Paradise Falling...
Chapter 12 of a CyberSix fan fiction
In an alternate universe.
By Ptah Aegyptus
Dark Branch
|
Independent Opinions: Editorial page of The Independent. Special Edition.
Fortunate Outcomes It is with mixed emotions that this paper has published the headline story by our newest investigative reporter, Lucas Amato. His report, coupled with the recent murders in our city of those suspected of underworld connections, has confirmed our fears of the ambitious rise of a new leader of organized crime. His reprehensible kidnapping of Ikikko Yashimoto in order to conceal his identity has served to confirm his ruthlessness and lack of human compassion. As readers of the lead article know, this leader has turned out to be Miguel Cornazon, the notoriously deceptive ex-drug lord who was driven out of his jungle sanctuary by the native uprising following the excape of Police Chief William Ryan. Having been unable to continue plaguing the country, this parasite has now come to infect our city. Unlike that earlier kidnapping, we are pleased that there was no anxiety, fears or prayers expressed concerning the fate of Ikikko, who was quickly and valiantly rescued and returned safely to her brother. We assure our readers that both brother and sister are at a safe house run by this paper, and will remain there under our care and protection until this bandit's reign of terror is ended. We pledge to continue vigorously investigating and reporting on this grave development that threatens the peace and safety of our fellow citizens, while thanking Providence for the safe return of a little member of our community.
Wise Decisions We note with approval the summary dismissal by Judge Carlos Megillo of malpractice charges leveled at Meridiana General Hospital and Dr. Reba Pearce, the ER doctor responsible for the care of the thugs wounded during the rescue of Ikikko Yashimoto. Indeed, these ingrates should be grateful that she was visiting the ER when they were brought in, and thus benefitted from the skills she aquired and so ably demonstrated in the States. Judge Megillo correctly pointed out that these accomplices to kidnapping lied about the cause of their injuries. Thus, Dr. Pearce had every reason, based on her observations of the nature of their injuries, and on her experience (which is considerable and should not be questioned regarding the criminal elements in our society), to disbelieve them and act by her own best judgment. Indeed, their falsehoods might have led a lesser physician to make incorrect judgments that would have threatened their recovery, if not their very lives. Once again, Judge Megillo
has shown the courage and wisdom necessary to forsee and prevent a miscarriage
of justice. We hope that he will be the one to conduct the trial
of Cornazon and his henchmen once they are apprehended.
While on the subject of Dr. Pearce, we were pleased, but not at all surprised, to discover that Cyprus and Serena Trodden have taken it upon themselves to retain the services of the good doctor to care for Ikikko Yashimoto during her recovery from this terrible ordeal. Dr. Pearce's initial report is that, by happy coincidence, the interaction occurring immediately after the rescue between Ikikko and the Trodden's daughter, Bethany, was the best "first aid" therapy possible. The prospects of her suffering no lasting harm, we are told, are very good. So it is with our prayers,
best wishes, and confidence that we leave this fortunate child in the hands
of the finest pediatrician in our city, if not in the Southwest hemisphere.
We also wish to commend the Troddens for adding yet another compassionate
act of charity to the multitude that they have already rendered to our
city, and urge that visitors to the Trodden residence excuse the excessive
parential pride they must now be justifiably feeling about their daughter.
