The Assassin: WOOHP Files
)-( - flashback
Chapter 11
By Nate Sindel
The ride in Kana's car was silent, not even the radio was on, and Nate could tell that this news was affecting her driving. In a busy city like San Francisco, one would not expect someone to run three red lights in a row, almost causing a multitude of accidents, without even a glance back.
Into the driveway of her house they pulled, and, upon exiting the car, it raised up a good six inches, having to no longer carry the burden of Nate's weight. He closed the door lightly, and followed her up the steps to the house that was built on an incline. The door was unlocked, signaling that her mother was home.
She led him down the hall to the kitchen, his memories turning back to the first time he had walked this path. But that long ago, too long to be important now, unfortunately, his mind believed otherwise. He could recall it in perfect detail, how she held his hand as she pulled him along, the smile on her face, practically ear to ear, and he had allowed her to.
'Hopefully she takes this well,' he thought as they entered the kitchen at the back of the house.
"MOM!" Kana yelled at the top of her lungs, seeing as how the kitchen was empty.
"What?" came the annoyed voice of one Lydia Carter, age 41, from down the hall to their left.
She walked into the room, towel wrapped around her ebony hair, and bathrobe covering the rest of her. Standing a little shorter than himself, Nate had always wondered how her children ended up being so short; Felicia had only been roughly 5'2", and Kana barely topped 5'3" on a good day. Her eyes flicked over to Nate, and she...smiled?
"Oh, Nate, I was wondering when you'd get here," she said in a cheery voice. "Natalie gave me a much earlier time for your arrival."
"Wha'?" was all he, or Kana, could come up with at the moment. He, though, continued, "How do you know Doctor Rivage?"
"Well, that's...complicated," the older woman sighed, looking between the two before her. "Would you mind if I changed first?"
"Fine," Nate groaned, sitting in a chair at the table.
Lydia left the room, returning to the upstairs, where squeaking in the ceiling told them that she was moving about. Kana, meanwhile, took a seat across from Nate, looking over at him, as if studying him. His eyes flicked towards her...she looked so much like her sister, it was getting harder to tell the difference. He watched as she placed her elbows on the table, propping her chin in her palms.
"Don't do that," he said, a little more tensely than he would have liked, "please."
"Do what?" she asked, innocently enough.
"Don't sit like that."
"Felicia used to sit like this, didn't she?"
"Yes," he dropped his gaze from her, loose hair moving to cover his face.
)-(
"You know, you could smile a little more," Felicia said, tugging Nate's arm closer to her. "I mean, I heard that too much frowning leads to wrinkles."
"Is that why you try to smile as much as possible?" he asked, looking down at her wide smile.
"Yup, Mom says that when you smile, it helps to make other people smile," she laid her head against his shoulder. "Makes their day just that much brighter."
Nate couldn't hold it in...he chuckled, though if you asked Felicia, it was a giggle. He turned a smiling face back to her, unhooking his arm from hers, in favor of placing it around her shoulders. As always, he was mindful of his strength, being very careful to do nothing that would cause harm.
"So, when do I get to meet her?"
"You actually want to meet my mother?" she looked at him as if he were from Mars.
"Yes, why?" he gave her the same look.
"From what I had heard, it's always hard for guys to meet their girlfriends' parents."
"And where did you hear this?" he looked up at the Golden Gate Bridge, from their place on Baker Beach.
"Mmm...places," she said with a mischievous grin.
He decided not to press the issue, attributing it to television, the mind-numbing box. The head on his slim shoulder was beginning to move, getting more comfortable. Her arm moved around his waist from behind, untucking his tank top as it went, reaching up underneath to rub his back. A sigh escaped him as he leaned into the caress.
That was when the palm was removed and only the tips of her nails were brushing along his skin, causing him to shake involuntarily. It continued for another few minutes before he burst out laughing.
)-(
"I'm back," came a sing song voice from the door, snapping Nate from his memory.
Eyes lifted to take in the woman before him, dressed in just a loose-fitting T-shirt and blue jeans. Darting to look at Kana, he saw that she had changed position, now sitting sprawled in her chair, like he was. His eyes cast back down, watching his shuffling feet.
