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Description
During their investigation into the recent slaughters that had been occurring throughout Los Angeles, Detective Leona Cantrell and her partners Lieutenant Mike Harrigan and fellow Detective Jerry Lambert were discussing the involvement of Agent Keyes and his supposed DEA unit. As Jerry was rambling on about losing Keyes somewhere around the slaughterhouse district, Mike came to a realization.
"So whatever Keyes is looking for, he's found it or damn close to it." Mike turned to Leona. "Leona, I want to meet with King Willie. Willie and I seem to have the same problem."
Leona stared at Mike incredulously, while Jerry climbed into the passenger side of their patrol car.
"Mike, it's impossible," Leona replied.
"Just do it."
"...Fuck." Leona shook her head as Mike walked over to the car. She rolled her eyes as she began walking off in the direction of an area where she had a pretty good idea some of Willie's goons hung out. Mike's stubbornness drove her up the walls at times, but she couldn't hold it against him.
They lost Danny. And she was just as determined as Mike to find the bastard who killed him and nail him to the wall.
An hour had passed as Leona briskly walked through a gloomy alleyway, the orange rays of the setting sun glowing through the narrow passage. As she reached the end of the passage, two imposing men with dreadlocks and gold-chain necklaces materialized from the shadows. Their ominous presence gave Leona chills, but she swallowed hard, trying to mask her trepidation.
"What's a pretty face like you doing by yourself out 'ere, eh?" one of the voodoo thugs asked.
Leona pressed her lips as she showed off her badge clipped to her pocket. "I'm hoping you can take me to see your boss," she firmly stated.
The taller of the two goons sneered, his eyes cold and lifeless. "Ya think ya can just waltz in, demandin' ta see King Willie? Who do ya think ya are?"
Leona's heart raced, recognizing the growing tension. Before she could respond, the larger brute lunged forward, overpowering her. He clamped a hand over her mouth and wrapped his other arm around her waist. Leona yelled curses behind the beefy hand as the other goon pulled out a small burlap sack.
"Ya want to take up the King's time, policewoman?" he taunted. "Well... I'm sure he won't mind a surprise guest."
Leona's muffled shouts were drowned out as the sack was pulled over her head.

Hours seemed to pass as Leona sat in the back of a moving car. She struggled in the tight ropes that were wrapped around her upper body, and the tight cloth that gagged her lips chafed against her skin. She could barely see anything with the sack shrouding her sight, and her other senses were dulled by the overwhelming aroma of weed permeating from inside the car. Eventually, the car came to a stop, and Leona felt a pair of rough hands yank her out of the passenger seat. She was marched into what seemed like the inside of a small warehouse, and she was forcibly seated in a metal folding chair. The sack was also pulled off her head, and Leona found herself face-to-face with King Willie himself. His imposing figure, adorned with Jamaican voodoo symbols, loomed over her.
"Very few choose to enter my kingdom uninvited," King Willie said in a low voice, his fingers tapping against the top of his cane. "And even fewer claim to have an urgent message for me."
Willie motioned to one of his disciples, who walked over and lifted the gag from Leona's mouth. The detective coughed as she craned her neck, the scent of weed still fresh in her nostrils. Undeterred by Willie's intimidating demeanor, Leona squared her shoulders and took a deep breath before addressing the leader of the Jamaican Voodoo Posse.
"Look, man. I didn't come here to cause any fuss, 'kay?" she started, locking eyes with the notorious kingpin. "I was sent by my partner, Mike Harrigan. He wants to speak with you."
A handful of voodoo gangsters chuckled darkly, but they were all silenced by a single wave of King Willie's hand.
"I know of him... Strong in body and mind, tenacious..." Willie droned on. "Quite the reputation in your precinct, eh?"
Leona sighed. "He and you - we're dealing with the same problem!" Leona got straight to the point. "Some psycho's been cutting up both our people and hanging 'em up like trophies!" She ground her teeth. "Your guys... My friend, Danny..."
A very brief wave of sympathy flashed across King Willie's face before his eyes narrowed. Some of the other Posse members muttered amongst themselves, and Leona knew she was winning the crowd when one of them mentioned losing a close friend to the "mysterious vigilante" at Ramon Vega's apartment.
"Mike thinks you may have some ideas about what we're dealing with here," Leona reasoned. "He's hoping to chat with you about it. You can even pick where to meet him."
King Willie tilted his head and took a single step forward. "I have your word dis ain't a trap, copper-girl?" he inquired, searching for any signs of deceit.
Leona met the crime lord's gaze, her voice unwavering. "I'm risking a lot right now to bring this hijo de puta in. Both our people'll sleep better once he's out of the picture, or ten feet in the ground." She leaned closer to hammer in her point. "We both have scores to settle here."
King Willie's stony expression remained unchanged. He walked closer to where Leona sat tied up, then pulled out a concealed rapier from his cane. Her eyes widened before she turned her head away, thinking one last prayer before her supposed death.
Willie swung down his rapier. Leona slowly opened her eyes to see her sliced ropes falling loosely to the ground, prompting a deep sigh of relief.
"I will meet with Harrigan, girly. But know dis...if you betray me, your soul belongs to me."
Leona stretched her sore arms as she nodded, getting the implied threat loud and clear. Her mind was already consumed with possible strategies to bring down the killer, along with any outcomes of the Jamaican Voodoo Posse stabbing them in the back (both figuratively and literally).
"Now get outta 'ere." King Willie flicked his hand toward the door Leona was escorted through. "I'll be sendin' some of mine to pick up yer friend. We'll be havin' a talk. No weapons... Not like they'll be any good for what's to come."
Leona arched a brow at his words but curbed her curiosity as she made her way out of the warehouse, where nighttime had finally set in. As soon as the door slammed shut behind her, Leona slumped over from her brush with death. She steadied her breath as she began making her way back to Alvarado Precinct.
"Mike, swear to God, you owe me big-time for this..." Leona muttered to herself.
Unbeknownst to her, the City Hunter was perched atop a nearby fire escape, concealed by his cloaking device as he observed Leona walking away at a quick pace. Using the language translator installed in his bio-helmet, the Yautja recited some of the last words of one of his most recent kills:
"There's a new king in da streets."

