The chair’s back was high, obscuring any view of their employer. A single carpet stretched from his desk to the simple double doors. While two large potted plants set on either side of the door, acting as awkward sentries to this inorganic environment. This large open room, served as his office, an ominous cavern that only increased the uneasiness of the situation. Four chairs had been placed in front of the desk, but only three of them were occupied. They seemed small and out of place, compared to the room. A sizeable portrait hung over the double doors, to add to the animosity of the room. Its very life was Spartan. Cold and unfeeling just like its master. The same master that sat at the head of the room, disguised by his large black chair, staring out a massive set of windows. Two inarticulate statues of trolls flanked his either side. Patiently standing in the corners, like the plants near the doors, silently guarding the emptiness of the room.
The chair slowly turned to face the room’s new occupants, his employees. Easing back into his chair, sat Requiem. He was of course all business with them, but they could sense something else behind his delicate exterior. His soft elvish features, barely managed to hide his dead insides.
Looking at him, he gave the illusion of being a tall, thin businessman. Using hired muscle as his protection and for physical persuasion. This would only be partly right. A remorseless and ruthless air seemed inherent in him, by his career it would be plausible, but simple businessman? Does such a thing even really exist anymore? It would be a mistake that would lead anyone to death that judge by appearance alone.
Requiem’s eyes held darkness inside them, despite the crystal blue. His appearance did nothing to abate the feeling of ice. His face was weathered from years of experience in the field, and his gaze was calculating. His clothes were fluid like his movements, and a myriad of dark colors. He wore an elegant dress robe that flowed with him. Everything about him screamed his namesake.
He sat quietly studying the assembled “Shadowrunners”. Slowly he leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk. His hands clasped with his slender index fingers and thumbs touching. His eyes shifted from person to person. Carefully taking each of them in, observing their reactions and emotions.
The three employees that sat, stared blankly around the room, their thoughts held elsewhere. If Requiem had not known where to look for the fourth, Falchion would be lost to the dimly lit corner. The far right corner, by the doors, Requiem held his gaze on Falchion longer than the others. The youngest of the quartet, but he was by far the most dangerous and professional.
Falchion’s gaze met Requiem’s with fierce concentration, and understanding of equality despite their age difference. His stance was relaxed but ever prepared to move at a moment’s notice. His soft brown locks draped loosely to his chin, his eyes as mysterious as they were dark. His features soft and delicate; untouched by the hardships he had seen. His arms folded defiantly, but relaxed across his chest. His body a pinnacle of physical excellence; muscled, yet lean and lithe. His sculpted form was decorated by a variety, of belts, harnesses, pouches, copious amounts of blades, and oddly jewelry. He looked as though he was ready for any physical challenge that could face him. Requiem removed his gaze from Falchion to examine closely each member of this group. Each of them intrigued him, in their own manner.
To his right sat Mr. Popular. He was a small time boss for the Yakuza, running various illegal operations out the back of a ‘legit’ business. The aptly named, he thought sarcastically, Golden Panda. Despite his posture while sitting, Mr. Popular held an air of authority and arrogance, even in the presence of someone who had hired his services. He was slouched, his left arm flung over the back of the chair, with his thoughts were distance. Requiem thought this Yakuza boss had a relaxed style. Perhaps a little too relaxed. Popular’s sleeked black hair, two stylized strands of hair gracing the front of his face, with a small pony tail adorning the back of his head, and a thin scar gracing his left cheek, gave his face an almost vid-star quality. Expensive sunglasses hung from a breast pocket on his business jacket. An un-tucked ivory shirt, unbuttoned at the top. Covered by an unbuttoned black business jacket, pressed black dress pants, and polished dress shoes finished his outfit ensemble. This gave Mr. Popular a disheveled, but oddly profession able appearance. Requiem took note of a noticeable sidearm, harnessed to his shoulder, flaunting his superiority to the lesser street filth. Not that he needed it with the man carefully placed to his Mr. Popular’s right.
In the middle sat, Shikkon Shin, a notable member of the Yakuza, was all the protection Mr. Popular would need. Shikkon played the strong silent type to a tea. His wavy, but cropped black hair, and chiseled facial features were a stark contrast from the rest of the group. He wore a bulky armored business suit, to give the illusion of professional etiquette, but the mirage concealed a bulky and deadly weapon. His dress style was very similar to Mr. Popular except he wore a tie, adding to his business and stoic demeanor. Requiem noticed a couple of extra bulges on Shikkon, hinting at weapons. Everything about Shikkon whispered chromed, he was mechanical, but smooth, and his bulk seemed unnatural.
Shikkon idly stared at the ground, as if humbly awaiting his superior’s every whim. His posture was rigid in his chair. Every muscle seemed tense, despite hidden under layers of cloth. He seemed to defy every stereotype about elves available, save maybe his ears. He easily outweighed his teammates, and while sitting he seemed to be fifteen centimeters over the others. His eyes were dark like Mr. Popular’s but intense instead of carefree. He seemed uncomfortable in this business setting, and shifted silently in his chair, waiting for the next move.
Lastly Requiem’s eyes fell on Entertainment, the strangest looking of the group. She was flamboyant and bright. A stark contrast to the subdued colors and stealth the others wore. She appeared as though a character out of some 20th century film, or someone’s imagination.
Entertainment sat loosely in her chair, but was carefully positioned so she remained in a polite form. Requiem noticed a small pistol holstered to the side of her right leg. It was a weapon for show, and flash, rather than actual uses. Although in the right hands, anything could be put to deadly use. Her lavender wig draped down the sides of her aged, but cherubic face. The wig’s bangs uniform across her slightly winkled brow, hiding any sign of her natural short dirty blond hair. She wore a tight purple and white polka dot dress, which accentuated her athletic and curvy body. It was Falchion, who had recruited her, and it seemed as though she hoped that his interest in her was possibly more than just business.
Falchion stood in the corner of the room, watching and waiting. Requiem worried him to no end, his every move seemed calculated, it was on the verge of inhuman. To make matters worse that drek run had not gone over smoothly. The group hadn’t talked to one another before the meeting about the run. It seemed that the others didn’t know what had happened and that could work in their favor. If they were smart enough, they would not mention the test run, but let Requiem assume. At least that’s what Falchion was hoping for, as a best case scenario.
Three weeks ago Falchion had been contacted by Requiem for a possible run. They had met, in a small rundown restaurant, and discussed the finer details of work. It was a simple enough run to do, and Requiem had hinted at further work beyond this one. Seeing this as an opportunity to further himself, he felt torn: On one end he wanted to get a team together, to not only help him do the run, but to possibly form a group. A group of runners had its advantages over being solo, but also had its disadvantages. On the other hand he wanted to do it alone, because sometimes the varying personalities conflict and can be too noisy for the shadows.
Falchion searched the rest of the week, for possible runners. The first person he found was an ork decker, named Black Betty. She was interesting, a biker attitude, and a slightly airy sense. The job didn’t call for a decker, but something about Betty stuck out for him. She said she wasn’t interested in the current job, but he thought she could be useful and told her he might have work for her at a later date. So they parted ways.
He then found the others, an eclectic group of individuals, but he didn’t expect any less. He thought that they seemed reliable enough, eager to have some work come their way, and didn’t ask too many questions about him.
Falchion thought Entertainment was the most intriguing one. She met with him, through a mutual contact. At the meeting she wore a peppermint stripped dress with jet-black hair, which looked too shiny to be natural. She had a flare that was attention drawing and could easily be used as distraction.
Mr. Popular was an odd combination of honor, and disrespect for those that were “beneath” him. He too could easily draw attention to himself, and could be useful for distracting from a more stealthily element of the group, himself. His mostly silent bodyguard, Shikkon Shin, was stoic, fluid, and a skilled individual. Falchion saw varying ranges of ability in their interactions with him, and with Popular and Shikkon.
Falchion spent the remainder of that second week learning a little more about his fellow runners. He was amazed at the versatility that a small group of people could achieve. He had always worked on his own, even during training with his various instructors. He saw varying individuals and skills, in his mentors, but never had he put them in the same equation. It was something new and exciting to him.
The job was a simple in and out. Nothing complicated in their line of work. Granted Falchion wasn’t a big fan of the type of job, but he had found ways around it in the past. This time he had been hired to remove a weapons dealer. Falchion had felt relief when both Mr. Popular and Entertainment had expressed concerns about the nature of the job. To that end Falchion thought they would be more open to a different avenue of success. One above the result Requiem not-so-subtly hinted at during their meeting.
The reason for the irking was that this simple weapons dealer was causing problems for Ares. Falchion found this to be odd, considering the immensity of the Ares Macrotechnologies Corporation. Despite this, he also knew that an insect could cause irritation for a giant. Falchion ran some information through the system to see what he could find, and the story became a little clearer.
Their target it seemed was beginning to become well known, and was getting decently connected. The target went by the street name of Simon. He had been running a small business that had been a front for his weapons dealing, and was getting some heavy notice: No doubt the reason why Ares wanted to squash him.
It wasn’t enough just to put Simon out of business. They wanted a full sweep. Research had been done, and Ares had found Simon’s true base of operations. A small farmhouse on the outer fringes of Seattle, nestled in a heavily wooded area, it was the ideal spot. Too quaint to draw attention, well concealed to anyone, and it was on the northern border. No doubt he was also doing business with the NAN, as well as within Seattle. Just one more strike against this non-assuming dealer, in the eyes of the all-powerful mega-corporation. Their initial meeting proved to be promising, but that’s when all things went south:
Falchion stood across, in the rain soaked streets, from The Diamond. The rain always held a dark gloom over the city, and made it uncomfortable being out for any extended period of time. Falchion stared at the business, surveying the building and the surrounding area.
An overhanging marquee supported a holographic neon sign illuminating the darkness around it. Giving entering patrons some cover from the rain, and gave some sense of character. A small line was waiting to be let in despite the weather it seemed to be a popular place. Although he’d never heard of it.
Falchion had dressed down for this occasion, from his normal equipped attire. He had only worn a simple London Fog, and some casual dress clothes. The only things he had not parted with were a small knife holstered on his hip, and the various rings and necklace he never took off. It had been a couple of years since he had donned the jewelry, and he felt naked without them. As it was, he wasn’t wearing much protection and he felt vulnerable.
Entertainment had been ushered into The Diamond, about thirty minutes before and had been told to wait in a small office on the second floor. The inner workings of The Diamond were a mixture of multiple entertainment venues. The first floor acted as a buffer to the second floor, but was by no means without its own attraction.
When she had entered there had been a small buffer zone to enter the main area of the first floor. Showing pictures of people enjoying the various thrills of night life. The lighting was set a dim feeling of being in a theatre. The hallway shortly opened up into an open room, meeting a bar against the left wall. It stretched all the way to the back of the room with three bartenders hurriedly serving drinks. Set at the far end of the bar was an enclosed area and Entertainment noticed an elf, through the light smoke, jacked into something.
Music pulsed through the entire first floor, and as Entertainment made her way through the small crowd to the middle of the room, she saw that booths and tables aligned along the back right wall. It brought back memories to her previous work, and she was glad to be on this assignment. Entertainment ascended the chrome stairs across the room, and noticed that near the plugged in elf there seemed to be something of a stage. The stage had been taken over by different club goers enjoying the hypnotic music.
Entertainment reached the top of the stairs to find a small platform staring at a plain metal door, and another bouncer. The bouncer looked Entertainment over, and gave her a slight nod as he opened the door. She had worn a simple black dress with thin straps that hugged her body, but flowed with her movements. Her lips held a light glossy sheen, and the dark eyeliner emphasized the emerald in her eyes, and gave her a sultry look.
