–Imperial Hotel Conference Room, 9:30 AM–
Jenny was exhausted, having been awake for at least four hours fielding questions from reporters and the police about the sudden assault earlier that morning. She had seen the wreckage of the truck, and had also examined the shattered remains of the wall that had been hit by the rocket. The questions she had fielded were along the lines of ‘Will something like this happen again?’ and her honest response was that the assaults against the properties and creatures holding allegiance to the dwarfish psychotic would end when he gave up and left the city for good.
After she had answered all the questions from that scene, she had then been called over to a medium-sized impact crater near the hotel Sel was at. The crater, after her inspection, had revealed itself to be the resting place of what looked like the squashed remains of the kind of creature that had killed Wilson. During the inspection, Jenny had decided to ask the night clerk and found out that the immense green goon had gone up to the thirtieth floor, and five minutes later, it had landed headfirst in the parking lot.
A few minutes after that, according to the clerk, two women and a child left the hotel, but one of the women had seemed to be injured, and the other was dressed in black leather. Jenny took the testimony with a grain of salt, but less than an hour later she saw Sel going through a market with Sebena, looking quite at peace with herself, until someone touched her shoulder. Sel seemed to shrink inwardly at that, but the look of pain on her face sold it for Jenny.
Looking back at what she had seen over the last few days, Jenny wondered if it was okay to even have a team here, as it seemed to be a cursed city. Two members of a twenty-person team had been injured in less than two weeks, and a third had been killed outright. The only good news in the last month was when an update on the unwilling assassin had shown up, stating that the person had regained most of her memories, but was only partially recovered from the abuse she had taken during her assassinations.
Jenny smiled slightly, then stood up to open the door to the hallway so the other members of the team could enter. The first one in, Tsier, looked at the empty table, looked at his commander, and smiled. "So, looks like you cleared out all the pastries before I could get at them huh?"
Jenny grinned. "Yep. You stuff your mouth with those pastries anymore, and it’ll take a spruce goose to haul your ass around. Okay children, listen up! We’re moving."
Bellinger looked up from the scribble he had been chipping into the table with one of his knives, and frowned. "Now? I’ve just managed to get the finishing touches on this one anyhow." He was quickly mobbed as half the team decided to look at his handiwork, and Tsier was almost knocked silly by the congratulations that were thumped upon him. After everything had died down, Jenny called the team to order and handed out the necessary preparations. The response to where they were going to be based was followed up by some cheers, and the other women on the team grinned at each other.
They were going to the sentinel hotel.
–Market Street, 11:30 AM–
Sel was beginning to get tired from having to chase Sebena around, and her right hand was beginning to throb in pain again, but the two were having fun. As they entered Don’s Snack Shoppe, which was somewhat darker than the outside, Sel paused for a few minutes to let her real eye adjust to the dimness. Sebena had already torn free and was staring at the three model trains that were moving around a track that ringed the entire counter. There were three other people in the small eatery; two were behind the counter, and seemed to be in their mid-sixties. The third person was younger, and much scruffier. Just as Sebena passed by him, the young man reached out with one hand and grabbed Sebena by the shoulder.
"Mom! Help!!!" Sebena struggled wildly for a few seconds, then stopped when she felt the cool metal pressing itself against the side of her head. Sel stood in the doorway, staring at the person who had a snub-nosed revolver pressed to her daughter’s skull.
"You. Bitch. Move away from the door, or the little girl gets a lead injection to the brain." Sel frowned, carefully taking a few steps to the side.
"You hurt her in any way, and your testicles will be rammed up your nose faster than you can say ‘Ow’." Instead of responding, the man started walking towards the exit, still holding his gun to Sebena’s head.
"Yeah? You and what army?" The thug sneered as he steered Sebena towards the exit, but Sel’s left hand moved with almost blinding speed as the thug passed her, and he stopped as he felt the heavy barrel of a magnum press against the back of his head. "Now, let my daughter go, or the only thing left of your mind will be a pink smear over on the wall." The thug paused, then let Sebena free. In response, she stomped on the thug’s foot, making him yelp in pain. After recovering, he snarled like an angry wolf, turning to try and hit her.
Sel, pissed off by the thug’s actions, grabbed him with her right hand, spinning him around and shoving him backwards into the doorframe. Keeping him pinned to the doorframe with the barrel of the magnum sitting on the point of his chin, Sel reached up and removed her sunglasses. "So, what was that about an army?"
"What the hell are you?" The thug gasped out before Sel’s right forearm slammed into his throat, choking him.
"I’m human. Just less human than some, but more human than you. Now, drop the gun or I’ll relocate your elbow to your asshole." Sel grinned as the thug gaped at the dull black and red gleam of her artificial eye, but noticed him moving his gun to try and shoot her.
