

'I was going to, but I dunno. It doesn't seem like a good time.' Erik sheepishly smiled.

'Hey, any time's as good and any. Shoot.'

'Well I was wondering if...' Erik hesitated for a brief moment. 'If you wanted to go out with me, some night.'

'Yes.'

Erik was stunned at the speed Krieger had replied with her answer.

'Um, great! How does tomorrow night sound?'

'Perfect actually. You're coming to the beach tomorrow though aren't you?' Krieger asked.

'The beach?'

'Yeah it's like a post-Chase tradition. The first day of the trades is the day after the Chase finishes and it's when everybody who has it off goes down to the beach to chill, drink, have barbecues and all that stuff.' Krieger explained.

'That sounds fun actually.'

'It is. It's great just to you know, hang out and not do anything.' Krieger said. She lifted her left foot out of the medigel bath and craned round to have a look at the sole. Pretty much all of the punctures and lacerations had gone. Krieger's nanomachines had apparently decided to work at half capacity and were taking their time in healing her skin. Normally when they were at full working capacity, they could push a bullet out of her flesh and close the wound in seconds. She had no such luck today and the medigel was needed; especially because she wanted to finish up with all of the shows nonsense and get straight to the pub for the after party.

'Anyway I'll leave you to it.' Erik said as he stood up. 'I'd better go and find Frank see if he's done licking his wounds.'

'Stupid arse he is.' Krieger groaned. 'He's got more mouth than a cow has cunt.'

Erik spluttered as he was taking a drink of his bourbon, coughing slightly and trying not to laugh out loud. He had to walk away, stifling his laughter.