Hearts & Minds II
Daley parked the car a block beyond the address Sylia had given them. They walked back on a meandering path to scope out the neighbourhood and get an idea of the street and alley layout. The neighbourhood wasn't active, mostly wholesaler space and long term storage. After hours the streets would be dead. A perfect place for an out of the way secret location. Linna had always found Sylia's Tokyo shop/residence to be too public for her liking. Nice clothes (unfortunately too expensive), but too public.
"This place looks alright," she told Daley.
Daley agreed by nodding. "Won't have any trouble at night; roads are all straight and clear."
"Go in?"
"Around the back."
They went down a service lane and then turned right into an alley that ended with a roller door. Beside it was a smaller person-sized door that looked thick and heavy. It had an old rusty keypad that Daley felt around and flipped open - it was just a façade - where the real lock and pad was. He inserted one of the keys Sylia had handed over and punched in a number. The door unlocked and through they went.
It was dark. Linna found a light switch and turned it on revealing stairs up and down. "Which first?" she asked.
"Up. I figure what's important will be downstairs. Check out the view first." Daley responded.
"Location, location?" Linna smiled.
"Gotta have a nice skyline," Daley winked at her.
Upstairs was office space, a kitchenette, toilet and even a storeroom with two cot bunks in it.
"Does Sylia expect us to sleep here as well?" Linna said unimpressed.
The large windows were polarized and had venetian blinds. Running most of the length of the wall they had a good view down both directions of the street. Unfortunately, the building wasn't any higher than the others across the road, unable to give a top-down view.
The top down they went back down. The ground level was all cleared out for car parking. Easily big enough for the Mobile Pit and other cars, Linna thought.
Daley was right about the basement. Nigel must have already been in because Linna recognized a lot of the equipment from Sylia's. There wasn't as much, in fact the place looked totally Spartan compared to The Pit. But then, most of the equipment had been destroyed. She looked around for the hardsuits but didn't see any. The disappointment showed on her face.
"Looks like we've got some long days and nights ahead of us," Daley commented.
"Yeah, last time Sylia had everything organized already. Now that's up to us. Why is it that I always get more work." Linna sighed.
"Can't have the moments of fun without the pain, I'm afraid."
/\/\ss/\/\
Cold water helped reduce the irritating headache, but it also meant her showers were a lot shorter than she would have liked. Being head of a large corporation that kept her constantly busy, she at least thought that showering was one refuge that would not suffer. Getting wrapped in a soft towel, another for her hair, made her feel a lot better; warm and comfortable. She liked her lounging robe for the same reason. It felt good against her skin, soothing away the tension and worries, and also supplying some amusement when she appeared before others in it. It was short and always tied loose. The short moments of embarrassment, trying not to look, or get caught.
"The small things in life," Sylia said aloud to her empty suite. Maybe, if things went really well, she'd get to see how her interviewer reacted. Or Candace.
Sylia blinked. The image of her PR Head giving her appraisal - which Sylia didn't think would be too favourable considering Candace's impeccable dress sense - startled her. Sure she had deliberately flirted her body to a degree with Priss, Linna and Nene, but the way Candace appeared and looked back; if made her feel different. And a little uncomfortable. She forced her mind back to George. Since she and Nigel had drifted after Galatea and her choice to take over Genom, an important part of her own life had been empty. Hopefully that would soon change. Running a large company and keeping it alive, while trying to keep herself alive from far more dangerous threats, was a hard burden to bear. She needed something, someone, to reminder that she was a person, a woman. Alive.
/\/\ss/\/\
Kobe's Chinatown district had grown significantly after the imposement of the TQZ. Yokohama having become the main battle ground between the Chinese and local criminal syndicates over the wharfs, it was only natural that Kobe's large port would be subject to similar power struggles. Therefore it wasn't difficult for Itto and his entourage to find someone willing to help him in his little manner of removing Sylia from Genom, permanently.
The Marketing oyabun sat on an uncomfortable dark wooden chair, which surprisingly held his weight (not that he considered himself overweight), as it was delicately made. In between him and the broker opposite was an equally dark table, which had a large red and gold hexagon in the middle. The cups of tea had been taken away and consequently the smalltalk was also over. Now it was down to business.
"I must ask, Itto-sama, why you haven't approached your own countrymen for the task you have come to me with," the broker said. He was an old man. His beard was long and grey, the only hair on his head. To cover the baldness he wore a skullcap and hid a frail body beneath voluminous robes.
"What makes you think that I have not approached the Yakuza?" Itto asked in return.
"Because I would know. We all know the comings and goings of each other," the broker waved his hand in the air, "They are but little secrets. Unimportant. And if you had visited the Yakuza, then your coming here meant that they did not want to do what you had asked."
"Then why do you think that I am here?"
"Because you do not want to involve your countrymen at all. You want outsiders, foreigners. For someone to blame if your plan goes wrong. For someone not to treat as Japanese if your plan goes right." The broker smiled thinly.
"I want associates who I know can do the job." Itto responded.
"And that we can do, I am sure. What is it then that you ask of us to do?"
"I want you to kill a person. A woman."
"Wife, lover, mistress? You have power Genom-man. You do not need us to kill one person. A woman."
"Normally no. But in this case. She is no ordinary woman."
"A woman of power then? Dangerous?"
Itto scoffed. "Not dangerous. Well-known. That is why I cannot do it myself."
"She is?"
"Sylia Stingray."
/\/\ss/\/\
"What's going on, Nic?" Leon asked the Chief.
"Maintenance." 'Chief' Roland replied gruffly. Hands on hips he looked out over the RRT staging area. "All the Grasshoppers are undergoing a full checkup."
"At once?" Leon asked, incredulous.
"Yep."
"But that's crazy! Who authorized it?"
"Some fool in Administration."
"But what if something happens? If all the Grasshoppers are offline -" Leon's heat was rising fast.
"I know, I know. I'm trying to sort it out. I didn't find out until after most of the machines were being torn open and the techies won't stop without orders from above. You know how they are."
"This is ridiculous," and Leon stormed off towards the stairwell down, ready to abuse the first techie he saw with his opinion about the situation.
/\/\ss/\/\
"See you tomorrow, Nene," Kasumi waved through Nene's office door and vanished before Nene could look up from her screen and say good-bye. It was 5:30pm and time for her to leave as well.
Nene was excited. A short meeting with Sylia and an email from Linna later had her heart racing. The Knight Sabres were Go! It was about time. Sitting behind a desk was okay, for a while. She missed the thrill and adrenaline (either forgetting or not wanting to consider the danger involved as well, as young people do) of flying and fighting in her hardsuit. This time she was sure that Sylia would give her a lot more weapons. Finally, she would be able to kick butt as good as Priss and Linna! Maybe even better, she'd been practicing a lot on Tekken 16 and DOA Ultra-eXtreme Hardcore for weeks. With no Priss, she was sure to get weapons. She just had to!
Stuffing platypus into her bag she logged off and shut down her PC, and rushed out off the room to the lifts, waving energetically to the remainder of the staff looking a little overtime.
"I wonder if I should ask for a change of colour? I'm a lot older and mature now. Pink is for girls. Maybe red and purple, or black. That'll put the scare of Nene into my enemies." The blonde chortled, then looked around and made sure no one had overheard her.
/\/\ss/\/\
Sylia gave herself a critical eye in the mirror. The dress she had chosen was classy, sophisticated and daring. She liked it very much. Black, it had full length sleeves and was short. In fact she couldn't smooth it down any further than mid-way down her thigh. The neck was wide at the shoulder, and plunged deeply to a sharp V at her sternum. It wasn't indecent however, an X of black strips covered some of her exposure. Her long legs were covered with sheer stockings. Her skin was smooth and creamy, but she preferred her legs to have a shine about them. On her feet were high heels, making her legs look longer and also giving her butt a well-rounded appearance. The bandana and bandage were gone, neither complementary to her outfit. A bit of makeup had gone over the bruise and she'd teased her hair so it would hang over it more. Lastly eyeshadow was applied, giving them depth. Sylia considered her eyes to be her greatest asset. If she could catch someone else's gaze in them, they would be lost and hers. She always like to make strong eye contact with people she met for this reason as soon as possible. First impressions were important, control was more. The eyeshadow also made her eyes look sexy. Intelligent men liked intelligent eyes.