Mysterious Puzzles We should not let our relief and thankfulness about the rescue of Ikikko blind us to several mysteries surrounding this and another related event. We are referring, of course, to the circumstances of the rescue itself, as well as those surrounding the unusual escape of Police Chief William Ryan from the very same individual. Although we were thankful for the return of our talented and resourceful Police Chief, his silence concerning the events that initiated the prison riot in Cornazon's camp remain a puzzle. That riot, our readers are reminded, led to the arming of the imprisoned farmers that refused to go along with Cornazon, the general uprising of the entire region, and the killing of most of Cornazon's bandits. We now know it also has led to him coming to our unfortunate city. It is equally a puzzle that no encrypted radio transmissions were made during the night when Ikikko Yashimoto was rescued, which would have been logically required to call out all active police units to participate in the operation. Chief Ryan has admitted to recieving a "hot tip" about the impending firefight, but did nothing other than to send two officers with shotguns to secure the ward that eventually held the suspects. Our readers are referred to the story on page 2 concerning our investigation, after Ikikko's rescue, of the warehouse where she was held, and our interviews of the accused who were able to talk. Their testimony of a woman, clad in black leather, being the sole person responsible for their injuries and the rescue must obviously be received with considerable skepticism. This woman, assuming these reports are true, would have to be possessed of incredible speed, considerable strength, extraordinary marksmanship, astounding dexterity, and the possessor of a level of strategic and tactical insight worthy of an American Army Ranger or Navy Seal commander. An initial interview with Ikikko was unsuccessful in revealing the true circumstances regarding the rescue. We hasten to assure our readers that she has told us that no one had threatened her if she talked, and that her silence was due to the obvious desire of her rescuers to remain anonymous. Memory loss associated with trauma is not indicated, for she was able not only to identify her captors, but had met Cornazon himself and was able to identify him out of a set of photographs. Brave girl, to be willing to testify against these brutes! We commend her loyalty to those who risked their lives for her, but we are still left with our puzzle. A few clues and facts, however, allow us to see the faint outline of the shadow behind the reality. Firstly, our City's Police Chief has refused to comment about the details of his escape. At first, we believed this was motivated by modesty, but this last incident leads us now to believe otherwise. We believe he knows the identity and nature of his rescuers, but that his commendable honesty forbids him the luxury of a flat denial. The nature of Cornazon's jungle stronghold has been long known thanks to satellite technology shared with our nation by the United States Drug Enforcement Agency and the Central Intelligence Agency. The nature of that rescue seems to mirror the cirumstances surrounding Ikikko's, leading us to conclude that the same individuals performed both rescues. The second clue comes from the nature of both rescues themselves. It has been established by investiations of Cornazon's abandoned jungle compound and interviews with the former prisoners that all of the fatalities were inflicted by the prisoners, not the rescuers themselves. Instead, the prisoner-farmers told us of a diversion created near the dormitory area of the compound that drew away almost all of Cornazon's men there, allowing a black clad figure to enter the prison and free Chief Ryan. It was Chief Ryan who passed the keys to the prisoners. After they freed themselves, they found the guards unconsious and the weapons locker broken open, enabling them to arm themselves and successfully fight and defeat Cornazon's men, who had depleted their ammunition fighting the diversion. Connect these facts with the fact that all of Cornazon's bandits holding Ikikko were injured and not killed. Certainly, some were severely injured, but death would not have resulted if they were promptly taken to a hospital. Our readers are reminded that the policy of all Special Forces units worldwide charged with combatting terrorism is "Shoot to kill". The wounded may still be able to shoot, the reasoning goes, so kill them before they kill you. Combine this observation with the fact that the rescue unit did not deliver Ikikko to a police station, but instead to the Trodden residence. This is highly significant: the rescuers went out of their way to avoid any association with the police. A Special Forces unit run by the military would have returned her to the custody of another governmental agency, not to the care of a private citizen. A private rightist paramilitary group might have the resources to train the members of this force to a fair level of skill and competence, but not to a level that the local Amercian military attache has characterized as surpassing what can be mustered by the best military forces of the world. Besides, they would have adopted the same policy regarding lethal force, and would not have left any of these thugs alive. Thus, we are led to suggest the possible existence of a secret Special Forces unit within our own police department; developed, deployed, and kept tighly on a leash by no one other than Ryan himself. While the presence of such a unit under earlier police chiefs would have posed a definite and grave danger to the liberties of the citizenry, they did not possess the insight, ingenuity, and sterling character of the present occupant of the office required to develop the force itself and instill within its members the remarkable restraint demonstrated during these rescues. Skepticism is understandable: Given the world-class level of professionalism and skill demonstrated by the unit during these actions, how did Ryan do it and from where did he get the funds and trainees? However, the promised transformation of the police department itself by Chief Ryan was greeted with even more skepticism and doubt, with this paper being the admitted ringleader of the doubting Thomases. One should not blame Chief Ryan for wanting a first rate Special Forces unit to compliment a first rate police department in situations like this, nor should anyone repeat our mistake of underestimating his ability to come up with the means to get the job done. We conclude this lengthly special editorial section on four notes, one of warning, one of thanks, one of caution, and one of advice. Firstly, it is you, Cornazon, not the citizens of Meridiana, who should be sleeping uneasily tonight. Your pretensions of generosity and compassion have been exploded thanks to this disgusting act of stupidity and cowardice in kidnapping a pre-teenager. We hope and expect soon to see you either in jail or in a coffin. Secondly, to the Special Forces unit under Ryan's command: Well done! Thirdly, to Police Chief Ryan. The existence of a secret force of this competence and skill dedicated to our protection is cause for relief, but also of concern: Your successor may not be as great a man of integrity and dedication as you are, and may misuse it like your predecessors would. We call on your legendary ingenuity to implement the necessary safeguards against misuse of this incredible asset, so that they may continue to serve as the protectors of the people, and not their masters. Fourthly, to Mayor Wilson: Give these men a raise! |
-------------------------
Mr. Diortti chuckled and struck the armrest
of his chair as he finished reading the editorial section of The Independent.