--Consider this an unused/deleted scene from Predator 2. After rewatching it recently, I consider it a good action-film and an underrated segment of the Predator franchise.
--Leona Cantrell was also an interesting character that grew on me after a while, and you can never go wrong with some good ol' fashioned detective damsel perils.

Description
During their investigation into the recent slaughters that had been occurring throughout Los Angeles, Detective Leona Cantrell and her partners Lieutenant Mike Harrigan and fellow Detective Jerry Lambert were discussing the involvement of Agent Keyes and his supposed DEA unit. As Jerry was rambling on about losing Keyes somewhere around the slaughterhouse district, Mike came to a realization.
"So whatever Keyes is looking for, he's found it or damn close to it." Mike turned to Leona. "Leona, I want to meet with King Willie. Willie and I seem to have the same problem."
Leona stared at Mike incredulously, while Jerry climbed into the passenger side of their patrol car.
"Mike, it's impossible," Leona replied.
"Just do it."
"...Fuck." Leona shook her head as Mike walked over to the car. She rolled her eyes as she began walking off in the direction of an area where she had a pretty good idea some of Willie's goons hung out. Mike's stubbornness drove her up the walls at times, but she couldn't hold it against him.
They lost Danny. And she was just as determined as Mike to find the bastard who killed him and nail him to the wall.
An hour had passed as Leona briskly walked through a gloomy alleyway, the orange rays of the setting sun glowing through the narrow passage. As she reached the end of the passage, two imposing men with dreadlocks and gold-chain necklaces materialized from the shadows. Their ominous presence gave Leona chills, but she swallowed hard, trying to mask her trepidation.
"What's a pretty face like you doing by yourself out 'ere, eh?" one of the voodoo thugs asked.
Leona pressed her lips as she showed off her badge clipped to her pocket. "I'm hoping you can take me to see your boss," she firmly stated.
The taller of the two goons sneered, his eyes cold and lifeless. "Ya think ya can just waltz in, demandin' ta see King Willie? Who do ya think ya are?"
Leona's heart raced, recognizing the growing tension. Before she could respond, the larger brute lunged forward, overpowering her. He clamped a hand over her mouth and wrapped his other arm around her waist. Leona yelled curses behind the beefy hand as the other goon pulled out a small burlap sack.
"Ya want to take up the King's time, policewoman?" he taunted. "Well... I'm sure he won't mind a surprise guest."
Leona's muffled shouts were drowned out as the sack was pulled over her head.

