The front desk worker sat around at his desk, flipping a coin. He checked
the time, and was surprised to find that it was as late as 11:30. He
yawned, stretched a little, and then looked around the expansive lobby.
It was a very well decorated lobby, filled with plants, couches and paintings. A few pillars dotted the lobby, not for actual support, but to add that little bit of extra flair to the building. The walls were a plain cream, the floor carpeted with a cream, darker then that of the walls. The front doors were automatic-sliding glass, and outside it was black, the only light emanating from the lights above them.
He glanced over at the two security guards, each one guarding a different door. The one on the left went to the first floor offices, the right one on the right was an elevator. He nodded at each of the guards in turn, who in reply tilted their hats.
The building was a company headquarters- most of the floors offices, the very top few belonging to the CEO and his crew. The oddest thing about his work was that, even as a lobby worker, he didn't know what the company did. All he thought was that 'Kyuukoku' was a terrible name for a business, especially an America-based one, as most people would be scared of even pronouncing the name itself.
He was startled when the front doors slid open- the place usually only received visitors during the day, and it was nearly closing time. The security guards were also un-nerved by the late visit, and put their hands on their guns. Why the company stayed open until midnight, the worker didn't know.
The doors slid open all the way, and a black man came in, carrying a brown suitcase and wearing a long, dark coat. His face was grim, and he seemed to be quite plump, as his coat was bulging in places. His eyes darted from straight ahead over to the security guards, and then returned to the worker.
The man reached the front desk, and the worker started the usual talk. "Welcome to Kyuukoku Enterprises, sir, how may I help you?"
The man in black, as if reading from a script, replied, "Yes, I'm here to see Mr. Ashmore."
The worker thought about this. Usually people never asked to see the CEO, they just came to the desk, stated their business and went to the elevator. But they always seemed to start bringing out their invitations before they even reached the desk.
"Something wrong?"
Hearing the African-American man speak startled the worker, as he had been lost in his train of thought. He replied, jokingly, "Sorry, people don't often come in here at this time of night."
The man shrugged and said, "Guess I'm the first. Mind if I go up now?"
The worker answered in a serious tone, "May I see some identification, and your invitation?" The African-American cautiously reached into the briefcase and pulled out some papers. "I'm sure everything you need is there."
The worker ruffled through the papers, and replied, "Sir, these appear to be papers belonging to a paper on Environmental Education..."
The man in the coat sighed and said, "Fuck this charade." He then threw the briefcase aside and whipped of his coat to reveal a shotgun strapped to his chest and a handgun in a holster on his waist. He was wearing one of those vests the SWAT always wore, and he had various shells and ammunition clips on the afore mentioned vest.
It was about now when all hell broke loose.
The man pulled the shotgun off his chest and flicked it in his hands, smashing the worker across the face, erasing his facial features and replacing them one large wound, the latter falling to the ground with a thud. The man then fired a round off at the elevator guard, who promptly had more holes in him then a cheese grater, then dived over the lobby desk to avoid a bullet from the security guard on the left. The man then let off a shot at the office guard, all the pellets missing, except for one that punctured the guards' shoulder.
The guard fell to his knees, his gun hand pressed against the wound. The shotgun-man then passed the shotgun to his left hand, then with his right hand pulled out his pistol and fired, blowing a chunk out of the back of the guards head, spraying the wall with a pink pigmentation. He had the disgusting thought that those might be his brains.
The man put his pistol away, then put on a wireless headset and tapped the right earpiece. He spoke the word, "Shogun." Immediately a male Japanese voice came in over the headset, speaking, "Yes, Bushido, may I help?"
"I need Sanzoku right now."
"Why?"
"Just cleaned up some guards, need some backup for going any further into the building."
"I see. I'll get him to ride Bokudou in as soon as possible."
"Good..."
The man, now identified as Bushido, looked down at the lobby worker, who was groaning in pain. The worker then rolled over, and straight onto...
The alarm.
Bushido, wide-eyed, said, "Fuck."
Shogun asked, "What?"
"GET THOSE TWO HERE RIGHT NOW!"
-- -- --
Two minutes later, the elevator pinged and out poured a dozen or more heavily armed men, each carrying a SigPro 9mm Handguns and wearing a Kevlar vest. They scoped the lobby out, and saw nothing suspicious, apart from the dead security guards.
Two of the men began to walk over to the desk, their weapons raised and ready to fire. They aimed over the edge and found nothing. The body of the desk clerk had an entry wound between his eyes, and there was no sign of the intruder.
"Where the fuck could he have gone to," asked one guard.
"He can't have left, the doors are locked," replied the other.
"And the glass is still intact?"
"Seems to be."
Spoke to soon. Just then a motorcycle smashed through the front doors, sending shards of glass everywhere. There were two men on the bike- one driving, the other holding on for his dear life, gripped to his partner's stomach, trying not to be pulled back by the speed.
The bike landed on the ground and screeched to a halt parallel to the stunned guards. The driver reached into a bag on the side of the bike and pulled out a G11 assault rifle. The passenger pulled two Colt Pythons from one of the two pairs of holsters he had on his belt. They both aimed.
That weapon he was carrying –the G11, was like nothing the guards had seen before; the rifle didn't have Magazines, since all the Cartridges were pre- loaded into the chamber, producing a smoother, deadlier action.
The guards never stood a chance.
As soon as the driver opened fire with his rifle, the passenger did a side leap towards the nearest pillar, pumping out shot after shot from his revolvers. Three guards fell to the floor dead instantly, another two clutched wounds and did as the rest of the group were doing- getting into cover fast.
Bushido, hidden until now, darted out from behind a pillar on the right- hand side of the room, shotgun in his right hand, pistol in the left. He blasted out with both of the weapons, taking out a guard who was making a last-ditch effort to become a hero, by charging the motorcycle driver, his finger firmly on the trigger.
In an interesting event, the afore-mentioned guard, after having the left side of his head blown into steaming chunks of gore, span around from the hit. His finger was still on the trigger, however, and he raked a stream of bullets across the positions of his fellow guards. Several fell to the ground, the bullets having hit the unprotected parts of their body, namely the arms, legs and crotches.
The passenger ducked out from his pillar, running in a zigzag pattern towards a pair of guards who had paired up in the defence, whilst firing with his revolvers. The passenger then rolled into a somersault, and opened fire by the corpses of the previously mentioned team guards. The passenger, having run out of ammunition in his Colt Pythons, switched to the pistols in his other holsters- a pair of Beretta M93Fs. The switch only lasted a few seconds, and then he returned to finishing off the remaining guards, with a storm of 9mm bullets.
-- -- --
The slaughter lasted about two minutes. The three men, with their apparent expertise, had killed all twelve of the guards. None of the three had been hit once.
The driver looked around, then got off his motorcycle and began inspecting it for damage. Emblazoned on the side of the bike was the model- a Kawasaki Ninja. The bike was pure black; the exposed metal had even been de-shined. Still, if he hadn't chipped a lot of the paint by riding through the glass, it would've been a beautiful machine.
The driver was wearing a dark green motorcyclists suit, and a helmet of a similar colour was on his head. He pulled off the helmet, showing his face and hair. The hair was brown, with streaks of blonde throughout. He was wearing a pair of black sunglasses that were narrow and wrapped around the sides of his eyes. On the back of his neck was a phrase written in kanji.
However, the driver was white, and his heritage was shown by his next words, spoken in an Australian accent, "I thought I told you not to call me in unless it was absolutely necessary!"