Her real outfit was neatly and tightly packed into a small handbag carried at her side. Except the small pistol fastened to her thigh, she was dressed for pleasure for the meeting tonight. She had only known Falchion for a short while, but he was cute. Every time they had met, she had a surge of feeling. It was something long forgotten, something she had thought long dead thanks to her past.
Her thoughts sharply returned to the present as she entered the second floor. She had been ushered in through another set of doors. As she passed through them, she noticed that the sounds from below had been all but silenced. Here the lighting was considerably lower, and only randomly would there be a flash of different colors.
The setup was similar to downstairs, except more tables and chairs adorned the middle of the room. A small bar graced the far wall, and Entertainment noticed the various small stages with poles reaching up to the ceiling. The few patrons that were sitting took immediate notice of Entertainment, and she of them.
She noticed that there were a handful of businessmen, and they all appeared to be Asian. Her face, hardened, and she looked around for her fellow runners. Entertainment headed straight for the bar in hopes of finding the meeting, and the others. She could feel the businessmen lusting after her as she crossed the room. Ignoring them, she stepped up to the bar to find the bartender reappearing from a backroom.
“Can I help you?” His English was manageable, even in this day and age some people still didn’t learn enough of multiple languages. Entertainment saw that the bartender, like the handful of businessmen staring at her around the room, was Asian. She also recognized the accent and spoke accordingly in Japanese, “Yes, I’m supposed to meet with your boss.” Her voice was direct, and the bartender was slightly taken aback by the near perfection of her tongue.
“Ah, yes, you must be the women he mentioned,” a nervous look shot through his eyes, “There is a room in the corner there,” he pointed as he spoke to a simple but concealed door behind her in the right corner. She gave a slight wave, and was polite enough as she continued in Japanese, “Thank you.” With her simple gesture she spun gracefully to her right and move towards the back corner.
To the businessmen around the room, she fluttered and glided across the room when she moved. They were VIP guests of The Diamond and had paid top dollar for a show, yet they had not expected this. They’re tastes were of a different variety, but they could not help and stare as she moved. For what seemed an endless journey from the bar to the corner, she had mesmerized them. With the silent slide of the door, she vanished into the darkness that was waiting beyond. “Only the Yakuza..” she muttered under her breath.
When Falchion entered the small room, he found Shikkon sitting on the arm of a couch, Mr. Popular sitting on the couch his right leg propped up on the knee of his left. Falchion had to keep from laughing at him. His posture seemed very pompous. The both of them were dressed in business suits, Popular’s relaxed, Shikkon’s more professional looking.
He glanced to his left and saw Entertainment sitting in a small chair talking with the others. He felt his mouth open a little at the sight of her. He had always taken note of her figure, and her outfits. This seemed a little out of place. He quickly shook his thoughts off, as she turned to look at him. The conversation had trailed off, as the three looked over at Falchion entering the room.
“My apologies, I was held up, by something urgent,” he paused only for a moment thinking his voice trailing slightly. “What’d I miss?” And instantly he returned to an exuberant attitude, a slight smile crossing his youthful face. Entertainment responded with a small grin, finding Falchion’s expression to be amusing, not to mention irritating to the Japs.
Mr. Popular cleared his throat, and continued speaking in Japanese, “Yes, before we were interrupted,” he shot a glance at Falchion, “by a blatant display of un-professionalism.” Both Falchion and Entertainment thought they had caught Shikkon rolling his eyes at Mr. Popular. Before they could mention it Shikkon spoke, “Yes, we were just discussing the Run.” Shikkon’s voice was somber and calm. “I assume you had no trouble, Falchion?” Shikkon looked over to Falchion as a professional equal.
Falchion felt taken aback by Skikkon’s display, and stumbled as he began to speak, “Uh..yeah. Uh, no; no I didn’t have any problems, Shikkon. Thank you.” Falchion felt almost uncomfortable at Shikkon’s attention. Shikkon just simply nodded. Mr. Popular looked up at Shikkon, his face was beginning to scrunch. Mr. Popular almost felt that he had been interrupted by Shikkon, but that wouldn’t be appropriate and found Falchion’s well being to be unworthy of his notice.
“Yes, we’re forming a plan of attack. We figure it’d be best to give a scout around the area first, and then we’d go from there.” Mr. Popular continued giving a nonchalant wave towards Shikkon. It was half paying little heed to Shikkon, and half talking to everyone without talking to anyone. “So, unless anyone has any objections, we’ll go ahead with that plan.”
Falchion folded his arms and gave a look to Entertainment, then Mr. Popular. “I’m okay with that,” Falchion spoke firmly then looked back to Entertainment, “Entertainment?” She had been staring blankly at Mr. Popular, and was roused by Falchion’s voice. “Yeah, sure. I’m good to go tonight if needed,” She gave a grin to Falchion as she spoke to him. Falchion's left brow rose slightly, in a quizzical expression. He noticed, and questioned, the mischievous look that had appeared on Entertainment's face.
“Yes, we had better do this now,” Mr. Popular’s voice rose through their staring contest. “We can take my car, Shikkon will drive,” he spoke as he rose from his chair. Shikkon only responded with a nod, as he rose from the arm of the chair. As Mr. Popular headed towards the door, Falchion moved to the side and opened the door for him. At least was Mr. Popular’s perception.
Mr. Popular strode through the door confidently and paid little attention to the help holding the door. As Shikkon passed by the door, he gave Falchion a little nod. Entertainment was the last to pass Falchion. She strode through leisurely, and gave the smallest of curtsies Falchion as she passed. Closing the door quietly behind them, Falchion looked up towards Mr. Popular.
“Since we’re taking your car, Mr. Popular, I have to grab some stuff from my bike. It’ll only take a minute.” Falchion said as he moved quickly towards the front of the group. “Very, well,” Mr. Popular said as he gave a dramatic sigh. “We’ll wait, for you, but only cause you’re paying.” Falchion just ignored Mr. Popular, as he passed him, and continued down the stairs silently.
Entertainment had noticed a small change coming over Falchion this evening. He had always been polite and jovial when interacting with them, but his demeanor was shifting to a more serious manner. She thought on the matter for a moment as the three of them descended the stairs. They had followed Falchion, but as soon as they reached the bottom of the stairs he had vanished into the small crowd. Despite her eyes she could not keep follow the man.
Mr. Popular, Shikkon, and Entertainment exited The Diamond to find another dreary Seattle night. A light drizzle enveloped the surrounding darkness beyond the brightness of The Diamond. Despite being in a metropolis the rain always seemed to dampen the light pollution, making everything darker and more depressing than was needed. As they reached Mr. Popular’s luxury sedan in the parking garage, Falchion appeared out of the shadows. He now appeared strapped to the teeth in utility gear, blades of random sizes, and full dark blue skin-tight body armor with a little hood. He seemed to shimmer as he moved. The lighting in the garage was barely able to illuminate him fully. Entertainment gave him a little look over, and noticed his defined form even in the poor lighting she was able to see him. He even had a pair of goggles to complete his tactical motif. She was unsure if this Falchion or the boyish one from upstairs excited her more.
As Shikkon held the rear passenger door for Mr. Popular he smiled and said to Falchion, “I’ve got a pair of those. It does wonders for night time work.” As Falchion climbed into the passenger seat he looked across the car at Shikkon, “Uh, thanks. Yeah they are pretty handy.” Entertainment climbed into the back with Mr. Popular, and Shikkon climbed into the driver’s seat. Falchion had never really taken the time to fully look at Shikkon, and realized that he probably had the eyes to match the rest of his chromed up body. Falchion then realized that Shikkon probably didn’t need the goggles, and was referring to his armored suit.
Shikkon started the car, and began checking everything in preparation. Falchion noticed that this seemed more like routine for him, than actual safety precautions. They heard a light couple of thuds on the window separating them from the back seat. Shikkon understood this as Mr. Popular was ready to go, and the car left the parking garage late that Tuesday evening.
Everything was moving in slow motion. One minute Falchion had separated from the group. The next he was scrambling around trying to take care of a fragged up situation as best he could.
He had wanted to investigate a strange looking sniper behind the group. Falchion had an especial interest in him, since he had been looking at them as soon as they had arrived. He had gotten a small thrill out of the fact that the sniper seemed highly perturbed when he had vanished from sight. The others in the group hadn’t noticed him disappearing or the sniper, but he was fine with that.
Falchion also wanted to know who had been moving in and out of Simon’s house. The few minutes before his investigation into the sniper, he had seen several figures moving in and around the house. The others in the group had seen them too, and they had moved in closer to investigate. Falchion looking around cautiously caught sight of the sniper, he was good, but Falchion felt that he was probably being slightly careless with his concealment because he was overconfident. Overconfident in what, Falchion didn’t know.
As Falchion had begun to move closer to the mysterious sniper, the entire area ceased to be covered in darkness, and then Falchion heard it. A massive explosion had erupted, and the once well-hidden house was now a blazing inferno. This took precedence over the sniper, and Falchion made his way back to the group.
It took him a few moments but he found the rest of his group lying on the ground a hundred feet from the house. He ran to check on each of them, none of them seemed to be badly hurt, just lying there unconscious. He didn’t take the time to try to rouse them. He knew it was time to go. A flaming fireball in Snohomish was bound to attract unwanted attention.
He drove with careful speed, this time taking a more direct route back to Shikkon’s club. As he drove away he decided to risk taking the 405 even with the threat of multiple go-gangs and their idiotic claims to “terrirtory”. Despite his concerns of go-gangs he made it back to The Diamond in about twenty minutes. He felt thankful for the cover of darkness and lack of traffic.
As he entered the parking garage he parked the car, and sat there thinking for a moment. He got out and locked the car, and scrambled back to the club. He was waved through the front door, and again Falchion felt thankful for the club still being open, despite the hour. He found a couple of employees and had them follow him back to Mr. Popular’s car.
Falchion carried Entertainment, and each of the employees grabbed an unconscious Shikkon and Mr. Popular. They brought them in through a rear entrance to hide any suspicions and carried them to one of the rear rooms on the second floor, and set them out on the various couches in the room. He left simple instructions with the employees to watch them, and inform them that they had been successful. Falchion didn’t want to leave much more information than was needed. “Thank god for the Yakuza business procedures,” Falchion thought.
That had been a week ago, and Falchion had remained hidden for the remainder of the week. He’s only contact with the outside world had been a call to Requiem to inform him of the jobs completion, a thankful call from Entertainment, and a call to Popular despite his better judgment. The conversation with Requiem had been short and to the point. Requiem invited Falchion back in for some more work, and Falchion politely requested that the others be allowed in on the new job offer. Since, Falchion told Requiem, that they had been instrumental on the last job.
Falchion had managed to keep the conversation with Entertainment light and pleasant, only giving glimpses of what had happened, for he was not altogether sure what had really happened. Entertainment seemed content with the nature of their conversation and didn’t fully probe more into the situation. Falchion also asked her if she would like more work, and she seemed delighted.
His conversation with Popular was even shorter as Falchion invited him back for subsequent work, and told him where to meet. Falchion also suggested that he bring Shikkon, to which Mr. Popular simply laughed at him for such a silly notion. “He always goes with me. He is my right hand man, and my protection.”
So many questions raced through Falchion’s mind the last week. What had really happened? Who was that sniper watching us? Was he simply sent to take out Simon, or was he sent to observe us? The biggest concern to Falchion was not so much the sniper, but the people who had been near the building shortly before it erupted. Who were they working for, and why did they want to do the task that had been assigned to him? If they too were working for Ares then perhaps this job had been a setup, and if that was the case then his mentor had been right about Ares and Requiem. He was going to need all the help he could get in the weeks to come.
