Well, after a year and two months, here's Chapter 2 of Cry of the Phoenix. Don't worry, I've already started working on Chapter 3, so it shouldn't be nearly so long in coming.
Any comments on this are appreciated, and if you haven't read the Prologue and Chapter 1, they were both reposted to FFML today.
Note : If you've not read the prologue and first chapter of this
story, it will probably make very little sense. If you need
them, feel free to e-mail me and I'll send them your way.
Second note : Yes, I have a NEW email address shown
below. The old one still works (in fact, I am using the old
one to post this), and will for a few days, but I will be
discontinuing that account soon (once I am convinced my
new DSL service is reliable).
Special thanks to my prereaders (Nick, Jeanne, Zen, and half the authors on the Revenge Wars project) for all the assistance with this. I couldn't do it without you.
Stormwalker <dreeves@speakeasy.org> presents . . .
2 January 2037
The Chief of Megatokyo's AD Police settled back in his chair
and tossed the assorted paperwork across his desk. It was far
too early in the morning for such things, he decided, and he did
not have the patience. Then again, he never really had the
patience for paperwork; he was meant to be out in the field--the
one place that his job would never let him go. Not anymore,
anyway.
Too much had changed in the last couple of years... or had
it been that long? Yes, he realized, remembering the date. Far
too much had changed. He had lost another partner, and other
friends besides. His own injuries, and the promotion, had
restricted him from field work. This job and the responsibilities
that went with it were an incredible strain. Hell, he realized,
he was even beginning to understand why Todoo had been the
crotchety old bastard he was sometimes... and he was barely half
the old man's age. Was that where he was headed, too? He rested
his forehead on his hand, unconsciously adjusting the strap on
the patch that concealed his missing left eye, and sighed.
The buzz of the intercom on his desk interrupted his
reflections. "Yeah, I'm here," he answered, trying to conceal
his irritation.
Ami, his receptionist, replied in her usual cheerful voice.
"Inspector Romanova is here to see you, sir."
Quickly he gathered the papers scattered across his desktop
and shuffled them into a neat stack in the corner. "All right,
send her in." In the old days, there would have been no such
notification, he remembered; any officer could walk into this
office almost any time. It had only taken one assassin boomer to
change all of that, though . . . three good officers and his own
predecessor had fallen that day. They never did figure out how
that boomer got through security, but it would never happen
again.
"Yes sir." The door opened to reveal his visitor; in
plainclothes, as she usually was, her choice of outfits indicated
that she had been undercover. The excessively short skirt and
leather boots, for example, were not her typically professional
attire, and the top was cut a little low . . . he tried not to
stare, wondering exactly when it was that this sight no longer
shocked him. 'Nene-chan' had changed as much as any of them, if
not more.
"Special Inspector Nene Romanova reporting, sir," she began,
bowing slightly (very slightly, probably due to the cut of her
outfit) as she entered.
"Hello, Nene," he greeted informally. "How are things going
down in Cybercrime?" Nene was ADP's head hacker-hunter now, as
of the day he had started comparing her computer schedules to the
hard copies he made, and noting the differences. She had taken
to the job with a vengeance, and seemed to venture into the field
increasingly often.
She grinned and produced a data cartridge from her handbag,
twirling it in her fingers before she set it on his desk. "You
tell me."
He leaned back in his chair again, eyebrows raised. "Is
that what I think it is?"
She nodded again, a hint of mischief creeping into her grin.
"The name of Miss Esteban's supplier, and enough evidence to
connect him to both incidents."
"I'm impressed," he admitted with a smile. "Think he'll
talk?"
"I think so," Nene answered. "Especially if you can arrange
that immunity for him; if he doesn't, well... we can put him away
for a long, long time. Hacking Boomer AI's... even just as an
accomplice, it could get ugly for him."
"True," he agreed. "Good work."
"Well, you ask the right questions of the right people..."
she shrugged. "They talk. Once I knew where to look, the rest
was easy."