Hours seemed to pass as Leona sat in the back of a moving car. She struggled in the tight ropes that were wrapped around her upper body, and the tight cloth that gagged her lips chafed against her skin. She could barely see anything with the sack shrouding her sight, and her other senses were dulled by the overwhelming aroma of weed permeating from inside the car. Eventually, the car came to a stop, and Leona felt a pair of rough hands yank her out of the passenger seat. She was marched into what seemed like the inside of a small warehouse, and she was forcibly seated in a metal folding chair. The sack was also pulled off her head, and Leona found herself face-to-face with King Willie himself. His imposing figure, adorned with Jamaican voodoo symbols, loomed over her.
"Very few choose to enter my kingdom uninvited," King Willie said in a low voice, his fingers tapping against the top of his cane. "And even fewer claim to have an urgent message for me."
Willie motioned to one of his disciples, who walked over and lifted the gag from Leona's mouth. The detective coughed as she craned her neck, the scent of weed still fresh in her nostrils. Undeterred by Willie's intimidating demeanor, Leona squared her shoulders and took a deep breath before addressing the leader of the Jamaican Voodoo Posse.
"Look, man. I didn't come here to cause any fuss, 'kay?" she started, locking eyes with the notorious kingpin. "I was sent by my partner, Mike Harrigan. He wants to speak with you."
A handful of voodoo gangsters chuckled darkly, but they were all silenced by a single wave of King Willie's hand.
"I know of him... Strong in body and mind, tenacious..." Willie droned on. "Quite the reputation in your precinct, eh?"
Leona sighed. "He and you - we're dealing with the same problem!" Leona got straight to the point. "Some psycho's been cutting up both our people and hanging 'em up like trophies!" She ground her teeth. "Your guys... My friend, Danny..."
A very brief wave of sympathy flashed across King Willie's face before his eyes narrowed. Some of the other Posse members muttered amongst themselves, and Leona knew she was winning the crowd when one of them mentioned losing a close friend to the "mysterious vigilante" at Ramon Vega's apartment.
"Mike thinks you may have some ideas about what we're dealing with here," Leona reasoned. "He's hoping to chat with you about it. You can even pick where to meet him."
King Willie tilted his head and took a single step forward. "I have your word dis ain't a trap, copper-girl?" he inquired, searching for any signs of deceit.
Leona met the crime lord's gaze, her voice unwavering. "I'm risking a lot right now to bring this hijo de puta in. Both our people'll sleep better once he's out of the picture, or ten feet in the ground." She leaned closer to hammer in her point. "We both have scores to settle here."
King Willie's stony expression remained unchanged. He walked closer to where Leona sat tied up, then pulled out a concealed rapier from his cane. Her eyes widened before she turned her head away, thinking one last prayer before her supposed death.
Willie swung down his rapier. Leona slowly opened her eyes to see her sliced ropes falling loosely to the ground, prompting a deep sigh of relief.
"I will meet with Harrigan, girly. But know dis...if you betray me, your soul belongs to me."
Leona stretched her sore arms as she nodded, getting the implied threat loud and clear. Her mind was already consumed with possible strategies to bring down the killer, along with any outcomes of the Jamaican Voodoo Posse stabbing them in the back (both figuratively and literally).
"Now get outta 'ere." King Willie flicked his hand toward the door Leona was escorted through. "I'll be sendin' some of mine to pick up yer friend. We'll be havin' a talk. No weapons... Not like they'll be any good for what's to come."
Leona arched a brow at his words but curbed her curiosity as she made her way out of the warehouse, where nighttime had finally set in. As soon as the door slammed shut behind her, Leona slumped over from her brush with death. She steadied her breath as she began making her way back to Alvarado Precinct.
"Mike, swear to God, you owe me big-time for this..." Leona muttered to herself.
Unbeknownst to her, the City Hunter was perched atop a nearby fire escape, concealed by his cloaking device as he observed Leona walking away at a quick pace. Using the language translator installed in his bio-helmet, the Yautja recited some of the last words of one of his most recent kills:
"There's a new king in da streets."

--Consider this an unused/deleted scene from Predator 2. After rewatching it recently, I consider it a good action-film and an underrated segment of the Predator franchise.
--Leona Cantrell was also an interesting character that grew on me after a while, and you can never go wrong with some good ol' fashioned detective damsel perils.