She was two minutes out from her insertion point and the weather couldn't have been worse. Incessant globules of rain pelted the cockpit of the VTOL she was riding while the erratic crosswinds buffeting the small aircraft had pushed Griff, her pilot, into a nervous sweat.
Griff ran a taxi service of sorts for the residents of the reclamation zone, his odd tilt-wing aircraft carrying everything from smugglers and high value cargoes to small groups on supply runs. All this was done on a strict no questions basis, so while Griff was something of a mystery figure, he knew even less about Domino or her reasons for hiring him.
Air traffic was heavy that night despite the storm and as Griff threaded the transport through the forest of neon bathed skyscrapers, Domino was grateful for the cover the other air-cars and helicopters provided.
A brief GPS alarm triggered and, with a nod of consent from Domino, Griff dropped the cargo hatch on the VTOL. Huddled in a stealth shroud poncho, she braced herself against the elements whipping through the opening, her hands clasping safety webbing rigged to the bulkhead.
Her optimal dive route blinked onto her heads up, a bright green wireframe transparency overlaid the rooftops flashing by below. They were approaching the edge of her window now, and as the 'Execute' prompt appeared in her optic feed, she pushed off from the sides of the hatch.
The city rushed up to meet her and even as she extended her limbs spread-eagled to control her descent, she was pulling the 'Gloop-gun' from her belt. A targeting reticule formed on her display, calibrating her aim for the landing zone. Angling her body into a sleek dive, she fired the gun, sending a large calibre shell speeding to the rooftop below. On impact, the shell's payload expanded into a large viscous ball and, a heart beat later, her dive thrust her into the jelly-like sphere with gut-wrenching force.
All the massive energy of her landing was dispersed throughout the reactive polymer gel, causing it to break down and free her from its grasp. It was a dangerous, rough-and-ready method for landing a low altitude drop, using technology originally designed for air-dropping fragile but inorganic cargoes. She had used it only twice before for rapid infiltration jobs and this time was no less painful.
She stayed low and moved quickly to survey the rooftops overlooking the alley behind the massage parlour. Domino located the snipers almost immediately, the long barrels of their rifles protruding from the shadowy perches they had chosen. Between them they would be able to monitor the meeting point effectively, one covering the other's blind spot. She switched her optics to perform a thermographic analysis, confirming that there were in fact two snipers and not just decoys. Seeing the warm colours of body heat behind the rifles, she toggled her vision back to normal and set off.
Domino suspected the snipers to be the Thai twins she had met earlier, leaving the Piranhas to protect Koralev on the ground. As she moved into position to ambush the snipers, she gained a clear view of the back door to the 37 Lotus. Sure enough, Koralev was stood there, clutching his briefcase and flanked by the bald headed Piranhas, the three men leering at one of the girls from the parlour.
The Thai twins were positioned effectively back-to-back, ten floors up from Koralev and his men. Domino estimated 25 metres between the twins. Working under the assumption that the group would be in contact via comms channel, she knew she would have to work quickly once she struck the first killing stroke.
She had manoeuvred from rooftop to rooftop in a series of impossible leaps, flips and drops until she was stood silently behind the twins. They had exchanged their cheongsams for figure hugging urban camouflage suits, bristling with extraneous weaponry. Domino could almost sense their twitchy anticipation of her arrival and she imagined they would be very happy indeed if the meeting were to turn sour.
The stealth shroud poncho she wore would make too much noise at close range, so she cast it aside and began stalking rapidly forward, moving lightly and silently on the balls of her feet. She closed in on the twin on the left, a kunai held ready, blade flat against her palm in a traditional throwing grip.
With a precise flick of her wrist, she sent the deadly projectile flying with unerring accuracy and, as it sank silently into the cranium of the twin on the right, Domino neatly snapped the neck of the remaining sniper. Certain of the two kills, she kept moving, launching herself off the edge of the rooftop in a graceful arc toward the alley below.
Koralev fingered the handle of his briefcase and wondered if perhaps it had been overkill bringing the Piranhas along. Granted, he was certain that 'Miko' was not what she seemed but it seemed unlikely that she would pose a threat to Jade and Peony. Well, he had not survived this long in a dangerous business by taking careless risks. No, the uncommonly vicious Piranha brothers were a necessary precaution.
Neither Jade or Peony had reported any sign of Miko, so Koralev returned his attention to the girl the brothers were drooling over. She was pretty, of course: all girls working this part of town were, but this one had a certain dark allure. Almond eyes regarded the three of them with a hint of amusement; she was used to this kind of attention and was not at all intimidated by the gruesome brothers.
Despite his best efforts to retain his composure, Koralev felt himself flush as she stepped calmly between his guards and pressed in close to him, her candy pink lips parted to whisper in his ear.
Her proposition was drowned out by the sound of Koralev's car being crumpled by some massive impact. He flinched into a crouch, throwing the joygirl aside as he whirled to see what had caused the damage to his precious American sedan. What he saw there just made no sense. He stared, dumbfounded, his brain unwilling to process the scene as a slender female form leapt nimbly from the wreckage of his car.
For a brief moment as he saw the long dark hair and form fitting body glove he thought it might be Jade or Peony but as the figure strode toward him, her face lifted from shadow and he recognised the truth of it.
Miko had arrived for their meeting not as a street smart netrunner but as an angel of death, her ruby eyes promising only one certainty. Her body suit seemed to swallow the light around her so that only the pale skin of her face kept her tethered to this plane. The joygirl, lying forgotten at Koralev's feet, screamed in confusion and terror before bolting inside the massage parlour.