"For you, maybe."
"Thank you," she smiled, recognizing the compliment, but her
smile twisted into an expression of disgust as she looked down at
herself. "Umm, if you don't mind, I'd like to go change into
some real clothes, and after I finish the report I'm going home."
"Of course," he answered with a nod. Had she been out all
night working on that? Probably so... it would not be the first
time. The door closed behind her as she departed, and he sat
staring at it for a few moments. Too many things, indeed, had
changed, and ADP Chief Leon McNichol was not the least of them.
****************
Cry of the Phoenix
A Bubblegum Crisis fanfiction by Douglas A. Reeves
Chapter Two - Transition
****************
<Ohhh... my head,> Priss thought groggily as she slowly
ascended to conscious thought. <Must've been some night... > For
a minute she lay there, unwilling to move against the throbbing
pain between her temples. Besides, the bed was so comfortable.
It was too comfortable, in fact. Opening her eyes suddenly,
she put up her hand to shield against the sunlight cascading from
the window on her left side. <Window? This bed... this isn't my
trailer. Where the hell am I?> Glancing first to her left, she
took in her unfamiliar surroundings. Off-white walls, expensive
furniture... it wasn't a hospital or jail, at least, but there
were still worse possibilities. She turned back to her right,
and froze; there, in a chair by the bed, an old, lost friend sat
reading silently.
Linna... Linna was alive... for a moment she stared, unable
to believe. Then, slowly, the previous night's memories came
back to her... how drunk had she been, that she could forget
that? Or maybe it was just too much to believe, even now.
"Linna...," she half-whispered, almost afraid to speak and
shatter the illusion. "You're... you're really alive."
"Yeah, I am," Linna responded softly, her tone almost ghost-
like as she looked up from her magazine.
"Damn..." Priss shook her head, her voice falling silent.
"I... it's so hard to believe."
Linna smiled wryly. "I could hit you again..."
"No, thanks," Priss answered quickly, rubbing her jaw where
Linna's backhand had struck her the previous night. "I'm
convinced. It just seems kinda unreal." Looking over at her
friend, she tried to read her expression. It was empty...
soulless. "C'mon, Linna. You're back... what's wrong?"
The dancer's gaze fell. "I... It's all gone, Priss.
Everything. Everything I had, everything I dreamed of... it's
all gone."
Priss sighed, searching for a way to answer that. "Yeah...
all but one thing. I'm still here. We're all still here."
Linna looked up, her expression hardening. "Yes... the
Knight Sabers. I can still get even. There is that."
Priss shook her head, still struggling to think clearly
against the pounding in her head. This was *wrong*, a voice in
the back of her mind insisted. Linna had always been unsinkable;
she always bounced back. <What did they *do* to her?>. Forcing
herself to meet that hollow gaze, she was adamant. "That's not
what I meant, Linna. You know that."
Linna inhaled deeply, then sighed. "I know, Priss. It's...
hard for me to think of anything else now." Pausing a moment,
she finally broke the locked gaze and whispered. "I'll be all
right. Just give me time."
Priss just nodded, unable to find the words. A few moments
passed in silence, then she shrugged. "So, do we have some sort
of plan? I mean, we all want to get things started again, but
where do we start?"
Linna shrugged. "Sylia hasn't said much about it yet... I
don't quite know what she has in mind. I think... I think that
it's going to take time though; it will be like beginning all
over again."
Priss shrugged. "Except that we already know how to do the
job."
"Do we?" Linna asked. "Things are different now... we'll
have to be different, too."
*****
In her databank room, Sylia stared silently at the
holographic image rotating before her critical eyes. The
hardsuit designs were woefully outdated; two years had brought
technological advances in weapons and armor design that would
have to be taken into consideration. It could still be done, she
decided, but it would take time.
Hardsuit redesign, though, was the least of the obstacles
the Knight Sabers faced if they were to resume operations.