Bushido responded by saying, "Oh yeah, Sanzoku, I'm sure I could've taken those guards by myself."
The driver, now known as Sanzoku, replied, "You could've just asked for Bokudou!"
"But I needed your specific skills!"
"I'm the fucking sniper of the Kage, alright?! Not some fucking assault shooter! My bike can't handle this sort of shit!"
The passenger, leaning against a pillar, kept silent while Bushido and Sanzoku kept arguing over the matter. He was reloading his pistols, taking care with each and every bullet. He brushed his shoulder-length dark-brown hair out of his eyes and kept on loading.
He was wearing a white tank top and a pair of black jeans. The jeans had two belts looped around it, both of which had holsters on either side. His actions were focussed on getting his weapons reloaded quickly, but his eyes were a different story. They were inky-black, and moved quickly, checking his surroundings.
"Bokudou!"
This got the passengers attention. He looked over at Bushido, who had said his name, and Bushido asked, "What do you think we should do with Sanzoku here?"
Sanzoku looked over at Bokudou and said, "Tell him I'll do what ever I fucking well want to!"
Bokudou got up from against the pillar, walked over to Sanzoku and said to both of the others, "I think that Sanzoku should not have to ride his bike directly into the combat situation."
Sanzoku smiled smugly and looked over at Bushido.
"After all," continued Bokudou, "if we keep hurting that bike, it might not purr so much when Sanzoku jams his dick up its tailpipe."
Bushido burst out laughing, and Sanzoku swung a punch at Bokudou, who deftly caught it. "Now now," said Bokudou, "there will be no violence in front of your girlfriend."
Bushido kept on laughing, wiping a tear from his eye. Sanzoku was about to yell at Bokudou when their headsets beeped. They all put theirs on, and the familiar voice of Shogun came over.
"Report, boys."
Bokudou explained what had happened, then asked what they should do now.
Shogun replied, "Proceed with the operation as normal. Kunoichi is about to enter the mansion, and we need you to keep the police distracted. Not that they will ignore your little slaughter. Until further notice, Bushido and Bokudou are to remain in the lobby. Sanzoku, however, is to return to his designated sniper position. Shogun out."
The three men pulled off the mini-headsets. There was a moment of silence before Sanzoku broke it by asking, "Uh, just checking up on why you need to distract the entire police force."
Bushido smacked Sanzoku on the head and responded, "Didn't you pay attention at the briefing?!"
"Uh, funny story about that. I was thinking about my bike, and whether or not to get a custom detail job for it after the next payment."
Bokudou jokingly said, "So you're going to pretty up your girlfriend, huh. Saying that really does make us think your love for that bike goes further then just a platonic relationship."
"Shut up!"
Bushido held back his laughter and gave Sanzoku a real answer. "The reason we're here, distracting the police, is so that Kunoichi can assassinate the Governor easily."
"And why does she need to kill that guy?"
"Because that guy is going to give a speech tomorrow. A speech where he is going to explain what the fuck happened last month, alright? When that huge thing crashed into Manhattan? He's going to explain everything."
"Oh... why does Shogun want to kill that guy?"
"If Shogun had a choice, I doubt he would want to kill that man. But the Yakuza have his balls in a vice grip, so we do the job."
"Ah. Gotcha. But wait, Kunoichi? She might get hurt in this mission!"
Bokudou chirped in, "Does your bike know you're interested in other women?"
"Shut up, damnit! I am leaving back to my sniper point now, and I hope you two dicks get killed by the NYPD!"
Sanzoku then held the G11 in a standard shooting position and blasted out the rest of the glass in the doors. He walked over to his bike, pulled a saddlebag off of it and dropped it to the ground. "Extra ammunition for you two fuckers. Maybe you can cause some damage before you die."
Sanzoku then got on his bike and rode through the smashed doors, leaving Bokudou and Bushido behind. Bushido said, "Bike fucker."
Both he and Bokudou grinned, then walked over and grabbed the ammunition in the bag.
-- -- --
A dark shadow passed over the outer wall of the governor's house. It was pitch black, and the only sound in the air was the rustling of leafs from a large oak tree, which was located right next to the wall.
There were five security guards patrolling the front garden, and another five at the back, all clear despite of the greenish aura of the Night Vision Goggles. Security was tight on this evening, although the security did not know why. All the governor was doing tomorrow was giving a speech, not of any real importance to them. But they were getting paid, so they didn't mind.
Jackson was one such guard, and he was positioned near the oak tree. He closed his eyes and yawned- most people usually do at midnight. He looked around, making sure his fellow guards were still at their posts. Dagget was still at his point near the driveway, and Mathers was still by the patio, having a smoke.
It was then Jackson looked over at the tree, and noticed a glinting from beneath it. He hadn't noticed it before- but then again, it might just have been that his tiredness has been affecting his senses. He shrugged and walked over, forgetting to radio in that he was changing position.
As soon as he reached the base of the tree, he saw that the glinting object was just a piece of mirror, reflecting light from behind him. He sighed, turned and got ready to return back to his position.
He was pulled up by the neck and into the tree, his breath choked out of him by the arm wrapped around his neck. He tried to scream, but instead he felt the darkness come over him and he died, a thin knife wound slicing open his throat.
As quickly as the wound had been delivered, a thick bandage was applied to the wound, and the lifeless corpse of Jackson was soon tied to the trunk of the tree. No blood had hit the ground, and there was no evidence that he had even been over to the tree.
The end of a pistol silencer was seen for a few seconds outside the shadows of the tree, before it was pulled back after firing a shot that blew a hole into the head of Dagget. The bullet, of the new calibre 5.7 x 28mm Belgian, was armour piercing, thus making the hole in the cranium was easy.
Mathers hadn't noticed any of this happening, so it came as quite a shock when his throat suddenly had a hole in it.
A few minutes later, all three of the guards' corpses were tied to the tree. The shadow killer stepped into the light for a couple of seconds, and it was clearly seen what it was.
The slender curves seen through the form-fitting black body suit showed that the person was a woman, although there was no evidence of that in her face. That part of her body had a mask on it, a blood red lacquered one that showed no part of her face. A ponytail poked out of the back of the mask, and she moved with the skill and grace of a cat.
Strapped to her back was a ninja-to, the hilt protruding over her left shoulder, and parallel to her hips was a smaller companion blade, a wakizashi. The pistol she had used to kill the three guards was shown to be a suppressed Five-seveN with laser sight was strapped to the outside of her thigh.
Such skill, grace and weapons could only belong to one type of assassin, a Kunoichi.
And so, Kunoichi left the light and began to climb the walls of the governor's house, as silent as the night itself.
-- -- --
"COME OUT WITH YOUR HANDS UP!" This was boomed out over a megaphone, and filled the lobby, where Bokudou and Bushido were still hiding, each behind a pillar on opposite sides of the lobby.
They had their headsets on, and were in constant communication with each other. Bushido asked, "How much longer do you think until Sanzoku gives us an exit?"
Bokudou, busy changing the ammunition in his revolvers, replied, "We'll hold out as long as possible."
"What if SWAT come in?"
"Don't tell me you're scared."
"I just don't like the idea of being killed, alright?"
"You were in the army! You fought in the 2003 Gulf War!"
"Your point being?"
"None, really, just thought I'd mention it."
The megaphone sounded the same message again, except there was an added threat this time. "WE WILL OPEN FIRE IN ONE MINUTE!"
Bokudou grimaced and said, "Looks like we'll be killed here, unless Sanzoku decided to give us an exit."
