A Friday night out at a club was just what Clementine Thorne needed after a week of very long shifts at Stamford City Police Department's Intelligence Division. One of the downsides of her adopted mother also being her boss was that it felt impossible to say no when asked to do overtime.

Fatigue had been pushed aside by the excitement brought on by the prospect of a night of plenty of drink, some good music, and a lot of laughs with Naomi, her best friend. The only drawback was having to wait in line to get into The MVP Lounge.

"They don't treat you like MVPs outside, do they?" Naomi asked wryly.

Clementine laughed. "Not at all. Feels more like we're NIPs – Not Important People."

"Girl, speak for yourself. I'm one of the most distinguished guests they're going to have tonight," Naomi said, feigning pretentiousness.

Clementine laughed again. "Girl, there ain't a thing distinguished about you."

Both women laughed, enjoying the good-natured banter.

The sound of a short squeal of car tyres made Clementine look towards the road. She saw that a dark compact-style car had stopped. It was odd because it wasn't pulled up against the sidewalk, it was stopped in the middle of the lane. Although she wasn't a police officer herself, some of the associated instincts may have rubbed off on her, for she immediately sensed danger. She was about to warn Naomi, but she didn't get a chance.

The barrel of a gun appeared through the open passenger window.

"Gun!" Clementine yelled. Everything seemed to be happening in slow motion. The gun started firing as she called out. She knew she had to get down, and had to help Naomi to do so too.

Grabbing Naomi by the hand, Clementine began dropping to the floor, pulling her friend down with her. She felt a blow, like being punched in the upper left arm. Screams and rapid gunshots filled the air. The shooter was using an assault rifle to hose the line with bullets.

With another squeal of tyres and a roar from its engine, the car sped away. Just like that, before Clem had even been able to fully process what was happening, it was over. People were screaming and running about in panic. Others had hit the ground in an attempt to take cover like her and Naomi, she saw. Actually, no, not all of them. At least one young woman was lying dead. Clem could see that she had been shot in the head, above her left eye.

"Clem! Clem, what the fuck?" Naomi screamed from beside her, now in a kneeling position.

Clementine turned to look at her panic-stricken friend. "They're gone. Nay, are you hit?"

"No, but you are," Naomi said, looking back at her with wide eyes.

Only then did Clementine remember the feeling of a punch in her left arm. She looked down at it and saw a bullet wound with quite a lot of blood leaking from it. "Oh shit," she gasped. "Get me something to tourniquet this with. And call my mom."

Maybe it was shock catching up with her, or maybe it was the blood loss. Whatever the cause, Clementine felt herself slipping into unconsciousness.

A/N: Welcome to the latest story in my crime series which follows the career of officer Bayley Martinez. The others can be found listed on my profile page.