Meeting of the Minds
Falchion stood carefully waiting at the back of Requiem’s office. Watching and waiting for the swinging pendulum that he felt was fate breathing on their necks. He and his group were lucky to get out of the woods alive, and now potentially had to answer to their employer.
Requiem seemed preoccupied too much to notice Falchion almost fidgeting at the back of the room. Instead he focused his hawk sight on the other three. He rested his elbows on the large metal desk and spoke, “Congratulations, you passed with flying colors.” Only a minor pause in his speech, “I had expected Falchion to be more than capable to accomplish this task on his own, but seeing you all here gives me hope for future works.” Requiem looked through the others to stare at Falchion.
After a moment Requiem brought his attentions back to the front three, “I don’t want to bore you with the finer details of business workings, but needless to say we would like you and your team to help us with an obstacle to a construction project.” The others in the group thought they detected a faint hint of a smile across Requiem’s cold face.
“We’ve been having some problems with a building, or more accurately an individual in the building.” Requiem took a short pause, and continued, “It’s a rather trivial matter, but we need the services of individuals such as yourselves.” With that, he made a small gesture and looked at the group.
Falchion stood silent in the corner, the others paying him no mind. He felt the others could handle the business interaction, as he had already spoken to Requiem about this particular run, and knew what lay ahead. Requiem focused his attentions on the three in front of him, seeing Falchion had blended into the background. They had formed an agreement to allow the others to engage Requiem in the negotiations.
“Well, you’ve piqued our interest,” Mr. Popular broke in; his impatience seemed to pulse through the still air of the room. Requiem quirked his brow towards Mr. Popular, “Indeed, I have. Very well, here is a small packet of information on your target. The job is easy enough, and you’ve got a maximum of two weeks. Ten thousand for the job, and we’re willing to pay twenty five hundred upfront.” With only a minor pause Requiem spoke again, “Yes, call me when you’ve completed the job, I wish to get this project underway as soon as possible.” Requiem gave them the slightest of waves, and bid them good day before immersing himself in his computer.
Entertainment grabbed the back of her chair and made a flip off the back of it, and made her way towards the door. Mr. Popular slowly rose from his chair, his face was a look of indignity, and he made a noise as if snorting. Without even the slightest look of acknowledgement Requiem spoke, “If you have a problem with the details Mr. Popular, I highly suggest you take them up with your teammate.”
Mr. Popular walked to Requiem’s desk, his strut was confident, grabbing the envelope of information, “Thank you Requiem, I think I will.” Shikkon rose from the chair he had occupied, as he saw his boss walking back towards him. He gave the smallest of bows, and the two of them made their way to the double doors. Entertainment and Falchion were already discussing plans for the run. Mr. Popular did not like their growing separation from his team. If only he could discipline them like his other employees. Falchion, and Entertainment, glanced over at the approaching two, seemingly interrupting their conversation. “Are we all set?” A small smile was on Falchion’s face as his voice was polite and cordial.
Mr. Popular made a small scoff and continued through the doors. He was above Falchion, and here he was being asked to work for him, it was his team, not Falchion’s. The very notion, and Falchion’s little snide mannerisms, agitated Mr. Popular to no end. As Shikkon passed through the doors following his charge, he nodded to Falchion and Entertainment. Falchion gestured to Entertainment to follow them, and as he left the office he glanced over his shoulder at Requiem giving a quick nod. His icy stare following them as the doors closed behind them.
The quartet waited in the elevator as it moved down the floors. Silence invaded the space, as they were the only ones taking a service elevator to the basement. No one seemed to pay any attention to Falchion as he simple faded into the surroundings of the elevator, vanishing from sight. As they disembarked from the elevator, they walked an empty service corridor, and headed to an underground garage.
As they entered the corridor, Mr. Popular glanced around to notice that Falchion had disappeared. “Does anyone know where Falchion has gone, again?” Mr. Popular asked around with disdain. He didn’t need this, he had a job to do, and one of his subordinates had now vanished without a trace. Mr. Popular looked to Entertainment as she gave a simple shrug. In reality Falchion had told her he had some things to do, but would meet up with her later tonight. Mr. Popular only ignored this latest act of defiance, and took the chance to assert himself that much further.
“We have a job to do, and I for one, want punctuality.” He gave a sharp look at Entertainment who ignored him. “We shall meet at Shikkon’s place tonight around 8 p.m. Perhaps you can convince your boyfriend to fit us into his busy schedule.” Mr. Popular kept his voice biting, and pointed, as he aimed his sights at Entertainment. Entertainment looked at Mr. Popular, anger flickered in her eyes, but she kept her demeanor flippant, “Yeah, Falchion’ll be there. Can you guys give me a ride back to my place?” Her question wasn’t even a hesitation on her part.
Before Mr. Popular could answer, a look of surprise registering across his face at Entertainment’s rudeness, Shikkon replied positively. “Depends on which direction you’re headed.” Shikkon looked at her plainly, ignoring Mr. Popular’s disbelief.
“Actually I live only a few blocks from your club, Shikkon.” Entertainment responded smiling. “No problem, we’ll drop you off in front of the club,” Shikkon answered as he opened the door for Mr. Popular. Mr. Popular felt as if he had no say in the matter, and simply climbed into the back, deciding he would save his complaints with Shikkon’s behavior for later. After all it was a polite thing to do, despite her being filth.
Entertainment climbed into the rear of the car on the other side opposite of Mr. Popular. She fiddled around with the various switches and buttons before the car lurched forward. As the luxury car hummed silently down the street, every part in working order and perfection, Entertainment turned to Mr. Popular, and spoke calmly and direct in Japanese, “You know, I used to work for you Japs.” Her language was second nature, but to Mr. Popular it was distasteful and unfitting for someone like her.
He simply ignored her, and she continued, “And I just want to say, that we’re in this thing together. We’ve got to do our best to work together.” She couldn’t see Mr. Popular roll his eyes, and paused staring out at the passing traffic. “I just want you to know, that I’m your man. I’ve got no lost love for your kind, but I’m your man.”
Mr. Popular couldn’t believe his ears, and looked at her in disbelief. All he could muster was a feeble, “Oh?” She glanced over at him, and laughed a little, “Yeah, why, is that hard to believe?” Mr. Popular quickly regained his composure, “It’s not hard to believe, Entertainment, I’m a natural born leader. I’m glad to hear it. After we complete this task we can anoint you in my apartment.” Entertainment continued to stare out at the roving street, “Yeah, whatever,” Her response was indifferent.
The car slowed and parked in front of Shikkon’s club, The Diamond. Entertainment, and Mr. Popular heard the driver door open and Shikkon speaking to someone. Entertainment’s door opened as Shikkon held it open for her, and as she climbed out of the car she gave a little thankful nod to Shikkon. A valet at the club held the other door open for Mr. Popular, and after closing the door, he climbed into the driver’s seat and drove the car away to park it.
“We’re going to take care of some matters here at the club,” Shikkon spoke to Entertainment as she began her trip home. “Remember, 8 p.m., please inform Falchion, and try not to be late.” Entertainment gave a blind wave to the two of them as she walked down the sidewalk, weaving in and out of the various people. She thought she heard Shikkon say something else, but the murmuring of the crowd she found herself in had drowned anything else out.
Entertainment returned home, where she began planning for tonight’s endeavor. She polished her blades, and checked her pistols. She wasn’t sure what to expect, and prepared for going to work. After a couple of hours her intercom gave a loud buzzing noise. She found it strange that someone was ringing her apartment, since only a couple of people knew where she lived. She decided it was probably a mistake and ignored it. After a moment the buzzing died down, and she felt strangely relieved.
She decided to pay it no mind, and refocused her thoughts about the different armaments she had laid out. After a minute she began thinking about Falchion and how curious he was. He would shift from polite and playful one minute, and the next become professional and business orientated. Entertainment was amazed by his ability to switch off his emotions seemingly at a moment’s notice for someone so young. He couldn’t have been more than twenty she thought.
As she continued thinking about Falchion, there came a light tap from her windows. Her windows had been painted shoddily by the last tenant, white to give cover from the outside world and brighten the dark apartment. She hesitantly moved to the windows, and pressed her back against the wall. Through small specks in the paint, she peered on the outside world. She was sure she had heard a tapping noise come from her windows, but now all she saw was a dangling rope less than half a meter from her building.
She stood pressed against the wall for a few minutes, completely tensed, waiting for something to happen. The rusty metallic fire escape let out a creak, that Entertainment barely heard. The creak could’ve been just a simple sound of age, but for Entertainment it was the sound of weight being added to ancient metal contraption.
Another tap came from the window, this time it was more audible and sounded like metal on glass. Entertainment thought she could tell where the tapping had come from. She felt if she needed too, she could have pinpointed an attack through the window to hit this invisible assassin. Before she could act, a strange noise came through the window softly. She pressed as close as she dared to the window, her breathing tight and controlled.
“E, it’s me, its Falchion,” she heard barely through the glass. His voice was so hushed, and partially muffled through the glass. Entertainment stumbled back from the wall, and bumped into a small table. “Can you let me in?” His voice was slightly louder, but still muffled coming through the glass.
Entertainment fumbled quickly with the window, sliding it open as best she could. It had been many years since anyone had opened the windows in her apartment, and the paint didn’t help trying to open them. She managed to open the window half way, before Falchion said, “that’s good enough.”
A minute had passed and Entertainment wondered if Falchion had climbed through the half open window. She saw nothing, nor could hear anything. Just as she began moving to look out the window, it began closing on its own. She stared at it in a state of disbelief, she had heard about a technology that helped render people nearly invisible, but had never seen it in person. As far as she could tell Falchion was invisible, and on top of being invisible to sight, he made no sound, unless he talked.
The more she thought about Falchion, she realized in the small time they had been working together, he had never made a physical sound. It was a minute aspect to his physical nature, and she hadn’t really paid it any mind. Now as she tried to examine his invisible form, she noticed that he didn’t make any noise, and it became disturbingly evident.
Once the window had fully closed and the latch re-adjusted itself, Falchion appeared standing, smiling by the window. His brown locks were mussed from being under the conforming hood of his armor. Entertainment could detect a faint amount of perspiration on his forehead.
“Sorry about, dropping by unannounced, but I didn’t know how else to get a hold of you,” Falchion’s voice was polite and almost sheepish. He shifted slightly uncomfortably. Entertainment smiled a little a bit, at this hardened mercenary standing in her living room feeling squeamish.
He felt the pressure of the situation, an uncomfortable silence hanging in the air around him, in his throat and gave a hard swallow. “Um, yeah.” He scratched his forehead as he continued, “I got done early, and I wanted to know if you wanted to go get drinks or something.” He tried to sound confident and calm, but Entertainment detected his voice betraying him.
She took the opportunity, to make him sweat it a little. She shifted her hips and leaned back onto the wall, “I dunno, I mean drinks with you?” Entertainment shot a glance at Falchion, who had shifted his eyes to the floor. She had to hold in a laugh at his discomfort.
Seeing she had caused a little more awkwardness than intended she quickly switched to friendly, “I mean, that’d be cool and all, but we’re supposed to meet Popular and Shikkon tonight.” She had given him another small smile, a small tacit apology, something she was not accustomed too.
He looked up from the floor, his eyes had returned to the bustling, sparkling green of her eyes, “That’s no problem, we can just hangout at The Diamond until it’s time.” His voice was upbeat and sure, he was un-assumedly taking control of the situation, just like with the group, it was something magical about him. “Let’s just make sure that we’re all set to go,” Falchion commented half to himself and half to her. Entertainment gave an acknowledging nod, and looked him over. He was definitely ready to go, and as always seemed dressed as a tactical special ops member, than the young kid he was.