"He's probably too busy," replied Bushido, "Fantasising over Kunoichi."
'We've never even seen the woman's face, my friend. Although, I wouldn't say no to those curves."
"That could count as sexual harassment."
"Back in the LAPD, sexual harassment was just pissing off the department lesbian."
The megaphone again. "40 SECONDS!"
Bushido changed the clip in his pistol, and said into the microphone, "Sanzoku, if you hear this, you better be fucking well trying to get us out of this mess."
An Australian voice crackled over the radio in response, "What's it worth to you?"
"I'll fucking well kill you if you don't get us out of here!"
"Contradiction there, Bushido."
The voice of Shogun came over, and in a calm but forceful voice said, "Sanzoku, you will get them out of there. Now!"
Sanzoku sighed and said, "Fine, fine."
Again came the megaphone, this time with, "15 SECONDS!"
Bokudou said, "I think it's about time we blow this scene."
Sanzoku responded, chuckling, "Get everybody and the stuff together."
"Okay."
The megaphone sounded, "3! 2! 1!"
Sanzoku, with a hint of satisfaction in his voice, said, "Let's jam."
Just before the police opened fire, Sanzoku fired his rifle. The bullet passed straight into the fuel tank of the nearest car to the lobby door, causing it to explode, a bright orange mushroom of fire, which threw the car upwards, to then let it bash itself into the pavement. This in turn caused a ripple effect, blowing up a long row of cars outside the building. The fire climbed high, and so did the badly burnt corpses of many police and SWAT.
The remaining heavily armed police and SWAT, around 50, began to fire towards the doors of the building, each one of them filled with fear and hatred of Bushido and Bokudou. None of them were expecting a man in a trench coat to come out of the burning wreckage, firing a Desert Eagle into the groups of officers, firing without punishment, since the SWAT gunfire drowned his own.
Sanzoku kept firing shots, bringing down a SWAT with every bullet. Bushido and Bokudou made their own charges, crunching glass beneath their feet as they opened fire onto the cowering police.
-- -- --
Eventually, Bushido, Bokudou and the trench coat wearer were together, hiding behind the smouldering wreckage of a police car. The police forces were doing the same thing, although many had retreated after the sheer slaughter that the three men had caused.
The trench-coated man was reloading the Desert Eagle he held, his eyes covered by his wide-brimmed hat. He smiled, and said, "We need to get out of here. Fast. Kunoichi is about to eliminate the target."
Bokudou emptied his revolver and reloaded quickly, staring at the man and asked, "How the fuck do you know that, Ronin? You weren't even at the briefing!"
The man now known as Ronin grinned and replied, "You know that I do what I please, Bokudou. Besides, you should be glad I got us a getaway car." He then motioned to one of the only on damaged cars in the area, a DeLorean.
Bushido glared at Ronin and said, "You got us a fucking DeLorean. What are you, Marty McFly?!"
Ronin kept grinning and said, "Hey, best I could find. If you would prefer to stay here..."
Bushido sighed and shook his head.
The two did as requested, and Ronin pulled out two cylinders, around the same size as a Coke can. He said, "You might want to cover your mouths and noses, boys. When I throw these, we run. Understand?"
Bushido and Bokudou both nodded, and got into positions ready for a sprint. Ronin held his arms up, and threw the two cylinders.
Time seemed to slow down as all three began a mad run towards the DeLorean. Bullets whizzed past them, and they each fired off a few rounds in every direction, hoping to at least distract the guards, and hopefully spook them. But Ronin did a good enough job with his little devices.
The cylinders released a sound, like a puff. Then, a white smoke started being released, into all directions. The guards had finally walked out, firing blindly with their SigPro handguns at the speeding DeLorean, as the gas expanded.
The CS gas started invading their lungs, after a couple of inhalations, and they began coughing, with their throats and eyes reddish and irritated. Some began walking back, amongst a cloud of military grade pepper spray, where most of the officers were already unconscious in the floor, due to a respiratory seizure.
They hid behind the car, as Ronin opened the door, and busted in, as Bokudou laid suppressive fire with his M93F's. Bushido, using his amazing physical power, fired the Benelli M3 with a single hand, while opening the door swiftly with the other. Ronin started the engine, while Bokudou used up his last two magazines, mowing down the last guards who weren't dropped by the CS gas, and entered quickly.
"Go! Go! Go!" he rushed Ronin, as the latter violently pushed the accelerator pedal and the DeLorean sped off.
-- -- --
It was one of the surviving officers, Lt. Martins, who had hid below a badly shot car, mainly with .00 Buckshot, took out his police radio, and called the 9th Precinct.
"This is unit 11! They . . ." He coughed, due to the CS residue. "Those bastards! They killed . . . they fucking escaped!"
"Slow down, 11. What happened with the suspects?" The woman voice on the other side was always eerily calm. She must've seen cases like that all her life.
"Suspects?!? The motherfuckers killed them all! They sped off in DeLorean. A fucking DeLorean, you understand?"
"Do you remember the license plate?"
"Yeah . . . It's . . ." He reported the license plate, and a couple of minutes later, a horde of Squad Cars left the 9th precinct, in the hunt for the DeLorean.
-- -- --
She had reached the back door of the Governor's home, and she leaned to see through. No guards were present at the scene, so she prepared the lock picks. She inserted them silently into the keyhole, and started forcing the mechanism, and the satisfactory clicking noise welcomed her.
She opened the door. Again, the back hall was covered by the dark, with doors at the sides, and famous painting reproductions were present at the walls. She reached up to her mask; she changed the NVG mode to Thermal imaging.
The heat showed up on screen, as the looked at one of the walls, the heat of the bodies of a group of guards was seen on the other side of it. She looked around; there was a small formation of heat (in a horizontal fashion), which, in her opinion, was the Governor, sleeping. She pulled her Five-seveN out of its holster. The mission would be over soon.
-- -- --
The DeLorean was now the prey. It was now in the highway, a large group of squad cars behind it. The highway wasn't very filled, so the DeLorean didn't have much room to hide.
The officers pursued the vehicle, all understanding their mission; hunt down the suspects. "STOP THE VEHICLE! STOP THE VEHICLE!" The officer repeated, trying to break through their brains.
"I'll shoot the bastard!" Bushido shouted, enraged, as he prepared his Benelli and took the forward section of the window, as he aimed from inside. "Bye!"
The .00 buckshots smashed into the car, destroying the engine, the tires, the windshield and the officer's faces, the car turning violently and crushing into the highway's limits.
"Bring them down!" The cop ordered, his group began firing at the DeLorean with their Beretta's, the bullets hitting the car, through the night.
Bokudou, ducking before the back windshield was shattered by gunfire, returned some himself, with his two Revolvers, the bullets hitting the Squad Cars.
The driving Ronin could hear the gunfire, the officers firing their M9's from the windshields, across the night.
"I hope I didn't offend Sanzoku so badly!" Bushido shouted out, with an angry expression. Maybe he was mad at Sanzoku, for being so easily offended. Bokudou would never quite know, or want to know, with all the bullets passing by.
The first amazing thing would be the empty shell casings of Bushido's shotgun, landing on the pavement and rolling all the way to the formation of squad cars, which were already firing their Beretta's to the DeLorean.
"This shit won't take much more!" Bushido informed to the always-cool Ronin, who drove the car, in a zigzag pattern to avoid gunfire, and he seemed to be peacefully concentrated on the road.
"Want me to stop?" He asked, undisturbed as always.
"Why the fuck do you put me in these dilemmas?" Bushido asked, half to himself, as he leaned and fired two shots from the window.
