Chapter 2
Everyone is still sitting and enjoying themselves when the metallic click-clack rings in Sarah's ears. It's faint, almost no one notices except for the few who were facing the entrance. Sarah is just turning, more curious about the screeching tires outside. Alcohol makes her vision swim, and the horrors of yesterday are almost faint. In the corner of her eye she catches Taylor's wide eyed expression, and her power kicks in immediately.
Danger. Grenade, three seconds to detonation.
It whispers, and Sarah launches herself over the counter top. Bob — the barman – looks defeated and is swearing under his breath, a cigarette tucked in the corner of his mouth. And then the grenade goes off.
Sarah's ears are ringing. She feels nauseated. Up and down make no sense. Her eyes roll around in their sockets. She smells smoke, but it's mixed with the smell of churning human flesh. Sarah faintly recollects a documentary, it makes sense that it smells like pork.
Someone is dragging her by the arm, and her eyes fall on Alec who is sipping his Bacardi, cool as a cucumber. Gunshots echo all over the place, Sarah flinches at the sound of Taylor's gun.
Alec says something, she can't hear his words, but her power mercifully fills the ringing. He wants to escape from the back entrance. Go where the car is. But what about...?
"What about her?" she says and trusts her tongue to deliver the sound. Alec shoots her a look she can't quite decipher. It's more of a condescending sort of fondness mixed with exasperation. Only it looks like he's saying, 'Are you fucking serious?' instead.
They are sticking close to the floor, underneath the smoke, and they have just reached the exit when he points back inside. Taylor is dashing around. She is everywhere, does everything. Sarah's eyes can barely follow the psycho, a bullet there, a stab here. And there's an arm flying, Sarah's power points out that the amount of limbs in the bar are an odd number with one over. Then it goes on a tangent and tells her that either a body was disintegrated or that someone was carrying an extra arm on their person.
Then it clarifies that someone was carrying an extra fucking arm on their person.
Sarah bites her lower lip and draws blood to stop the odd tangent. She can't even bring herself to feel disgusted. Meanwhile Taylor is still shooting, still killing and maiming. She doesn't scream as she always does. She's methodical, smart, hides in people's blind spots, efficiently dispatching everyone she registers as a threat.
No enjoyment. No dissatisfaction. Adrenaline induced - biological responses nominal. Dissociation? Likely —
Sarah clamps down on her power again. She doesn't want to know. She doesn't! If she learns, if sees…
She won't be able to look back, and she will empathize, and if she does that…
Likely suicidal tendencies. — …
Stop! Stop! Shut the fuck up… Sarah wants to scream but she's on that boat heading to her death and Reggie is pointing his gun at her, and underneath the fog and cold, his eyes glisten with untold glee.
He pulls the trigger.
...Considers herself dead.
In the fire underneath the smoke she keeps moving to the door, and as she looks to her left, where the fighting is, a man flies in the bar.
It's the feeling of fire in her chest that always gets to her. The smells, the colors. They are always a bit more. The screeching tires groan on the hot asphalt slow the world down. There is a commotion already and she can feel the anticipation in her gut building up. Like a valve that's been filling up for years and is now ready to release. So Taylor stands up. She tries to put a smile on her face, but she's too annoyed to even pretend at the moment. All she wanted was to drink, and get over her fuckup with the mouse.
Brian was livid, she knew. Even though he didn't yell or scowl at her. They were long past mysteries with one another. She knew that this one vein on his forehead twitches when he is ready to blow a gasket. He always sighs when he's annoyed. She takes another sip of her drink and then downs it with gusto.
The grenades fall on floor.
Taylor recognizes the model. Good quality. Not American. She doesn't have to pretend anymore. No thinking other than instincts and the dance of death. She's waiting for the music to stop, and maybe this time, there won't be a chair to sit when it stops.
Her eyes scan the room, she kicks a table before they hit the floor for a second time and they get knocked farther away from her. Taylor ducks behind a table and her ears groan at the familiar sound. The pressure hits her like a punch to the gut, but even that is familiar and so she doesn't lose her focus.
Men rush into the bar and they start shooting. Spraying really, because they don't care if they hit anyone, they aren't even aiming. She pulls her guns and starts shooting, Jamie falls down on her feet. The familiar sight of a puppet with its strings cut greets her.
Taylor knew Jamie, he hit on her once. Kinda funny. He bought her drinks whenever he was too drunk to be afraid of her. Nice guy.
Now he was a dead guy.
Jamie's ticket valid and long since punched: 'one way – no return – to Helsinki!'
Taylor jumps to the side, the bullets follow her and she mentally counts them. The first invader is about to run out, he looks down at his weapon and Taylor pulls the trigger.
His comrade/buddy/teammate looks at him with somber eyes, she shoots another round.
The third guy is tricky. He's moving and his eyes roam the place. Their eyes meet and he hides behind a corner. Taylor scowls and starts running towards him when something hits her from the left. She gasps for air, and huge arms are locking her in a bearhug. Taylor tries to kick. Guy number three takes the shot, but Taylor is clamps her thighs on the parahuman's neck. She tries to twist him to the floor but he doesn't budge an inch. A brute – she suspects.
She doesn't wait. Her shoulder gets pulled when she jumps off of the man. She's on the floor again. Her neck twists a little and she gets a look of him. He's ripped and about six feet tall. Hispanic. His eyes track her down and he floats a little.
He grabs her foot while he floats and she has no leverage to pull him down. She struggles to move, but he won't let her. A loud whistle echoes behind them, and Taylor recognizes Regent, the man's arms twitch violently and Taylor can finally move. She falls on her knees and picks up her gun.