She slid to the right, moving her pistol to the thug’s elbow while dodging the barrel of the smaller pistol. Seconds later, she put a bullet through the thug’s right elbow, shattering all the bones there, shredding the ligaments, and rupturing the artery that fed his forearm. The bullet embedded itself in the wooden doorframe, and Sel let the thug collapse, watching as he clutched at his arm to try and stanch the bleeding. She then put away her gun, turned to the two people behind the counter, and smiled slightly.
"Sorry about the mess. Could you look after my daughter while I call the cops? After all, we’ve had a really bad day." The two people agreed, and Sel took a few steps outside so she could call up the police HQ.
–Police HQ, 11:45–
"Hello, this is Enrique... what? Okay, I’ll be there in ten. Don’t plan on going shopping for at least three hours though." Enrique stood up, ending the call before dialling in another number. "Hello, Martinez? We got a call from Don’s Snack Shoppe, and we’ll need a meat wagon for the thug. Apparently, his right arm was nearly amputated, so take two men with strong stomachs. I’ll be there as well, so try to be nice."
Enrique then walked out of the office, went to the parking lot, and drove over to Don’s. Ten minutes later, he got out of his SUV and looked at the scene. Two paramedics were bandaging the thug’s arm, none to gently either, and all three were being watched by the woman who had called in the attempted robbery. Behind her, inside the eatery, the sounds of youthful laughter rang out like the peals of a bell.
Enrique walked over to the thug and looked at the face, which was contorted in pain, but still recognisable. "Well, if it isn’t Manny." Enrique leaned over the thug’s face, letting his shadow fall over the notorious thug. "What happened? Couldn’t find any children to do your dirty work? I’ll be glad to put you away for a nice long time." He straightened up as the paramedics finished bandaging Manny’s arm, then grinned as Manny was simply dumped into the ‘meat wagon’.
Enrique turned to the woman who was leaning against the street lamp in front of the store. "So, this is the second time we’ve met. You were the one who put the slug through Manny’s arm?" She nodded, and Enrique chuckled. "I should give you a medal. Manny’s been a thorn in my ass for the last three years, and it’s a pleasure to see that lump of fat put away."
Sel smiled slightly, but the scar tissue making up part of her neck turned the smile into a grimace. "Well, as far as I’m concerned, the only people who can touch my daughter are those who are smart and decent enough to not pull a gun on her or my friends."
Enrique raised an eyebrow at the oblique lack of respect for her own well-being, and decided not to mention it. "So, considering how quickly you mashed that thug, I’m betting you also wrecked that truck full of Fixed Ideas this morning." Enrique paused at the look of shock on Sel’s face, then forged onwards. "Anyhow, it takes a lot of guts and skill to do what you did, and considering how you look, I’m betting you got some shrapnel in your back."
Sel grimaced as she rubbed her shoulder. "Not quite. There was a survivor that decided to visit me at home. Most of a glass door went into my back and shoulders when the thing punched me."
Enrique winced. "Ouch. Well, how about I treat you and your daughter to lunch?"
Sel smiled slightly, then nodded towards the door to Don’s. "Well, is this place any good?" Enrique nodded, and the two walked into the small shop. Inside, there was no visual evidence of the aborted robbery, with the exception of a rather large hole in the doorframe. The older woman who had been behind the counter was currently sitting beside Sebena, who was wolfing down a kiddie-sized cheeseburger.
"So, it looks like the celebrations have started without the guest of honour. Hello Don. Seems that this place is a magnet for thugs." Don chuckled, pausing to say a few words in Italian, then pointed at something hidden by the raised counter top.
"If I had been a bit faster, that thug would have been staring down an Ithaca Model A instead of getting the contents of the register. Young lady, thank you." Sel blushed at the praise heaped on her, then turned when she heard Sebena burp in a most unladylike manner.
"Sebena! Didn’t I raise you better than that?" Sebena grinned and looked sheepish, but Sel smiled slightly to take the sting out of the rebuke. "Well, I’m also feeling fairly hungry, so I think I’ll have a deluxe cheeseburger with fries. Is that okay with you Mr..."
"Diortti. And, not only is it okay, but I would greatly appreciate it if you became a regular, like that moving mountain whose eyes are tethered to your backside." Sel glared at Enrique, who suddenly took great interest in looking at the ceiling, his face flushing bright red. After a few seconds, all the adults in the small store burst into laughter, leaving Sebena to look at everyone, shrug, and continue eating.
Several minutes later, Sel and Enrique were sitting in the booth across from each other, trading stories. After a little while, Sel had asked if she could remove the shades without scaring him, and after getting an affirmative response from the veteran cop, she put the sunglasses in a pocket of her coat, letting the artificial eye take in everything it wanted to. After Enrique saw the tiny red beam range along the entire model train that was travelling around the boundary of the store, he couldn’t keep quiet.