"What is it, Papa?" Mrs. Diortti asked, looking up from her knitting.
"You should read today's Independent, including the editorials! Hah! I am not sure whether to believe in the woman in black leather or in the special police force unit, but Cornazon is going to get his just deserts, one way or the other!"
"Woman in black leather? Special police force unit? Give that to me! What are they talking about?"
Mr. Diortti passed the paper over to her,
then settled back and lit up the Cuban cigar he had bought when he saw
the headlines, "Hmm, I think we know someone who they're talking about."
he mused, "No matter which one is telling the truth."
---------------------
"BETHANY!!!" Techno 54 called.
"What mommy?" came floating down. The patter of feet was heard as they ran to the stairs, then down the stairs, through the front hall, to end by skidding to a halt in front of her mother.
Serena, Techno 54, knelt down and threw
her arms around her little girl to give her a big hug, Cyprus, Techno 53,
put down his copy of The Independent and got up to await his turn.
----------------------
"Dr. Pearce! Dr. Pearce!" Mr. Ariosto,
manager of Merdiana General Hosptial, called after the short figure striding
down the hall.
"WHAT!?" She turned, irritated, to glare at him, thinking "You overweight, pompous, pennypinching son of a-"
"Did you see today's Independent?" he asked, huffing and waving it in her face.
"I've been on my feet for 48 hours, running all over this hospital and Meridiana! I'm due for a half hour break! I DON'T want to spend it with YOU!" she snapped at him.
"That lawsuit was dismissed!" he pointed at the paper, "And there is a great write up about you in the paper today! It is wonderful advertising for the hospital!"
"If you weren't shmoozing on the golf course all day, or stuffing your face at your power lunches, you'd have found out the moment it happened!" she said, rolling her eyes.
"But I didn't know you knew the Troddens!"
"Well-" she started, thinking "Oh SHIT!"
"Do you think you could talk to them into increasing their donation to the hospital during the next charity fund drive?"
"I'll think about it! Now quit bugging me!" she said, plucking the paper out of his hand, thinking, "The man's brains must be made of paper money or loose change!"
She glanced at the paper as she went into the Doctor's lounge.
Twenty minutes later, the nurses at the floor station were startled to hear hysterical laughter coming from the lounge.
"Sounds like Reba." one remarked.
"Must be a good joke." said another, "Maybe
she'll share it with us."
-----------------
Lucas Amato frowned as he put down his
copy of The Independent. Sally, the waitress, came by with
a pot of coffee, "Why the glum face, Lucas? That was a great article!"
she said, "Want another cup?"
"Yes, please." he thought for a long moment, "Something isn't adding up, and I need to find the missing figures."
"Really? Think it'll be another great story?" she asked.
"I dunno. Just need to cover all the bases." he said.
"Good luck."
"Thanks."
Lucas was deep in thought when Elaine entered the cafe, "HI Lucas!" she greeted him, "Great article!"
"Hi Elaine." he said calmly, getting up to help seat her at their table, "Thanks. Late classes again?"
She made a face, "They keep piling on the remedial reading classes! You'd think I was a miracle worker!"
"Hmhmmm." he nodded noncomittaly, looking at the menu that Sally had brought for both of them.
After ordering, Elaine looked at Lucas, "Something is up." she said, "You're not your usual, talkative self."