Ready, she turned away from the mirror and picked up her handbag. Like a tornado she had cleaned up her place as best she could as well, meaning everything was dumped into a cupboard. She'd never really had enough time to make the suite a mess so it wasn't a lot of stuff, but a certain giddy apprehension forced her to make it all appear as presentable as possible.
She took the elevator express to the lower level car park where her roadster waited. Maybe she'd take him for a spin before coming back. To get his heart going. The thought made her grin.
The engine roared to life. Slipping it into first she headed out, down the exit ramps and onto the dark road.
/\/\ss/\/\
Nene looked at her watch. The bus was late! Which meant she would be late, and she hated being late for anything. Especially anythings that had to do with the Knight Sabres or You Know Who as she liked to say when suspicious people (read anyone) were around.
"Hey, Nene, what are you at this stop for?"
"Huh?" Nene turned around and scowled. It was Leon.
"I thought your bus was number 43. This is for 87."
"I know that Leon log head." Nene said tersely.
"Log head?"
"I happened to walk by your office once when you were sleeping." Nene did an imitation of an aircraft engine.
"What? I don't snore and its slander if you tell anyone." Leon growled.
"This isn't your bus either. What do you want?"
"I just saw you and."
"And what? I hope you aren't stalking me. I can scream very loudly, you know."
Leon huffed. "Don't be like that. I just wanted to know if you've found out anything on Priss."
Nene's joking mood vanished. "No."
Leon was downcast. Head sagging he nodded. He hadn't expected anything else. The small piece of hope that he held grew smaller again, as it did each day. One day he knew, when all the hope was gone, he would forget. And something that had been special in his life would be gone forever.
"Okay, thanks." Leon started to walk away.
"Look, Leon." He turned around. "You'll be the first to know if we do find anything, you know that?"
Leon nodded. "Your bus is here."
So it was. Nene watched Leon walk away before hoping on. She was the only passenger. The driver was a boomer. It said 'hello' and she piped back at it, the excitement returning. She paid for a ticket and took the seat behind the driver. The bus pulled away passing Leon and leaving him far behind in moments.
/\/\ss/\/\
As Sylia's car exited the Genom building and headed towards the city another car pulled out onto the road and followed her from a block behind. There wasn't any necessity to follow the sports car and its driver, the occupants had been told where she would be going and when she would arrive. They did it only out of habit and on the off chance that their information was wrong. It wasn't.
/\/\ss/\/\
Itto looked at his watch for the umpteenth time. It wasn't time yet. He couldn't bare the wait, wanting time to rush forwards as fast as it could so his problem would be announced solved. From his liquor cabinet he pulled out a bottle full of dark brown liquid. He had called Candace, to celebrate with her, but she had left work and her phone was disengaged.
Way up high in his office he settled down on a leather couch and looked out to the spires of the city, beacons of light in the coming night.
/\/\ss/\/\
Sylia met George in the lobby of the hotel he was staying at. She smiled broadly as his face showed surprise and appreciation.
"You look. fantastic." George complemented her.
"Thank you. So do you."
George nodded. He was wearing a freshly crisped suit. Leading, Sylia slid her arm into his. "My car's outside. I'll drive us to the restaurant."
"Okay."
They walked outside where a valet was watching the car. He opened the doors for the passengers.
"Nice wheels. Fast women like fast cars." George said and Sylia laughed.
"Get in." She told him.
With Sylia at the wheel it didn't take long to reach the restaurant. It was located on the tenth floor of an extremely plush and expensive hotel/mall complex in the heart of the city. Another valet took the car and they walked arm in arm inside. At the restaurant the Maitre'd recognized Sylia instantly and whisked her to the reserved table and its glittering street and river view.
"I've never had an interview at a place like this before," George said.
"I hope you've only got a few questions to ask. I'd rather spend most of the dinner talking about other things."
"Can I ask about you, then?"
Sylia smiled coyly. "If they're not too personal."
George held up his hands in mock denial. "I'm not writing a tabloid piece if that is what you are implying. I just want to get to know you better. Who you are, what you want. Why you decided to take over Genom when -"
"When everyone said it was going to fall? Ah, the first question already." Sylia folded her arms on the table. A waiter came around and poured chilled water into glasses and left the cloth wrapped bottle on the table.
"It's the one everyone wants to know. Daughter of the boomer creator, independently wealthy, owner of a clothes store. Next day Chairwoman of Genom. What makes a woman, especially an intelligent one as yourself, take on such a difficult challenge?"
"Would you believe me that I was doing it to follow my father? To somehow live up to his name, carry on his work, now that he is dead?"
George shrugged. "I don't know. That's what I want to know. It is your answer?"
Sylia sighed. "It would be the easy answer, wouldn't it? Orphaned child seeks approval from dead parents by finishing father's work. Catchy byline isn't it?"
"That must have been hard, growing up on your own."
"It was. Money wasn't a problem. The loneliness was. Seeing Genom take my father's work and propagate it around the world with little regard. Making military boomers to fight our wars. Making them slaves. That's not what my father wanted for boomers. He saw them as something else entirely."
"You sound bitter. Did you think that Genom was corrupting your father's work?"
"We all knew what Genom was like before but no one dared to speak it aloud least you became proscribed. In answer to your question, yes I believe that I want to stop the bad Genom has done. The only way I can do that is to run it."
"It must be hard."
Sylia looked up from the table and stared directly into George's eyes.
"Very."
/\/\ss/\/\
"Knock, knock! I'm here, somebody let me in!" Nene waved her hands at the camera her little sensor pack had found. A few moments later her phone rang.
"Hello?"
"Nene, don't stand there outside an empty building waving like a lunatic."
"Gee, great to see you too, Linna."
"Come around the side and I'll let you in. The others are already here." Linna said.
"Other's who?"
The phone didn't answer. Linna had disconnected. Nene trotted down the service road and side entrance where Linna was already waiting for her. Although she wanted to, Nene didn't wave. Instead when she got inside she gave Linna a big hug that was returned after a moment of surprise.
"It's bee a long time," Nene said to Linna.
"Not that long. I wasn't even gone for two months." Linna replied.
"That's enough." Nene said cheerfully. "So is it true, we're back in action?"
"Yes."
"Great. I can't wait to see my new hardsuit."
With that Linna's face fell. "We don't have them yet. Everything is kinda in a rush. Nigel says a week."
"A week!" Nene exclaimed. "I can't wait that long. I can't go back to work and sit in my office and know that I'm a Knight Sabre again but won't be able to get into my hardsuit for a week. I'll go mad, completely mad, do you understand, Linna?" Nene rushed. She took a huge breath afterwards.
"I feel the same way but it can't be helped. There's a lot of work we have to do before everything is ready. And since you're the computer whiz you can get all the software running." Linna patted Nene on the shoulder compassionately. Daley had her rolling up her sleeves and moving heavy stuff around. She hadn't liked that at all.
"This sucks." Nene pouted.
Linna took Nene downstairs where Daley, Nigel and Mackey were setting up the support equipment. At seeing Nigel and Mackey, Nene went into a rage, rushing up to the smaller of the two and yanking his ear to get his attention.
"Oh, hi, Nene, that does hurt -"
"Silence! Why are you here? How did you get here?" Nene yelled.
"I came with Nigel."
"Then why didn't you bring me along too? I had to wait for ages and ages for a bus. And the bus was slow! A stupid boomer was driving it and they don't go over the speed limit."
"It's illegal to go over the speed limit."
"Argh!"
"And we didn't have room. The van was full of equipment for here. Isn't it great that the Knight Sabre's are back?" Mackey grinned, ignorant.
"I could have sat on your lap!" Nene yelled so loudly that everyone else stopped what they were doing and looked over at her. Instantly her face went beet red. Mackey's went pink. Nene stormed off. The others went back to work.