Bokudou finished the M93 magazines, and he holstered his weapons, he pulled out his .44 Revolvers, and fired. One of the rounds accurately blew a windshield, pierced an officer's rib cage and stopped. It was the driver's companion, and that car stopped being a threat.
"Shit!" He shouted.
The rain of bullets sieged the DeLorean, impacting all around, some even flying near the occupant's heads, and things weren't looking too good. It wasn't so usual for them; being somewhat hopeless, realizing that they had messed up.
Something dived into Bushido's ears, it was a signal to have hope; the roaring of a motorcycle, coming from far away. The Kawasaki Ninja rushed to the scene , un-repaired after smashing into the glass. It got in line with one of the Squad Cars, with a violent turn, and a confident tactic.
The officer driving turned his head, astonished. There was a man riding a bike, par with the Police Vehicle. The cyclist rid it with one hand; the other one was handling something odd; it had pretty much the length of a carbine, but no magazines were visible, yet . . .
The H&K G11 rifle was aimed towards the car, at the confused driver's face, and the cyclist opened fire; the small 4.7 x 33mm caseless rounds began their trajectory towards the car.
Inferno unleashed inside; the bullets smashed all the windows and doors, piercing every organ in the occupants, as they leaned, without fully understanding why they were dying.
Then, one of caseless bullets hit the lower part of the vehicle (firing a rifle, no matter how small, with one hand was never easy) and went through the gasoline duct, igniting it all the way to the main tank.
The vehicle exploded in a flash of fire, to then rise a couple of meters into the air, and landing, as a fairly complex structure made out of coal.
"Oh shit! They have a rider! Get him!" One of the Squad car officers shouted across the radio system.
Sanzoku turned on his own axis, leaning his bike to get a clear shot of one of the vehicles, to spot an officer, leaning and aiming his Beretta M9, likely to his face, covered by a black helmet.
The officer, experienced, fired first, the 9mm bullet hitting the G11 rifle. By the tie Sanzoku tried to fire, the gun refused, the bullet had damaged the receptor and bounced off.
"Damn!" Sanzoku, however, didn't lack a support weapon. Even though his MSG-90 sniper rifle was too large, he went for his holster and pulled out a similar gun to the cops; a Beretta 9000S.
It was of a heavier calibre, a .45 ACP, yet smaller, and had an extremely modern and ergonomic design. He aimed at the car and fired two rounds, both hitting the officer in the arm, and he could see him retreating.
"Fuck! They're going to get away!" The wounded officer cried to his companion, holding his wounded arm.
"We can't retreat now!" The driver responded, frankly, and franticly.
-- -- --
The female ninja (Kunoichi) slid to the door, and blinked. She had to open that door, to find the leaning governor. She had studied the blueprints of the building, and that was his bedroom. She opened the door in a segmented fashion; opened a bit, then a bit more.
It was obvious that that man in his 40's, the governor of the State of New York, was having a good night's sleep before the speech. He must have never suspected any would know what he would say. Poor bastard, the assassin thought to herself as she unsheathed her ninja-to and walked towards the sleeping man.
She rose her ninja-to, her mind focused on that man.
The governor opened his eyes, probably noticing her breath. As the world slid into focus, he understood less; a woman with an odd face, with a sword risen? He convinced himself it was a nightmare, but his eyes were still ridden with lack of belief as the ninja-to dropped and pierced his chest, ripping his heart, a lung and his spinal cord. He was virtually impaled.
She removed the ninja sword from the governor's rib cage, and decided to escape. But before that, she carved the kanji for 'Kage' in the wall. She smiled to herself. Mission Accomplished.
-- -- --
The race had driven into the narrowest area of the high way, a train of gunfire running rampant. While the three remaining Squad cars pursued the DeLorean, the motorcycle followed the last squad Car, surrounding the police officers.
In that point, only one car could pass at a time, developing a well- coordinated line.
"They are about to reach us! Do something!" Bushido shouted at the un- disturbed Ronin.
"Like what?"
"Take some instrument, some high tech shit, I don't know!"
"Check below." Ronin said, smiling to the Assaulter. Bushido looked down, and found it: A small tube, retractile. He had seen a couple in Iraq, but it was sort of outdated. He started retracting the tube, reaching its meant form; A Non-Guided Light Anti-Tank Weapon. (LAW)
Bushido turned around and slid the LAW outside the window, as he could see the first car of the row. He aimed the LAW, removed the safety and pressed the right button.
From the small tube, a small rocket was ejected, leaving a dark expansive trail and a lot of smoke within the car, as Bokudou coughed twice.
The Anti-Tank round impacted the windshield of the car, killing the two cops instantly; The car exploded, detonating the engine and the fuel tank, raising the car a few feet to then fall in front of their comrades.
"Shit! They stopped us!" One of the survivors squealed, seeing the wreckage stopping them. "At least the biker is ours!" Wrong.
Sanzoku augmented the speed of his bike, and did a small leap, hitting the trunk of the last Squad Car with the back wheel of the "Ninja", to then make a long jump, using the car as a ramp, to fall next to the DeLorean. They had escaped.
-- -- --
The next morning, the headlines on every paper were not of the chase, or the explosions, or the gunfight. Rather, it was something around the assassination of the governor.
One detail that every paper seemed to miss out on, or skim over, was the kanji carved into the wall. It was a detail that Solid Snake and Otacon did not skip over, however. As soon as they heard about that the governor was going to give that speech, they scanned everything, knowing that something would happen, be it a sudden drop out, or his demise.
Unfortunately, the latter had happened. Otacon had been up on the Internet since he had read the paper, searching for everything and anything to do with the assassination. For a few hours, he had been searching solely on 'Kage', and had discovered a few things.
The first was that the word meant 'shadow'. The second, and most intriguing, was that hundreds of murders, assassinations and other nasty things since the 1960's had this particular kanji found near, or at, the scene of the act in question.
Snake was reading the article in the New York Times for the seventeenth time over now, and was drinking a mug of coffee at the same time. We rubbed his eyes, and got up. He looked over at Otacon, and said, "What do you think? Patriot involvement?"
Otacon shrugged and replied, "It's likely, seeing as this 'Kage' thing has been linked to many political assassinations over the years, but until we get further information, I can't say for sure."
Snake nodded and looked out the window, and noted that it was not going to be that good a day. Clouds were looming overhead, and it was probably going to rain.
Just then, a man on a black motorcycle stopped outside their house, dropped a parcel in their letterbox, and sped off.
Snake, without thinking, ran outside to the letterbox, reached inside and pulled out the brown parcel, opened it and grabbed a mobile phone from within it. As soon as he did that, it started ringing.
Frozen for a moment, Snake answered it, put the phone to his ear and said, "Who is this?"
The voice on the other end, a deep male voice, replied, "Hello Snake, or rather, David."
"I asked who this was!"
"My name is Shogun, the leader of a little group you might be interested in. We go by the name of the Kage."
Snake began to walk back into the house, asking, "Why did you kill the governor?!"
"If you want to know, come to Tokyo in a week. Go to a bar named 'Kozure Okami'. Ask for Shogun at the entrance. We'll meet there."
"No fucking way. This is a trap, I know it."
"If this was a trap, Snake, then there would be no need for you to come to Tokyo. Patriot agents would be all over your house and be executing you right now. I'm giving you a chance to take them down. All it costs is a plane ticket. It's your choice."
Snake angrily sighed, and hung up the phone. Otacon got out of his chair and asked, "Who was that on the phone?"