"The editorial in the paper."
"Oh, the one about the Special Forces police unit that rescued Ikikko?" She said, "Seemed logical to me."
"Except," he said, raising a finger, "I was with you when you asked for the address of the warehouse where Ikikko was held, and left assuring Yashimoto that something would get done. I was there when we took Yashimoto to the Troddens to pick up his sister. When he expressed a desire to thank her rescuers, I overheard Mrs. Trodden expressing a desire to speak with HER too."
"But the editorial-" Elaine started, paling a little.
"-was written by the same bonehead editor who kept adding monster threats to my bioengineering articles!" Lucas said. He reached down into his briefcase and pulled out a magazine which he tossed onto the table between them.
Elaine nervously swallowed hard as Lucas flipped the National Geographic open to a place where there was a sticky note. The top picture dominating both sides of the spread was that of a wolf trotting through the snow. In the lower left hand corner was a picture of Elaine, holding a 35mm camera, looking through some ice covered branches.
"So, what is the world's expert in Wolves
and Wolf reintroductions doing here in Meridiana teaching literature and
remedial reading, and not at Yellowstone where she really belongs?"
---------------------
"HEY HENRIQUE!" A storekeeper called to
the plainclothes policeman who was walking by on patrol, "Good job!" he
gave Henrique a thumbs up and a wink.
"Now where did that come from?" Henrique wondered as he walked by the newstand. He stopped and leaned down for a quick look at the headlines of the latest issue of The Independent, "I'll have one." he said, pointing to it and reaching into his back pocket for some change.
The newsstand vendor chuckled and put down his copy of the paper to take the money, "Hey Henrique! You probably know more than the paper does, so do you really need it?"
"Nobody tells me anything!" Henrique thought, annoyed, as he tucked the paper under his arm and continued his sweep.
The man chuckled again as he picked up
the paper, "Woman in black leather my ass! I wouldn't bet that Henrique
WASN'T one of those special forces cops!" he muttered to himself, smiling.
----------------------
"But- Yes mayor, but-but it's just speculation!
Look, there isn't enough money in the budget for new handcuffs, much less
a-
*SIGH* "Yes sir! I'll try to get it to them, sir, which will be difficult, since they really don't exist."*SIGH* "I appreciate the complement, but I really am a rotten actor, sir!
"Safeguards? Not a problem sir! No problem putting safeguards on a special forces unit that doesn't exist- What sir? Well, IF there was one, I'd have done that alread-"
"Umm, no sir. That would NOT be necessary. I really don't need a raise too. Sir? Sir? Damn! He hung up!"
Type 37 shut his cell phone off, scowling.
"What was that dear?" Type 138 asked, not looking up from her magazine.
He looked at the cell phone irritably, "I just got congratulated and given a raise for my special forces unit that rescued that little girl the night before! The one that doesn't exist yet!"
"That's nice. You were planning one, weren't you?"
"Yes, but only when I got my hands on some Cybers to put in it!" he exclaimed, "I'll be retired by the time the first ones decide to get out after their 20 years and come by wanting a police job!"
"Honey, you only need one, you know."
"I dunno." He sighed, "Frankly, I'm amazed. I didn't think she had it in her to plan that rescue."
"356 did a fine job, despite her horrid fashion sense!" she sighed, "Black leather? Oh dear! What's mama going to think about that?"
His cell phone chirped.
"Oh hell!" he exclaimed, noting the caller's phone number that was flashing on the phone's LCD display, "I think I'm about to find out!"
"Just think! There's got to be a
good joke somewhere in all this for Christmas!" his wife said brightly,
"Be sure to give her my love!"
--------------------------
"Wow! I understood most of that!"
Gordo exclaimed, looking up at Scylla.
"Well, I didn't know most of those big words, but we're learning to read!" Julian hopped out of his chair at the table in the back kitchen area at the Irish Mug, where Scylla was conducting their reading lessons. He made like he was pointing a gun, "POW! POW! POW! Gotcha, ya mean kidnappers! Man! I'd like to get on that special unit of Ryan's when I grow up!"
"Maybe you might." Scylla said with a smile, her eye glancing back to the editorial page and read something on it, over and over.
"Whatcha bet Henrique was there?" Tomas asked.