“I was just getting some drek together, before you surprised me, Falchion. If you give me a moment, I can put on something to wear for our “date”.” She turned as she finished talking, and headed into the adjacent bedroom. She left the door slightly ajar, so she could continue talking to him, and maybe give him a show. She had been all smiles since he had arrived and decided he was cutest when he was nervous or feeling out of place as he was now.
She returned to the living room a few moments later dressed in an elegant evening gown. Falchion was rubbing the back of his hair looking at the floor. He was unsure how to respond to her comments, and as he looked up at her, he quickly averted his eyes. “Do you like it?” She said with feint innocence, fully knowing that he enjoyed her outfit.
He gave her a quick glance as he responded, “Yeah, you look great.” He had barely managed to get it out, his voice almost breaking, something that hadn’t happened to him in a few years. He gave her a strained smile the stress of the situation was not something he was used too. He was used to high-pressure situations, and at that moment he would have rather been facing a troll with an assault cannon.
Her voice became dipped with honey, “Falchion, are you,” a pause in her voice, only adding to her torture of him, “blushing?” She gave him a wicked smile, at her emphasis. He just kept his head down, and moved to the door. A meek and weak voice came from Falchion as he spoke, “no..”. His eyes glued to the floor in front of him, as his hand found the locks on the door, and undid them.
She smiled as she crossed the floor to her arrangement of gear she had spread out before. As she bent over the pick them up, she couldn’t help but make a small display out of it. She meticulously gathered her things, and packed them into her handbag. She didn’t realize it, but Falchion did. He noticed that she looked very similar to the last time they went to The Diamond. Except for her purple wig and her dress was longer, she looked very similar to the first excursion to The Diamond.
She walked to the door, and nodded smiling to Falchion. He had opened the door for her, and stood waiting for her to pass through it. She continued smiling, and waved at him to pass through. It was a polite gesture, but she wanted to lock the door. He seemed to understand and walked out hurriedly in front of her. She gave a quick glance at him as he walked in front of her. She locked her apartment door, and nearly laughed at the thought of the awkward feelings she had stirred in him.
She followed him out of the apartment building. The walk took a while since he had parked several blocks away. It was nice to just walk with him, even if it was silent and dreary. They finally reached his bike, which Entertainment noticed was a heavily modified combat bike. Except for the navy blue color it looked like something from the past.
Falchion glanced around them as he grabbed a coat out of the seat of his bike. He unfolded it and handed it to Entertainment, “It might get a little cold, with your dress.” She gladly took it and put it on. She hadn’t realized the weather before she decided what to wear for the evening. He climbed on, and padded the seat behind him for her to sit. Once she was on, and she had secured herself behind him by wrapping her arms around him, the bike gave a quick roar and they were off into the humdrum of city life. The bike, like its owner moved with surprising acrobatic fluidity through traffic with a deft ease that Entertainment had not experience on a motorized vehicle. She could feel the wind nipping at them as they drove; it was cold, but exhilarating.
Entertainment noticed that Falchion had taken a longer route to The Diamond than was necessary. Instead of going directly to The Diamond he weaved in and out of traffic, and looped several blocks around The Diamond. Finally he parked a few blocks away, and explained his actions. “I’ve been feeling like someone’s following us, ever since the Simon job,” he looked very serious in the shadowed alleyway. “I’m not sure if it’s the sniper I saw, or something else.” As he finished he quickly glanced around. “You go ahead to The Diamond; I’m going to give a quick scan of the area, and it’ll be better if we’re not seen walking together into the club.” Before Entertainment could protest, he had vanished from sight and she could no longer tell where he was.
Deciding not to question Falchion, even if she could, she walked towards The Diamond. Her stride was relaxed and strong. No one would have guessed that she was feeling slightly paranoid from Falchion’s words. Only the most astute observer would have noticed her subtle glances around, surveying her immediate environment. No one troubled her, save for those glances, as she walked to The Diamond. Even the bouncers didn’t pay her much mind, as she walked passed them into the club.
Once Falchion had been rendered invisible from sight he began scaling a nearby building. If someone could have seen him, they might have confused him with some sort of spider like creature. Using his own blend of acrobatics, and the enhancements he had received, he quickly and silently reached the top of the building.
He perched himself atop the ledge of the smaller brick building, and peered out onto the city streets below. He was no stranger to heights, and began to move from building to building. He would stop at each ledge to look around, observing the area with a spider’s perspective. He was seeking for a clue, a hint of the presence he felt around him. He usually wasn’t paranoid, and often his intuitions were correct. No matter how many times he thought about it, he couldn’t shake the feeling of being followed.
As he neared The Diamond, he hadn’t found a trace, or instance, of anyone following Entertainment. As he stood on the ledge of the building across the street from The Diamond, he let out a small sigh. He leaned over the several stories and looked down. He could see the crowds on the street below bustling, but no sign of anyone or anything giving pursuit. He took one last look around the canopy of city, cracked his neck and dove off the building.
If someone had been watching him, they would have seen glimpses of a blurry image shifting, as Falchion fell to the street below. As the wind soared by him, he felt a bit of relief in his plummet. A small twist of his body, and a pull on his muscles, he grabbed a hold of a light pole. Using the momentum of the fall, he swung himself around it till he gained control over his body. He let himself feel the freedom of the spin, but the light creaking of the pole quickly brought him back to the task at hand.
He climbed onto the top of the lamppost and crouched holding loosely to the bar below him. He looked below him, and studied the different patrons passing directly below him, waiting in line to get into The Diamond. The blur that had flown through the air above them like a sparrow, had vanished again, re-immersing itself back into the surroundings. He made an effortless aerial twist off the streetlight, and silently landed on the marquee overhang of The Diamond, it was only another light creak of the metal taking on his additional weight that would have given his presence away.
He waited for the opportune moment to swing over the bouncers. He thought to himself that he could’ve just entered through another entrance, but he wanted to test his skills; keep himself sharp. He heard the door swing open, and he took his chance. His every motion swift and agile, he contorted his body upward, then flung himself down tightly gripping the overhanging precipice.
The bouncer closest to the door, looked up, and then behind him, feeling bewildered. He had felt a gush of wind, but saw no sign of any cause. His attentions shortly returned to the crowd of people in front of the club waiting to get in, and he continued without a second thought to the rush of wind.
Once Falchion was inside and managed to get into a bathroom stall, he reappeared and removed a small pack that had been attached to his back. He quickly changed into less conspicuous attire, and neatly packed his tactical gear into the small pack. He mussed his hair a little, and straightened it out, running his fingers through his chin length brown locks.
He looked down at his “normal” looking attire and breathed a little. He patted down his jacket attempting to remove the wrinkles to no avail. He left the top button on his shirt open, and tried to crease his slacks. He could still feel the hard metal pressed against the small of his back, and the pulsing through his veins. While his appearance was subtle and inconspicuous he still carried weapons on him, a blade, and five distinct rings seemingly permanently attached to him. He didn’t expect much, but wanted to be ready in case something did happen. You never could be too careful in this line of work.
He gave up trying to fix his appearance any further and slid the pack back on. It was a strange appearance, this floppy, wrinkled young adult walking out of the bathroom. He looked like an art student just taking an afternoon off for clubbing, but it was a stark contrast to the rich and elite that permeated the rest of the club. Falchion made his way towards the bar in hopes that Entertainment awaited him there. He received a few looks, some of them seemed rather unpleasant, but he paid them no mind. Those people were too concerned with stereotypes for Falchion. He had other things on his mind than ignorance and stupidity.
It only took Falchion a few minutes of searching before he found Entertainment. Despite being mid-afternoon, mid-week, The Diamond had a small crowd. Entertainment noted that the club always seemed to have business in it, but she admitted that she had only been inside a couple of times. They sat for an hour conversing and sipping on a few drinks. After a while Entertainment suggest they move to the second floor, so they would be in prime position to continue drinking, and be ready for a meeting. Falchion thought it might be a bit premature, since they still had over four hours before they were supposed to meet with Shikkon and Mr. Popular.
Either way he found himself sitting at the small bar on the second floor, with several empty glasses in front of him. Entertainment too had several empty glasses in front of her, and both of them still sat upright and conversing, their words not even beginning to slur.
“You know, if I didn’t know any better I would never guess you were an elf, the way you carry yourself, and being a decent drinker,” although Falchion’s words weren’t slurred his comment suggested he was feeling the effects of the drinks in his system.
Entertainment just shrugged off the slightly racist comment and playfully poked back, “And you drink pretty well for a kid and a human.” A grin had creased her glossed lips. Her words fell almost completely on deaf ears as Falchion, mesmerized, stared at her glowing persona. Quickly realizing he was staring, he turned his gaze distantly to the bar. Falchion had begun to zone out of the room, his perceptions gazing elsewhere entirely.
His words were far away, and monotone, “Not human; my mother was a human, and my dad was a dwarf.” He blinked hard and came back to reality, turning to look at Entertainment as he downed another drink. Entertainment was taken aback, she hadn’t seen it before, but she noticed his slightly pointed ears, and his physical features were stout and defined. She had gotten close looks at him before, but it wasn’t until his words that she noticed more closely his heritage.
“No wonder,” was all Entertainment could manage as she stared at the dozen empty glasses sitting in front of Falchion. She gave a slight hiccup from the liquid coursing through her veins. A light chuckle came from Falchion as he smiled at her. She ignored him and finished her drink.
“Alright, how ‘bout a little drinking contest, then?” Entertainment asked as she turned slyly. Falchion grinned a little and with a look of curiosity, “You think you can keep up with me?” His face had almost lit into a full smile. “A mere dwarf?” Both of them had forgone any subtly and let out mischievous looks. Falchion looked at a small digital display on his wrist, “We’ve still got a couple of hours before the meeting, let’s go.” The bartender overhearing them, filled fresh shot glasses in front of them. Falchion stared at Entertainment who returned the look; each of them had locked into a friendly contest of wills. To be settled by a test of stamina.
Falchion opened his eyes, and found himself confused. It took a moment for his eyes to settle and distinguish what he was looking at, but soon he realized he was staring at a ceiling. He found this even more confusing because he was unsure as to why he was staring at a ceiling. Furthermore he realized he had to be at a meeting with Shikkon, and Mr. Popular. It was then that he felt the soft cushion of a pillow under his head, and was utterly perplexed. He had gone to the club to meet about the latest run, and he was now laying down looking up at a ceiling.
He sat up to find out he had been placed on a couch, or at least he assumed he had been placed there because he had been sitting at a bar with Entertainment. Entertainment it seemed had sprawled herself all over, and upside down, on another couch adjacent from the couch he found himself sitting on. He gave a glance to either side of him, trying to recollect his bearings and thoughts.
A strong pulse hit him in the head, and he had to sit back as not to fall over. He gave a couple of blinks and looked down, it appeared that quite a mess had been made. His shirt and pants were covered in various wet substances, which he could only assume as different bodily fluids, and Falchion let out a sigh.
He stripped off his dirty clothes, and began removing different straps and gear from his pack. He slid into his sleek blue form-fitting body armor, and fastened the belts and buckles adorned over his body. He re-adjusted the knife at the small of his back, and looked things over. His head was pulsing, but he was fully dressed and ready to go. He wobbled a bit, as he moved towards Entertainment, and stood still. The effects of alcohol still coursing through him, he reached into his pack and pulled out a small patch and stuck it to his neck. His senses that were dulled now sparked to life, and he twitched slightly with a shudder of his nerves and muscles. Ah stimpacks he thought to himself, what glorious technology.
As he crouched over Entertainment, he noticed she too was covered in similar fluids and particles of what could have been food. Her light makeup was streaked down her face and her short hair tussled. He grabbed her shoulder and shook her gently, “Entertainment, wake up.” He kept his voice calm and soothing so as not to startle her.