Retraining would be necessary; it had taken only one glance at
Priss the night before to determine that. Furthermore, there
were other considerations. How badly had Linna's memory been
compromised? GENOM most likely knew their identities now; while
this was of little concern to Linna, and while Priss's identity
could be changed with relative ease, it would prove most
difficult for herself. Even worse, Nene's position at AD Police
was too valuable an asset to give up, though her visibility could
place her in considerable danger. She did not doubt that Nene
would be willing to face that, but perhaps there was some way to
reduce the risk.
At least she had maintained her contact network; she had
needed it during the past two years. Though the Knight Sabers
had been out of operation, the war with GENOM had been waged on
other fronts still. Now she would need them more than ever; no
longer could she afford to operate on questionable information.
She needed reliable intelligence, and could trust only a very
small few to provide it.
Closing her eyes, she mentally commanded the computer to
shut down the design program. That could wait a while... there
was other work to do first. Resting in the chair for a moment,
she finally allowed herself a slight smile. She had not dared to
believe that the Knight Sabers might rise again, and now it was
happening. The crusade would go on.
*****
Linna smiled a little as she glanced around the interior of
the coffee shop. This had been one of her favorite places in her
previous life, she remembered, and even after two years it was
one place, at least, which was largely the same. It was
peaceful, a haven of quiet in the midst of Megatokyo's clamor.
Subdued colors and simple, wooden furnishings granted it a very
personal atmosphere, and it was easy to relax there.
It was quiet... a quiet she desperately needed, soothing the
screams of her tortured soul. Gazing down into her coffee cup,
she decided this place suited her... an island of solitude aginst
the crushed masses of the megacity.
Raising her eyes, she wondered what her companion was
thinking. This was certainly not Priss's sort of establishment,
and yet even she seemed to be affected by it. Perhaps she needed
the quiet time as well, though Linna privately doubted that she
would admit to that.
***
Priss shifted uncomfortably in her chair. There was
something about this place that bothered her. The calm of it was
almost oppressive, like a wet blanket over fire, snuffing out the
aggressive spirit of this city. She couldn't help but think
here... think about herself, and what she'd been doing. Since
Linna died, she'd pretty much let herself waste away... and now
Linna was back, out of nowhere, and she found that she couldn't
quite be the person she was anymore.
Glancing down at her watch, she sighed. "Where's Nene,
anyway? She was supposed to be here already?"
"Bored already?" Linna asked, mildly teasing. "You know how
Nene's job is... it's hard to slip out early when you work in a
police station."
"Yeah," Priss mumbled. "But what does she *do* there that's
so important anyway? Push paper around and feed the computer?"
A slight smirk crossed Linna's features for a moment, then
faded, leaving Priss to wonder what was so amusing. "Why don't
you ask her?" Linna suggested.
Priss scowled... Linna knew something she didn't. "I
might," she finally answered.
"In fact," Linna said, her eyes moving to the door. "Here
she is now."
Priss turned around in her chair, glancing at the small
group that entered. "Where?" she asked... she saw a couple of
business people in their clone-like suits, two teenagers, and a
redheaded woman in black biker leathers. Her eyes flicked over
to the suits... no Nene there, then back, realizing that the
redhead was looking right at her. "Hell... Nene?" she gasped.
Nene had *changed*. She was taller, it seemed, though that
might be because of the motorcycle boots. She was slimmer as
well, though, with the black-and-red leathers hugging a much more
athletic body than she had boasted before. Fiery red hair freely
flowed halfway down her back now, and her once-emerald eyes had
darkened to something more like jade. Her movements were
confident, even graceful, and there was scarcely a hint of "cute"
anywhere about her.
As she approached, Nene smiled at them. "Sorry I'm late,"
she apologized. "Had to go back in and finish my report before I
could make it here."
"It's all right," Linna answered with a smile. "Did you get
some sleep after last night?"
Nene nodded. "Leon let me take the afternoon off, except
for that report. Looks like we're going to catch this one."