"Odd girl." Linna said under her breath.
/\/\ss/\/\
"I can't believe that you said that!" George was laughing heartily.
"Well I did and the Professor deserved it!" Sylia confirmed. Her own grin was rather wide and she hid it behind her hand.
The formal part of the interview was over. So was dinner. And two bottles of red. The third was half way done and the hour was late. The diners didn't care. They were chatting as newly matched couples do who like to talk, and found themselves and their interests to be the best topics. George liked the sound of Sylia's voice and laughter, and kept making her elaborate on her teenage and early adult years. He was finding that Sylia was a fascinating person indeed. He kept his own answers short and informative, not so he could find out more about her - as a reporter - but as a man interested in a woman. And Sylia did not mind. It was clear that she, both of them, were enjoying the company thoroughly.
"You know," Sylia started.
"No I don't." Geroge said quickly.
"What?"
"No I don't know what your about to say."
Sylia looked oddly at George for a moment before laughing again. "Well, let me inform you then, shall I?"
"Please do." George made a triangle with his forearms and the table and rested his face on his knuckles.
Sylia opened her mouth to continue then stopped, leaving it open. "I've forgotten what I was about to say."
"You could say anything and I would listen with rapt attention."
"Ah! That was it, scoundrel. My wonderful PR Flak said that it was a bad idea for me to have this date."
"Why so?"
"Because it would damage both our credibility."
"I think I understand. The Flak is worried that the media will think that you have bought me off?"
Sylia nodded. "I don't know how that idea got into her head."
"Well," George leaned back, "if that's right then you got me cheap."
"Eating here is quite expensive, I'll let you know."
"I'm sure," something caught Georges eye and he turned to face it.
"What?" Sylia inquired, following.
"If this is a high class restaurant then I wonder how they got in." He pointed to a trio of men in bright shirts and jeans who were threading between the tables. They were all carrying shoulder packs. And heading towards their part of the restaurant.
"I don't like this." Sylia said. "They look like trouble."
To prove Sylia's point the lead of the trio opened his bag and pulled out a stub nosed submachine guns
"Get down!" Sylia screamed.
The bottles on the table exploded into clear shards as steams of bullets smashed through them. A fork went spinning into the air, bent. A knife flashed off the table to skitter across another's. Wood chips, torn towel, flew into the air. The back of George's chair flew apart. If he hadn't scurried beneath the table he would have been killed.
"What the hell?" he yelled at Sylia.
"It's me!" Sylia cried. They were after her. She was sure of it. Her enemies were getting brazen to attack her in a crowded restaurant. They might still be successful. Above her head the table rocked under the impact.
The firing stopped. The screaming of the patrons started. Sylia peaked out and snapped her head down as a bullet smacked into the window behind her. She heard cursing.
"It's jammed. Come on."
Grabbing George's arm she rushed with him to the toilets. Earlier she had gone there and noticed an exit sign. Her way out. The assassins yelled and guns were in all their hands. The diners began their panic driven rout and streamed for the exit. Other's stayed put. When the assassins fired again they caught a terrified couple in their fire, sending their jerking bodies backwards in sprays of blood. Their deaths allowed Sylia to get behind cover.
"Quickly!" she urged.
"What's going on?"
"No time, run."
They sprinted down the corridor to the exit. It started to open. Sylia could see a muzzle through the crack. She slammed into the door with her shoulder. The door flew back and struck another assassin behind it. Pain raced along her arm. It had gone numb. Slipping through the gap she saw the stunned assassin. He was alone. She kicked him hard in the head and he went down cold.
"Holy shit!" George exclaimed. He was in it again. Trouble followed this woman like a curse.
"Don't stop, they'll be behind us." Sylia pulled off her heels and hiked her dress to her waist. Down, it was long enough to make running difficult. She needed her legs unhindered. At any other time George would have focused on her legs and hips. Not when his life was in jeopardy.
"Well get the elevator next floor down. Hurry."
The stairwell was close by and they speed down it to the nineteenth floor.
"Why don't we go down them all?" George asked.
"Too far." Sylia could feel the loss of breath already. She wasn't fit anymore. "When they spot us in it they can get someone down below us faster and then cut off both directions. Do you have a phone?"
"No."
"Shit."
"We need one."
They exited the stairs. Sylia saw a man standing by the lifts and ran up to him. He was in a suit so he wasn't another assassin. That didn't stop her from throwing him up against the wall and searching through his pockets for a phone.
"Hey, what, help!"
She pulled out the phone and stabbed the lift's down button. Looking up she could see that most of the lifts were heading up.
"C'mon, c'mon," she urged.
The stairwell door burst open. Out came assassins.
George hurled himself and Sylia into the empty lift as the doors opened.
"Close it!" Sylia shouted.
George got her and spun around. The wall by the door was a puzzle of buttons. His hand reached out. He searched for the right button. He found it. His finger started forward. Bodies began to emerge from the hallway. His finger touched it. The button flashed. A chime sounded. The assassins turned towards the lift. The doors started to close. The guns aimed.
They fired.
George's head vanished.
The doors closed.
"No!" Sylia screamed, horrified.
Thick rivers of blood ran down the semi-circle glass wall of the lift. The reporter's body collapsed to the ground, more blood flowing out of it in sheets. Sylia screamed again and again. Her hands shook in front of her trembling mouth. Never had she seen a human die like that before. Never so close. She had killed boomers, seen the first Sabre girls die. Never so personally. The overwhelming drive of hatred against boomers wasn't at work now. There was no death because of the cause. It was her fault. She could feel the beginning of tears stinging her eyes.
The phone was in her hands. Concrete. Fumbling she entered the number.
/\/\ss/\/\
Linna's phone was on the table and in a different room. Weakly she heard it go ring.
"Almost there," Daley told her.
They were wiring together two separate pieces of monitoring equipment. One part was against the wall. Daley was working at the delicate wiring while Linna pushed the second part against the first so they would be joined closely.
The ringing of the phone was like a mosquito buzzing close to Linna's face. She didn't know who would be calling her at this hour. "Someone get that, it's in the storeroom." Looking around she saw that the room was empty. The others were upstairs.
"Done. Hey wait -"
Linna let go as soon as Daley spoke. The phone continued to ring. Somehow Linna felt that it was urgent. An old connection. She jogged into the room and picked up the phone.
"Hello?"
/\/\ss/\/\
"Linna!"
"Sylia, is that you?"
"Yes. Linna, you've got to get help. Someone is trying to kill me. They killed George. His dead. It's my fault."
"Sylia! Where are you, we'll come right away."
"The Pelican, city. Get help. There's at least four and they have automatic weapons."
"I'll call the RRT right away."
"Hurry. I'm in a lift now. I may have to run." Or find her car. It was fast. She could get away. If they didn't have a man there waiting for her. She couldn't risk it.
She looked up and saw another lift coming down. Bodies were pressed up against the glass. It was the assassins. One of them was on a phone. Calling others to let them know where she was. Making their plan. She looked down. Too slowly was the ground coming closer. All about her the night city was bright, lights reflected off the glass.
Glass.
Oh no.
Sylia leapt against the door as the glass above and around her shattered. It rained down over her. Her hair and hands fell over her face, covering. George's lifeless body shook. Holes appeared in the floor a few inches away from her. They couldn't see her huddled against the door.
She scrambled up on her knees. Broken glass had cut the back of her hands and her legs. Taut, her stockings had split wide open in various places along her legs. Blood welled out.
The floor numbers counted down. Just after eight she quickly hit the button for seven. The lift came to a stop and using fear inspired strength she helped the doors open and threw herself out as bullets raced through the emptiness where she had been.
Aching feet speed her down the corridor. She knew that the assassins would drop off at least one person on the sixth floor. She headed for the far stairwell and crashed through it. No time was spared for looking up. She literally jumped from landing to landing. Pain raced up her legs from the shock landing. Down and down she went.
/\/\ss/\/\
The only vehicle they had was the van. It had to do. Leaving behind the others, Daley and Linna put the peddle to the floor and raced towards the city. They knew they wouldn't get there in time to make a difference. Linna was on the phone to the RRT.