"Well, some greeting I get," she huffed, and moved to the fridge, taking out three water bottles and placing two of them on the table.
"You never really left," Kana pointed out.
"How do you know Doctor Rivage?" Nate asked again, wanting to know how they were connected.
"Believe it or not," she paused, taking a sip of her water, "you're the reason I know her."
Devin had made some headway with Mandy, but not enough; neither one seemed too serious to let out anything important. He looked up at the clock, so far Nate/Monica had been gone for four hours, and it was getting late. They had given up on the game a few hours earlier, when Mandy had gone up to the room, feigning boredom.
"Psh, why did I have to move to San Francisco?" he asked himself, absentmindedly wiping a glass.
"Because you like to watch the lesbians make out in the park," Grace giggled, setting the empty tray down on the counter.
"Oh yeah," the tall man grinned, "I guess that is one of the bonuses."
The blonde teen looked at him, a smirk on her own face, it was good to know some things didn't change. She took a seat at the bar, undoing the apron she was wearing, and draping it over the counter. The tables were empty, no one was there but the two of them, and those who had rooms above them.
"What time is it?" she asked.
"About ten-thirty," he placed the cup in the rack under the bar. "Everybody who usually comes is out at the clubs, or something."
The sound of footsteps alerted them to Mandy's arrival, and she took a seat next to Grace.
"Monica isn't back yet, is she?" the raven-haired girl asked.
"No, and we haven't heard from her either," Devin said, placing a can of Diet Coke in front of her.
The bell over the door tinkled, and in walked Monica, looking somewhat surly, though that look evaporated when she saw Mandy. She hopped up next to her charge and placed her head on her arms, which were crossed on the counter. Nate had booted her out, reversing the merge to give them separate bodies, then left.
"Hey," the man behind the bar said casually, retrieving her Guinness. "How did it go?"
"Fine, just fine," she said, taking a sip.
Nate stood on Baker Beach, looking up at the flashing lights of the Golden Gate Bridge, the sand beneath his bare feet feeling exactly as it had that day. But, this time, there was a look of relief on his face as he sank into a sitting position; the shifter clothing having taken away the coat and suit, leaving him in a green tank and swim trunks.
He sat and remembered what Lydia had told him, what Natalie Rivage had done, and remembered why he was so relieved.
)-(
"What do you mean?" he asked the woman leaning against the counter.
"When you started dating Felicia, a woman appeared on our doorstep - actually she looked like a little girl, but that's besides the point. She told me her name, told me who she worked for, and told me about you. I let her in, since I wanted to know who was making my daughter so happy," she sighed, looking down at her water. "When she told me what you were, what you did, I was a little apprehensive...to tell the truth I was about to throw her out. Then she told me all about WOOHP, all about the good they did for the world, all the good you did. Needless to say I calmed down.
"Natalie spoke of you quite highly, almost like a mother, which I guess she is...in a roundabout way, anyway. When she left, she told me to never tell Felicia about you, that you would do that when you were ready. I accepted this, and left it alone. We became friends, she and I, and every time she's in the area, she visits, or calls. It was after Felicia's funeral that she came, she told me what had happened to her..."
"She told you that I killed her?" Nate interrupted.
"No, she told me that Jerry believed Felicia was getting in the way, that he had ordered you to kill her, believing she was counterspy. But you weren't the one that did it, you couldn't bring yourself to pull the trigger, so they had a backup sniper...he's the one that killed her, not you," she finished with a rather large gulping of water. "She was killed by someone else, someone else who worked for WOOHP, and memories were implanted to make you think you did it."
"But...it was still my fault," he hung lower in the chair.
"No," she fell to her knees in front of him, looking him in he face, "it was never your fault to love Felicia, it was never your fault."
"Indirectly it was, but the direct fault lies with Jerry," he opened his eyes, looking into the teary face before him. Turning his head, he saw Kana practically catatonic, she was facing forward, not blinking, her face white. "But don't worry, he'll get his, very soon."