Snake replied, "The Kage. Get us two plane tickets to Tokyo."
It was a very well decorated lobby, filled with plants, couches and paintings. A few pillars dotted the lobby, not for actual support, but to add that little bit of extra flair to the building. The walls were a plain cream, the floor carpeted with a cream, darker then that of the walls. The front doors were automatic-sliding glass, and outside it was black, the only light emanating from the lights above them.
He glanced over at the two security guards, each one guarding a different door. The one on the left went to the first floor offices, the right one on the right was an elevator. He nodded at each of the guards in turn, who in reply tilted their hats.
The building was a company headquarters- most of the floors offices, the very top few belonging to the CEO and his crew. The oddest thing about his work was that, even as a lobby worker, he didn't know what the company did. All he thought was that 'Kyuukoku' was a terrible name for a business, especially an America-based one, as most people would be scared of even pronouncing the name itself.
He was startled when the front doors slid open- the place usually only received visitors during the day, and it was nearly closing time. The security guards were also un-nerved by the late visit, and put their hands on their guns. Why the company stayed open until midnight, the worker didn't know.
The doors slid open all the way, and a black man came in, carrying a brown suitcase and wearing a long, dark coat. His face was grim, and he seemed to be quite plump, as his coat was bulging in places. His eyes darted from straight ahead over to the security guards, and then returned to the worker.
The man reached the front desk, and the worker started the usual talk. "Welcome to Kyuukoku Enterprises, sir, how may I help you?"
The man in black, as if reading from a script, replied, "Yes, I'm here to see Mr. Ashmore."
The worker thought about this. Usually people never asked to see the CEO, they just came to the desk, stated their business and went to the elevator. But they always seemed to start bringing out their invitations before they even reached the desk.
"Something wrong?"
Hearing the African-American man speak startled the worker, as he had been lost in his train of thought. He replied, jokingly, "Sorry, people don't often come in here at this time of night."
The man shrugged and said, "Guess I'm the first. Mind if I go up now?"
The worker answered in a serious tone, "May I see some identification, and your invitation?" The African-American cautiously reached into the briefcase and pulled out some papers. "I'm sure everything you need is there."
The worker ruffled through the papers, and replied, "Sir, these appear to be papers belonging to a paper on Environmental Education..."
The man in the coat sighed and said, "Fuck this charade." He then threw the briefcase aside and whipped of his coat to reveal a shotgun strapped to his chest and a handgun in a holster on his waist. He was wearing one of those vests the SWAT always wore, and he had various shells and ammunition clips on the afore mentioned vest.
It was about now when all hell broke loose.
The man pulled the shotgun off his chest and flicked it in his hands, smashing the worker across the face, erasing his facial features and replacing them one large wound, the latter falling to the ground with a thud. The man then fired a round off at the elevator guard, who promptly had more holes in him then a cheese grater, then dived over the lobby desk to avoid a bullet from the security guard on the left. The man then let off a shot at the office guard, all the pellets missing, except for one that punctured the guards' shoulder.
The guard fell to his knees, his gun hand pressed against the wound. The shotgun-man then passed the shotgun to his left hand, then with his right hand pulled out his pistol and fired, blowing a chunk out of the back of the guards head, spraying the wall with a pink pigmentation. He had the disgusting thought that those might be his brains.
The man put his pistol away, then put on a wireless headset and tapped the right earpiece. He spoke the word, "Shogun." Immediately a male Japanese voice came in over the headset, speaking, "Yes, Bushido, may I help?"
"I need Sanzoku right now."
"Why?"
"Just cleaned up some guards, need some backup for going any further into the building."
"I see. I'll get him to ride Bokudou in as soon as possible."
"Good..."
The man, now identified as Bushido, looked down at the lobby worker, who was groaning in pain. The worker then rolled over, and straight onto...
The alarm.
Bushido, wide-eyed, said, "Fuck."
Shogun asked, "What?"
"GET THOSE TWO HERE RIGHT NOW!"
-- -- --
Two minutes later, the elevator pinged and out poured a dozen or more heavily armed men, each carrying a SigPro 9mm Handguns and wearing a Kevlar vest. They scoped the lobby out, and saw nothing suspicious, apart from the dead security guards.
Two of the men began to walk over to the desk, their weapons raised and ready to fire. They aimed over the edge and found nothing. The body of the desk clerk had an entry wound between his eyes, and there was no sign of the intruder.
"Where the fuck could he have gone to," asked one guard.
"He can't have left, the doors are locked," replied the other.
"And the glass is still intact?"
"Seems to be."
Spoke to soon. Just then a motorcycle smashed through the front doors, sending shards of glass everywhere. There were two men on the bike- one driving, the other holding on for his dear life, gripped to his partner's stomach, trying not to be pulled back by the speed.
The bike landed on the ground and screeched to a halt parallel to the stunned guards. The driver reached into a bag on the side of the bike and pulled out a G11 assault rifle. The passenger pulled two Colt Pythons from one of the two pairs of holsters he had on his belt. They both aimed.
That weapon he was carrying –the G11, was like nothing the guards had seen before; the rifle didn't have Magazines, since all the Cartridges were pre- loaded into the chamber, producing a smoother, deadlier action.
The guards never stood a chance.
As soon as the driver opened fire with his rifle, the passenger did a side leap towards the nearest pillar, pumping out shot after shot from his revolvers. Three guards fell to the floor dead instantly, another two clutched wounds and did as the rest of the group were doing- getting into cover fast.
Bushido, hidden until now, darted out from behind a pillar on the right- hand side of the room, shotgun in his right hand, pistol in the left. He blasted out with both of the weapons, taking out a guard who was making a last-ditch effort to become a hero, by charging the motorcycle driver, his finger firmly on the trigger.
In an interesting event, the afore-mentioned guard, after having the left side of his head blown into steaming chunks of gore, span around from the hit. His finger was still on the trigger, however, and he raked a stream of bullets across the positions of his fellow guards. Several fell to the ground, the bullets having hit the unprotected parts of their body, namely the arms, legs and crotches.
The passenger ducked out from his pillar, running in a zigzag pattern towards a pair of guards who had paired up in the defence, whilst firing with his revolvers. The passenger then rolled into a somersault, and opened fire by the corpses of the previously mentioned team guards. The passenger, having run out of ammunition in his Colt Pythons, switched to the pistols in his other holsters- a pair of Beretta M93Fs. The switch only lasted a few seconds, and then he returned to finishing off the remaining guards, with a storm of 9mm bullets.
-- -- --
The slaughter lasted about two minutes. The three men, with their apparent expertise, had killed all twelve of the guards. None of the three had been hit once.
The driver looked around, then got off his motorcycle and began inspecting it for damage. Emblazoned on the side of the bike was the model- a Kawasaki Ninja. The bike was pure black; the exposed metal had even been de-shined. Still, if he hadn't chipped a lot of the paint by riding through the glass, it would've been a beautiful machine.
The driver was wearing a dark green motorcyclists suit, and a helmet of a similar colour was on his head. He pulled off the helmet, showing his face and hair. The hair was brown, with streaks of blonde throughout. He was wearing a pair of black sunglasses that were narrow and wrapped around the sides of his eyes. On the back of his neck was a phrase written in kanji.
However, the driver was white, and his heritage was shown by his next words, spoken in an Australian accent, "I thought I told you not to call me in unless it was absolutely necessary!"
Bushido responded by saying, "Oh yeah, Sanzoku, I'm sure I could've taken those guards by myself."