"What the hell do you mean that none of the Grashoppers are ready?" she was nearly screaming.
"They're under maintenance. It's a total fubar."
"No kidding its fucked up! Get anything out there yesterday!" Linna threw the phone against the windshield.
"What's going on?" Daley asked, worried.
"They can't help. They're all being repaired. Fuck! No Grasshoppers. No hardsuits. Sylia needs us!"
"Jesus. The Police will get there right away. We have to hope that they can handle it." Daley said.
"That doesn't matter. This shouldn't be happening."
Daley wished there was someway he could comfort the woman. As a member of the Knight Sabres, she and Sylia were close. He could clearly see how frightened she was. Unable to help. Too far away. Going to be late.
"Come on car, faster." Daley urged.
/\/\ss/\/\
"It'll be at least an hour to even get one Grasshopper operational again, Sir." A techie said to Roland, nervously.
"You've got five minutes or heads will roll. Now move!" the Chief bellowed. The techie scurried away. "And I want the head of the fuckwhit who ordered this mess!"
/\/\ss/\/\
A bullet clanged off the railing near Sylia's hand. She snatched it to her chest. They were coming down from above her.
She reached the next floor and yanked the door open and header the other stairs. She reached them the time the assassin came out into the hallway and as another almost ran right into her.
For a moment they were both too startled to move. Then reflexes and hate driven speed sent Sylia into rapid motion. She headbutted the assassin, making him reel back, and then thrust a knee into his groin. He doubled over and she slapped the back of his neck hard, kneed him again, and shoved him into the doorway. His gun was on the ground, just a pistol, and she picked it up and shot him in the face.
Only three more flights to go.
She ran down the stairs as fast as she could.
/\/\ss/\/\
Outside police cars screeched to a halt. Dozens of lights were flashing. A cordon was being set.
/\/\ss/\/\
First floor. One more to go. Sylia burst through the stairwell again and into a hallway. On this level there were shops. The shopping centre covered most of the block. There was no way any assassins would be on the other side. Panting and sweating hard she pushed for escape.
She spilled out of the corridor into a wide avenue. Glass storefronts ran in all directions. Behind her a pane shattered. The crack of the gunshot reached her soon after. They were still there. She didn't look back. She ran.
The assassins didn't yell at her, didn't call for her to stop or surrender. She could hear them running after her. Just as tired they had to be. But they could see her. They had guns. The one bullet required to kill her could come at any time.
Many did but none hit her.
A corner came and she took it. It was safety. A crossroad approached quickly. She would go left. That way was out.
The enemy had figured it out too. Just as she reached it an assassin came into view. His face was flushed with exertion. She let her legs fly out from beneath her and she fell onto her back, skidding along the smooth polished tile. The assassin's reflex shots went high. Centreing the man at the end of her gun she fired twice. He jerked backwards and fell into glass. As he slid down he left behind a wide band of red.
Sylia scrambled back onto her feet. No one else was coming. She headed left. Now there was yelling behind her. Not to let her get away. Another corner. Right. She was running along the wall and could see the street below. It was too far to jump. Cars and people went by without any knowledge of her plight.
Then she saw the awning. Twenty metres ahead. Calling for her last reserves she bent her head down, lengthened her stride, and pumped her arms.
The distance closed rapidly. She lifted her gun hand. It jerked up and down. She didn't care. She fired. The glass cracked, large spider webs appearing. It didn't break. Mortified she hoped that it wasn't bulletproof.
They were behind her again.
There was only one thing to do.
Screaming, arms in front of her face, Sylia leapt at the window. Like a thousand stars in the sky it broke and she passed through. She fell sideways onto the awning and bounced. The road appeared again. Vanished. She hit the awning's railing. All air exploded out of her lungs. She rolled over.
Fell onto a man standing beneath. He cushioned her fall.
People shouted and ran towards her. Hands helped her up.
"Get away!" she yelled and waved her gun. The hands let go. She couldn't see. Everything was blurry. Her mouth was bitter. She had to keep running. She wasn't safe.
/\/\ss/\/\
"How long dammit!" Linna said frantically.
"Ten minutes."
/\/\ss/\/\
Sylia kept the awning above her until it ran out. She kept close to the wall. Around her she could hear the wailing of police sirens. She kept running, didn't know how far, didn't want to stop. Just wanted to keep running, to run away from what had happened, what she was, was she was doing. The only thing she saw was the single frame image of George wobbling on unsteady legs, head gone.
Bright light filled he eyes and she felt the world spinning.
/\/\ss/\/\
Daley drove the van up to the police line. They got out and pulled out their Genom badges. The cop on the line recognized Daley and let them through.
"I see Roland and Leon over there," Linna pointed out.
"And Sylia."
They ran over.
Linna rushed up to Sylia and hugged her tightly. She was a mess. Tears had made her makeup run in dark streaks down her cheeks, her hair was a mess, dress dirty and cuts and bruises covered her legs. Linna didn't say anything, just sobbed into Sylia's shoulder. Sylia held onto her just as tightly. Her tears were finished.
"What the hell happened?" Daley asked Leon.
"Another assassination attempt. Professionals this time. Three were killed, the cops got one trying to sneak out. Sylia must have got the others. She doesn't know how many there were, so they probably escaped."
"From?"
"Don't know yet. The dead assassin's haven't been tagged yet."
"What the hell happened with the RRT?"
Leon's face turned black. "I don't know. Some maintenance order that none of us knew about. They were all out of action. We suited up in body armour and took the VTOL. It was over before we arrived. What the hell is going on Daley, who wants her dead so bad?"
"I don't know, Leon. I don't know." Daley looked at his boss. In her condition she looked pathetic. A total wreck, not the strong confident woman he usually saw her. Not the toughened Knight Sabre. He looked away. It was a sight he didn't want to remember. Police cars, ambulances and media vehicles filled the road. Genom was headline news again. He had only just returned to Japan, landed feet first immediately in the bog. Sylia's suspicions were now more concrete than ever. This was the second attempt on her life in less than that many weeks. The first had been internal. He didn't rule out that this was - however behind the first plot deciding to get professional help outside. Three or more assassins, it was likely they were hired from one of the gangs or syndicates. Or a rival. The insider could be a mole.
The former ADP detective ran a hand through his hair. The mess was complicated, full of angles. Whoever was behind it was moving fast. To proceed with an attack so openly. one that Sylia was alive by a miracle of luck. They wanted her dead and fast. Publicity didn't matter. Who then? Why? Where they after just her, or Genom as well? Possibilities ran through his active mind. Too many. He stored them away for later when he had the time to think through them properly. The matter was so important that he couldn't run any decision or forget a variable. But he couldn't take his time either. Sylia was in mortal danger. The next attack could come at any time.
"Okay, lets get her out of here. Sweep her apartment down, do a full sweep of the Genom building," he told Leon.
"It was never this bad in Tokyo." Leon said.
"No, it wasn't."
/\/\ss/\/\
Itto slammed the phone's receiver down. She was alive! Still. Somehow. The Chinese had failed. They'd try again, the broker had said. Their way. Secretly. Not in the open. Bah, fools. A few men was worth her death. He had paid them enough for it. At least there was no chance of it coming back to him. The attack would also take the importance off the investigation on Satoshi. Still, time was running out. He had to be in charge before the announcement for the tender rights to the TQZ Reconstruction were issued.
/\/\ss/\/\
The Wind Master put the phone receiver down. Itto was not happy that Sylia was alive, but that was what he had expected. Sylia had shown great courage and resourcefulness to escape without assistance. Good for her. The cost to him had been minor, half a dozen men. The three that had escaped would have to be killed. The return however would be worth it. He had Itto. The Marketing Director, probably responsible for the other troubles at Genom, would have to use his Tong or risk his part of the assassination attempt becoming public. Foolishly, thinking that he could control the Tong, Itto had not gone to the Yakuza, where his request would have been more successfully carried out. No, the Tong was its own master. The door was again open.
Holding up a coin with a square hole in it, the ancient Wind Master smiled.
