Thursday night
New Year's Eve
"Say goodnight, bitch!"
I stared into the enormous muzzle of the Colt 1911 and I felt fear.
Then out of nowhere, something large flew over me and shoved the man backwards. The 'something' was snarling, wore black body armour and as I rolled over to look, I saw the animal was wearing a mask, too.
I scrambled to my feet; Kick-Ass was still fighting the sixth man. The leader, however, was on his back fighting off the snarling dog. On the side of the animal's body-armour, was a name patch: EISENHOWER. I drew my pistol, stepped forwards, and issued a command.
"Eisenhower, here!"
The dog instantly stopped trying to rip the man's throat out and she came over and stood beside me panting hard and issuing a deep, menacing growl. I gave her a friendly pat and Eisenhower stared at the man, as I approached and I aimed my pistol at his face. Beside me, I noticed Kick-Ass join me; he had obviously ended his fight successfully.
"Who the fuck are you two?" The man demanded, fear in his eyes as he looked at me.
"Me, I'm Hit Girl!"
The man then turned to my pal.
"I'm Kick-Ass!"
We tied the man up and left him for the Cops. The night was going well; we continued our patrol, with Eisenhower beside us.
This year was going to end on the perfect note.
"Good call, Damon!"
"Seemed as good a time as any," Damon, replied as he leant against the SUV.
"That doggie suit was cool," I added, leaning out the SUV window.
"I do good work at times!"
..._...
The two kids and their canine escort were eighty yards down the street from the alley where I was parked chatting with Damon. The fight had gone well, even to the point where Mindy had almost had her pretty, little head blown off. Damon had released Sophia in her alter ego of Eisenhower, just seconds before the man had raised the pistol. The dog had been straining at her leash, desperate to help her mistress.
Mindy and that dog had proved inseparable. The dog would do anything for her and for Dave, too. The dog was more than one hundred percent obedient and loyal. I was very pleased that the kids had extra support. Now they were 'qualified', their exposure to danger would steadily increase until we deemed them ready to face their ultimate targets.
"You two ready?"
"Yes, Daddy!"
"Now, what did I say you should call me when in costume, Hit Girl?"
"Sorry, err, Big Daddy!"
"Stop laughing, asshole!"
"Sorry, Damon – err, Big Daddy!" James chuckled happily.
"Thirty seconds!"
"Five, four, three, two, one!"
Monday, January 1st, 2012
"Happy New Year!" We all shouted together and Eisenhower barked, loudly.
It had been two years since our first real night out. As had done, every year since, we patrolled on New Year's Eve – keeping the City safe. Eisenhower was with us, as usual, protecting our backs. The dog often sensed criminals, a long time before we saw or even heard them!
Mindy was now a sprightly ten-year-old, not to mention a good four inches taller than before. Me? I had grown, too; five inches! I was now five months short of my thirteenth birthday and I had also broadened out quite a bit. Mindy was still her usual, slight frame, but she had muscles too; do not get me wrong on that subject.
We, that was Kick-Ass and Hit Girl, were now well known amongst the criminal fraternity. The majority of petty criminals avoided us like the plague. The serious criminals often put up a fight. Eisenhower only went out about once a month, usually on difficult patrols. We had also discovered that she had a liking for, well, a liking for dick!
..._...
Interesting how it happened, actually. Purely by chance, too.
Mindy had learnt some new words, from the internet – principally swear words; so no surprise there! One of the words was 'Schwanz', which is a German word and translated, it referred to a man's prick or his penis. Mindy, as expected, had thought it a great word and had used it one night with interesting results!
Marcus, however, had not been amused and had appeared the following morning to see Damon. I had been there at the time, too.
"Damon – what are you up to?" Marcus asked.
"No idea what you're talking about, Marcus!"
"Went to interview a man, in the hospital, last night," Marcus explained. "Had a great story to tell. Apparently, among other things, Hit Girl's dog bit him, between the legs and the dog had refused to let go until Hit Girl had given the necessary order!"
Marcus then looked directly at Mindy, who to her credit only went slightly pink; nevertheless, she said nothing. Damon just laughed.
"So, some punk had a dog on his balls!" He exclaimed, smirking at Sophia. "Who gives a shit?"
Marcus had opened his mouth to reply but paused and then shut it again.
"Never mind! It really is good to see you, Mindy – you're looking good and growing fast."
Mindy did blush, properly this time.
"She is growing," Damon admitted, glad of the change of subject. "Every time that I buy her new clothes, they last only a few weeks!"
"Stay safe, please!" Marcus implored as he left.
Between us both, we now had many notches in our belts.
We supported each other, no matter what we came across, or whatever came across us. We were the perfect team. We were supported by Mindy's Dad, who went by the alter ego of 'Big Daddy'. He wore a black costume with body armour and a long black cape. He had an armoured cowl, type helmet, which covered all but his lower face. Damon seemed to enjoy dressing up, not to mention a flair for amateur dramatics, but he was also lethal in combat and favoured using knives, pistols and explosives.