The driver, now known as Sanzoku, replied, "You could've just asked for Bokudou!"
"But I needed your specific skills!"
"I'm the fucking sniper of the Kage, alright?! Not some fucking assault shooter! My bike can't handle this sort of shit!"
The passenger, leaning against a pillar, kept silent while Bushido and Sanzoku kept arguing over the matter. He was reloading his pistols, taking care with each and every bullet. He brushed his shoulder-length dark-brown hair out of his eyes and kept on loading.
He was wearing a white tank top and a pair of black jeans. The jeans had two belts looped around it, both of which had holsters on either side. His actions were focussed on getting his weapons reloaded quickly, but his eyes were a different story. They were inky-black, and moved quickly, checking his surroundings.
"Bokudou!"
This got the passengers attention. He looked over at Bushido, who had said his name, and Bushido asked, "What do you think we should do with Sanzoku here?"
Sanzoku looked over at Bokudou and said, "Tell him I'll do what ever I fucking well want to!"
Bokudou got up from against the pillar, walked over to Sanzoku and said to both of the others, "I think that Sanzoku should not have to ride his bike directly into the combat situation."
Sanzoku smiled smugly and looked over at Bushido.
"After all," continued Bokudou, "if we keep hurting that bike, it might not purr so much when Sanzoku jams his dick up its tailpipe."
Bushido burst out laughing, and Sanzoku swung a punch at Bokudou, who deftly caught it. "Now now," said Bokudou, "there will be no violence in front of your girlfriend."
Bushido kept on laughing, wiping a tear from his eye. Sanzoku was about to yell at Bokudou when their headsets beeped. They all put theirs on, and the familiar voice of Shogun came over.
"Report, boys."
Bokudou explained what had happened, then asked what they should do now.
Shogun replied, "Proceed with the operation as normal. Kunoichi is about to enter the mansion, and we need you to keep the police distracted. Not that they will ignore your little slaughter. Until further notice, Bushido and Bokudou are to remain in the lobby. Sanzoku, however, is to return to his designated sniper position. Shogun out."
The three men pulled off the mini-headsets. There was a moment of silence before Sanzoku broke it by asking, "Uh, just checking up on why you need to distract the entire police force."
Bushido smacked Sanzoku on the head and responded, "Didn't you pay attention at the briefing?!"
"Uh, funny story about that. I was thinking about my bike, and whether or not to get a custom detail job for it after the next payment."
Bokudou jokingly said, "So you're going to pretty up your girlfriend, huh. Saying that really does make us think your love for that bike goes further then just a platonic relationship."
"Shut up!"
Bushido held back his laughter and gave Sanzoku a real answer. "The reason we're here, distracting the police, is so that Kunoichi can assassinate the Governor easily."
"And why does she need to kill that guy?"
"Because that guy is going to give a speech tomorrow. A speech where he is going to explain what the fuck happened last month, alright? When that huge thing crashed into Manhattan? He's going to explain everything."
"Oh... why does Shogun want to kill that guy?"
"If Shogun had a choice, I doubt he would want to kill that man. But the Yakuza have his balls in a vice grip, so we do the job."
"Ah. Gotcha. But wait, Kunoichi? She might get hurt in this mission!"
Bokudou chirped in, "Does your bike know you're interested in other women?"
"Shut up, damnit! I am leaving back to my sniper point now, and I hope you two dicks get killed by the NYPD!"
Sanzoku then held the G11 in a standard shooting position and blasted out the rest of the glass in the doors. He walked over to his bike, pulled a saddlebag off of it and dropped it to the ground. "Extra ammunition for you two fuckers. Maybe you can cause some damage before you die."
Sanzoku then got on his bike and rode through the smashed doors, leaving Bokudou and Bushido behind. Bushido said, "Bike fucker."
Both he and Bokudou grinned, then walked over and grabbed the ammunition in the bag.
-- -- --
A dark shadow passed over the outer wall of the governor's house. It was pitch black, and the only sound in the air was the rustling of leafs from a large oak tree, which was located right next to the wall.
There were five security guards patrolling the front garden, and another five at the back, all clear despite of the greenish aura of the Night Vision Goggles. Security was tight on this evening, although the security did not know why. All the governor was doing tomorrow was giving a speech, not of any real importance to them. But they were getting paid, so they didn't mind.
Jackson was one such guard, and he was positioned near the oak tree. He closed his eyes and yawned- most people usually do at midnight. He looked around, making sure his fellow guards were still at their posts. Dagget was still at his point near the driveway, and Mathers was still by the patio, having a smoke.
It was then Jackson looked over at the tree, and noticed a glinting from beneath it. He hadn't noticed it before- but then again, it might just have been that his tiredness has been affecting his senses. He shrugged and walked over, forgetting to radio in that he was changing position.
As soon as he reached the base of the tree, he saw that the glinting object was just a piece of mirror, reflecting light from behind him. He sighed, turned and got ready to return back to his position.
He was pulled up by the neck and into the tree, his breath choked out of him by the arm wrapped around his neck. He tried to scream, but instead he felt the darkness come over him and he died, a thin knife wound slicing open his throat.
As quickly as the wound had been delivered, a thick bandage was applied to the wound, and the lifeless corpse of Jackson was soon tied to the trunk of the tree. No blood had hit the ground, and there was no evidence that he had even been over to the tree.
The end of a pistol silencer was seen for a few seconds outside the shadows of the tree, before it was pulled back after firing a shot that blew a hole into the head of Dagget. The bullet, of the new calibre 5.7 x 28mm Belgian, was armour piercing, thus making the hole in the cranium was easy.
Mathers hadn't noticed any of this happening, so it came as quite a shock when his throat suddenly had a hole in it.
A few minutes later, all three of the guards' corpses were tied to the tree. The shadow killer stepped into the light for a couple of seconds, and it was clearly seen what it was.
The slender curves seen through the form-fitting black body suit showed that the person was a woman, although there was no evidence of that in her face. That part of her body had a mask on it, a blood red lacquered one that showed no part of her face. A ponytail poked out of the back of the mask, and she moved with the skill and grace of a cat.
Strapped to her back was a ninja-to, the hilt protruding over her left shoulder, and parallel to her hips was a smaller companion blade, a wakizashi. The pistol she had used to kill the three guards was shown to be a suppressed Five-seveN with laser sight was strapped to the outside of her thigh.
Such skill, grace and weapons could only belong to one type of assassin, a Kunoichi.
And so, Kunoichi left the light and began to climb the walls of the governor's house, as silent as the night itself.
-- -- --
"COME OUT WITH YOUR HANDS UP!" This was boomed out over a megaphone, and filled the lobby, where Bokudou and Bushido were still hiding, each behind a pillar on opposite sides of the lobby.
They had their headsets on, and were in constant communication with each other. Bushido asked, "How much longer do you think until Sanzoku gives us an exit?"
Bokudou, busy changing the ammunition in his revolvers, replied, "We'll hold out as long as possible."
"What if SWAT come in?"
"Don't tell me you're scared."
"I just don't like the idea of being killed, alright?"
"You were in the army! You fought in the 2003 Gulf War!"
"Your point being?"
"None, really, just thought I'd mention it."
The megaphone sounded the same message again, except there was an added threat this time. "WE WILL OPEN FIRE IN ONE MINUTE!"
Bokudou grimaced and said, "Looks like we'll be killed here, unless Sanzoku decided to give us an exit."
"He's probably too busy," replied Bushido, "Fantasising over Kunoichi."