Priss looked back and forth between them, confused. "Um,
Nene... what are you talking about?"
Nene looked at Priss, then turned to Linna. "You didn't
tell her?"
"No..." Linna hid a smile. "I thought you would want to."
Nene shrugged, then grinned. "Ok... I'm in charge of ADP's
Cybercrime division now," she explained.
<What the hell?> Priss thought, hoping the shock didn't show
on her face. "You're joking, right?"
Nene shook her head, reaching into a pocket and pulling out
her badge. "Not at all," she answered, handing it to Priss.
Priss held it loosely in her hands, not quite believing her
eyes. "Maybe I'm still hallucinating," she said softly, with a
quick glance at Linna. Finally, she handed the badge back to
Nene. "That's... well, congratulations, I guess."
Nene nodded. "Thanks," she answered and put the badge away.
Priss shook her head. "This is a story I've got to hear...
but not now. It's... good to see you again, Nene."
"We were worried about you, you know," Nene pointed out.
"Sylia and I, I mean."
Priss nodded. "Yeah... sorry about that."
"It's ok," Nene answered, a hint of her old cheerfulness
surfacing. "This is a time for celebration, not for apologies."
Flashing a grin, she said, "So... now that we're all here,
what's up?"
***
Leon settled back into the seat as he punched the gas pedal
and accelerated up the entrance ramp. He had to admit, there
were a few nice things left about his job... and the "company
car" was hard to beat. Checking the mirrors, he merged into
traffic, settling in at an easy two or three kph over the limit.
Evidently, though, that was not enough for someone. No
sooner had he merged into traffic than a soft beeping sounded
from the car's scanner. Instinctively he glanced down at it;
two motorcycles, both better than forty kph over. Still, he
wasn't about to bother with that. He was chief of AD police;
and traffic enforcement was Highway Patrol's job.
Even then, the black blur that was one of the bikes caught
his eye as it rocketed past him. A long, flowing mane of red
hair trailed out behind; it was an all-too-familiar look, he
realized. Glancing down at the scanner again, he checked the
registration. Nene Romanova.
Reaching up over his head, he tapped a switch to deploy
the spoiler, then turned on the siren. He needed to have a
few words with one of his officers.
***
Priss felt a grin tugging at the corners of her mouth as
she opened the throttle up wide and shot onto the freeway. She
could barely see Nene from the corner of her eye, but to her
surprise the hacker-turned-biker was keeping up rather easily.
Glancing over her other shoulder, she deftly slipped into
traffic, moving toward the faster inside lanes.
It had been too long since she'd ridden like this, she
thought, savoring the feel of the wind whipping around her
body as she rocketed past a pair of trucks. This... this was
life. It was something she'd missed over the last two years.
Seeing Linna again had sparked something she thought was dead,
and while she might not be the person she'd been, she wasn't
about to let it die again.
Just then, as she and Nene passed a cluster of slower
traffic, an ADP interceptor moved into their lane, lights
blazing. For a moment, she thought about trying to outrun it,
but Nene was already pulling off to the side. Easing into
the left lane, she pulled off onto the shoulder, kicked down
the bike's stand, and trudged back a good hundred yards or so
to where Nene had stopped. So much for a good ride.
Nene shook her hair out as she pulled off her helmet, and
took a quick glance back at the police vehicle. "It's ADP,"
she said confidently. "I'll get us out of this one."
"You sure?" Priss asked uncertainly. Nene certainly
seemed sure of herself, but something told her it was not to
be that easy. She glanced back up the road at her own bike,
instinctively checking on it, and when she looked back toward
the police vehicle, it's occupant was already walking toward
them.
<There's something familiar about him,> Priss thought,
looking him over as he approached. He was tall, with a
moderate build, and he appeared to be in good shape except
that he favored his right leg a little when he walked. That,
and he had a patch over his left eye... "Nene," she asked.
Who is that? I feel like I know him."