Daley parked the car a block beyond the address Sylia had given them. They walked back on a meandering path to scope out the neighbourhood and get an idea of the street and alley layout. The neighbourhood wasn't active, mostly wholesaler space and long term storage. After hours the streets would be dead. A perfect place for an out of the way secret location. Linna had always found Sylia's Tokyo shop/residence to be too public for her liking. Nice clothes (unfortunately too expensive), but too public.
"This place looks alright," she told Daley.
Daley agreed by nodding. "Won't have any trouble at night; roads are all straight and clear."
"Go in?"
"Around the back."
They went down a service lane and then turned right into an alley that ended with a roller door. Beside it was a smaller person-sized door that looked thick and heavy. It had an old rusty keypad that Daley felt around and flipped open - it was just a façade - where the real lock and pad was. He inserted one of the keys Sylia had handed over and punched in a number. The door unlocked and through they went.
It was dark. Linna found a light switch and turned it on revealing stairs up and down. "Which first?" she asked.
"Up. I figure what's important will be downstairs. Check out the view first." Daley responded.
"Location, location?" Linna smiled.
"Gotta have a nice skyline," Daley winked at her.
Upstairs was office space, a kitchenette, toilet and even a storeroom with two cot bunks in it.
"Does Sylia expect us to sleep here as well?" Linna said unimpressed.
The large windows were polarized and had venetian blinds. Running most of the length of the wall they had a good view down both directions of the street. Unfortunately, the building wasn't any higher than the others across the road, unable to give a top-down view.
The top down they went back down. The ground level was all cleared out for car parking. Easily big enough for the Mobile Pit and other cars, Linna thought.
Daley was right about the basement. Nigel must have already been in because Linna recognized a lot of the equipment from Sylia's. There wasn't as much, in fact the place looked totally Spartan compared to The Pit. But then, most of the equipment had been destroyed. She looked around for the hardsuits but didn't see any. The disappointment showed on her face.
"Looks like we've got some long days and nights ahead of us," Daley commented.
"Yeah, last time Sylia had everything organized already. Now that's up to us. Why is it that I always get more work." Linna sighed.
"Can't have the moments of fun without the pain, I'm afraid."
/\/\ss/\/\
Cold water helped reduce the irritating headache, but it also meant her showers were a lot shorter than she would have liked. Being head of a large corporation that kept her constantly busy, she at least thought that showering was one refuge that would not suffer. Getting wrapped in a soft towel, another for her hair, made her feel a lot better; warm and comfortable. She liked her lounging robe for the same reason. It felt good against her skin, soothing away the tension and worries, and also supplying some amusement when she appeared before others in it. It was short and always tied loose. The short moments of embarrassment, trying not to look, or get caught.
"The small things in life," Sylia said aloud to her empty suite. Maybe, if things went really well, she'd get to see how her interviewer reacted. Or Candace.
Sylia blinked. The image of her PR Head giving her appraisal - which Sylia didn't think would be too favourable considering Candace's impeccable dress sense - startled her. Sure she had deliberately flirted her body to a degree with Priss, Linna and Nene, but the way Candace appeared and looked back; if made her feel different. And a little uncomfortable. She forced her mind back to George. Since she and Nigel had drifted after Galatea and her choice to take over Genom, an important part of her own life had been empty. Hopefully that would soon change. Running a large company and keeping it alive, while trying to keep herself alive from far more dangerous threats, was a hard burden to bear. She needed something, someone, to reminder that she was a person, a woman. Alive.
/\/\ss/\/\
Kobe's Chinatown district had grown significantly after the imposement of the TQZ. Yokohama having become the main battle ground between the Chinese and local criminal syndicates over the wharfs, it was only natural that Kobe's large port would be subject to similar power struggles. Therefore it wasn't difficult for Itto and his entourage to find someone willing to help him in his little manner of removing Sylia from Genom, permanently.
The Marketing oyabun sat on an uncomfortable dark wooden chair, which surprisingly held his weight (not that he considered himself overweight), as it was delicately made. In between him and the broker opposite was an equally dark table, which had a large red and gold hexagon in the middle. The cups of tea had been taken away and consequently the smalltalk was also over. Now it was down to business.
"I must ask, Itto-sama, why you haven't approached your own countrymen for the task you have come to me with," the broker said. He was an old man. His beard was long and grey, the only hair on his head. To cover the baldness he wore a skullcap and hid a frail body beneath voluminous robes.
"What makes you think that I have not approached the Yakuza?" Itto asked in return.
"Because I would know. We all know the comings and goings of each other," the broker waved his hand in the air, "They are but little secrets. Unimportant. And if you had visited the Yakuza, then your coming here meant that they did not want to do what you had asked."
"Then why do you think that I am here?"
"Because you do not want to involve your countrymen at all. You want outsiders, foreigners. For someone to blame if your plan goes wrong. For someone not to treat as Japanese if your plan goes right." The broker smiled thinly.
"I want associates who I know can do the job." Itto responded.
"And that we can do, I am sure. What is it then that you ask of us to do?"
"I want you to kill a person. A woman."
"Wife, lover, mistress? You have power Genom-man. You do not need us to kill one person. A woman."
"Normally no. But in this case. She is no ordinary woman."
"A woman of power then? Dangerous?"
Itto scoffed. "Not dangerous. Well-known. That is why I cannot do it myself."
"She is?"
"Sylia Stingray."
/\/\ss/\/\
"What's going on, Nic?" Leon asked the Chief.
"Maintenance." 'Chief' Roland replied gruffly. Hands on hips he looked out over the RRT staging area. "All the Grasshoppers are undergoing a full checkup."
"At once?" Leon asked, incredulous.
"Yep."
"But that's crazy! Who authorized it?"
"Some fool in Administration."
"But what if something happens? If all the Grasshoppers are offline -" Leon's heat was rising fast.
"I know, I know. I'm trying to sort it out. I didn't find out until after most of the machines were being torn open and the techies won't stop without orders from above. You know how they are."
"This is ridiculous," and Leon stormed off towards the stairwell down, ready to abuse the first techie he saw with his opinion about the situation.
/\/\ss/\/\
"See you tomorrow, Nene," Kasumi waved through Nene's office door and vanished before Nene could look up from her screen and say good-bye. It was 5:30pm and time for her to leave as well.
Nene was excited. A short meeting with Sylia and an email from Linna later had her heart racing. The Knight Sabres were Go! It was about time. Sitting behind a desk was okay, for a while. She missed the thrill and adrenaline (either forgetting or not wanting to consider the danger involved as well, as young people do) of flying and fighting in her hardsuit. This time she was sure that Sylia would give her a lot more weapons. Finally, she would be able to kick butt as good as Priss and Linna! Maybe even better, she'd been practicing a lot on Tekken 16 and DOA Ultra-eXtreme Hardcore for weeks. With no Priss, she was sure to get weapons. She just had to!
Stuffing platypus into her bag she logged off and shut down her PC, and rushed out off the room to the lifts, waving energetically to the remainder of the staff looking a little overtime.
"I wonder if I should ask for a change of colour? I'm a lot older and mature now. Pink is for girls. Maybe red and purple, or black. That'll put the scare of Nene into my enemies." The blonde chortled, then looked around and made sure no one had overheard her.
/\/\ss/\/\
Sylia gave herself a critical eye in the mirror. The dress she had chosen was classy, sophisticated and daring. She liked it very much. Black, it had full length sleeves and was short. In fact she couldn't smooth it down any further than mid-way down her thigh. The neck was wide at the shoulder, and plunged deeply to a sharp V at her sternum. It wasn't indecent however, an X of black strips covered some of her exposure. Her long legs were covered with sheer stockings. Her skin was smooth and creamy, but she preferred her legs to have a shine about them. On her feet were high heels, making her legs look longer and also giving her butt a well-rounded appearance. The bandana and bandage were gone, neither complementary to her outfit. A bit of makeup had gone over the bruise and she'd teased her hair so it would hang over it more. Lastly eyeshadow was applied, giving them depth. Sylia considered her eyes to be her greatest asset. If she could catch someone else's gaze in them, they would be lost and hers. She always like to make strong eye contact with people she met for this reason as soon as possible. First impressions were important, control was more. The eyeshadow also made her eyes look sexy. Intelligent men liked intelligent eyes.