'We've never even seen the woman's face, my friend. Although, I wouldn't say no to those curves."
"That could count as sexual harassment."
"Back in the LAPD, sexual harassment was just pissing off the department lesbian."
The megaphone again. "40 SECONDS!"
Bushido changed the clip in his pistol, and said into the microphone, "Sanzoku, if you hear this, you better be fucking well trying to get us out of this mess."
An Australian voice crackled over the radio in response, "What's it worth to you?"
"I'll fucking well kill you if you don't get us out of here!"
"Contradiction there, Bushido."
The voice of Shogun came over, and in a calm but forceful voice said, "Sanzoku, you will get them out of there. Now!"
Sanzoku sighed and said, "Fine, fine."
Again came the megaphone, this time with, "15 SECONDS!"
Bokudou said, "I think it's about time we blow this scene."
Sanzoku responded, chuckling, "Get everybody and the stuff together."
"Okay."
The megaphone sounded, "3! 2! 1!"
Sanzoku, with a hint of satisfaction in his voice, said, "Let's jam."
Just before the police opened fire, Sanzoku fired his rifle. The bullet passed straight into the fuel tank of the nearest car to the lobby door, causing it to explode, a bright orange mushroom of fire, which threw the car upwards, to then let it bash itself into the pavement. This in turn caused a ripple effect, blowing up a long row of cars outside the building. The fire climbed high, and so did the badly burnt corpses of many police and SWAT.
The remaining heavily armed police and SWAT, around 50, began to fire towards the doors of the building, each one of them filled with fear and hatred of Bushido and Bokudou. None of them were expecting a man in a trench coat to come out of the burning wreckage, firing a Desert Eagle into the groups of officers, firing without punishment, since the SWAT gunfire drowned his own.
Sanzoku kept firing shots, bringing down a SWAT with every bullet. Bushido and Bokudou made their own charges, crunching glass beneath their feet as they opened fire onto the cowering police.
-- -- --
Eventually, Bushido, Bokudou and the trench coat wearer were together, hiding behind the smouldering wreckage of a police car. The police forces were doing the same thing, although many had retreated after the sheer slaughter that the three men had caused.
The trench-coated man was reloading the Desert Eagle he held, his eyes covered by his wide-brimmed hat. He smiled, and said, "We need to get out of here. Fast. Kunoichi is about to eliminate the target."
Bokudou emptied his revolver and reloaded quickly, staring at the man and asked, "How the fuck do you know that, Ronin? You weren't even at the briefing!"
The man now known as Ronin grinned and replied, "You know that I do what I please, Bokudou. Besides, you should be glad I got us a getaway car." He then motioned to one of the only on damaged cars in the area, a DeLorean.
Bushido glared at Ronin and said, "You got us a fucking DeLorean. What are you, Marty McFly?!"
Ronin kept grinning and said, "Hey, best I could find. If you would prefer to stay here..."
Bushido sighed and shook his head.
The two did as requested, and Ronin pulled out two cylinders, around the same size as a Coke can. He said, "You might want to cover your mouths and noses, boys. When I throw these, we run. Understand?"
Bushido and Bokudou both nodded, and got into positions ready for a sprint. Ronin held his arms up, and threw the two cylinders.
Time seemed to slow down as all three began a mad run towards the DeLorean. Bullets whizzed past them, and they each fired off a few rounds in every direction, hoping to at least distract the guards, and hopefully spook them. But Ronin did a good enough job with his little devices.
The cylinders released a sound, like a puff. Then, a white smoke started being released, into all directions. The guards had finally walked out, firing blindly with their SigPro handguns at the speeding DeLorean, as the gas expanded.
The CS gas started invading their lungs, after a couple of inhalations, and they began coughing, with their throats and eyes reddish and irritated. Some began walking back, amongst a cloud of military grade pepper spray, where most of the officers were already unconscious in the floor, due to a respiratory seizure.
They hid behind the car, as Ronin opened the door, and busted in, as Bokudou laid suppressive fire with his M93F's. Bushido, using his amazing physical power, fired the Benelli M3 with a single hand, while opening the door swiftly with the other. Ronin started the engine, while Bokudou used up his last two magazines, mowing down the last guards who weren't dropped by the CS gas, and entered quickly.
"Go! Go! Go!" he rushed Ronin, as the latter violently pushed the accelerator pedal and the DeLorean sped off.
-- -- --
It was one of the surviving officers, Lt. Martins, who had hid below a badly shot car, mainly with .00 Buckshot, took out his police radio, and called the 9th Precinct.
"This is unit 11! They . . ." He coughed, due to the CS residue. "Those bastards! They killed . . . they fucking escaped!"
"Slow down, 11. What happened with the suspects?" The woman voice on the other side was always eerily calm. She must've seen cases like that all her life.
"Suspects?!? The motherfuckers killed them all! They sped off in DeLorean. A fucking DeLorean, you understand?"
"Do you remember the license plate?"
"Yeah . . . It's . . ." He reported the license plate, and a couple of minutes later, a horde of Squad Cars left the 9th precinct, in the hunt for the DeLorean.
-- -- --
She had reached the back door of the Governor's home, and she leaned to see through. No guards were present at the scene, so she prepared the lock picks. She inserted them silently into the keyhole, and started forcing the mechanism, and the satisfactory clicking noise welcomed her.
She opened the door. Again, the back hall was covered by the dark, with doors at the sides, and famous painting reproductions were present at the walls. She reached up to her mask; she changed the NVG mode to Thermal imaging.
The heat showed up on screen, as the looked at one of the walls, the heat of the bodies of a group of guards was seen on the other side of it. She looked around; there was a small formation of heat (in a horizontal fashion), which, in her opinion, was the Governor, sleeping. She pulled her Five-seveN out of its holster. The mission would be over soon.
-- -- --
The DeLorean was now the prey. It was now in the highway, a large group of squad cars behind it. The highway wasn't very filled, so the DeLorean didn't have much room to hide.
The officers pursued the vehicle, all understanding their mission; hunt down the suspects. "STOP THE VEHICLE! STOP THE VEHICLE!" The officer repeated, trying to break through their brains.
"I'll shoot the bastard!" Bushido shouted, enraged, as he prepared his Benelli and took the forward section of the window, as he aimed from inside. "Bye!"
The .00 buckshots smashed into the car, destroying the engine, the tires, the windshield and the officer's faces, the car turning violently and crushing into the highway's limits.
"Bring them down!" The cop ordered, his group began firing at the DeLorean with their Beretta's, the bullets hitting the car, through the night.
Bokudou, ducking before the back windshield was shattered by gunfire, returned some himself, with his two Revolvers, the bullets hitting the Squad Cars.
The driving Ronin could hear the gunfire, the officers firing their M9's from the windshields, across the night.
"I hope I didn't offend Sanzoku so badly!" Bushido shouted out, with an angry expression. Maybe he was mad at Sanzoku, for being so easily offended. Bokudou would never quite know, or want to know, with all the bullets passing by.
The first amazing thing would be the empty shell casings of Bushido's shotgun, landing on the pavement and rolling all the way to the formation of squad cars, which were already firing their Beretta's to the DeLorean.
"This shit won't take much more!" Bushido informed to the always-cool Ronin, who drove the car, in a zigzag pattern to avoid gunfire, and he seemed to be peacefully concentrated on the road.
"Want me to stop?" He asked, undisturbed as always.
"Why the fuck do you put me in these dilemmas?" Bushido asked, half to himself, as he leaned and fired two shots from the window.