Her eyes gave a flutter and looked sleepily and dazed at him. “Whu?” She managed to mumble. “What’s going on? Didn’t you have fun?” He choked back a laugh, as she was still out of it. “E, we’ve got to go, I think we’re really late,” he glanced at the digital display at his wrist, and nodded. “Yep, really late.”
Entertainment wobbly sat up on the couch holding her head as if bracing against an unseen force. Falchion could only empathize with her as he had just undergone the feeling seconds ago. He pulled another small patch out, and offered it to her. She silently disregarded it, and began undressing. Falchion stumbled back and quickly turned stashing away the patch back into his pack.
After a minute she gave him a tap him on the shoulder, and gave him a raised eyebrow and a nod. They left the secluded room together in tacit acknowledgement of each other. As they reached the door leading out of the second floor a voice called out to them from across the room. “Boss told me to tell you two, that he went ahead to scout out a location, whatever that means.” The bartender who had been serving them drinks was walking up to them.
Falchion looked at him questioningly, “How long ago, did he leave?” The bartender focused his attention on Falchion, “He disappeared into the room you just walked out of about two hours ago; he left with someone who always seems to be following the boss around half an hour later.” Falchion and Entertainment glanced at each other, and Falchion turned back to the bartender. “Thanks chummer, you’ve been really helpful. Falchion pulled his pack in front of him, and fished around in it for a moment. The bartender bowed graciously, and walked back to the bar.
Falchion pulled out a piece of paper from the pack, and walked over to the bar. “I’ll give my compliments to your boss, this is for you,” Falchion said as he placed the paper on the bar. He gave a small nod to the bartender and left out the door with Entertainment. The bartender picked up the piece of paper, and was surprised to see it. The polite young man had left a paper tip of money for him, a ten thousand yen note, a strange occurrence in this day and age.
As Falchion and Entertainment mounted his sports bike he looked over his shoulder, “You ready? We’ve got to make up for lost time.” Entertainment held onto him snuggly and gave a nod. The bike gave a roar, and they vanished into the night heading for a destination Falchion hadn’t physically been in years, the Redmond Barrens, and to the home of an old man named Falchion.
The Falchion
Mr. Popular tapped loudly and impatiently on the table he occupied. He glanced around and felt disgusted to be in the company of lesser men. To be mingling with such trash. He was an honorable man, a businessman, and here he was being subjected to indecency.
He was having trouble deciding which was worse: his two supposed subordinates, Entertainment and Falchion, or the naked women prancing around servicing various businessmen. It was a situation that was rapidly souring for Mr. Popular.
The meeting was supposed to start at 8 p.m. and while Falchion and Entertainment were there, they were inebriated to a barely functioning level. He couldn’t concentrate on talking to his reliable bodyguard, Shikkon Shin, and owner of the club they were using as a public base of operations. He needed to get out of there and fast.
As Entertainment and Falchion continued their barrage of beverages, Mr. Popular decided to begin the meeting without them. “All we’ve got to do tonight is just investigate the area, nothing more. We don’t need the two of them for tonight, and when we’re ready to make a move we can use the information we gathered tonight.” Mr. Popular’s sentence trailed as he looked over at the drunken pair.
“I’m not sure what we want to do about those two, though,” Mr. Popular continued looking at them with disgust.
“It’s okay boss, we can leave them here. It would probably be the safest place for them, after they finish. And you’re right, we don’t need them for a simple scout, but if we’re going to move on this guy we should probably have them just in case.” Shikkon looked over at them as he spoke to Mr. Popular. “Especially Falchion, he seems well prepared for most situations and seems to have outside information on the target.” Shikkon turned from Falchion to Mr. Popular. “But we don’t have to worry we can stash them in one of the private rooms, and no one will disturb them.”
“Very well, let’s get them moved into a room, and while we’re at it we can discuss, in private, any further negotiations.” Mr. Popular turned to Shikkon and gave a small nod. Shikkon’s face stoned as usual stood up from his chair, and moved to the bar where the other two had fallen to the floor. He let out a small sigh, and looked at the bartender. “I want to put these two in a VIP room, and they’re not to be disturbed. When they regain consciousness, please tell them I’ve gone ahead to scout out a location. Thank you, Haru.” The bartender only responded in a polite nod.
Shikkon gave a small motion with his fingers, and the bartender and the door bouncer moved to the spot where Shikkon was standing. He motioned to Falchion and Entertainment, and they were gathered up like misplaced toys. Shikkon walked to a door in the very corner of the second floor, his employees following close behind him, carrying the two drunken bodies.
Falchion and Entertainment were placed on separate couches, and as Shikkon stood in the middle of the private room, he looked them over. He gave a wave to his employees and they returned to their posts dutifully. Mr. Popular entered the room shortly after their dispersal. Mr. Popular’s confident gait shamed the respect Shikkon and his employees were emanating. It was something Shikkon had grown accustomed to and tried to pay no attention to it. It was just his nature, and likely part of the reason why Popular was a low-level boss, for better or worse.
Mr. Popular and Shikkon Shin stood discussing for less than ten minutes about a possible plan of action, and left Falchion and Entertainment to their drunken dreams. Shikkon drove and they began their journey into one of deepest recesses of the Shadows, the Redmond Barrens.
Shikkon looked in the rearview mirror as they crossed over the border into Redmond. With the traffic, even at this time of night, their trip took almost an hour. As they neared the exit they wanted they heard the dull roar of heavily modified bikes. Shikkon looked again into the mirror, he couldn’t fully tell at their distance, but he could guess who they were.
He glanced over his shoulder at Mr. Popular, “Buckle up, we’ve got some punk go-gangers incoming.” Shikkon floored the pedal of the luxury sedan knowing full well that they wouldn’t out run the bikers, but give him a few seconds of time. As Mr. Popular finished fastening his belt, the lights of the street bikes reflected off the back of the car as the closed in on their prey.
Shikkon smiled confidently as two of the bikes pulled along either side of the car, and two tried to box them in from behind, baiting the car to make a move. Before the bikes behind them made a move, Shikkon slammed on the brakes, allowing the two go-gangers to impact with the rear of the car. Sending them both catapulting over the front of the car, Shikkon deftly maneuvered the car, maintaining control while the bikes imbedded themselves firmly in the back.
The car came to a slowed halt, and its headlights peered on the two ragged forms of go-gangers. They had hit the top of the car, rolled over it and hit the pavement splattering and ripping clothing, flesh, and bone, as they skidded several meters from the now partially crumpled luxury car. “Get ready Popular.” Shikkon’s focus never diverted from the other bikes that had sped past them, his hand instinctively moving from gear-shift to a Salvette Guardian in one motion. He unlocked the safety on the heavy pistol, as he unlocked the doors.
Shikkon opened the driver door but stayed sitting, waiting for the right moment, as the go-ganger’s bikes bared down on them. Mr. Popular sprang into action a bit too early and climbed out of the rear passenger seat. Instead of using the door for full cover, Mr. Popular stood aiming his Predator pistol at the ganger speeding at them, to the right of the car. It was dark, and the bike’s headlights partially blinded him, but he took aim, and fired a couple of rounds in the direction of the headlight.
The first round found itself imbedded in the headlight of the bike, and the other caused the bike to swerve, but the rider kept its balance. The bike had slowed but still closed in on its target. A burst of fire erupted from the darkness surrounding the biker, and several bullets grazed past Mr. Popular’s head, one of them nicking his shoulder. Unfazed Mr. Popular fired a couple more rounds at the biker. This time the bike fell to the ground, causing sparks as it scraped along the pavement. Mr. Popular had caught a glance of the biker fly off his bike as the two bullets found their mark.
Time had slowed down for Shikkon, his senses heightened and his reflexes working overtime. The sounds of shots being fired, kicked him into combat mode, and his every action moved as one. In one fluid motion he moved from the car, and into a cover position while his Guardian had fired two shots at the biker on their left, his smartlink telling him where to fire as much as his own skill. The sound of metal hitting metal, informed Shikkon that his bullets had found the bike and not the rider. He leapt out from his position of cover, giving him a better look at his opponent, but opening him up for an attack. Bullets whizzed harmlessly past his head, he took one aim while in mid air, squeezed the trigger, and it was over.
The second bike came crashing into where Shikkon had been, collapsing the car door back in on itself. Shikkon watched the biker fall backwards and roll tumbling along the pavement, a crumpled mass of bloodied clothing. Shikkon got to his feet, dusted himself off, and glanced over the wrecked car. “Are you okay?” He looked at Mr. Popular as he spoke.
“Yes, I’m fine.” Mr. Popular just looked back at Shikkon without flinching. His shoulder pulsed to announce the wound, but Mr. Popular ignored it. “Let’s go, doesn’t look like the car will be of much help, but maybe we can scrounge some stuff off this filth.” Mr. Popular was fixing his suit, which wasn’t wrinkled, or messed up except for the rip where a bullet had grazed his shoulder. Shikkon didn’t notice the blood on Mr. Popular’s shoulder as they walked towards the dead bodies, and Mr. Popular maintained his composure.
Searching through their tattered forms, they found little that they could use, except one credstick. Mr. Popular picked up a small pistol they had used, and examined it. “No wonder; machine pistol, light but effective for someone with terrible aim, or riding on a bike while shooting.” Shikkon looked up from the stain on the pavement at Mr. Popular, and just shook his head. “Let’s get out of here, who knows who’ll be by, it is Redmond.” Shikkon said as he rose from the body and began walking towards the exit, leaving the compacted metal that had been two bikes and a luxury sedan, which had a small fire now going inside the car.
It took them another hour to reach their destination, a humble and modest neighborhood. One that had managed to escape the hardships the buildings around it had endured. The violence of the Barrens seemed to be ever present, except in this small neighborhood. Even with a strange aura of protection, it still had seen its fair share of abuse and decay.
The hour was approaching eleven, and not a single light could be seen any of the buildings, save one. As they walked down the street they concealed themselves in the abundant amount of shadowed areas, dodging the minimal streetlights that adorned the road. It was the building they had come to observe, which held the only light. It called to them, and it seemed too much of a coincidence to be anything else. They scouted the remainder of the street and walked around the block to hide in a shadowed alleyway two buildings down to decide what their next course of action was.
As if one coincidence could follow another, Shikkon began buzzing. As he looked down to investigate, he realized his phone was ringing. Seeing that it was Falchion, he answered, a little surprised to be hearing from them so soon. Before Shikkon could say anything, the sharpness of Falchion’s voice cut into his ear, “Where are you guys?”
Mr. Popular was looking out of the alleyway to investigate the sound of a vehicle approaching their alleyway. He would have paid it no mind anywhere else, but they were in the Barrens and had just taken care of four go-gangers. Mr. Popular tensed as he saw that it was a modified sports bike, not that dissimilar from the ones on the highway, what he had seen of them.
“We’re hiding in an alleyway near our target, we just scouted the location and it seems clean. We were just about to decide what to do next when you called,” Shikkon’s voice trailed a little bit, and Falchion took no delay to cut in. “We just arrived we’re right around the corner from his apartment, we’ll park a block ahead and meet you guys in the first alleyway on his street.” The conversation ended before Shikkon could agree as Falchion hung up.
Mr. Popular pressed against the wall to avoid being seen by the bike, and as it passed by them unsuspectingly, he saw that the bike carried two passengers. Shikkon moved forward to the edge of the alley and peered out. Checking around he saw a clear shot to the street and motion for Mr. Popular to follow him.
They crossed the street, as stealthily as they could, Shikkon’s skill overshadowing Mr. Popular. He fluttered and glided like the shadows they hid in, while Mr. Popular walked with less arrogance than usual. Shikkon glanced over his shoulder and rolled his eyes at Mr. Popular’s idea of stealth.