"Betcha he was!" Gordo laughed, jabbing at Scylla, "Think he's good enough?"
"I would think so." she replied after a moment's thought.
"For that and for other things too, eh Scylla?" Julian pretended to sway his hips like a hooker fishing for a trick, "ohhhh Henrique!!" he called, waving a limp hand to get someone's attention.
"I'm not THAT bad!" she protested, blushing a little.
"But you'd like him for a trick, eh?" Gordo jabbed at her again, "I've seen that look in your eye when he comes by."
"What look are you talking about?" she said, voice a bit menacing.
Gordo laughed. When it came to them, she always showed more bark than bite.
"CLEANUP TIME!" the voice of Frank O'Brian, the pub's proprietor, boomed out from the front.
"IT'S SHOWTIME!" Julian yelled. The boys grabbed brooms and mops and charged out the double doors to clean the floors and put up the chairs.
Julian's Cleanup Company was on its last
job of the day.
----------------------
"Elaine!"
"Yes, Cybersix?"
"In my office!"
Nervous, sinking feeling as she walks behind the Cyber to her office. Tries to imitate the confident stride and body pose, then realizes it comes from within, from the knowledge burned into the nerves, muscle, and bone that comes from long days of training. Immense power and skill, compressed into a slender, spare body willing to take the bullet to save the orphan and defenseless. But only after taking a thousand of the enemy down with it.
They arrive at the office. She dumps her books on her desk, sits down behind it, and looks up at her severely.
"What do you want?"
"I knew you knew the answer to the question I had asked in class today. Instead, you gave such a bone-headed answer, I could hardly believe my ears! Except, that hasn't been the only bone-headed answer you've given all week!" The onyx black eyes softened, "What's wrong, Elaine?"
"N-n-nothing."
The hard look returns, "What's the first law around here?"
"Tell the truth, always."
"Well?"
"I-I-I"
She puts her elbows on the table, puts her hands together, rests her chin on them, raises her eyebrows, and smiles brightly, "Who is it?" she asks, winking.
"Ummm. Type 2318!" Damn! How'd she do that???
"Oh, the one who wants to be called Sylvester outside?" She nods, "Nice choice. So why the play-dumb act?"
"uhhhh."
"Let's see. I know he's number two in the class, but if you play dumb, he climbs to number one. Helps make him feel good, right?"
Smile. "It's a start."
BAM! Hands hit the desktop. Hard, "Forget it! He isn't number one! YOU are! You know it, he knows it, and I know it!" BAM! The stack of books jumps an inch, "Stop the lying, Elaine, and start living the truth! Lying is not an option!"
"But you cybers disguise yourselves! Isn't that lying?"
"Yes, we do disguise ourselves. But if we were asked, 'Are you really a secret agent for a Family insanely bent on pursuing the ruthless imposition of world peace and thus a traitor opposing our dictator's plans for pillage, plunder, rape, domination and genocide?', we'd answer, 'Hell yes!' Anything less would betray our family and the values that makes it's existence just, noble, and right! The truth, Elaine! We must either live by the truth, or die at the hands of lies! One or the other!"
"Y-y-yes, Cybersix!" Damn, she even sounds like a Drill Instructor! Must be that leadership training!
"Penny for your thoughts?"
Elaine jumped at Lucas' voice, "What?"
"A penny for your thoughts?"
"Oh, thinking of a-" Elaine thought a moment, then smiled, "relative and good friend. I wish she was here." "And me verrrry faaar away!" she thought.
Lucas sighed, regetting ever asking that question at the table. The whole evening suddenly went straight to hell like a duck hit broadside with a couple of shotgun shells at ten paces. He had discovered the photo while searching for slides on canine behavior for his biology class, taking advantage of the student interest in newspaper reports of a pack of feral dogs running through the streets of Meridiana.
Lucas had concluded that the Troddens had hired Elaine to help advise the city on their capture. They never settled for anything less than the best. He had decided to bide his time until after the dogs had been captured to blow the story and get the inside scoop before Elaine retreated back to the Rockies. His suspicions had been confirmed when Elaine had led them to the Troddens to pick up Ikikko, and was greeted as warmly as if she was a family member or a long-time friend.