Ready, she turned away from the mirror and picked up her handbag. Like a tornado she had cleaned up her place as best she could as well, meaning everything was dumped into a cupboard. She'd never really had enough time to make the suite a mess so it wasn't a lot of stuff, but a certain giddy apprehension forced her to make it all appear as presentable as possible.
She took the elevator express to the lower level car park where her roadster waited. Maybe she'd take him for a spin before coming back. To get his heart going. The thought made her grin.
The engine roared to life. Slipping it into first she headed out, down the exit ramps and onto the dark road.
/\/\ss/\/\
Nene looked at her watch. The bus was late! Which meant she would be late, and she hated being late for anything. Especially anythings that had to do with the Knight Sabres or You Know Who as she liked to say when suspicious people (read anyone) were around.
"Hey, Nene, what are you at this stop for?"
"Huh?" Nene turned around and scowled. It was Leon.
"I thought your bus was number 43. This is for 87."
"I know that Leon log head." Nene said tersely.
"Log head?"
"I happened to walk by your office once when you were sleeping." Nene did an imitation of an aircraft engine.
"What? I don't snore and its slander if you tell anyone." Leon growled.
"This isn't your bus either. What do you want?"
"I just saw you and."
"And what? I hope you aren't stalking me. I can scream very loudly, you know."
Leon huffed. "Don't be like that. I just wanted to know if you've found out anything on Priss."
Nene's joking mood vanished. "No."
Leon was downcast. Head sagging he nodded. He hadn't expected anything else. The small piece of hope that he held grew smaller again, as it did each day. One day he knew, when all the hope was gone, he would forget. And something that had been special in his life would be gone forever.
"Okay, thanks." Leon started to walk away.
"Look, Leon." He turned around. "You'll be the first to know if we do find anything, you know that?"
Leon nodded. "Your bus is here."
So it was. Nene watched Leon walk away before hoping on. She was the only passenger. The driver was a boomer. It said 'hello' and she piped back at it, the excitement returning. She paid for a ticket and took the seat behind the driver. The bus pulled away passing Leon and leaving him far behind in moments.
/\/\ss/\/\
As Sylia's car exited the Genom building and headed towards the city another car pulled out onto the road and followed her from a block behind. There wasn't any necessity to follow the sports car and its driver, the occupants had been told where she would be going and when she would arrive. They did it only out of habit and on the off chance that their information was wrong. It wasn't.
/\/\ss/\/\
Itto looked at his watch for the umpteenth time. It wasn't time yet. He couldn't bare the wait, wanting time to rush forwards as fast as it could so his problem would be announced solved. From his liquor cabinet he pulled out a bottle full of dark brown liquid. He had called Candace, to celebrate with her, but she had left work and her phone was disengaged.
Way up high in his office he settled down on a leather couch and looked out to the spires of the city, beacons of light in the coming night.
/\/\ss/\/\
Sylia met George in the lobby of the hotel he was staying at. She smiled broadly as his face showed surprise and appreciation.
"You look. fantastic." George complemented her.
"Thank you. So do you."
George nodded. He was wearing a freshly crisped suit. Leading, Sylia slid her arm into his. "My car's outside. I'll drive us to the restaurant."
"Okay."
They walked outside where a valet was watching the car. He opened the doors for the passengers.
"Nice wheels. Fast women like fast cars." George said and Sylia laughed.
"Get in." She told him.
With Sylia at the wheel it didn't take long to reach the restaurant. It was located on the tenth floor of an extremely plush and expensive hotel/mall complex in the heart of the city. Another valet took the car and they walked arm in arm inside. At the restaurant the Maitre'd recognized Sylia instantly and whisked her to the reserved table and its glittering street and river view.
"I've never had an interview at a place like this before," George said.
"I hope you've only got a few questions to ask. I'd rather spend most of the dinner talking about other things."
"Can I ask about you, then?"
Sylia smiled coyly. "If they're not too personal."
George held up his hands in mock denial. "I'm not writing a tabloid piece if that is what you are implying. I just want to get to know you better. Who you are, what you want. Why you decided to take over Genom when -"
"When everyone said it was going to fall? Ah, the first question already." Sylia folded her arms on the table. A waiter came around and poured chilled water into glasses and left the cloth wrapped bottle on the table.
"It's the one everyone wants to know. Daughter of the boomer creator, independently wealthy, owner of a clothes store. Next day Chairwoman of Genom. What makes a woman, especially an intelligent one as yourself, take on such a difficult challenge?"
"Would you believe me that I was doing it to follow my father? To somehow live up to his name, carry on his work, now that he is dead?"
George shrugged. "I don't know. That's what I want to know. It is your answer?"
Sylia sighed. "It would be the easy answer, wouldn't it? Orphaned child seeks approval from dead parents by finishing father's work. Catchy byline isn't it?"
"That must have been hard, growing up on your own."
"It was. Money wasn't a problem. The loneliness was. Seeing Genom take my father's work and propagate it around the world with little regard. Making military boomers to fight our wars. Making them slaves. That's not what my father wanted for boomers. He saw them as something else entirely."
"You sound bitter. Did you think that Genom was corrupting your father's work?"
"We all knew what Genom was like before but no one dared to speak it aloud least you became proscribed. In answer to your question, yes I believe that I want to stop the bad Genom has done. The only way I can do that is to run it."
"It must be hard."
Sylia looked up from the table and stared directly into George's eyes.
"Very."
/\/\ss/\/\
"Knock, knock! I'm here, somebody let me in!" Nene waved her hands at the camera her little sensor pack had found. A few moments later her phone rang.
"Hello?"
"Nene, don't stand there outside an empty building waving like a lunatic."
"Gee, great to see you too, Linna."
"Come around the side and I'll let you in. The others are already here." Linna said.
"Other's who?"
The phone didn't answer. Linna had disconnected. Nene trotted down the service road and side entrance where Linna was already waiting for her. Although she wanted to, Nene didn't wave. Instead when she got inside she gave Linna a big hug that was returned after a moment of surprise.
"It's bee a long time," Nene said to Linna.
"Not that long. I wasn't even gone for two months." Linna replied.
"That's enough." Nene said cheerfully. "So is it true, we're back in action?"
"Yes."
"Great. I can't wait to see my new hardsuit."
With that Linna's face fell. "We don't have them yet. Everything is kinda in a rush. Nigel says a week."
"A week!" Nene exclaimed. "I can't wait that long. I can't go back to work and sit in my office and know that I'm a Knight Sabre again but won't be able to get into my hardsuit for a week. I'll go mad, completely mad, do you understand, Linna?" Nene rushed. She took a huge breath afterwards.
"I feel the same way but it can't be helped. There's a lot of work we have to do before everything is ready. And since you're the computer whiz you can get all the software running." Linna patted Nene on the shoulder compassionately. Daley had her rolling up her sleeves and moving heavy stuff around. She hadn't liked that at all.
"This sucks." Nene pouted.
Linna took Nene downstairs where Daley, Nigel and Mackey were setting up the support equipment. At seeing Nigel and Mackey, Nene went into a rage, rushing up to the smaller of the two and yanking his ear to get his attention.
"Oh, hi, Nene, that does hurt -"
"Silence! Why are you here? How did you get here?" Nene yelled.
"I came with Nigel."
"Then why didn't you bring me along too? I had to wait for ages and ages for a bus. And the bus was slow! A stupid boomer was driving it and they don't go over the speed limit."
"It's illegal to go over the speed limit."
"Argh!"
"And we didn't have room. The van was full of equipment for here. Isn't it great that the Knight Sabre's are back?" Mackey grinned, ignorant.
"I could have sat on your lap!" Nene yelled so loudly that everyone else stopped what they were doing and looked over at her. Instantly her face went beet red. Mackey's went pink. Nene stormed off. The others went back to work.