Nene was silent for a moment. "Shimatta," she muttered,
then sighed. "Well, the good news is that *you're* not going
to get a ticket."
Priss blinked in confusion. "Why? What's with this guy?"
Nene shook her head quickly as the officer in question
approached. "Well, well, well, Nene," he greeted. "What
brings you out on the road this afternoon?"
For once, Nene looked positively sheepish. "I'm sorry,
sir. I was just out riding with a friend of mine when..."
The officer -- clearly one of Nene's superiors -- crossed
his arms. "Now, Nene... this is the third time you've been
pulled over in three months. You only get four of these, you
know."
Nene sighed, adopting her best innocent expression. "But...
you wouldn't fire me, would you?"
The officer looked resigned. "No, probably not. You'd just
hack the records anyway. Still..."
At this point, Priss had heard enough. "Third time, Nene?"
Just how wild had she *gotten*? "You mean, you've..."
Her words died as the policeman turned to stare at her. It
wasn't the lecherous sort of stare she was used to from her performing
days... no, it was a look of discovery, or perhaps rediscovery. He
seemed almost to gaze through her plexiglass visor, seeking the
mystery she kept hidden. "Priss?" he questioned. "Priss, is that
you?"
Only then did the voice register in her mind. It was a
voice she knew quite well, though the years had added something
to its tone. From there, other observations came together; his
dark, inscrutable eye, the rugged, chiseled angles of his face,
the power of his large frame. All of these, though broken and
scarred, remained... and in them, she found recognition.
Hesitantly removing her helmet, she shrugged, trying to appear
nonchalant. "Hey... Leon.
For a moment, there was no response, just the penetrating
gaze of that one eye. Finally, he nodded, and said simply, "So.
You're back." His tone, though, spoke of deeper meaning in his
words. "It's good to know."
"Yes, isn't it, though?" Nene interrupted cheerfully, casting a
meaningful glance at Priss. "Now I've just got to convince her to
get back up on stage!"
Leon smiled slighly, nodding his agreement. "Yes... just what
this town needs to liven things up a bit." Regarding Priss for a
few moments longer, he allowed his smile to grow a little. "If you
do decide to get back into the music business, let me know."
Priss nodded. "Yeah, sure," she answered quickly. recognizing
the implied suggestion. "I'll have Nene tell you."
"Right," Leon agreed. "Now, *Inspector* Romanova... about this
little indiscretion of yours... I might be inclined to let it pass
this time, because I'm in a good mood, but you need to be more
responsible..."
*****
Sylia smiled as she leaned back into her chair and watched the
holographic image of Nene and Priss spring to life in front of her.
Both were in their biker leathers, helmets in hand; evidently they
had just finished their ride. From the look on Nene's face, though,
she hadn't enjoyed it quite as much as she had planned.
"Hello, Nene," she greeted pleasantly. "Is something wrong?"
Nene shook her head a little. "Hello... not really wrong,
just..." She shuffled her feet nervously. "Well..."
Sylia waited a moment for an answer, but when it did not come,
she asked again. "Something obviously happened... what's wrong?"
Priss stepped forward a little. "Oh, Nene got pulled over for
speeding, that's all."
Sylia frowned slightly; there was something else... something
Nene clearly did not want to tell her. "I... see," she said evenly,
then allowed a little of her concern to bleed into her voice. "Is
that all, Nene... or is there some problem?"
Nene swallowed hard, and looked at the ground. Several
moments passed in silence, then finally she looked up. "Sylia...
it was Leon who pulled us over, and..." her voice caught in her
throat, and she paused before continuing. "Sylia... he knows."
Sylia let out a long, controlled breath, and nodded slowly.
Leaning over her control board, she checked the security on their
connection, then looked back up at Nene's image. "He knows...
about the Knight Sabers?" she asked with a measured calm.
Nene only nodded miserably.
"Well, that could have been unfortunate," Sylia answered
flatly, before allowing a slight smile to cross her lips.