Despite his philanthropy, Cyprus Trodden was no fool. He was so crazy about his daughter that the possibility of her being a kidnap victim was sure to occur to him. He most likely had hired and arranged for the training of that crack team of mercenaries for events like this. They'd be highly skilled enough to not kill anyone to prevent traumatizing Bethany if she had been the kidnap victim. Rescuing Ikikko would appeal to the man's compassionate side, as well as allow him to see how his new "toy" would work in real life.
Yes, Cyprus Trodden never settled for anything less than the best. And whatever he had paid, he had certainly gotten his money's worth. Cyprus Trodden always got his money's worth.
Yes. That would be the perfect story. Everything was falling neatly into place.
That is, until Serena had mentioned "her".
After asking the question, he had watched, bewildered, as Elaine deteriorated visibly as the minutes passed, becoming more and more agitated. He had finally decided to cancel the order and walk her home.
Somehow, she reminded him of Miao Yashimoto, "Hey! Calm down!" he counseled her, "You're acting as if your family is being threatened!"
"It is!" she thought, finally deciding on a course of action, "Lucas, can you-"
"There he is!"
Elaine stopped speaking and jerked her head to the side. Lucas could not have heard that statement, but her ears picked up the quiet voice of a man whispering to a companion.
"Can I what?" Lucas asked.
Elaine grabbed Lucas' arm, wrapped hers around it, leaned her head on his shoulder, and whispered, "Two men behind us!"
Lucas laughed and leaned his head on hers, "Really?" he whispered. She nodded, looking around for a way of escape without betraying her secret.
"The alley?" Lucas suggested.
Elaine nodded. Their pace picked up slightly.
"They're on to us!" "How-" "Forget it! Don't let him get away!"
"They know!" she whispered as they turned hurriedly down the alley.
It was blocked, a pile of overflowing trash cans stacked up against the wall erected half way down the alley to block through traffic.
Five dogs scrounging through the garbage suddenly jerked their heads up and looked at them. One started growling and began approaching them deliberately.
"Oh damn!" Lucas glanced at the dogs, then around at the two men whose sillouettes were visible, blocking the only way out of the alley.
"Nice article, news guy!" one called out, "The best one in your short career!"
"Yeah!" the other chuckled, "The ONLY one
in your short career!"
----------------------
Scylla glanced up from the paper when
Julian and Tomas crept in through the double doors, "Julian-" she started
to say warningly.
Julian held a finger to his lips and shook his head frantically, pointing at the double doors. Tomas was white as a sheet.
Frowning, Scylla got up and walked over to the double doors. She pushed on one door to create a crack to take a peek, took it, then immediately dropped down into a crouch.
"GET OUT KID! WE'VE GOT PRIVATE BUSINESS TO DISCUSS!" a voice from the dining area boomed out. There was the sound of falling chairs and the scramble of feet, then Gordo burst in through one of the doors.
"Stay!" Scylla hissed as she silently slipped out into the dining room area before the door swung back.
"But-" Gordo started to say.
"Bad guys for sure! Two of 'em!" Julian said worredly.
"Yeah but-" Gordo repeated.
"Ya think she can handle them like she did Andre?" Tomas interrupted.
"But-" Gordo began to wave his hands.
"Who knows? She sure looks like she knows what she's doing." Julian said.
"But-" Gordo began hopping up and down.
"I betcha-" Tomas started.
"ONE OF THEM'S GOT A GUN!" Gordo practically shouted.
"WHAT??" Julian and Tomas yelled at him.
Suddenly, there was a loud CRACK outside, then the sounds of a man shouting, followed by the crash of falling chairs and tables. The boys jumped at the sharp report, which sounded like a gun with a cheap silencer going off.
Frank burst in through the double doors, ran to the phone, picked it up, then threw it down, cursing, "The bastards cut both lines! Boys! Quickly go find someone to call the police and an ambulance! Through the back door! Hurry!"
Julian and his gang dashed out the back door and down the street to the gas station at the corner, where they knew the attendant had a phone.
"What do you think happened?" Tomas gasped as they ran.
"Bad luck! It always comes after us when things go good with us!" Gordo wailed.
"JUST HURRY!" Julian shouted behind him as he outran them all, "Scylla might be in trouble!"