"Odd girl." Linna said under her breath.
/\/\ss/\/\
"I can't believe that you said that!" George was laughing heartily.
"Well I did and the Professor deserved it!" Sylia confirmed. Her own grin was rather wide and she hid it behind her hand.
The formal part of the interview was over. So was dinner. And two bottles of red. The third was half way done and the hour was late. The diners didn't care. They were chatting as newly matched couples do who like to talk, and found themselves and their interests to be the best topics. George liked the sound of Sylia's voice and laughter, and kept making her elaborate on her teenage and early adult years. He was finding that Sylia was a fascinating person indeed. He kept his own answers short and informative, not so he could find out more about her - as a reporter - but as a man interested in a woman. And Sylia did not mind. It was clear that she, both of them, were enjoying the company thoroughly.
"You know," Sylia started.
"No I don't." Geroge said quickly.
"What?"
"No I don't know what your about to say."
Sylia looked oddly at George for a moment before laughing again. "Well, let me inform you then, shall I?"
"Please do." George made a triangle with his forearms and the table and rested his face on his knuckles.
Sylia opened her mouth to continue then stopped, leaving it open. "I've forgotten what I was about to say."
"You could say anything and I would listen with rapt attention."
"Ah! That was it, scoundrel. My wonderful PR Flak said that it was a bad idea for me to have this date."
"Why so?"
"Because it would damage both our credibility."
"I think I understand. The Flak is worried that the media will think that you have bought me off?"
Sylia nodded. "I don't know how that idea got into her head."
"Well," George leaned back, "if that's right then you got me cheap."
"Eating here is quite expensive, I'll let you know."
"I'm sure," something caught Georges eye and he turned to face it.
"What?" Sylia inquired, following.
"If this is a high class restaurant then I wonder how they got in." He pointed to a trio of men in bright shirts and jeans who were threading between the tables. They were all carrying shoulder packs. And heading towards their part of the restaurant.
"I don't like this." Sylia said. "They look like trouble."
To prove Sylia's point the lead of the trio opened his bag and pulled out a stub nosed submachine guns
"Get down!" Sylia screamed.
The bottles on the table exploded into clear shards as steams of bullets smashed through them. A fork went spinning into the air, bent. A knife flashed off the table to skitter across another's. Wood chips, torn towel, flew into the air. The back of George's chair flew apart. If he hadn't scurried beneath the table he would have been killed.
"What the hell?" he yelled at Sylia.
"It's me!" Sylia cried. They were after her. She was sure of it. Her enemies were getting brazen to attack her in a crowded restaurant. They might still be successful. Above her head the table rocked under the impact.
The firing stopped. The screaming of the patrons started. Sylia peaked out and snapped her head down as a bullet smacked into the window behind her. She heard cursing.
"It's jammed. Come on."
Grabbing George's arm she rushed with him to the toilets. Earlier she had gone there and noticed an exit sign. Her way out. The assassins yelled and guns were in all their hands. The diners began their panic driven rout and streamed for the exit. Other's stayed put. When the assassins fired again they caught a terrified couple in their fire, sending their jerking bodies backwards in sprays of blood. Their deaths allowed Sylia to get behind cover.
"Quickly!" she urged.
"What's going on?"
"No time, run."
They sprinted down the corridor to the exit. It started to open. Sylia could see a muzzle through the crack. She slammed into the door with her shoulder. The door flew back and struck another assassin behind it. Pain raced along her arm. It had gone numb. Slipping through the gap she saw the stunned assassin. He was alone. She kicked him hard in the head and he went down cold.
"Holy shit!" George exclaimed. He was in it again. Trouble followed this woman like a curse.
"Don't stop, they'll be behind us." Sylia pulled off her heels and hiked her dress to her waist. Down, it was long enough to make running difficult. She needed her legs unhindered. At any other time George would have focused on her legs and hips. Not when his life was in jeopardy.
"Well get the elevator next floor down. Hurry."
The stairwell was close by and they speed down it to the nineteenth floor.
"Why don't we go down them all?" George asked.
"Too far." Sylia could feel the loss of breath already. She wasn't fit anymore. "When they spot us in it they can get someone down below us faster and then cut off both directions. Do you have a phone?"
"No."
"Shit."
"We need one."
They exited the stairs. Sylia saw a man standing by the lifts and ran up to him. He was in a suit so he wasn't another assassin. That didn't stop her from throwing him up against the wall and searching through his pockets for a phone.
"Hey, what, help!"
She pulled out the phone and stabbed the lift's down button. Looking up she could see that most of the lifts were heading up.
"C'mon, c'mon," she urged.
The stairwell door burst open. Out came assassins.
George hurled himself and Sylia into the empty lift as the doors opened.
"Close it!" Sylia shouted.
George got her and spun around. The wall by the door was a puzzle of buttons. His hand reached out. He searched for the right button. He found it. His finger started forward. Bodies began to emerge from the hallway. His finger touched it. The button flashed. A chime sounded. The assassins turned towards the lift. The doors started to close. The guns aimed.
They fired.
George's head vanished.
The doors closed.
"No!" Sylia screamed, horrified.
Thick rivers of blood ran down the semi-circle glass wall of the lift. The reporter's body collapsed to the ground, more blood flowing out of it in sheets. Sylia screamed again and again. Her hands shook in front of her trembling mouth. Never had she seen a human die like that before. Never so close. She had killed boomers, seen the first Sabre girls die. Never so personally. The overwhelming drive of hatred against boomers wasn't at work now. There was no death because of the cause. It was her fault. She could feel the beginning of tears stinging her eyes.
The phone was in her hands. Concrete. Fumbling she entered the number.
/\/\ss/\/\
Linna's phone was on the table and in a different room. Weakly she heard it go ring.
"Almost there," Daley told her.
They were wiring together two separate pieces of monitoring equipment. One part was against the wall. Daley was working at the delicate wiring while Linna pushed the second part against the first so they would be joined closely.
The ringing of the phone was like a mosquito buzzing close to Linna's face. She didn't know who would be calling her at this hour. "Someone get that, it's in the storeroom." Looking around she saw that the room was empty. The others were upstairs.
"Done. Hey wait -"
Linna let go as soon as Daley spoke. The phone continued to ring. Somehow Linna felt that it was urgent. An old connection. She jogged into the room and picked up the phone.
"Hello?"
/\/\ss/\/\
"Linna!"
"Sylia, is that you?"
"Yes. Linna, you've got to get help. Someone is trying to kill me. They killed George. His dead. It's my fault."
"Sylia! Where are you, we'll come right away."
"The Pelican, city. Get help. There's at least four and they have automatic weapons."
"I'll call the RRT right away."
"Hurry. I'm in a lift now. I may have to run." Or find her car. It was fast. She could get away. If they didn't have a man there waiting for her. She couldn't risk it.
She looked up and saw another lift coming down. Bodies were pressed up against the glass. It was the assassins. One of them was on a phone. Calling others to let them know where she was. Making their plan. She looked down. Too slowly was the ground coming closer. All about her the night city was bright, lights reflected off the glass.
Glass.
Oh no.
Sylia leapt against the door as the glass above and around her shattered. It rained down over her. Her hair and hands fell over her face, covering. George's lifeless body shook. Holes appeared in the floor a few inches away from her. They couldn't see her huddled against the door.
She scrambled up on her knees. Broken glass had cut the back of her hands and her legs. Taut, her stockings had split wide open in various places along her legs. Blood welled out.
The floor numbers counted down. Just after eight she quickly hit the button for seven. The lift came to a stop and using fear inspired strength she helped the doors open and threw herself out as bullets raced through the emptiness where she had been.
Aching feet speed her down the corridor. She knew that the assassins would drop off at least one person on the sixth floor. She headed for the far stairwell and crashed through it. No time was spared for looking up. She literally jumped from landing to landing. Pain raced up her legs from the shock landing. Down and down she went.
/\/\ss/\/\
The only vehicle they had was the van. It had to do. Leaving behind the others, Daley and Linna put the peddle to the floor and raced towards the city. They knew they wouldn't get there in time to make a difference. Linna was on the phone to the RRT.