"However... I knew that much already." Seeing the incredulous
look that flashed across Nene's face, she explained. "He found
out about Priss during the Largo incident. He learned about you,
Nene, after Dr. Miriam's raid on ADP headquarters."
"But... how did *you* know?" Nene asked, still somewhat
stunned.
Sylia's smile grew slightly. "Mr. McNichol is a very
important man; I would have been remiss if I had not been
keeping an eye on him for some time. In fact," she added
enigmatically, "I may have need of his cooperation in the near
future. So... now that this minor crisis has been dealt with,
is there anything else to report?"
Nene shook her head vehemently; evidently, Sylia
reflected, she had no desire to embarrass herself further. "No,
that's it," the ADP officer answered hastily.
Sylia nodded. "Then I'll see you at the usual time." A
quick tap of the disconnect switch ended the conversation. For
a moment, she allowed herself a satisfied smile, then descended
into thought as she considered the implications. Leon had known
for some time... but now he saw fit to let them see it.
Furthermore, he undoubtedly surmised that they would return to
action.
Yes, she decided... she might have need of him after all.
*****
Linna sighed deeply as she looked around the room that was
now hers. It definitely wasn't her old apartment, she reflected,
though Sylia had evidently taken some pains to acquire some of
her old personal items after her death, because many of them had
made it here. It was a nice gesture, she reflected, but it still
didn't change the truth of the matter.
Linna Yamazaki was, to all save the Knight Sabers, dead.
The things she had so long taken for granted... her dance, her
friends, her life... they were all gone now, never to be
recovered. As Sylia had cautioned her after she met with Priss
and Nene, it was very possible that the moment she stepped
outside the apartment she would be hunted, and while she refused
to cower inside all day, she could not afford to establish the
pattern a normal life would require. The Knight Sabers were her
job and her life now; there was nothing else for her.
Perhaps even worse was the news she had just received. The
testing Sylia had done on her nervous system had shown
considerable anomalies... there were sections of her brain that
had simply shut down. She was not so foolish as to believe that
the damage was accidental. <What did they do to me?> she
wondered fearfully. <Someone... said he would control me. What
were they trying... and what did they accomplish?>
Sylia believed that they... whoever "they" were, presumably
GENOM, had failed in their attempt to program her. Linna had to
agree... she had made it this far, after all. Still, she
wondered what damage they had done in the process. There were
moments she could not remember; her last days of life were among
them, and her first days after rebirth as well. Other moments...
things she knew she should remember, but could not.
She hung her head, fighting the urge toward despair. Her
solitude weighed heavily on her at times like these, and she could
feel the tears gathering in her eyes. Covering her face in her
hands, she cried...
*****
It was later that evening when Priss and Nene pulled up in
front of the old trailer that Priss still called home. She had
been forced to have it moved, which had only worsened its battered
state, but it was all she had left, and she wasn't letting it go.
Shutting down the bike, Priss slipped off and set the kickstand,
then turned to Nene. "Thanks for the ride," she said, taking off
her helmet. "I needed it."
Nene nodded and answered, "Yeah, I did, too. We're getting
ready to move in on the case I'm working on, and it's a big one."
Priss nodded, still unsure what to think of Nene's new
position... not to mention the day's other revelations. "Yeah,"
she answered noncommittally. A moment passed in uncomfortable
silence, then she added, "Well, I'll see you tomorrow."
Nene nodded. "See you then." The young ADP officer revved
up her bike, waved once, then took off down the street. Priss
stared after her for a long moment before finally pushing her own
bike into the trailer. Once it was inside, she slumped down in a
chair and sighed.
It was too much, she thought, to take on at once. Linna was
alive; that alone was hard enough to believe. She had almost come
to terms with that, though... almost. GENOM could do pretty much
anything they wanted, after all, and nobody knew what kind of
technology they had locked away inside that damned mountain they
called a Tower.