As they rounded the corner and slid into another alley, they concealed themselves into the shadows as best they could. They had several meters from one end to the other, but this alleyway opened up onto another street. Shikkon felt almost out in the open, but slowly he managed to meld into the shadows, even Mr. Popular who knew where Shikkon was had a hard time actually seeing him.
They stood pressed up against the separate walls of the alley, waiting for Falchion and Entertainment. Thoughts crossed Shikkon’s mind as they stood waiting, he began to wonder what was taking them so long to meet up. Had he and Mr. Popular hid in the right alleyway? No longer than it took him to contemplate different outcomes, he heard someone coming from the rear of the alley.
Entertainment was only a tad better at being stealthy than Mr. Popular, but Shikkon had spent many hours practicing stealth. On the other hand Falchion seemed to be on another level altogether. Falchion could not be seen, nor heard. Even when Entertainment had almost reached them, he still made no move to announce his presence. When Entertainment was on top of them, Mr. Popular finally noticed she was there. Shikkon moved to ask where Falchion was, but felt an invisible hand on his shoulder holding him back from announcing his whereabouts.
“Where’s Shikkon?” Entertainment’s voice was hushed, but could be heard between the four of them. Shikkon smiled a bit, and assumed that Falchion was on his right shoulder.
Before Mr. Popular could answer, Falchion appeared out of thin air to them, holding onto Shikkon’s shoulder, “Right here, my good lady.” His voice was hushed but there was a playful nature to it. Even though you couldn’t discern any facial features due to the mask and gear, you could hear it in his voice. Entertainment and Mr. Popular almost jumped at his voice and the sudden appearance, or realization, of Falchion and Shikkon.
“You realize, that’s just creepy, right?” Entertainment did not look amused. “But you’ve got to admit that it’s useful for just about any job.” Falchion’s voice continued to be playful full of a smile. “No, just creepy,” Mr. Popular spoke up his voice condescending as usual. “We don’t have time for games, little boy, we’ve got a job to do, or did you..” Falchion cut Mr. Popular off before he could continue, “I haven’t forgotten old man, the time to move is now, and we couldn’t have had more perfect timing.” Falchion’s tone never changed, which unsettled both Popular and Entertainment.
Without another word, Falchion began to scale the walls of the alleyway. The others stood and watched him in a small amount of awe, as he deftly climbed like a spider. As he reached the top, Shikkon followed him with almost as much grace, but Shikkon was too bulky to completely emulate Falchion. A rope was lowered and Entertainment followed the lead of the other two and used more flair than was need, using the adjacent walls like a video game character. As she reached the top she felt a small measure of satisfaction because she hadn’t used the rope that Falchion had lowered.
Mr. Popular feeling slightly inferior began to scale the walls, but his aptitudes lay elsewhere, before he even could make it above his head Mr. Popular grabbed a hold of the rope and climbed up with help from Falchion. As he neared the top of the building the rope gave one last tug, and Mr. Popular stumbled over. Falchion helped him steady himself, and spoke softly but firmly to the group. “We’re now in complete silence, we move together, but it is with the up most stealth. Our target is not someone to be trifled with, and he will take advantage of any weakness we exhibit to him, no matter how small.” He looked around the group, and each person responded silently with a nod.
As swiftly as he had climbed the building he began sprinting across the roof. His feet made no sound as he ran, and his first leap was a spiraling twist that Entertainment thought looked beautiful. Shikkon was close behind him, and followed with a spring flip off the edge of the roof. Entertainment did a simple jump and roll as she landed on the next roof. She managed to keep her form graceful and flamboyant even while doing something in a mundane fashion. Mr. Popular once again was left behind, but managed to keep up with the rest of them. He would have rather been in a straight out fight, or some negotiation, than sneaking around, jumping from rooftop to rooftop. Mr. Popular felt out of place, and his feelings only frustrated him more.
After a few more leaps, flips, twists, and bounds Falchion came to a standstill in the middle of a roof. Mr. Popular looked back as Falchion held his fist up to halt the group. He saw that they were about five buildings in from the corner, and assumed they were on top of the building of their target.
Falchion looked around the group and brought his index finger to where his mouth would’ve been, indicating silence, and bent down to touch the roof. Falchion only crouched a minute and the others questioned what he was actually doing, but just as quickly he was gone again, vanished in plain sight. Entertainment and Mr. Popular tried to follow where he had blended into the surroundings but could only see the surroundings and not Falchion. Shikkon had no issue following Falchion’s movements and watched as Falchion stealthily crept towards a rickety old roof entrance that still had a wooden door.
Shikkon moved silently towards, what Entertainment and Mr. Popular could only describe as an ancient wooden structure. They followed him, assuming he had some knowledge of the building, or knew of some tacit plan between him and Falchion. The door creaked open by itself, and instantly they knew Falchion had entered the building, from there they moved as quiet as possible.
They moved cautiously down each step, and slowly took their time as the descended the stairwell. As they approached the second floor, from the third they noticed a black figure pressed up against the wall. Falchion was standing to the right of a door, looking at the group as they came down the stairwell. Falchion gave them a wave to signal to them to halt their actions. Shikkon and Mr. Popular paused on the stairwell, crouching down to give themselves partial cover. Entertainment moved to the left of the door and pressed against the wall mimicking Falchion’s posture. Each of them held a weapon, and readied themselves for whatever was behind the door.
The space between the floor and the door was dark. Apparently from the scouting and their move to the door the target inside had turned off the lights. Falchion was the first to move, and lightly checked the door. It was unlocked and he pushed it slowly open, not a single thing could be seen inside the darkened apartment, beyond the dim lighting of the hallway. Falchion slowly moved into the shadowed room, the others waited for a sign in the hallway, carefully watching the open doorway.
The Redmond Barrens, a desolate wasteland, one of the many vestiges of a cesspool that was humanity, or so the rich and elite of Seattle always yammered on about it. Actually, most people called it ‘the Barrens’ for a reason. Here, a young man, dressed as one of the rich professionals of the corporate life, found himself, taking a stroll at a little past ten, on some random street, in the same self styled hell-hole of the Barrens.
He called himself The Gate, he had at one point gone by another name, but it was all he knew now. He was a “professional” shadowrunner, if there was such a thing he thought, and had not even come to know his seventeenth year of life. They called him a whiz kid, some silly notion of skill for someone so young. He felt that he was lucky, and had something to prove to the scumbags around him, or otherwise they’d eat him alive. He had more important matters to deal with, than to fear the Shadows. He’d seen more than some of the so-called veterans of many years had ever seen.
He had been following some loser for a few weeks now, at the request of an employer, some Mafioso. It had been relatively uneventful for him, delivering an envelope to him, and basically babysitting this slag for his Johnson. His mark looked ridiculous and carried the street name of Mickey the Quail. He apparently owed the mafia for something, or had done a number on them some years back. Possibly before The Gate had been born, but he wasn’t going to question it, it was his first real lead into what truly mattered to him in this callous world, his sister.
Even though Mickey lived in the Barrens, he had taken his briefcase out with him to another building a couple of blocks away. The Gate knew that Mickey’s only apparent skill resided in that suitcase, and had followed him keeping his distance. The Gate had come to realize that Mickey was completely paranoid, and insane. Years of living on the run, can do that to you I guess, The Gate thought.
The Gate had watched Mickey disappear around the corner into an alleyway. The Gate concealed himself with the energies of the life force around him. To only a skilled few, could The Gate actually be seen, for this was his ability. The reason he was referred to as a whiz, he could do things that people, ten, twenty years older, could only dream of.
The Gate quickly closed the gap between them, knowing that Mickey wouldn’t see him at a quick glance. He slowed his pace as he neared the corner of the building, and peered into the alley. The Gate watched as he saw Mickey climbing up a creaky fire escape, to reach the roof. The Gate sauntered into the alley and waited for him to reach the top. He walked around the building to check it out. He looked for any other exits that Mickey could use. Barring a rooftop entrance, the only way that Mickey could escape him was the creaky fire escape on the building’s left side.
Mickey tried to move stealthily, but the metal contraption he was using was not co-operating. Every movement of his lanky frame was met by a cranky squeal of metal on brick. As he reached the rooftop he breathed a sigh of relief. He had been given instructions yet again to observe a group of runners, and had gone straight to the site to watch. He had found an excellent vantage point to watch anything and everything that might go on for this group of runners second run.
He crouched low into a prone position and crawled his way across the rooftop, staying well hidden, dragging his briefcase as silently as possible with him. He reached the far side and lay motionless and after a few moments he began to assemble his rifle, and adjust his eyes. Despite being on a barren and open rooftop he managed to hide himself as well as anyone, and much like the bird of his namesake he had managed to blend decent enough into the surroundings.
Mickey the Quail peered over the ledge of the roof, and had a good view of the apartment he had been assigned to observe. For he knew if the runners failed in their mission he was there as their subtle backup. He also managed to get a look at the street below, and felt pretty secure in his current state compared to the past few weeks. He knew this was a fleeting emotion but savored it anyway. It wouldn’t be long before the hairs on the back of his neck would stand upright.
Mickey waited and listened to the air around him, feeling the very air bearing down on him. Like the stress of his life was pressing in around him. His senses subtly returned to the present and Mickey re-focused himself. He found himself on the rooftop again, no longer sweating in the past, and with that it snapped. His mission had begun again and he could spot several dark figures moving across the rooftops heading for the middle building. As if in perfect timing the figures stopped in the presumed middle of the roof, and the light in the targeted apartment went out.
Mickey took the opportunity to spy on the would-be runners through his scope. It was a little difficult to make out each of the individuals, but saw that all the original players had returned. Mickey took special note that the skilled individual who could vanish on sight was back in charge, and just like before he had managed to disappear from Mickey’s sights. At least this time he didn’t wave to me, Mickey thought to himself with an almost sigh of relief. The other three escaped his sights by entering a rickety wooden shack, a rooftop entrance that the building he occupied seemed to be lacking.
The moments breathed by Mickey, as seconds turned into minutes. Each moment for him was an exasperation of the already tense situation he found himself in. Only being complicated by the eerily familiar creak of the metal he had just climbed. Mickey took a quick glance behind him, leaving his rifle aimed towards the building. He bothered to barely move only removing a Slivergun from his breast holster; something that he was not accustomed to using, but by no means any less proficient. It was a difficult task to keep one eye on the fire escape top rung, and another eye towards his rifle. His breathing had nearly stopped as he waited in anticipation of the next move. His thoughts slowly moving away from the rifle and the job at hand to his own survival, and ever so slightly he aimed the deadly pistol towards where the fire escape and the roof met.
The Gate made the slow climb to the roof trying to make as little noise as possible. Even though he felt secure in the fact that he was invisible, the creaking sounds of the rustic fire escape announced his approach to his prey. Slowly, and cautiously he peered over the ledge of the roof as he perched on the top step of the fire escape. The Gate began to think his eyes deceived him that Mickey had not climbed to the roof of this building.
He climbed over with one final creak, and moved away from the ladder looking around. The Gate saw no other exit than this, and knew that Mickey had climbed this building. He moved to the center of the roof, and his eyes began to flicker. His perception was looking beyond the veil of the mundane world and began to perceive his true world. It was within this perception that he found Mickey, the unique colors of his aura stained by the filth of technology, huddled on the ground in the far corner of the roof.
The Gate grinned, it seemed that Mickey wasn’t completely useless after all, and given The Gate a small and momentary challenge. His eyes rolled forward again back to the “normal” world, and he moved to the far wall and sat down on the ledge. He could now just barely make out a small outline that was Mickey having completed this task he just sat and watched. His trusty Colt Manhunter now unsheathed and trained on Mickey, his eyes never moving from the corner of the roof.