"So do you have direct control over that thing?"
Sel shook her head. "Not really. It tracks all forms of motion, in three different spectrums, but also acts as a simple camera. Useful for finding a really nice picture of a wolf in its natural habitat, or for seeing what firearms someone has concealed underneath their thermal underwear."
Enrique nearly choked on part of his Taco Supreme. After clearing his throat, and keeping from accidentally snorting his glass of Root Beer, he looked at the utterly imperturbable face of his companion. "So, you’ve met the mystery called Dr. Zack, huh? What was your ‘read’ on him?"
Sel grimaced, then smiled. "Well, he’s almost impossible to shock, acts more like a kindly uncle than a stranger, and had a .22 calibre target pistol hidden under his shirt when he talked to me, no to mention the nasty-looking knife stuffed up his left shirt sleeve. Overall, I’d have to say he’s paranoid, but nice to know if you’re on his good side."
Enrique nodded, then looked over at Sebena, who was busy playing with the controls for the electric trains. "That’s pretty accurate for the one meeting, correct?" Sel nodded, and Enrique forged onwards. "Anyhow, I’ve met him as well when he harboured several important people who were attacked by that psychotic dwarf that commands those big green brutes. If you go up against those brutes, I’d recommend talking to the doctor first, as he seems to know almost everything about them. Too bad he only won bronze last year."
Sel paused, looking at Enrique. "So, he was the finalist who used a fifteen-year old pistol and beat the pants off of the reigning champion? I was wondering why the Olympics would let anyone who looked... well, that old into the runnings, even with his scores. Personally, I watched the entire thing, and I think someone played with the gun’s setscrews to make him miss the first two bulls in the finals." She mopped up the last of her meal with several fries as she spoke, then glanced up. Enrique finished off the last of his own meal, then stood up to pay for the three orders.
–Jose’s Mansion, 1:52 PM–
Jose’s plan to flush out the smart Idea was proceeding apace, as he had gone through the revelation that, because of the mortality rate of the average Idea, he could just hold a total census, find the one with the lowest number, and shoot the sucker with several rocket launchers. He also knew that the Idea was one of the ones that had been allocated jackets and solid shirts, so he kept the census to only those ranks.
All the jacketed Ideas were standing in straight ranks, right biceps bared for checking the numbers that were tattooed into the thick green flesh. All of the Ideas were a good eight feet tall, but a few were closer to nine and a half instead of the average. Jose was currently studying the number of one such exceptionally large Idea, but the immense hulk seemed to be much dumber than normal, barely able to say ‘Yes sir’, much less have enough intelligence to count past two. The number, however, said that the Idea was the twelfth out of the tanks, and, considering that Jose was at the end of the long line, the midget pulled out a massive pistol and put three bullets through the Idea’s head.
The body swayed, fell over, and disappeared in a flash of steam and heat. "Well, that should remove the traitor from our midst. Now, everyone, BACK TO WORK! YOU’VE BEEN SLACKING OFF FOR THE ENTIRE MORNING!"
Jose then strutted off, with one of the surviving AFIs shadowing him like an improbable ghost. Back in the large courtyard, all the Ideas dispersed, with only one lingering. The lone Idea looked around, mentally pitying his incredibly unlucky tank-mate as he looked at his bared arm. Looking back was a fresh addition to the tattoo on his arm: three zeros followed the slightly doctored four on his huge bicep. Shrugging, the Idea rolled down his sleeve, and went back to his assigned area to patrol.
–Meridiana 3rd National Bank, 6:27 PM–
Jess listened to the alarm ringing over and over and over, until she spun around, aimed her AS-12 auto-shotgun at the offending bell, and blasted it into oblivion with two rifled slugs. She turned back to the six Ideas that were busy emptying the vault by tossing bags of cash out of the warped and partially melted door. The vault had already been two-thirds emptied by the time Jess had been fed up enough to blast the alarm, and two trucks had already roared away with full loads.
Just as the last three bags of money were being pulled out of the vault by the last two Ideas in the building, Jess heard the sirens as the police pulled up, cordoning her off from the five-ton truck in the front. Swearing, the techno turned towards the wooden door beside the vault, yelling at the Ideas to get out of the bank through the back door. Jess kicked open the door, heading through the hallway towards the side of the bank. Just as she got to an emergency exit, the door was bashed inwards, but held for a few seconds, despite the eight-inch deep dent in the two-inch plate steel. Two more blows struck the heavy door, denting it into a strange form of impressionistic art.