Bokudou finished the M93 magazines, and he holstered his weapons, he pulled out his .44 Revolvers, and fired. One of the rounds accurately blew a windshield, pierced an officer's rib cage and stopped. It was the driver's companion, and that car stopped being a threat.
"Shit!" He shouted.
The rain of bullets sieged the DeLorean, impacting all around, some even flying near the occupant's heads, and things weren't looking too good. It wasn't so usual for them; being somewhat hopeless, realizing that they had messed up.
Something dived into Bushido's ears, it was a signal to have hope; the roaring of a motorcycle, coming from far away. The Kawasaki Ninja rushed to the scene , un-repaired after smashing into the glass. It got in line with one of the Squad Cars, with a violent turn, and a confident tactic.
The officer driving turned his head, astonished. There was a man riding a bike, par with the Police Vehicle. The cyclist rid it with one hand; the other one was handling something odd; it had pretty much the length of a carbine, but no magazines were visible, yet . . .
The H&K G11 rifle was aimed towards the car, at the confused driver's face, and the cyclist opened fire; the small 4.7 x 33mm caseless rounds began their trajectory towards the car.
Inferno unleashed inside; the bullets smashed all the windows and doors, piercing every organ in the occupants, as they leaned, without fully understanding why they were dying.
Then, one of caseless bullets hit the lower part of the vehicle (firing a rifle, no matter how small, with one hand was never easy) and went through the gasoline duct, igniting it all the way to the main tank.
The vehicle exploded in a flash of fire, to then rise a couple of meters into the air, and landing, as a fairly complex structure made out of coal.
"Oh shit! They have a rider! Get him!" One of the Squad car officers shouted across the radio system.
Sanzoku turned on his own axis, leaning his bike to get a clear shot of one of the vehicles, to spot an officer, leaning and aiming his Beretta M9, likely to his face, covered by a black helmet.
The officer, experienced, fired first, the 9mm bullet hitting the G11 rifle. By the tie Sanzoku tried to fire, the gun refused, the bullet had damaged the receptor and bounced off.
"Damn!" Sanzoku, however, didn't lack a support weapon. Even though his MSG-90 sniper rifle was too large, he went for his holster and pulled out a similar gun to the cops; a Beretta 9000S.
It was of a heavier calibre, a .45 ACP, yet smaller, and had an extremely modern and ergonomic design. He aimed at the car and fired two rounds, both hitting the officer in the arm, and he could see him retreating.
"Fuck! They're going to get away!" The wounded officer cried to his companion, holding his wounded arm.
"We can't retreat now!" The driver responded, frankly, and franticly.
-- -- --
The female ninja (Kunoichi) slid to the door, and blinked. She had to open that door, to find the leaning governor. She had studied the blueprints of the building, and that was his bedroom. She opened the door in a segmented fashion; opened a bit, then a bit more.
It was obvious that that man in his 40's, the governor of the State of New York, was having a good night's sleep before the speech. He must have never suspected any would know what he would say. Poor bastard, the assassin thought to herself as she unsheathed her ninja-to and walked towards the sleeping man.
She rose her ninja-to, her mind focused on that man.
The governor opened his eyes, probably noticing her breath. As the world slid into focus, he understood less; a woman with an odd face, with a sword risen? He convinced himself it was a nightmare, but his eyes were still ridden with lack of belief as the ninja-to dropped and pierced his chest, ripping his heart, a lung and his spinal cord. He was virtually impaled.
She removed the ninja sword from the governor's rib cage, and decided to escape. But before that, she carved the kanji for 'Kage' in the wall. She smiled to herself. Mission Accomplished.
-- -- --
The race had driven into the narrowest area of the high way, a train of gunfire running rampant. While the three remaining Squad cars pursued the DeLorean, the motorcycle followed the last squad Car, surrounding the police officers.
In that point, only one car could pass at a time, developing a well- coordinated line.
"They are about to reach us! Do something!" Bushido shouted at the un- disturbed Ronin.
"Like what?"
"Take some instrument, some high tech shit, I don't know!"
"Check below." Ronin said, smiling to the Assaulter. Bushido looked down, and found it: A small tube, retractile. He had seen a couple in Iraq, but it was sort of outdated. He started retracting the tube, reaching its meant form; A Non-Guided Light Anti-Tank Weapon. (LAW)
Bushido turned around and slid the LAW outside the window, as he could see the first car of the row. He aimed the LAW, removed the safety and pressed the right button.
From the small tube, a small rocket was ejected, leaving a dark expansive trail and a lot of smoke within the car, as Bokudou coughed twice.
The Anti-Tank round impacted the windshield of the car, killing the two cops instantly; The car exploded, detonating the engine and the fuel tank, raising the car a few feet to then fall in front of their comrades.
"Shit! They stopped us!" One of the survivors squealed, seeing the wreckage stopping them. "At least the biker is ours!" Wrong.
Sanzoku augmented the speed of his bike, and did a small leap, hitting the trunk of the last Squad Car with the back wheel of the "Ninja", to then make a long jump, using the car as a ramp, to fall next to the DeLorean. They had escaped.
-- -- --
The next morning, the headlines on every paper were not of the chase, or the explosions, or the gunfight. Rather, it was something around the assassination of the governor.
One detail that every paper seemed to miss out on, or skim over, was the kanji carved into the wall. It was a detail that Solid Snake and Otacon did not skip over, however. As soon as they heard about that the governor was going to give that speech, they scanned everything, knowing that something would happen, be it a sudden drop out, or his demise.
Unfortunately, the latter had happened. Otacon had been up on the Internet since he had read the paper, searching for everything and anything to do with the assassination. For a few hours, he had been searching solely on 'Kage', and had discovered a few things.
The first was that the word meant 'shadow'. The second, and most intriguing, was that hundreds of murders, assassinations and other nasty things since the 1960's had this particular kanji found near, or at, the scene of the act in question.
Snake was reading the article in the New York Times for the seventeenth time over now, and was drinking a mug of coffee at the same time. We rubbed his eyes, and got up. He looked over at Otacon, and said, "What do you think? Patriot involvement?"
Otacon shrugged and replied, "It's likely, seeing as this 'Kage' thing has been linked to many political assassinations over the years, but until we get further information, I can't say for sure."
Snake nodded and looked out the window, and noted that it was not going to be that good a day. Clouds were looming overhead, and it was probably going to rain.
Just then, a man on a black motorcycle stopped outside their house, dropped a parcel in their letterbox, and sped off.
Snake, without thinking, ran outside to the letterbox, reached inside and pulled out the brown parcel, opened it and grabbed a mobile phone from within it. As soon as he did that, it started ringing.
Frozen for a moment, Snake answered it, put the phone to his ear and said, "Who is this?"
The voice on the other end, a deep male voice, replied, "Hello Snake, or rather, David."
"I asked who this was!"
"My name is Shogun, the leader of a little group you might be interested in. We go by the name of the Kage."
Snake began to walk back into the house, asking, "Why did you kill the governor?!"
"If you want to know, come to Tokyo in a week. Go to a bar named 'Kozure Okami'. Ask for Shogun at the entrance. We'll meet there."
"No fucking way. This is a trap, I know it."
"If this was a trap, Snake, then there would be no need for you to come to Tokyo. Patriot agents would be all over your house and be executing you right now. I'm giving you a chance to take them down. All it costs is a plane ticket. It's your choice."
Snake angrily sighed, and hung up the phone. Otacon got out of his chair and asked, "Who was that on the phone?"
Snake replied, "The Kage. Get us two plane tickets to Tokyo."