As for Dad, well he proved to be very lethal too – I myself was very surprised when I had first seen him take a life, in one swift movement, snapping the man's neck in less than a second. Dad's alter ego was 'Commando' and he wore a semi-armoured suit that was mottled green in colour and his head, and face, were covered by a balaclava style mask, of the same colour. No skin was visible. Dad was highly skilled with knives and firearms from his time in the U.S. Marines. He favoured the Ka-Bar knife and the Glock 21 pistol, chambered in .45 ACP.
..._...
It was actually rare for our Dads to fight. It was mostly left to us, kids. This was mainly for training, but whenever we went out, one or other and sometimes both of our Dads were somewhere close. Damon was a skilled sniper, and he would provide long distance support as required, with backup from Dad as required.
Now that Mindy and I were bigger, our sparring had increased in its ferocity and it was normal for both of us to be covered in bruises. Mindy herself sometimes became carried away. She often came away with a black eye or cuts to her body. As I attained higher levels of strength, I had to be careful not to put Mindy out of action.
We had both been lucky over the preceding two years. We had bruises and we had had many narrow escapes. However, narrow escapes were part of the risk, which we took each and, every time that we went out as Kick-Ass and Hit Girl.
Four weeks later
Saturday, 28th January 2012
"You take the left end of the alley, I'll take the right."
"You got it, Kick-Ass!" I responded.
It was cold out, but our suits kept us warm. The suits that Kick-Ass and I wore were not the same suits that we had worn previously. I was on my third suit and Kick-Ass was on his fourth. Dad complained constantly, but it was not our fault, that we were growing!
I crept along the alley, keeping to the shadows as always. I kept an eye out ahead of me as well as keeping any eye on where I was placing my feet to minimise noise. I knew that Kick-Ass would be approaching from the opposite end of the alley. We had been together now, for a little over five years and knew each other in intimate detail. We knew what each other was thinking and we could anticipate each other's actions.
Our targets, for that night, were the usual druggies. These, though, were the upper echelon drug-dealers and required more skill for the takedown and as a bonus, they worked for our ultimate target Frank, fucking D'Amico!
..._...
"Hey, bitches!" I growled, attracting the attention of the five men in the alley. "Which one of you assholes wants to be fucked first?"
"Tasteful as ever!" I heard Kick-Ass groan over the earpiece in my left ear. I ignored him, but I could see him, a few yards beyond the assholes.
"We're not scared of you, you jumped up little bitch!" One man called over. "You know who we work for?"
"Yeah: Frank 'I like to blow myself' D'Amico!" I called back.
"Art, Ryan. Go show this purple bitch some fucking manners!"
"You got it, boss!"
The two men advanced on Hit Girl.
She could handle them, so I moved towards the remaining threesome. There was no banter from me; it was Hit Girl, who had the flair for the amateur dramatics, just like her Dad, not to mention her flair for fancy entrances! I went straight in and knifed two of the men with a Hissatsu in each of their chests. They sank to the ground as I withdrew my blades, wiping them on the dead men's clothing.
Hit Girl was 'playing' with her targets as usual. She loved to drag things out and have fun!
"Hey, Hit Girl – stop playing and end it!" I called loudly.
The man in front of me turned rapidly to face me as Hit Girl yelled back her response.
"I never, play!" She replied, indignantly and quickly drove her bō-staff into the chest of each man before she then came over to the remaining man who stood before me.
The man turned around to stare at Hit Girl.
"You be good, now!" Hit Girl growled and whacked the man across the face with the shaft of her bō-staff.
The following morning
Central Manhattan
Big Joe exited the elevator, with Cody, and nodded to the guards before heading down the corridor.
The corridor was lined with bookshelves and opened out into a room that had a large couch and a kitchen. There were panoramic views of the City through floor to ceiling windows. Cody waited in the corridor while Frank continued onwards.
"Good morning, Frank!"
"Hey, Joe, how you doing!" Frank D'Amico replied.
"Great!"
"Coffee?"
"Maybe later, morning Ang!"
"Morning!" Angie D'Amico replied.
"Chris!"
"Morning, Joe!" Chris D'Amico replied going back to his comic.
..._...
Big Joe followed Frank D'Amico into the Boss' office and indicated for Cody to follow. D'Amico motioned for them both to sit.
"Ronnie says the guy came out of nowhere and kicked their asses, then flushed the coke down the fucking drain!" Big Joe explained.
"This would be the guy who looks like Batman?"
"He had like a mask and stuff…" Big Joe began.
"...and a cape – you know, like Batman," Cody added.
"So, let me get this straight," Frank D'Amico, mused. "That's the tenth hit in four fucking months and you're telling me that I'm being fucked in the ass by two kids, playing fucking dress up and some lunatic dressed up as fucking Batman!"
"Yeah, Boss!" Big Joe replied matter-of-factly.
"Don't forget the masked dog!" Cody dropped in.
"Jesus, fucking, Christ!"