Jess was long gone from that area when the door was sent flying down the hallway, followed quickly by a slight and extremely angry form that was covered from hairline to feet in what could best be described as a second skin made of overlapping metal scales. The form paused for a second after entering the now-gaping doorway, then started to charge down the hallway, following what looked like a small scanner inset into its right forearm. As the person ran down the hallway, pursuing either Jess or the fixed Ideas, Jess carefully peeked out from behind the door she was hiding behind.
Jess watched as the form stopped, letting a long spike literally slide out of its right forearm, followed quickly by a fifteen-foot long flexible blade that seemed to act more like a whip than a sword. The form continued moving, heading towards the back of the bank Less than a minute later, two angry shouts suddenly turned into cries of agony, sending chills down Jess’ spine. While Jess was frozen in horror as she listened to the horrible screams that echoed through the halls, she was suddenly and forcefully snapped out of her inaction by a police officer rounding the corner and seeing her.
Jess reacted without thinking, bringing her auto-shotgun up, and walking five shells up the cop’s body. The first two smacked into the cop’s right knee and thigh, causing his shattered leg to give out as the next three slammed into his stomach, chest, and head. The two that hit him in the stomach and chest were mostly stopped by his tactical vest, but the shot to his head literally decapitated him, leaving only his lower jaw in one piece as his brainpan, eyes, and hair splattered all over the far end of the hallway like a very gruesome Jackson Pollock.
Jess ran as quickly as possible down the short hallway to the open exit, wondering what sort of shit she had gotten herself into as she ducked a hail of bullets from two more officers. She tore out of the exit, hair and money bag flying, and one handed her gun’s barrel into the chest of a bystander. The shotgun discharged as Jess ran, blowing a dinner-plate sized hole eight inches deep into the poor person’s chest, and the now seriously scared techno tore off towards her base, totally unheeding of the spectacle she created as civilians scattered away from the wildly moving barrel of her shotgun.
About five stories above Jess’ fleeing form, Cybersix stood up from the rooftop, and, looking at Data 7, the two started to track the techno. The two continued to track Jess as she ran to the nearest warehouse, but unbeknownst to the two siblings, they were also being tracked. Less than five hundred yards behind them, the person who had shredded the two Ideas in the bank was trailing Six, and having a rather difficult time closing the range.
Six and Data 7 disappeared into the warehouse, following Jess, but their own shadower didn’t speed up when the roar of gunfire, followed by an angry roar from Data 7 tore through the air. The shadow paused only long enough to allow its armour to shift its colour until it matched the shade of decaying iron and the dull sheen of tin. The now-totally camouflaged form then headed towards the warehouse, but was suddenly, and rather painfully, halted when Six was literally launched out of some of the windows in the side of the building, slamming into the form at high speed.
Instead of rolling off of the decidedly floored person, Six groaned in pain, tried to lever herself off of the form she had landed on, and failed, slumping onto the roof. The form was much more vehement, shoving Six off of itself as it swore loudly. It looked towards the warehouse, instinctively ducking when another roar of gunfire smashed its way through several windows.
The form looked down at Six, crouching as it reached out, picked up the Cyber’s hat, and placed the floppy black fedora on its own head. Shrugging, it took the large hat off and placed it firmly on Six’s head, obscuring the unconscious Cyber’s face. The form seemed to linger for a few more moments, then leaped through the hole that had been created by Cybersix’s unhealthy exit.
Inside the warehouse, many of the once-neatly stacked crates had fallen to the concrete floor, and much of those had burst open, revealing weapons, ammunition, and several unidentified substances that appeared to be food soaked in engine oil. The form had landed on one of the less-twisted girders, and it crouched there as a wildly swinging light bathed the area in jittering shadows and strange angles, before the form pulled out a pistol and blew the light into glittering shards and sparks.
Less than five seconds later however, the pained roar of a huge cat shook the walls, and the form dropped down to the ground by literally sliding with one hand down one of the huge I-beams that supported the steel roof of the cavernous warehouse. Fixing on the howl of pain, it almost instantly headed towards the sound, occasionally vaulting over the collapsed heaps and crates. In less than a minute, it had managed to get to a clearing, where it paused, looked at the tableau in front of it, and broke out into almost hysterical laughter.
Lying on the floor, looking right into the slightly open mouth of a very angry panther, was Jess. Said panther had managed to disarm the techno, and apparently had also broken Jess’ right arm in three places as well. After managing to calm down, which was partially hastened by Jess’ hysterical screams for help to keep off the menu, the form walked over to the techno, looked at the snarling panther, and pulled out an extremely ugly handgun.
A metallic chirp, followed by a crack of artificial thunder blew out all the windows, shattered every light in the warehouse, and lit the inside of the building like a strobe.