A Man, Pure of Heart
It wasn't as if he was exactly surprised by this turn of events. He was clever enough, and reasonable enough, to view this outcome as a possibility. Out of the several paths he envisioned their relationship (such as it was) taking, this certainly fulfilled the requirements of at least three. So he wasn't bitter, truly. Still, there's something about a woman you trusted with your life trying to shoot you in the head that just leaves a rancid taste in your mouth.
"How long do you think you can keep this up, Akane?" Kougami shouted from his cover behind the lightning struck tree. He threw his voice – a talent he had picked up while traversing the Deccan – even as he listened for the rustling that would signal her next move. She'd gotten better since they last crossed, he would give her that. She was always a fast learner.
Tsunemori Akane's response came in a green-blue blast from a Dominator. Kougami narrowed his eyes, trying to find the point of impact. He couldn't tell whether it was set to Lethal Eliminator or Stun. Hard as it was to imagine her trying to kill him, he couldn't picture the Sibyl System letting him slip past its clutches a third time. When the next blast went off by his ear, he rolled, gun in hand.
"C'mon, Tsunemori!" he yelled, as he jogged, low to the ground. He could hear her movement – a few paces, a yard? – away to his right. Too close for him to try and outrun her without giving her a chance to nail him in the back. "You only got two choices here – hit me, or let me go." The same two she'd had in Shamballa. "Commit to one!"
There was a pause, a heart beat's space of time that seemed longer to Kougami, where he wondered if she might shout back to him. It was split by another shrieking blast from the Dominator. This one forced him to leap out of range, tumbling through thorns that tore angry red welts into his skin. He managed to find his footing again, bringing up his gun instinctively. He pivoted, with only the goal of finding his bearings. Through a Y-shaped trunk of an oak tree, he found himself training his weapon on Akane.
She had her Dominator out before her, but it hovered just below the sightline needed to fire. Her short hair clung to her neck, slicked down with sweat, and her flak jacket appeared two sizes too big for her small body. But Kougami wasn't fooled. There was steel evident in every inch of her lithe frame, and her movements were cautious but sure. Her eyes darted around rapidly, not in fear, but in search of prey.
Kougami let out a long breath, tightening his grip on the pistol. From this distance, he had a very good likelihood of hitting his target. He was a crack shot, and even Akane's slim form was wide enough for his purposes. He focused on her chest. She was protected. Even if he hit her, she would more than probably survive. He only needed a single solid shot, one to knock her out. He could even run up and check that she was alive once he'd done it, before he fled. There was no need to kill her.
He strengthened his grip, readying for the recoil. She moved to the left, and he readjusted. No problem. She was still an easy shot. Barely moving, still trying to find him. He wondered how she could miss his presence. Whenever he was about to be fired upon, he felt it in his shoulders, the sixth sense that comes to the hunted. He guessed that she had never had to cultivate it.
She took another step. He pivoted again. Still possible. Still doable. Nothing in his way. Her side was to him now, but he could aim for her back. He winced, and his hands shook. He re-steadied them, narrowed and widened his eyes. One shot. Clean. Maybe a bruised rib, but no broken bones. She'll be fine.
She was moving now, further away, into the trees. He tried to adjust, but found the metal too slick in his hands. Ah. He was sweating. Well, of course he was. Exertion. This was a battle. A fire-fight. He raised the pistol again, and Tsunemori wavered in his view. The pistol wouldn't still. He barely suppressed a growl. C'mon. Just one shot. Before it's too late. No harm, no foul.
No use. She used his indecision to jog off into the woods, and he lowered the pistol in mingled fear, shame, and relief. It wouldn't have mattered if he had stayed. He would never have made the shot, he realized, as he looked down at his hands, leaning back against the tree. They shook – slight tremors, but they were unmistakable. They had been there all along. He would have gone wide, or…he would have gone wide.
He should have been using the time to move. His mind raced on ahead of him – to the troupe waiting for him, to the mission they had. Months in the planning, and now streaming towards conclusion. An inevitable end to the unavoidable battle with the Sibyl System. Freedom versus Control. True justice versus its facsimile. Ideals versus empty shells. He was still reminding himself of the need to move when he felt her come up beside him. Mere feet away, and he could feel her heat like she radiated with fever. Maybe she did. Maybe he did, and that was why he couldn't move, save to turn his head.
Her hands didn't shake. The Dominator that stared him down extended from her arm, ramrod straight. He wouldn't have had time to dodge the hit, even if he had reacted. This he assured himself of. "Well?" he asked her, raising up his cobalt eyes to meet her brown ones. There were more golden flecks in them than he remembered; like a hawk's. "You know what you have to do."
He wasn't sure if his message was being relayed to the Sibyl System – he assumed so, with the presence of the Dominator. But she was the one to pull the trigger. That was what mattered.