With that, he stood, and turned to head for the door, hearing footfalls behind him. Turning, he saw the two women following him, almost like zombies. His hand was on the railing that lead upstairs, and, looking back as if asking for permission, Lydia nodded. He moved up the stairs, into the hall, down the hall to the door, through the door, and into the room...the room he hadn't entered in three years. It was the same.
The bed was the same, the dresser was the same, the bookshelf was the same, the clothes in the partially open closet were the same, the mess strewn across the floor in her rush to find something to wear...the same. He stepped in, moving slowly, carefully, and walked to the back corner, where there was a cubbyhole between the bookcase and the dresser. Legs practically giving out, he fell, turning as he did, until he was nestled in that space.
After being dropped off at the cemetery, Nate wandered for a little while, looking at random graves, soon he was alone. His back began to bulge, his arms as well, starting at his fingers, they began to separate, right at the tip. Once his arms were completely split, two of them his, two of them his, the other two were Monica's, the lower two placed themselves on his shoulders and started to push, forcing the bulge in his back further out. Legs separated from legs, two of the feet bracing against his, using that as added leverage for the split.
It wasn't long before Monica was standing behind Nate, fussing with her coat.
"And what brought this on?" she asked.
"I need to do some thinking, alone," he said, pulling the collar of his coat, shifting it to a tank and shorts. "Besides, Mandy is probably waiting for you to get back."
"Yeah," she sighed, finally getting her coat the way she wanted it. "You want me to take you anywhere?"
"No, I'll walk."
"Okay."
Now, here he stood, as he was before, aside from the technology copied from Monica's advanced design. It was peaceful, the waves crashing on the shore, the gentle breeze blowing in over the ocean, ruffling his hair. His hand moved along the sand, creating circle patterns and such at his side. The near inaudible sound of shifting sand caught his attention, and he turned to see who was there.
"This was one of her favorite spots," Kana said, walking up and sitting beside him.
"I know," he turned back around.
"Mom filled me in on what you are," the teen said, looking up at the bridge. "I'm sorry for what I said."
"It's alright, I was prepared for it at the time," he chuckled, placing his hand on her head and mussing her hair. "Does she know you're here?"
"Yes," she huffed, batting his hand away
"That's good," he sighed, leaning back on his elbows, looking out over the water. "But you might want to leave, it isn't safe to be around me."
"Why?"
"This isn't the time for questions, just do it," he hissed, keeping his voice low, "please."
Just as she was about to get up, he grabbed her arm and tugged her down. She was about to protest when she saw them, some sort of creature moving out of the water. And there was more movement behind them. It was then that she realized it was too late to go anywhere.
"Don't bother, you're car's been rigged," Nate said as he stood, flipping his hair over his shoulder.
"So, we've finally found you," a male voice said from behind him.
"I can't believe he would actually send you," the assassin turned, "Dean, oh, and you brought Brittany, fun."
"We've come to take you in, Jerry has some questions for you," the girl in blue said, "the girl, too."
"Really, because I have some questions for him," Nate said as he smirked, reaching for his revolver, then remembering that Monica had it. 'Oh well, guess I do this the old fashioned way.'
Looking over both shoulders, he took count of how many agents there were, ten in all, counting Dean and Brittany. He flexed his fingers, feeling the tips open ever so slightly, revealing the hidden m-lashes within each one. This was going to be a walk in the park for him, but with Kana still sitting at his feet, it was not going to be an easy walk. M-lashes tended to be sporadic, and, if you didn't control them properly, the wrong people ended up losing limbs.
One arm whipped to the side, the five lashes in his fingers whipping out, slicing the four unsuspecting agents to ribbons. The four on his other side, leveled their pulse rifles and fired, and were absorbed easily by his shield - an improved version granted to him by Monica's upgrades. Closing the lashes in one hand, he removed the disc in his arm for the shield, handing it to Kana.
"Here, this will keep you safe," he whispered, before stepping through the shield.
Not having his coat left him feeling somewhat naked, since all he had to use were his onboard weapons. M-lashes opened again, flickering towards the other four agents in black. Their shields erected, and blocked the attack, but that sent the carefully placed lash towards Dean and Brittany. They were able to get out of the way, but not without Brittany losing most of her hair.