"What the hell do you mean that none of the Grashoppers are ready?" she was nearly screaming.
"They're under maintenance. It's a total fubar."
"No kidding its fucked up! Get anything out there yesterday!" Linna threw the phone against the windshield.
"What's going on?" Daley asked, worried.
"They can't help. They're all being repaired. Fuck! No Grasshoppers. No hardsuits. Sylia needs us!"
"Jesus. The Police will get there right away. We have to hope that they can handle it." Daley said.
"That doesn't matter. This shouldn't be happening."
Daley wished there was someway he could comfort the woman. As a member of the Knight Sabres, she and Sylia were close. He could clearly see how frightened she was. Unable to help. Too far away. Going to be late.
"Come on car, faster." Daley urged.
/\/\ss/\/\
"It'll be at least an hour to even get one Grasshopper operational again, Sir." A techie said to Roland, nervously.
"You've got five minutes or heads will roll. Now move!" the Chief bellowed. The techie scurried away. "And I want the head of the fuckwhit who ordered this mess!"
/\/\ss/\/\
A bullet clanged off the railing near Sylia's hand. She snatched it to her chest. They were coming down from above her.
She reached the next floor and yanked the door open and header the other stairs. She reached them the time the assassin came out into the hallway and as another almost ran right into her.
For a moment they were both too startled to move. Then reflexes and hate driven speed sent Sylia into rapid motion. She headbutted the assassin, making him reel back, and then thrust a knee into his groin. He doubled over and she slapped the back of his neck hard, kneed him again, and shoved him into the doorway. His gun was on the ground, just a pistol, and she picked it up and shot him in the face.
Only three more flights to go.
She ran down the stairs as fast as she could.
/\/\ss/\/\
Outside police cars screeched to a halt. Dozens of lights were flashing. A cordon was being set.
/\/\ss/\/\
First floor. One more to go. Sylia burst through the stairwell again and into a hallway. On this level there were shops. The shopping centre covered most of the block. There was no way any assassins would be on the other side. Panting and sweating hard she pushed for escape.
She spilled out of the corridor into a wide avenue. Glass storefronts ran in all directions. Behind her a pane shattered. The crack of the gunshot reached her soon after. They were still there. She didn't look back. She ran.
The assassins didn't yell at her, didn't call for her to stop or surrender. She could hear them running after her. Just as tired they had to be. But they could see her. They had guns. The one bullet required to kill her could come at any time.
Many did but none hit her.
A corner came and she took it. It was safety. A crossroad approached quickly. She would go left. That way was out.
The enemy had figured it out too. Just as she reached it an assassin came into view. His face was flushed with exertion. She let her legs fly out from beneath her and she fell onto her back, skidding along the smooth polished tile. The assassin's reflex shots went high. Centreing the man at the end of her gun she fired twice. He jerked backwards and fell into glass. As he slid down he left behind a wide band of red.
Sylia scrambled back onto her feet. No one else was coming. She headed left. Now there was yelling behind her. Not to let her get away. Another corner. Right. She was running along the wall and could see the street below. It was too far to jump. Cars and people went by without any knowledge of her plight.
Then she saw the awning. Twenty metres ahead. Calling for her last reserves she bent her head down, lengthened her stride, and pumped her arms.
The distance closed rapidly. She lifted her gun hand. It jerked up and down. She didn't care. She fired. The glass cracked, large spider webs appearing. It didn't break. Mortified she hoped that it wasn't bulletproof.
They were behind her again.
There was only one thing to do.
Screaming, arms in front of her face, Sylia leapt at the window. Like a thousand stars in the sky it broke and she passed through. She fell sideways onto the awning and bounced. The road appeared again. Vanished. She hit the awning's railing. All air exploded out of her lungs. She rolled over.
Fell onto a man standing beneath. He cushioned her fall.
People shouted and ran towards her. Hands helped her up.
"Get away!" she yelled and waved her gun. The hands let go. She couldn't see. Everything was blurry. Her mouth was bitter. She had to keep running. She wasn't safe.
/\/\ss/\/\
"How long dammit!" Linna said frantically.
"Ten minutes."
/\/\ss/\/\
Sylia kept the awning above her until it ran out. She kept close to the wall. Around her she could hear the wailing of police sirens. She kept running, didn't know how far, didn't want to stop. Just wanted to keep running, to run away from what had happened, what she was, was she was doing. The only thing she saw was the single frame image of George wobbling on unsteady legs, head gone.
Bright light filled he eyes and she felt the world spinning.
/\/\ss/\/\
Daley drove the van up to the police line. They got out and pulled out their Genom badges. The cop on the line recognized Daley and let them through.
"I see Roland and Leon over there," Linna pointed out.
"And Sylia."
They ran over.
Linna rushed up to Sylia and hugged her tightly. She was a mess. Tears had made her makeup run in dark streaks down her cheeks, her hair was a mess, dress dirty and cuts and bruises covered her legs. Linna didn't say anything, just sobbed into Sylia's shoulder. Sylia held onto her just as tightly. Her tears were finished.
"What the hell happened?" Daley asked Leon.
"Another assassination attempt. Professionals this time. Three were killed, the cops got one trying to sneak out. Sylia must have got the others. She doesn't know how many there were, so they probably escaped."
"From?"
"Don't know yet. The dead assassin's haven't been tagged yet."
"What the hell happened with the RRT?"
Leon's face turned black. "I don't know. Some maintenance order that none of us knew about. They were all out of action. We suited up in body armour and took the VTOL. It was over before we arrived. What the hell is going on Daley, who wants her dead so bad?"
"I don't know, Leon. I don't know." Daley looked at his boss. In her condition she looked pathetic. A total wreck, not the strong confident woman he usually saw her. Not the toughened Knight Sabre. He looked away. It was a sight he didn't want to remember. Police cars, ambulances and media vehicles filled the road. Genom was headline news again. He had only just returned to Japan, landed feet first immediately in the bog. Sylia's suspicions were now more concrete than ever. This was the second attempt on her life in less than that many weeks. The first had been internal. He didn't rule out that this was - however behind the first plot deciding to get professional help outside. Three or more assassins, it was likely they were hired from one of the gangs or syndicates. Or a rival. The insider could be a mole.
The former ADP detective ran a hand through his hair. The mess was complicated, full of angles. Whoever was behind it was moving fast. To proceed with an attack so openly. one that Sylia was alive by a miracle of luck. They wanted her dead and fast. Publicity didn't matter. Who then? Why? Where they after just her, or Genom as well? Possibilities ran through his active mind. Too many. He stored them away for later when he had the time to think through them properly. The matter was so important that he couldn't run any decision or forget a variable. But he couldn't take his time either. Sylia was in mortal danger. The next attack could come at any time.
"Okay, lets get her out of here. Sweep her apartment down, do a full sweep of the Genom building," he told Leon.
"It was never this bad in Tokyo." Leon said.
"No, it wasn't."
/\/\ss/\/\
Itto slammed the phone's receiver down. She was alive! Still. Somehow. The Chinese had failed. They'd try again, the broker had said. Their way. Secretly. Not in the open. Bah, fools. A few men was worth her death. He had paid them enough for it. At least there was no chance of it coming back to him. The attack would also take the importance off the investigation on Satoshi. Still, time was running out. He had to be in charge before the announcement for the tender rights to the TQZ Reconstruction were issued.
/\/\ss/\/\
The Wind Master put the phone receiver down. Itto was not happy that Sylia was alive, but that was what he had expected. Sylia had shown great courage and resourcefulness to escape without assistance. Good for her. The cost to him had been minor, half a dozen men. The three that had escaped would have to be killed. The return however would be worth it. He had Itto. The Marketing Director, probably responsible for the other troubles at Genom, would have to use his Tong or risk his part of the assassination attempt becoming public. Foolishly, thinking that he could control the Tong, Itto had not gone to the Yakuza, where his request would have been more successfully carried out. No, the Tong was its own master. The door was again open.
Holding up a coin with a square hole in it, the ancient Wind Master smiled.