Still, just when she'd almost accepted Linna, there was
Nene's transformation to deal with. The Nene she'd known was
*gone*, the innocent, hyper-cute girl replaced by a hard-edged
knockout of a woman who hunted down cyber-terrorists for a
living. She'd known AD Police had taken a beating, but the change
in Nene defied explanation.
Then they had bumped into Leon, and suddenly the "new" Nene
made sense. No pick-up lines, no lecherous looks... Leon had
seemed old... aged far beyond his years. His one eye still burned
with the same intensity she had always seen there, but there was a
haunted look to it now--the pain of a two-year trip through Hell.
Where he'd lost the other eye she did not know, but his expression
told her he had faced far greater losses along the way. The brash
confidence in his voice was gone, replaced with a hardened edge.
The new chief of AD Police had stared down the demons she had
run from, and had the scars to prove it. The hint in his voice
had been unmistakable; he was asking her to come back... asking
the Knight Sabers to come back and fight... and this time she
couldn't say no.
She had been running too long already.
*****
Nene's fingers flew across the keypad, the eerie glow from
the two monitors playing oddly across her features in the darkness.
The data was scrolling by with alarming speed, far too quickly to
be read, but Nene was not reading it anyway, simply recording it
for later use. Her eyes were on a third display, which was logging
the reactions of the systems she had penetrated. So far, so good.
There was a pattern to this system... one she had seen
before. Keying in a seemingly endless stream of commands, she
deftly danced around its less-agile security. Her heart was
racing now as she rode the knife-edge, the adrenaline rush that
she savored now driving her on. While this was a relatively
simple run by her standards--these would-be cyber-terrorists had
nothing on GENOM in the security department--she had to be wary.
One misstep could blow the whole operation.
Finally, once she had obtained the clearance she was
seeking, she allowed herself a moment to glimpse at the main
screens. A few words caught her eye, and she redirected the
search to focus more deeply in that area. <Bingo!> she thought
with satisfaction as more of her keywords turned up.
Just then, the third machine beeped softly. It was a
sound she knew well; her status monitor was warning her that she
had been detected. Still, she would have at least thirty seconds
before she could be traced. Tapping in a few more commands, she
added an additional set of data to her logs, then began to back
out of the system, carefully closing her security holes behind
her. Time now was of the essence, but so was accuracy. Leaving
an open hole in the system was as good as being caught, and that
was something neither she nor ADP could afford.
Twenty seconds passed... twenty-five... twenty-eight...
suddenly, she she was out, and she quickly pulled the cord on
her link. Breathing a deep sigh, she popped the data cartridge
out of her machine and leaned back in her chair. She could feel
her heart pounding, gradually slowing to a more normal rate. She
had gotten away cleanly. Twirling the data cartridge between her
fingers, she allowed herself a smile. She'd gotten what she was
looking for, and she knew Leon would be pleased... though she
also knew what he'd say.
*****
"This is good information on Mr. Nagumo; it ties him to our
friend rather nicely. Still... how did you get it, Nene?" Leon
asked warily, already knowing the answer. This wasn't the first
time they'd had this discussion.
Nene smiled innocently. "Ask me no questions, I'll tell
you no lies."
"Illegally, in other words." Leon sighed. "You know we
won't be able to use that in a court of law." Adjusting the
strap on his eyepatch, he added. "Then again, you weren't
planning on it."
"Yeah," Nene answered with a smirk. "This is the same
information we're going to find when we bust him, though, and
we already had enough to get a warrant."
Leon nodded, scrutinizing her with his one eye. "So what
you're telling me is that you want to go get him now, before he
figures out he's been hacked and deletes all these records?"
"That's the idea," she agreed. "I needed to know what he
had before I went after him."
"I expected as much," Leon said, then smiled slightly
himself. "I got the warrant taken care of already; go get
him... but be careful. Call for backup if you think he'll
resist."
Nene smiled predatorily, a look that made Leon a little
nervous. "Of course." Turning sharply, she walked out.
