Chapter 4

Chasing the Assassin

Callus leaped into the driver's seat of the shuttle and gunned the engine. Without thinking, Shepard jumped into the passenger's side. Callus threw him a glance, but he didn't have time to argue with him. The assassin was probably already moving.

Shepard hadn't said much in their walk along the perimeter. He asked Callus's name, but nothing more. Whether it was from respect, fear, or some other factor, Callus wasn't sure. But he was glad Shepard had the decency not to talk too much. Many humans, when in the presence of a turian, wouldn't stop talking. They'd ask about turian lifestyles, their families, what stick was always up their species ass. Callus ignored these idiots as much as he could, but Shepard didn't seem to be one of them. It didn't mean he had to like him.

The apartment complex across the river was the location the shot came from. Both soldiers saw the area at the same time, showing similar methods of training. Callus was the first to react, knowing Dhalen would want him to find his killer rather than mourn him. Whoever the assassin was, he was a damn good shot. The river was at least four miles across. The story behind the area was that a flood wiped out a large section of the city in 2106, adding to the already large amount of water. It chilled Callus slightly to think that he was driving over a section of water that used to house a hundred people, at the very least.

As the complex drew closer, Callus could see Shepard readying his pistol, a Kessler II. Fairly standard, for Alliance protocols. The turians preferred the Razor line from Kassa Fabrications, but to each their own, right? Callus readied his own Razor IV, a family heirloom. As the oldest child in his family, Dhalen had given it to him when he was ten years old. Now that he was dead, Callus supposed that he would receive his father's old Striker VII sniper rifle as well.

It wasn't hard to find the apartment where the shot was fired. The shot shattered the glass, leaving a gaping hole in the side of the building. Callus parked the shuttle next to the window and jumped into the room. Shepard quickly followed, checking his corners to ensure no one could get the drop on them. Another fairly typical Alliance maneuver. Callus was more interested in where the assassin had gone. He checked each room before a scream caused him to jerk his head to the hallway outside the apartment. Gunfire quickly followed. He ran to the door, meeting with Shepard before running into the hallway and barely catching a glimpse of him before the elevator doors closed. Callus futilely fired several shots in the assassin's direction, but the elevators were too fast to be caught in any bullet's path. He was definitely human, but other than that, Callus couldn't tell much more about him.

"Come on!" Shepard called, already running back to the shuttle. Callus followed, letting Shepard do the driving this time. This was his world, after all. He'd know how to catch the assassin in this thing better than he could. Shepard grimly obliged.

By the time they reached the bottom, the assassin was already out of the building and sprinting through the crowd. Shepard steered the shuttle toward the direction he was running and gunned the throttle, sending the soldiers speeding toward the assassin. The bastard was fast, but he was no match for the speed of the shuttle, and soon they were almost on top of him. Shepard was careful, however. It was the middle of the day, and the foot traffic in the area was high, even for Earth. Any one of them was a potential for collateral damage. Throw all of them into the mix, and the risk factor went up considerably. Shepard kept the shuttle as far away from the civilians as he could without losing sight of the assassin. He needn't have bothered. Callus could see him clearly. He opened his door and prepared his pistol, aiming for the bastard's head. Suddenly, the shuttle jerked to the left, ruining Callus's aim. "What the hell?!" he demanded, glaring at Shepard.

"Not with the civilians down there!" Shepard lectured, – at least, that's how Callus saw it – turning the shuttle back on track. Callus grumbled to himself, but holstered his pistol anyway. The assassin continued to dart through the crowds, taking every chance to try to lose them in a narrow street, only to be met by them on the other side. A last ditch effort down an alleyway turned out to be his greatest mistake, giving Callus a clear shot at him.

Shepard didn't try to stop him this time, letting him line up his shot. Callus knew better than to just pull the trigger. From the first time he'd ever learned to fire a gun, he was taught to control his shots, pick his target wisely, only fire when he was sure he would hit. He wasn't going to let grief and anger drive him to prematurely shoot and possibly miss his one chance at revenge. He let his breath out slowly, steadying the grip on his hand before squeezing the trigger. The round struck the assassin in the back, and he fell. As Shepard landed the shuttle however, the assassin jumped up and ran, faster than before, down the alleyway. This time, both Callus and Shepard opened fire, hoping to catch the assassin with any one of their bullets. They followed him around the corner of the alley and was met with a volley of gunfire from a gunship. Shepard caught a look at the symbol on the ship before diving into cover. Cerberus.

Callus apparently saw it, too, because he was now glaring at Shepard with a new ferocity. Not everyone believed that Cerberus had split from the Alliance. Some thought that they were just deep in cover, doing the things the Alliance wasn't willing to, taking responsibility for failed operations while being privately funded and approved by Alliance officials. Shepard personally thought that that ideology was ridiculous, but there were always one or two conspiracy theorists that seemed to cause problems for humanity. Saren Arterius, a turian Spectre, was one such individual. As a Spectre, an elite group of highly trained individuals who answered directly to the Council, his voice naturally carried a lot of weight with the turian public. Many humans believed that was the main reason behind the fact that they had yet to get a human on the Council. Or in the Spectres, for that matter.

Shepard shook his head slightly, not in the mood to argue. Dhalen Orion's murder put a lot on his mind, and the last thing he needed was a fight with an angry turian. He'd rather go head-to-head with a krogan first. "Come on," he said, motioning to the shuttle. "Let's report back to Commander Anderson."

Callus didn't seem crazy about the idea, but he followed anyway. On the ground where he had shot the assassin was a collapsed sniper rifle with a single bullet hole in it. The gun itself wouldn't be useful to anyone having to shoot anytime soon, but it did pose an opportunity to track the assassin. Callus picked it up and placed in the back seat of the shuttle.

Anderson greeted the two solemnly. "Any luck?" he asked, though he had a good idea of the answer.

Shepard shook his head. "I'm afraid not," he replied.

Callus held the rifle up, "We did manage to snag his rifle. If we can track where it came from, we can find him and take him down."

Anderson nodded. "We'll have some of our technicians take a look at it-"

"With all due respect, Commander," Callus said flatly, "I'd rather my own people investigate this. It was a turian who was assassinated, if you'll remember."

Anderson was taken aback by the young turians attitude, a direct contrast to his father, but managed to maintain his composure. The apple fell pretty damn far from the tree, he thought. "Of course," he said, with a slight nod toward Callus. "If you need any help, we are more than happy to assist."

Orion nodded and turned on his heels and walked away. Shepard looked after him for a moment, as perplexed as Anderson was, then turned back to the commander. "I recognized the symbol on the gunship that ambushed us. It was Cerberus. They were the ones that wanted Ambassador Orion dead."

Anderson nodded slowly. It made sense. Cerberus would do anything to give humanity an edge, even if their methods hurt the Alliance or its goals. "We need leads, Lieutenant."

Shepard looked back to where Orion had walked away. "That's going to be easier said than done, sir."

"I'll talk to Ambassador Udina." Shepard's face screwed up at the news. "I know he's not easy to get along with, but he knows how to get things done." He looked across the river, to the apartment complex Shepard an Orion had raced to after the assassination. "Get some rest, Lieutenant. I'll message you once I have more information. We're going to be very busy, very soon."