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
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
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.
-BIO-
Name:
Ryouta “Shikkon Shin” Nakamura
Height: 6’5 ft. (195.58 cm)
Weight: 230 (looks)/265 (actual) lb. (104.54 (looks)/120.45 (actual)
kg)
Age:
30
Likes:
Ikabana, dramatic movies, and Troll thrasher bands
Dislikes:
Impolite people, politics, and Tir Tairngire
Archtype: Street Samurai/Ninja
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Editor's Note: Shikkon Shin was initially created by Jason Green, with revision and editing done by this blog's author Benjamin Weisman.
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