*****
Stashing her motorcycle behind the old warehouse, Nene
crept around the building toward the side entrance. There had
been only one car in the parking lot, and as she suspected, an
electronic lock proved to be the only security. She needed
less than ten seconds to bypass it, and she was inside.
Once in, she slipped her gun from its shoulder-holster and
crept down the darkened hallway. From where the car had been
parked, she suspected that she would find him at the other end
of the building; even so, she was taking no chances. Silently
she slipped down the corridor, looking for light and listening
for movement.
<There,> she thought to herself, hearing the echo of
voices at the end of the hallway. They were in the warehouse's
storage area, a virtual maze of racks and abandoned equipment
that she could use for cover. Checking the crossing passageway
first, she stole across to the first row of racks.
They were nearby... probably just beyond the first row of
obstructions. Creeping a step at a time, she listened as she
closed in. Two voices... one Japanese--that would be Nagumo,
she thought--the other a gruff-voiced American. They were
arguing over having to move some equipment.
She reached the corner, glancing quickly at the two men.
They were occupied with each other... perfect. The American,
a tall, broad-shouldered thug with dark hair, was facing away
from her. Evidently the hired muscle, he had a gun, but she
could have him covered before he could possibly draw it.
Nagumo, on the other hand, was bent over his computer, and
unarmed. She glanced momentarily at her radio, then decided
she could handle it herself.
Drawing a deep breath, she steadied both hands on her gun
and stepped around the corner, levelling it at the American.
"Don't move!" she called out clearly. "AD Police!"
Both whirled sharply, the American starting to reach for
his gun, then stopping as he saw hers pointed straight at him.
"Hands up!" she insisted, moving closer. Turn back around."
Carefully, she stepped closer to the two of them, her left hand
taking a pair of handcuffs from her belt while her right held
the gun on them. "Ok now... take the gun, nice and easy, and
set it on the floor. Then step away from it."
The American complied, and she was about to reach for the
weapon when she heard a single footstep behind her. Driven by
instinct and panic, she whirled and dove to her left for cover
as the gunshots rang out, but it was too late.
Pain like fire shot through her left thigh as flesh gave
way to hot metal, the bullet tearing through the muscles of
her leg. Time seemed to slow as she arced through the air,
bringing her own gun around to fire at her assailant. The
shots' report echoed loudly, and he reeled, struck in the
chest. She saw him falling, then her view was obscured as
she crashed to the floor behind a stack of crates.
The shock of impact on her wounded leg stunned her
momentarily, and she was barely able to drag herself the
rest of the way behind cover. She glanced around in time to
see the first thug reclaim his weapon, and ducked back as
he fired two shots at her.
"Damn," she whispered, trying to drag herself to her
feet. If she couldn't stand, she was done for... but her
leg simply wouldn't support the weight. She looked down
at it, then tore her eyes away from the sight; a pool of
blood was rapidly forming there... she didn't have long.
<Don't panic,> she repeated to herself. <You panic, you
die.>
<Backup,> she thought belatedly. <I should have
called.> She fumbled for her radio as she heard the
footsteps getting closer, and activated the emergency
beacon, but by the time help could arrive it would be far
too late for her. She gritted her teeth against the pain
and leaned against the crates she was using for cover.
<Only one shot at this.> The gunman was just around the
corner now; gripping her gun tightly, she prepared to make
one last attempt to escape.
Just then, a gunshot echoed through the chamber, and
the thug fell to the ground in front of her, dead.
Panicking, she tried to scramble backward, a spike of pain
shooting through her leg. Instinctively, she clutched at
her thigh, her gun falling to the floor forgotten. She
could hear new footsteps... they were heavy, booted feet.
Whispering a silent prayer that the newcomer was a friend,
she looked up to see a uniformed ADP officer.
Overcome with relief, Nene let out a long, deep sigh.
Then, as the panic subsided, her vision blurred and gave
way to blackness.
----------------
End Chapter Two