Both, Mickey and The Gate, had an excellent view of the apartment across the street, even if it was completely pitch black inside. For several moments after the quartet had gone inside the building, nothing happened. Silence loomed for Mickey, who was now preoccupied with his paranoia; an insidious foe that waited in the wings for him at every turn of his life.
The rooftop companions watched as a door opened in the apartment and a black figure moved inside and into the darkness. Mickey’s focus turned back to the other apartment and waited patiently for the next move, as he could feel the stillness of the air, the waiting before the inevitable bang of battle. A bright flash erupted from inside the darkness nearly blinding both The Gate and Mickey. Twirling spots began to form in Mickey’s eyes and he had to look away, trying to focus elsewhere on the roof behind him, in partial hopes of seeing someone. Yet even after the spots dissipated he could not see a single soul atop the roof, I really could just be losing my mind, walking against the wind or something, Mickey’s thoughts strayed.
“GET DOWN!” They could all hear Falchion screaming as he came flying out of the apartment full sprint. He dove off to their left behind Entertainment, as she began ducking with surprisingly quick reflexes. Shikkon moved in-between the door and Mr. Popular, as Mr. Popular stood defiantly behind Shikkon.
A massive white light filled the hallway, and Shikkon stumbled back onto Mr. Popular. Shikkon’s hands began rubbing his eyes furiously trying to remove the blindness that had overtaken him. Mr. Popular just stared at him with a confused look on his face, for he was fine. Mr. Popular could see swirling multi-colored spots, but he was fine.
Entertainment had turned to look at Falchion who was looking away down their side of the hallway. Before she could register the events that were taking place. Falchion had moved, grabbed her, and was running down the hallway with her in tow, all at alarming speed. “MOVE!” Was all that Falchion said to the others, as Entertainment could only look back down the hallway at Shikkon and Mr. Popular standing in the stairwell.
From the doorway of the apartment a massive grizzled man stepped forward. He wielded a massive sawed off shotgun that looked like a pistol in his hands. Entertainment was surprised that this individual pointing his weapon at them was a human. His bulk was enormous, and it distorted his height. These were her thoughts as a fire shot forth from the gun, Falchion had already dove out of the window and waited below. Entertainment made a diving twist out of the window, attempting to dodge the shotgun spray, but felt a sharp burning sensation in her shoulder. It was a momentary distraction and she had leapt too far as she slammed into the wall across the alley. She quickly regained composure as she fell by contorting her body as only an acrobat of her skill could. Only a couple of meters from the ground she used the wall she had slammed into to flip off of, and landed crouched next to Falchion in the alleyway.
She followed Falchion as he walked towards the street and the edge of the alleyway, stopping pressing himself up against the nearside wall. He looked cautiously out of the alleyway to both sides of the street, only telling Entertainment to stay put. She started to protest, but Falchion vanished out of sight and was gone. How can I stay put, when all hell is breaking loose, and you run off to play invisible man? She half thought aloud, and folded her arms while leaning against the wall. Who was she to argue, Falchion had yet to lead them astray and was good at just about everything, from what she could tell.
Falchion moved across the street; he had spotted something on the rooftop across from the other Falchion’s apartment, and wanted to investigate in hopes of finding the sniper from before. He made his way around the building and found an old fire escape hanging loosely from the wall. He began his climb quickly, but noticed the noise he was making and slowed down. It had been a couple of years since the last time Falchion had been so noisy, and he cursed at himself under his breath for making a green mistake. He slowed almost to a complete stop as he was one step from the top he had creaked all the way to the top and wanted to keep an element of surprise. Leaping off the rusty ladder to grab the ledge of the roof, he held on for a moment, silently breathing. He slowly pulled himself up over the ledge, and inspected the roof. Nothing appeared to Falchion for a moment, but he gave a quick scan on the astral plane. Just as The Gate had done earlier, he spotted Mickey with the help of magical perceptions, and he spotted The Gate who had now focused on Falchion.
Mickey and The Gate had heard the creaking of the ladder and had focused their attentions on it, both of them aiming their respective weapons at the new intruder. As the creaking slowed and eventually gave one last lurch, they had expected someone to climb over, but instead got nothing but the air. The Gate quickly used his perceptions, and spotted something very peculiar.
Instead of an aura of colors, he saw a opaque colored oval shape. The Gate found this astral egg perplexing, but only aimed his gun at it. He had a job to do, and didn’t want someone new messing things up. The strange egg stopped moving, and seemed to be looking towards The Gate. The Gate continued to train his gun on the egg, and gave them a silence sign with his index finger.
It was Mickey who broke the silence, beginning to become fed up with the silence and obvious invisible people surrounding him. “Look I know you’re out there. You can drop the act, and talk to me.” The egg turned to look at Mickey, and then back to The Gate. “No, we’re just waiting on you. You see, we’re you,” The Gate’s young voice taunting Mickey. Falchion had to hold back a laugh, at The Gate’s words, and feeling a good chance as any, dropped his guise to appear to both of them.
Mickey instantly focused on Falchion aiming his Sliver gun on him, nearly firing at the heavily tactically garbed man. He quickly recognized him as one of the runners, and again thought about firing on him just because he could. Just someone to take out his frustrations on, but then the tactical man spoke. “You know I’m not here to harm either of you. I just want to talk.” Mickey breathed a sigh of relief, not from the man’s words, but an affirmation that he had been right about the other invisible person.
The Gate noticing Mickey could now see the egg; his eyes flickered back to the mundane and saw a man dressed in a completely covered outfit. He was adorned with copious amounts of blades, buckles, straps, pouches, and a set of vision enhancing goggles; he seemed to shimmer in the low light of the roof.
“This is a tad awkward way to meet, and seeing as how I’m right in the middle of something, I’ll be brief.” Falchion said, looking directly at Mickey. “It seems we’ve been working for common goals, and I’d like you to work more closely with my group. I have a feeling we’re going to be getting some bigger jobs soon, and we’re going to need more muscle as it were.” Falchion glanced over at The Gate. “This offer extends to both of you, you can call me Falchion.”
“I’ll have to check my calendar, to see if I can fit you in,” Mickey replied sarcastically. Falchion ignored the barb and continued, “If I’m not too far off we have a mutual employer. If I’m right I’ll talk to him and see if I can get you two in on the jobs.”
“Well I know about me, but I can’t vouch for the invisible kid over there,” Mickey gave a wave in the general direction of The Gate’s voice. The Gate took an opportunity to drop his invisible guard and spoke, “Well I’ve been sent as back up to observe you.” He turned to Falchion, giving him a small nod, and said, “You can call me The Gate. Thank you for the offer, Mickey and I, are interested in your offer. Aren’t you Mickey?” He gave an insidious smirk to Mickey. Mickey’s temper flared for a moment, but he managed to keep control, and let out a sigh. “Yes,” his voice sounded defeated, “You can call me The Quail; Mickey the Quail.”
Falchion’s demeanor lightened for a moment, “Great, I’ll let you two know the details after we complete this job. Now if you’ll excuse me, I must help my distressed teammates.” He gave them a light bow and vanished, The Gate followed suit, but returned to his perch and continued observing a stressed out Mickey. The Gate felt like he had few pleasures in his short life, and this seemed to be one of them. He held psychological power, proving at every turn his superiority, and professional manner over Mickey the Quail.
Falchion hopped off the bottom rung of the old ladder, and cautiously looked around upon reaching the edge of the alleyway. Seeing a clear coast, he moved across the street without so much as a whisper of his being. He slid back into the alleyway to the left of the older Falchion’s apartment building. Instead of finding Entertainment waiting in the darkness he found emptiness. He only thought on it for a moment, and climbed back up into the building carefully. Hanging at the broken window only a moment, to get a look down the hallway. Finding it empty of anyone, he climbed back into the building. Things were going to be easier if he was solo, facing his old mentor alone, and in private.
Mr. Popular could see, but it was mostly blurry shapes and swirling spots. Shikkon was attempting to get down the stairs, but was blinded by the bright flash. Mr. Popular could see the steps a little, and began a slow descent down. They had heard Falchion scream move but couldn’t see where he’d run off too, or what he was running from.
Mr. Popular gave a hard blink and water formed in his eyes, his vision returning little by little as the seconds passed. Shikkon stood stopped in his tracks for he didn’t know where the next step was, all he could see was whiteness. Mr. Popular looked at Shikkon, details were slowly coming back, and couldn’t help but feel sorry for Shikkon in his temporary state.
Suddenly the world came back to Mr. Popular, while he still saw spots, he was once again aware of the world other than himself and Shikkon. He was standing a little less than two meters from this other Falchion’s door, in an empty hallway, with not much room to maneuver. He came to this realization as he was staring a massive man with wild hair aiming a sawed shotgun down the hall firing a single round. The sound was almost deafening at such a close range, and Mr. Popular cursed at the man.
The man known as Falchion stood before Mr. Popular without an inch of remorse. His solitary right eye wild with the fires of combat; his hair matched his eyes but was aged and gray. His face was withered beyond his years, and the Shadows had left their mark on it with a massive scar that had replaced his left eye. His clothes were stained and worn. Years of abuse seemed to strain on every facet of this once great statue of a man.
Mr. Popular wished he had not cursed the man, for now his fiery gaze was upon them. Before he could act the man moved, and Mr. Popular was surprised that someone of his girth could move so quickly. He struck Shikkon in the face, and Shikkon fell to the ground holding his face. “Run, I’ll try…” was all that Shikkon could get out befor the man had his hands around Shikkon’s neck.
Mr. Popular began to take flight toward the window at the end of the hall that Falchion and Entertainment had used. He fell to the ground uncontroably, realizing as he braced for the impact that something hard had hit him in the back of the head. He tumbled away from his assailant, and turned aiming his Predator in the direction of the man. He was holding Shikkon like a weapon, despite Shikkon’s feeble protests. All Mr. Popular could do was back away, the entire time aiming his gun at the man. As Mr. Popular reached the window, the man gave a grin his face covered in wrinkles and slammed Shikkon face first into his apartment wall. Blood splattered out from Shikkon’s nose, and an indent was now imprinted into the wall.
Mr. Popular slowly climbed backwards out of the window and as he was about to drop down to the alley below, he gave one last look at the man, who he could see had turned his back to him. He was dragging Shikkon by the hair towards his apartment. Mr. Popular took this opportunity to fire a single shot down the hallway. The round flew down the hallway and hit the man square in the shoulder, and Mr. Popular felt a small measure of success. The man simply turned his head over his right shoulder, which now had blood trickling down it. He looked at Mr. Popular out of the corner of his eye, and let out a laugh. With that laugh Mr. Popular slipped from the windowsill and fell to the alley below, landing with an awkward and hard thud on the pavement.
When he looked up, he saw Entertainment standing over him. He could almost see a look of concern in her eyes. “You okay?” Entertainment asked. He nodded silent and confused. She extended a hand, and helped him to his feet. “I’m not sure that went the way it was supposed too. Not to mention Falchion’s run off somewhere.” She turned to face the street and looked distantly upwards.
The silence continued until Mr. Popular broke it, “Shikkon’s been caught by the other Falchion. He’s being held in his apartment.” Mr. Popular trailed off as he looked at a distant Entertainment. “Let’s just go talk to this Falchion and see if we can’t reason with him, or something..” Entertainment spoke, and turned to face Mr. Popular with a fazed looked.
Mr. Popular looked at Entertainment quizzically, “Reason with that, man?” Entertainment came to from her daze, “Yeah, let’s go.” Without another word from Mr. Popular, Entertainment climbed back up to the second floor window and out of sight. Mr. Popular gave out a simple sigh, and broke into the first floor window, and climbed the stairwell to the second floor.