The man tries to kick her in the spine. Break her in half. Taylor rolls away fluidly and cocks the gun. Their eyes meet and the man smiles. A condescending smile, almost a sneer.
She shoots him in the throat.
Taylor twists and rolls among the bodies and debris. There's calmness in this chaos. The parahuman stops writhing and starts hovering again. The smile still plastered on his lips.
Taylor wants to scowl, because he's one of those…
"I was hoping for a relaxing night of booze until you fuckers ruined it."
He gives her a charming smile, "My apologi—" She shoots him in the neck again.
The man doesn't fall down like before. Instead he gurgles and Taylor realizes he's laughing. The hole knits itself back together and Taylor is already running, some of his men start shooting at her and she blindly shoots back.
"People who brag or monologue. You shoot them. Twice. Bullets are a dime a dozen. No matter the aim or power, you hit them once? Shoot that little bitch twice. Just to be sure."
Mr K's voice rings in her ears and she smiles. The man has floated ahead of her and is blocking the exit, "Now that wasn't ver—"
She shoots him in the chest. Twice. Then another bullet in his throat. She debates on killing him, but she's all out of bullets. Instead she pulls out her knife and stabs it through his shoulder and into the floor. There are shots heading her way and so she runs off into the alley behind the bar.
Their car is writhed in black smoke and when she walks into it, and sits in the car she starts laughing.
They have made it halfway to the docks when Brian speaks up, "We're going back out to the sea. I've spoken with Piggot and she'll meet us tomor...—today at thirteen hundred."
"Any idea what happened back at Somer's?" Taylor asks.
"Guys looked Mexican to me. " Alec chimes in.
Brian nods, "Yes, Piggot said they are trying to get a foothold in the city. Something to do with the data on the stick. Anything you want to share Sarah?"
Sarah winces, "They work with Gesellschaft. Heinz & Heinz wants to sell a chunk of Grand line territory north of Brockton. The Cartels own a chunk of land near the U.S border. Mexico has barely any control in its territory. I think that Gesellschaft struck some sort of deal with the Cartels. Drug trade would be a lot cheaper if they could smuggle unhindered into the Americas. I assume that this Piggot or whoever, doesn't want this to happen?"
Taylor speaks up, "No, there's something else at play here. Piggot doesn't give a flying fuck about Grand line territory. What would happen to H&H if the info went public?" She asks.
"The head honchos would be tried for treason? Stocks would definitely crash and burn. But in the end H&H is a multibillion dollar industry by itself, no serious long term damage. Unless this Piggot wants to—" her eyes widen.
"Shut up." Brian hisses under his breath and the car goes silent, "Don't finish that thought. Not our business. We are just delivery boys."
"Ofcourse." Sarah scowls, "Just kidnap people on the side." she murmurs but they ignore her.
"...And my employee?" Gustav Kraus asks. The woman on the other side of the line chuckles.
"What of her?" she asks.
"She is… useful." The file is opened on his desk. The parahuman status noted down, her spout of recent efficiency and her projects. Losing her wouldn't really be a problem in any capacity. Still, he couldn't allow some backwater thug to play him like a fiddle.
"So? She's a risk"
"Heinz & Heinz isn't in the business of murder Miss Piggot. The company is deeply ashamed of Mister Simmon's missconduct, and we are willing to pay the price of our mistakes. But for the price you're asking, you better be able to provide Miss Livsey alive and well."
The woman laughs again, a slow guttural sound almost a growl, "You should call your superiors and inform them of our deal. I'll meet you tomorrow, my men will pick you up at the airport."
Kraus growls, "You are playing with fire woman, don't wonder why, when everything crumbles around you."
The line clicks and Kraus is left in his silent office.
They arrive at the docks by the crack of dawn. The sea is calm and looks like oil as it refracts the first spots of light. Sarah's head hurts and she just wants to go to bed. Instead Brian stops abruptly.
The woman is bulky. Short and wide, blonde hair tied up in a bun and an austere look on her scarred face. Brian pulls the window down, "I thought we wouldn't see you until noon."
She smiles, and Sarah is reminded of a Rottweiler right then, "Won't need to. The data?"
Brian pulls the stick out of his pocket and gives it to her. The woman's eyes meet Sarah's, "Miss Livsey, I assume?" the question was unneeded. Just being polite, her power informed her. She only nodded in response.
"I am sorry you were pulled in all of this. Sadly, we have to decide where to go from here…"
Carlos is starstruck. His body tingles all over. He's all hot and bothered.
He is choking on his blood and he can feel his lungs wrap around his heart. They start pumping blood while his heart heals. It's nothing he never felt before, but as always the pain is a bit annoying. The fact that he would have to find someone to remove the slugs out of him, and probably pay them? And he would pay them, because killing your doctor is bad form.
He crosses his head, lips, and heart, "En el nombre del Padre y del Hijo, y del Espíritu Santo. Amén."
Those eyes, that sneer.
Empty. Empty. Empty!
And she was a normal human! Damaged beyond repair. Just like him. In that lab, he became like this. He saw the same look when he looked at the doctors then. Reflected in their eyes as he crushed them. And she looked at him like that. Only she didn't really care if he lived or died. And to think! To think that Gonzales had to convince him to return to his hometown?
Glorious.
He shudders as he stands up. His entire team is lying dead and the bar they attacked is being consumed in fire. God intended for this meeting, Carlos knows. A savage grin pulls his lips apart.
Carlos takes off his clothes. He finds a guy who kinda looks like him, not as handsome of course, but god has a plan for everyone. He asks for forgiveness as he steals the clothes and dresses the corpse with his own. He empties his wallet of cash and throws it in the fire alongside his cellphone. A small hum plays on his lips as he walks out and into the masses.
It was time to move back, after all. God wanted it this way.