"You bastard," she cried, leaping at him, only to have her ankle grabbed, twisted, and snapped. "AGH!"
"Fire!" Dean ordered, but the agents were hesitant; the assassin still had hold of the blue-clad spy. "Using her as a shield, that's low even for you."
Red eyes slid calmly over to the spy in darker blue, and an audible growl emanated from his throat. Dropping the girl, his arm whipped up, long blades lancing out from his palm, launching to impale the befuddled agents, killing them. He stepped over Brittany, advancing on Dean, who actually looked confident.
"Overload," Nate spoke, and there was a multitude of sparking and small explosions from Dean's person. "No gadgets allowed, okay Dane."
"It's Dean," the spy snarled.
"Whatever, Dan," he shrugged, smirking again, wider.
"Hah!" the enraged spy yelled, attempting a roundhouse kick, and having it connect.
"Is that it?" Nate asked, one eye looking at the foot that struck his head, the other on Dean. "I must say, I was expecting more from Jerry's favorite little lapdog."
"Don't call me that!" Dean hollered, his fist placing a direct hit to Nate's face.
"Really Don..."
"It's DEAN!"
"...you must have some idea of what I am, some semblance of the fact that I could snap you like a twig?" his arm snapped, up, open hand wrapping around Dean's neck, just below his jaw, lifting him off the ground. "You are completely helpless without your gadgets, pathetic."
With ease he tossed Dean a good twenty feet, towards the water, then slashed at him with his m-lashes, segmenting his body like a surgeon. One cut through his ankles, the next through his knees, the next through his manhood, then his waist, both arms, and his next. Another couple slashed and Nate felt that the former spy was ready to be fish food.
"Now then," he stooped and grabbed a sobbing Brittany by the shoulder, hauling her over to a bench near the parking lot. "You are going to sit here and think about what just happened, and I want you to think really hard. I want you to tell Jerry that I know what happened to Felicia, I want you to tell him that I'm coming for him, understand?"
"Go fuck yourself," she snapped, surprising him with such language; this was Brittany, the goody-goody-two-shoes.
"I'll take that as a yes," he said before knocking her unconscious.
Turning her over, he lifted the short crop of hair she had left, and placed a finger to the back of her head, where the neck joined it. A quick needle prick, and he placed his own transponder within her. It would grow within her brain, tapping into all parts of it, hearing site, speech, memory, among other things.
"He'd never expect my help to come from within his own ranks," Nate placed her on the bench in a sleeping position, and turned on her WOOHP distress beacon.
His business with Brittany finished, he returned to Kana, who was crouched beneath the shield, her eyes closed, and hands over her head. The power to the shield was cut, and he placed his hand on her shoulder. She unfurled slowly, looking around at the carnage around them, then at Nate, who was surprisingly calm. But they didn't have time for this moment to last, for he knew that a WOOHP CUE (Clean Up and Evacuation) squad would be there very soon.
"Come on," he said, pulling her along through the parking lot, towards her car. "Pop the hood."
"'Kay," she slid in and pulled the release.
Reaching in, he rooted around until he found what he was looking for, the small box attached to the starter. Removing the explosive and reattaching the wires, he searched for others, and found two more. He then shut the hood and walked around to the side, looking underneath, and finding nothing.
"Kana, I want you to forget what you saw here," he leaned on the open passenger window. "Don't tell your mother, or anyone else; if someone you think looks suspicious comes to your door, tell them nothing."
"Is this why you never told Felicia, because you didn't want this?" she asked, looking forward.
"This is exactly why," he turned away, "I kept her in the dark because this would happen."
"Nate, I..."
"Just go, you can't be anywhere near here when they show up," he looked at her intently, to which she nodded and started the car.
As she pulled away, he started walking north, heading for the warehouse in which his jet was still being housed. He knew they wouldn't find it, since he was the one who designed and built it, conveniently leaving out all the tracking equipment. It was there that he was going to pick up his new vehicle, his backup ride.
TBC
Ending it here, because it hurts so much.