As he climbed the last step and ascended to the second floor. Mr. Popular found Entertainment looking over her shoulder standing in front of that fateful door. The same door where he had lost Shikkon: a valuable member of his organization, bodyguard, and “friend”. Shikkon was the closest thing he knew as a friend. His position in life didn’t allow for such a weakness, and he went with Entertainment for his honor.
Entertainment grinned mischievously at Mr. Popular, and turned to face the door. She gave it a couple of taps, and waited for a response. A gruff and raspy voice responded from behind the door, “What can I do for you, miss?” Entertainment almost choked on a laugh, half from surprise and half from expectation, but kept her manner business like and professional. “I’m Ms. Jones from the Census Bureau. I’m here to take a poll on the residential conditions of this section in Redmond.” Mr. Popular just stared at Entertainment with utter disbelief, and hid himself back into the stairwell and the shadows.
“Census, Bureau? Here in Redmond, the Barrens, at eleven at night?” The gruff voice surprisingly had a smile on it, and had lost some of its rasping sound. “Yes, sir.” Entertainment continued without flinching, and Mr. Popular just continued to stare at her.
“Look kid, I’m not dumb. I know why you’re here, but I applaud you for creativity and guts. You’re here, because Ares sent you here.” A pause lingered on his weathered lips behind the old wooden door. “No; because he sent you, Requiem.” His voice darkened and slowed at the mention of the name.
Mr. Popular just looked at Entertainment in continued disbelief, as she continued to converse with this dangerous animal. “Well you apparently know more about us, than we do you. Why not tell us a little about yourself then, Falchion?” She had thought about calling him by his real name, but thought better of it. A hollow laugh came from the door, as Entertainment waited patiently.
“How about, instead of me telling you about myself, you ask your employer why he wants this place so bad? A dilapidated community in the heart of the Barrens. Why he wants to take and take until there is nothing left,” Falchion’s words carried weight through the door. “I’m sure you’re well aware sir that in my line of work, to ask my employer of such things would be rude.” Entertainment’s manner was nonchalant, and a hint of sarcasm in her words.
“Well, that’s a shame. Your friend here seems like a decent and honorable chummer. I’d very much dislike having to kill him and the two of you as well. Perhaps when you come back with a better deal, I’ll let him go.” The older Falchion’s voice was no longer gentile, and had turned sharp and bitter. Entertainment maintained her cool as she spoke, “Do with him as you like, Falchion, we’ll be back in a bit.”
Without another word she spun around and headed for the stairwell that had Mr. Popular perched in it like a statue. Mr. Popular looked quickly between her and the door, half expecting it to explode and guns blazing. To his relief as he followed her down the stairs, no such thing happened. He quickly regained composure after watching Entertainment sacrifice his bodyguard.
“What was that all about, Entertainment?” He said her name with such disdain, she just grinded her teeth. “And where are we going? We’re just going to leave Shikkon to that madman.” His voice was condescending and becoming frustrated. “No.” Was all that Entertainment said Mr. Popular as she gave him a nonchalant wave and continued out the front door of the apartment building.
The darkness in the second story apartment persisted, and Mickey could see very little inside. Instead he had the company of The Gate, who on and off again made himself visible. Mickey couldn’t decide if this kid was toying with him, in-experienced, or over confident in his own abilities.
The Gate began to grow impatient with waiting, and decided to make small talk with Mickey. It was an attempt to get to know Mickey better. To make a decision about him, despite the pressures of the situations that surrounded each of them.
“So, what do you like to do, besides spying on people with an overpriced peashooter?” The Gate smiled at his own wit, and knew he had the advantage over Mickey “The Quail”. Mickey turned his head slightly, hoping to catch a glimpse of this arrogant child, but was not appeased, “Excuse me?”
“You heard me, chummer. What do you like to do?” The Gate continued without addressing Mickey’s annoyance. “Now’s not the time, kid. I’ve got business to attend too. Unlike some of us, I’ve got a job.” Mickey was fishing for something, anything to use against The Gate. Despite his words, he was extremely suspicious of the child.
“Job?” The Gate laughed slightly, “I see, I wasn’t aware that getting yourself off on rooftops was an occupation.” Mickey becoming frustrated simply turned back to his observations, “Why else would I be up here? Not simply here for your enjoyment.”
“Well, I don’t know about that, Mickey. You are decently entertaining; besides, it’s my job to watch after you.” The Gate had stopped smiling and took full pleasure in the knowledge that his words held paranoid weight with Mickey. As for Mickey, he tried to focus on the happenings in the street, but felt a cold lump in his throat. The only thing that could discern life on the empty rooftop was a weighty sigh from the far corner.
Entertainment’s gait was an almost skip as she headed down the street. To the bewilderment of Mr. Popular she just continued away from where Shikkon had been abducted. He couldn’t help but wonder what she was up to, and if she really did have a plan for getting his bodyguard out of trouble.
“What are we doing?” Mr. Popular’s tone had changed and became friendlier. Entertainment glanced at Popular, wondering if friendly was an attitude he could actually carry beyond his arrogance. “We’re going to get supplies, ‘cause I don’t have anything for the party.” Entertainment began to smile something wicked. Mr. Popular continued as the rounded the street corner, “Supplies?! What kind of supplies?” His patience was ending.
“We obviously can’t take him on, when he’s holed up in his apartment. So, we’re going to smoke him out. While we’re at it we can do some neighborhood reconstruction, and get drunk.” Entertainment’s statement of the situation was so calm and jovial, that Mr. Popular did a double take of her. His thoughts ran around her, and the stability of her mentality. He had been no stranger to strange maneuvers or seemingly insane actions, but Entertainment seemed to live her life by some code of crazy. As they entered a small Stuffer Shack, Mr. Popular gave a little sigh.
“Might as well have a little fun in the face of death? It’s been a while since I really enjoyed myself,” Mr. Popular half narrated as he walked to a cooler full of alcohol. Entertainment let out a smile, “That’s the spirit you grumpy Jap.”
Entertainment continued her act by tearing apart the Stuffer Shack, and by drawing her pistol on the sole employee. The only employee who had the unfortunate luck of being the only person to work the graveyard shifts in this neighborhood. It had been fairly quiet for this store in the past year, but it was the Barrens and the occasional robbery would take place.
“Look lady, you can have whatever you want, they don’t care about me or the place. I’m just here to earn a pay..” His words were cut short by two rounds slamming into his body, in accurately vital spots. The store attendant let out a slight gasp, and fell to the floor. As he lay gasping for air and dying, Entertainment looked over the counter and spoke to him, “I don’t care, you made me, and I can’t have that happen. Now die.” With her final words she shot one final time into his head, and tore the rest of the store apart.
Mr. Popular just ignored her brutality, and bagged up a large amount of various beverages. Entertainment walked behind the counter and into the kitchen area. She cranked all the ovens to maximum, and headed for the door. As they left the store Entertainment grabbed several bottles of lighter fluid, and copious matches. Her final gesture was to toss a bottle of lighter fluid back into the store through the broken window. The bottle floated through the air, and with deadly precision Entertainment shot straight through it igniting a fiery explosion. The once sturdy Stuffer Shack fell to pieces and ran ablaze, covering any trace of Entertainment and Mr. Popular.
As they rounded the corner Mr. Popular let out a hearty laugh. “I haven’t done anything like this in years. You sure do know how to show a guy a good time.” Entertainment shot Mr. Popular a dirty look at his innuendo, but realizing it was unintentional she let it slide. “Yeah, you’ve got no idea.”
They reached the alleyway and set down the bag of drinks and each took one. Each of them downing a drink they discussed the simple formalities of their improvised plan. “I’ll cover the first floor, and why don’t you get the third. Once done, we’ll meet on the second, and set our plan into motion.” Mr. Popular was the one to suggest the most obvious of actions. Entertainment gave him a simple nod and said, “Then we can meet back here for some drinks,” She laughed a little at the absurdity of the idea. She finished a second drink, and began her climb to the roof.
Mr. Popular finished his second drink as Entertainment climbed onto to the roof, and disappeared out of sight. Taking a quick glance around, he climbed back through the first floor window. Popular picked himself up off the ground and brushed his clothes quickly before beginning to set about the task of covering the first floor in lighter fluid and various alcoholic liquids.
Entertainment quickly covered the entire third floor in lighter fluid and alcohol. Finishing with a swig of near empty soybeer, she climbed down to the second floor and moved into her stealth mode nearing the landing. She could barely make out a conversation between two men. It sounded to Entertainment that she could hear her Falchion talking to the other older Falchion. She moved closer to try to hear better, to make out clearly the voices coming from inside the older Falchion’s apartment. As she stepped off the final step, it gave a slight moan under her pressure, and the voices became loud and angry.
“Frag it all! You’re going to ruin everything!” Entertainment could clearly hear the younger Falchion scream out. “You are a young fool, and will pay the price!” The gruff voice of the other Falchion replied in angered response.
She could hear the shattering of glass, and wondered what was going on. Seconds melted as explosions ripped through the apartment wall knocking Entertainment back to the stairwell. She saw Mr. Popular stumbling up from the first floor as several more explosions rang throughout the building. After the dust settled Entertainment noticed several large holes along the hallway. A new hole had been opened up that now connected the second floor to the third and first floor.
The explosions from Falchion’s apartment, which was no longer blocked by a door, or a wall; had blown apart the apartment and finished the job that Entertainment and Mr. Popular had set out to do. They now stood looking at the interior of the apartment and the charred remains of what could have been a modest apartment. They made one quick scan and ran for the windows at the front of the apartment. Oddly enough the front wall of the apartment remained mostly intact.
The two runners made a feeble sweep through the apartment, while the rest of the building now blazed unabated. They found no physical remains of anything living, and ran to the window. Taking almost no time to prepare themselves, they leapt out the front of the building. Mr. Popular gave a little hop to the ground, upon landing he gave out a hard grunt as he could feel the pressure his legs were under. He wondered how the others moved through the air like they did and felt ashamed at his lack of skill. Entertainment took the opportunity to do a spiraling body flip out of the window landing like a gymnast pleased with her performance. No massive explosion provided an action backdrop for them, only the simple inferno that seemed content to consume the entire building.
Mr. Popular stood and glanced down the street toward where they had originally come from. He caught sight of a darkly covered figure running away from them carrying some large shape. He could barely make out the shape as a body and quickly drew his Predator. Barely aiming he fired several rounds at the not so mysterious character. The runner seemed to stumble from Mr. Popular’s perspective and he began chasing after the man he assumed was carrying an unconscious Shikkon Shin. Entertainment followed closely behind him, acting without question.
Mr. Popular rounded the corner with Entertainment in tow, and saw no sign of anyone. The assailant had vanished without a trace, and Mr. Popular’s thoughts began to turn dark. Entertainment had failed him, utterly and completely failed him, and now Shikkon was lost to the darkness of the shadows.
On cue, Mr. Popular’s phone began vibrating, and he saw that it was Falchion. Answering the phone, he received a less than warm response, “Where the frag are you two?! Everything went to drek and you two are nowhere to be found! Frag it, I’m taking Shikkon somewhere safe.” Their Falchion’s voice was short and full of panic. At least that’s what it sounded like to Mr. Popular. Before Falchion could hang up, Mr. Popular spoke soundly, “Take him to my place. It is discreet and he can hide and recover there as needed. It’s the Gendaiteki Panda downtown, and there is a back entrance you can use to get to my apartment. I trust someone of your skill will have no problems. We will meet you there.” Mr. Popular closed his phone after the final instructions, and without so much as a look at Entertainment dialed another number on his phone.
Relationships