The scream stirred Koralev's most base survival instincts and on impulse he raced to cower behind the nearest dumpster as the Piranhas advanced eagerly on the new arrival.
“What're you waiting for!? Kill her!” His voice sounded strained and manic to his own ears.
“Oh, we will. After we've had our fun,” one of them grunted.
Koralev watched as the Piranhas circled the girl, almost daring her to move as they flexed their fists, knuckles cracking, all the while gnashing those ghoulish teeth of theirs. She remained impassive, statuesque even, as they fired taunt after taunt, working themselves into a blood frenzy. He had seen them do this before and suddenly he was reminded of the brutal ferocity of these two and felt himself calm a little. They would take care of her. Maybe even leave a little something for him to enjoy afterwards...
One of the brothers closed on the girl and launched a crushing roundhouse punch to the side of her head. It was soon apparent that his attack never had a hope of connecting. She barely moved; just stepped lightly inside his reach, under his attack and out the other side, allowing his momentum to carry him past her. And had she jabbed her fingers into the soft hollow beneath his arm just then? Koralev wasn't certain: the move had been faster than anything he had witnessed before. He soon got his answer as the first Piranha to attack turned to stare dumbly at his brother.
“I... I can't feel my fockin' arm, Bradda.”
The other cackled at his brother's misfortune.
“Don't be ssso fockin' sssoft. It'sss a fockin' little girl. Watch me go.”
And with that he launched himself at her, ducking low at the last moment to lock her down in a grapple hold. She appeared completely unconcerned by his approach and remained perfectly still until he had committed to grabbing her. Mere inches away from his massive hands, she exploded into a series of back-steps, leading him beyond his centre of gravity so that his duck and grapple devolved into him stumbling flat onto his face. Now it was her turn to circle the Piranhas.
“Are you having your fun yet?” she smiled at them.
Koralev knew enough to recognise when the roles of predator and prey had been reversed. As he watched his bodyguards attempt to rally themselves, his hands fumbled with his briefcase, thumbs desperately trying to find the biometric locks.
She had closed in on the Piranhas now and launched into a blindingly fast sequence of attacks, one flowing seamlessly into the next, each seeming no more aggressive than a kitten toying with a ball of yarn and yet the brothers appeared to be recoiling from the pummelling assault of a heavyweight boxer.
One of them managed to break free of the macabre ballet and rushed headlong for the crate of firearms Koralev had brought. Without breaking the rhythm of her seemingly playful onslaught, the girl flicked something in his path and suddenly she was in two places at once.
The escaping Piranha was stopped cold by the near perfect doppelgänger and abandoned the weapons cache in favour of a panicked scramble away from the new threat. Koralev, having now managed to align his trembling thumbs with the bio-locks, recognised the artefact of a doppler grenade and felt the numb chill of fear in his stomach intensify.
As his briefcase clicked open, he saw that the real 'Miko' had ended her game with the entangled and exhausted Piranha, leaving his body in a rapidly widening pool of blood from some unseen wound.
The remaining Piranha was still desperately trying to dodge the phantom 'Miko', utterly unaware of his brother's demise and of the spectre descending on him, steel flashing in her hand. She had launched herself into the air in a protracted arc, her body spinning on its axis. Her wakizashi found his neck as she streamed past him and he knew no more.
Koralev heard himself giggle as his fingers closed around the grip of the machine pistol he had concealed in the case. Yes, this girl was fast but she had finished her dance with the Piranhas too late. He squeezed the trigger as her feet found the floor again, bullets shredding concrete as he corrected his aim. A hundred angry wasps swarmed for her, their fury unrelenting.
As the hammer fell on an empty chamber, Koralev realised he had blinked, realised he had emptied a full clip with that one squeeze of the trigger, realised that somehow he had been too slow, somehow the girl was now standing behind him. Something penetrated his skin, barely perceptible but most definitely there. He felt her breath, hot and sweet on his ear and the sensation rippled down the nape of his neck.
“I have pins in my hair,” she whispered. “One of them is now inside you. That's why you can't move. Well... not below the neck, anyway. You should still have a voice, though. I was careful.”
“Wh-wh-what the fu-”
“You have something I want. A little man in a burning warehouse full of interesting boxes told me you have it, told me your name. Your name has been on the streets for some time now and it is feared. I think that may be because you sell your wares to children and fill the slums with death.”
“No...no! That's not true I-I'm a legitimate-”
“You are a murderer by proxy. The floating city will not mourn your passing.”
Koralev felt something beyond panic, beyond fear swelling within him.
“Please... don't! Wh-whatever it is you want, you can have it, I swear.”
“I know. I already have it. Oh... that strange feeling in your head? It's not fear. I had another pin. This one increases the blood flow to your head in quite massive quantities. Soon the blood will have nowhere to go and so it'll pour from your nose, eyes and ears. Then you'll die from cerebral haemorrhaging.”
“I'm begging you... no!” Koralev managed to whimper.
“Don't be silly. I'm not a sadist. Just a little joke.”
Koralev watched her walk slowly around to face him, heel-to-toe, hands clasped behind her back like a shy child. She squatted by his case and pulled a cigarillo from its holder in the lid. Death smiled at him from behind perfect eyes as she offered it to him.
“Now... would you like one last smoke before I chop your head off?”
Copyright © A. Flood 2010
Copyright © A. Flood 2010
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