Reason to Live
Prologue: The Only Boy
April 7th,
Disclosed Location, Rome,
1200 hrs
"Alright, you all know what you're supposed to do. Hillshire, send me your sit-rep."
"Everything's under control" Replies Hillshire while looking up towards the 14 year old girl scaling the wall "I've sent Triela up the window."
"Good. Rico, get into position."
"Yes sir."
The Social Welfare Agency, an agency created to promote projects supporting the physically challenged under the auspices of the Prime Minister's Office in Rome.
"José, how's yours?"
"We've cleared the 1st floor; a dozen Padania, but no sign of our designated terrorist." Said José
"Alright; Koch, situation report?"
Actually, the Agency gathers physically challenged people from all over the world and modifies them into cyborgs; using them to do the Government's dirty work.
"We're moving up the second floor." Said the 36 year old German by the name Koch, turning his attention towards me "Frederick, this is your first action. So don't screw up!"
And I'm one of them. My name is Frederick, the only male junior operative working under the Social Welfare Agency…
March 5th,
Piazza di Spagna,
1531 hrs
(Henrietta's P.O.V)
It was a faithful morning in Piazza di Spagna after another day killing a bunch of terrorists. Well, it is one heavy job with lots of burden on it, but we're used to it. My name's Henrietta Cloche, ten years old. I've been working under the Social Welfare Agency under José Cloche, my handler. We're called 'Fratello' or brothers as it is called in Italian. Basically, we were government assassins; I am for the most part. Our family names were the same, but we're not actually siblings. I was…lets say 'adopted' by José after an incident that occurred to me which I don't know what and I can't even recall. But for the most part of it, I am a cyborg, designed by the Agency to do their biddings or as they say, 'Government's dirty works'. But that's not why I'm here…
It was this morning that the incident occurred; the incident which was called 'Piazza di Spagna Massacre' by the press and the news world wide; the incident that causes him to join the ranks of the agency. We never expected this, or even think that the Padanias are crazy enough to do so. But even so, we were cautious enough to carry firearms with us; usually concealed carefully such as my AMATI violin instrument case. None the less, they did attack in the tourist trap...
Gunfire rages on as they appeared over the distance, armed and ready. We didn't know how they managed to uncover our identity; besides, we looked like ordinary civilians if we were walking casually outside. With José's quick reaction and quick response, we took cover behind an automobile as the group of terrorists known as the Five Republics Faction, Padania Republic Faction, or for short, Padanias engaged us in a fierce firefight taking lives of innocent one by one. The crowd panics, and soon the area turned into chaos. José equips his weapon and orders me to immediately return fire as he tries to contact Jean, his brother and Rico's handler. This should've been a simple task as my FN P90 could mow them down in seconds. However, due to the large amount of civilians in the area it became difficult as some of my shots killed or wounded the innocents instead.
They advanced slowly, using anything for cover. We knew we couldn't stop them in time before they get to our range and kill us point blank. However, we knew that Jean is nearby with Rico, prepping them to assist us. José himself has also contacted one of the other handlers around, which is Hillshire, for help. It didn't take long before we heard an echoing gunshot from the distance. Yes…it's the echoing sound from an SVD Dragunov fired by 12 year old French that goes by the name Rico. Did I mention it's a she? Despite the name his handler had given, Rico's a girl. She's the best marksman you can find from all around the agency! Although, Jean's rather rough treatment is sometimes over the line.
Rico fired her shots; three more shots. From afar, I can see the large group of infidels that strikes us began decrease in number; but not in morale. Soon, they began tossing grenades across from their cover towards us. None of them landed near to us or close to us and instead, explodes near civilians who's either wounded earlier, or still running around like chickens as they try to dodge fires from both side and is proved vain. Casualty starts piling up as more and more died in the scene. It has to stop somehow!
…That's when our oldest sister came to play
Her name is Triela, 14 year old, and is German; originated from Germany. Her handler is Hillshire, is once part of the Europol; as what José told me once. Her handler hangs around with my handler often, so it's not too much of a surprise. Besides, both of them do agree not to use conditioning too much on us. The radio rings soon after, telling José that Hillshire and Triela are circling the piazza to clear the remaining Padania terrorists and end this madness. We hold our ground and soon after, heavy fire from shotguns echoes through the Piazza di Spagna before everything turns silent…
"Damn…look at what we have now…what a mess." Said my handler as he stood up from his position and walks towards the center of the are while avoiding the bodies with me following close behind
"This is our first time being caught in a firefight involving civilians," Said Hillshire as he walked slowly, avoiding the bodies as Triela look around for another ambush. Jean and Rico arrived in the scene moments later. Jean stated that the press has been bribed and will kept this incident a secret.
I, in the meantime were looking around when I finally noticed something moving…
"José! José!" I called out to him "Come take a look! We got a survivor!"
They're attention is quickly diverted to what I found as they quickly gather around. I pointed towards a 15 year old, brown haired, German boy with dark blue eyes. His condition is terrible; no near 'ok'. Due to the fight and the grenades, he lost his left limb while his right arm is shattered. He's in a total mess. The boy, still conscious, looks up to as and tries hard to speak. José stops him however, saying that it will just waste his strength.
"Töten…töten mich…"
Most of us didn't understand what he's trying to say. Most of us didn't speak German! Only two people in the group managed to understand what he's trying to say. Yes, those two were no other than Hillshire and Triela Fratello team. They nod, understanding what he's saying. And so I ask Triela what he's saying…
"He said he wants us to kill him. Probably can't stand the pain" She answered while looking at the boy with grief "Should we?"
"I don't think so," Answer José "Hillshire, you said earlier that a new handler's coming."
As though he didn't understood what José meant, Hillshire raises his eyebrow hearing his remarks.
"Yes, I did. A 36 year old ex-German infantryman; resigned from the Bundeswehr after he failed to rescue his family in a Berlin incident two months ago. That involved a number of civilian casualties as well; due to the random terrorist attack. Why?"
"Did he qualify? Accepted by the agency?" It was then after José's question Hillshire understood what José's thinking…
"You sure they'll let us take him? Besides, it's his decision of whom he'll pick."
However, José ignores Hillshire's remarks. Instead, he picks up his radio and calls Ferro, asking for a medical crew. We understand how José is. Caring, and maybe trying to help this boy and help him get a better life. Information about him soon came after Triela finished examining his coat and pockets and found his passport, along with his I.D. card. Handing the passport and I.D. to Hillshire, he skims through it before handing it over to José. However, José has a different reaction than Hillshire as he chuckles after reading the identification.
"What's so funny?" ask Hillshire
"His name is Hans Miltz, age 15." Then he let out another chuckle "We'll see if he picks this kid."
As we left the scene of the area, I couldn't help thinking that…this unfortunate boy will become one of us one day. The last thing I saw that day is an ambulance, carrying the boy to Rome's National Hospital. We never heard anything about the boy since…until he eventually become part of our lives.