"Jesus, Rin." Guy's cynical face drifted into an uncommonly dark frown. "I just heard. Christ, I'm sorry, m-"
"I know, Guy." Rin replied through the radio reciever he had pressed to his ear, his other hand on the steering wheel. "What I need right now is your help."
"Ask the hell away, what do you need?" He was eager to offer his aid to Rin, who so rarely asked of it. After all, he owed the lanky chinaman.
"Albinos. I need a list of all the albinos we have on file living in this city. Particularly ones with rap sheets involving explosions, arson, or anything smacking of terrorism or fanaticism. Can you get me that in five minutes?"
"I can get you that right now." Guy responded, fingers all ready dancing across his keyboard. "There's absolutely no albinos in the city with so much as a parking ticket except three. One of them is dead, one of them is in prison, and the other is..."
"I'm listening." Rin made a sharp left turn, blowing a red light.
"Jeremiah Gregorian. He was arrested by the military 10 years ago, released only 6 years ago. The military records aren't available, but his fingerprints and picture is. He's a creepy looking son of a bitch. What's this about?"
"Nothing I can explain right now. Do you have anything to give me? Last known address?"
"I can do better than that, Rin." Guy grunted low. "The military's been keeping tabs on him. He's head of some sort of neo-religious cult, called the Sages of Time. I've heard of them once or twice, they're into some seriously weird shit, something about predestination and destiny and fortune telling, or something. He took it over only 4 years ago."
"Got an address for me?"
"Sure, I'm sending it over to your PDA. Hey, Rin, I wanted to tell you something weird about the case I overheard." Guy's voice dropped to a conspiratorially low level. "About the bomb that went off in Rockefeller Square. This ain't out yet, so keep your mouth shut about it."
"I'm listening."
"They brought in the analyzation results from the experts on where the bomb was and how it went off, and they're having a tizzy with the computer. Seems the explosion couldn't have happened the way it's saying it happened - the bomb went off under 2 feet of solid cement, as if it had been buried there. And there hasn't been any serious masonry work there for over 4 years."
Rin turned this trinket of evidence over in his mind and decided it didn't matter one way or the other to his investigation. He dismissed it. "Thanks. I'll call you later, Guy."
"Be careful, Rin."
"Yeah."
The newscaster's face was blank as she spoke, static occasionally flickering over the screen. "...suspects as of yet. The bombing has claimed 87 lives, and placed over 40 people in the hospital with severe injuries. So far a multitude of terrorist groups have stepped forward to claim responsibility for this attack, but police are dismissing the majority of the claims based on unreleased evidence. The ISSP is offering a special bounty award of over 100,000 woolongs for the capture of whomever is responsible for this terrorist attack..."
Rin hardly heard the newscaster as he swept by the TV store, peering up towards the skyline and the brilliantly blue sky. His mind was lost, spinning out of control into the depths of his memories.
Clarissa. Out of all the people who deserved to get blown up like that, Clarissa was the least. She had been young, irresponsible, intuitive, and somehow wildly beautiful with brilliantly blue eyes. Had Rin loved her? He wasn't sure, but knowing that her charred and burned corpse was now in a casket being lowered into the dirt didn't feel good. Infact, it hurt like fucking hell.
I'm doing the only thing I can, Clarissa. This is all I know how to do. I can't put flowers on your grave or sit in some corner and weep, or try to make the world a better place in your memory. All I can do is find who is responsible and blow their brains out. That's it. I'm sorry.
It was about the same time that he heard the shots of gunfire that he saw the flashing red and blue lights in the distance.
The Church of Time was a squat yellowing building wedged in between two apartments, looking unsurprisingly poor and destitute. This was more than a common scene in this part of the city - police cars surrounding the entrance, several black and whites with their guns drawn and someone on the bullhorn. The addition of a Special Forces ISSP unit in heavy armor and armed with automatics was an unexpected addition to the scene, however.
Apparently, someone had put 2 and 2 together before Rin had. Charging towards the scene, he brushed an officer who kept the crowds back aside with a flash of his badge, leaping over a barrier and towards one of the nearby police cars. One of the windows in the building shattered as an array of gunfire bursted out, splattering across another car far off to the left. He could hear the distant cries within the building, fervent religious prayers. "God damn fanatics." He mumbled.
Detective Jerome Charleston, a young and highly intelligent kid who rarely shaved and had too much of a love for old detective stories, noticed Rin on the sidelines and was quick to move to his side, ducking low amidst the cars. He shoved his brown fedora down atop of his head and mumbled something under his breath, wearing his traditional long brown coat and good suit underneath. "What the hell are you doing here, Rin?"
"Investigating. I take it you're after Jeremiah." Rin responded, tossing himself against the car's wheel and reaching for his holstered gun.
"Heh. Yeah. Guess you must have followed the clues too, huh? We told them we wanted to bring Jeremiah in for questioning, and they suicide bombed the lobby. No clue how many of them are in there. No hostages, we don't think, but we need Jeremiah alive to figure out who was responsible." Jerome was about to say more, but a sudden clamor filled the front entrance.
Running out of the bullet-ridden front doors, a white-clothed wild-eyed man of at least 30 years had what looked to be several pounds of C4 strapped to his chest and a dead-man's trigger in his right hand. Rin tried to hear what he was saying, but he only caught something about 'The Prophet'.
Gun-fire rattled out and pelted the suicide bomber, who's body jerked and spasmed backwards like a rag-doll underneath the lead shower, eyes rolling up into his head. He released the trigger with a soft click, and suddenly the entire street was enveloped in flame and force.
A nearby police car angled sharply upwards and tumbled down, the sound of screaming police men heard as it came crashing down atop of their heads. Rin uttered a curse, and Jerome growled. "We can't handle these sort of mad men, Rin. The ISSP isn't equipped to handle terrorists. Maybe it would've been best if we let the Cowboys get themselves killed on this one."
"They'd screw it up. They always do." Rin replied without even hesitating, sliding up to peer over the car's hood. It was right about then that all hell broke loose.
The front doors and most of the front wall to the building suddenly bursted open amidst a spray of masonry and dust as the headlights of an ancient armor-plated car sprung out and shined in the eyes of the police officers directly ahead. The vehicle was a derelict of the past, with a thick squarish body that had been augmented with clumsily bolted on plates of cast iron. Bullets fired at it sparked across the edges and widths of those shoddings, as the car snarled and it's engine rumbled, sweeping a tire-screeching circle around the opposing cars and running straight for the one that had been spun over end. Crashing into it (And likely ending any chances the medics had of saving the police underneath), the armor-plated tank shoved it away and passed by Rin and Jerome as it swerved down the street.
For a single moment that seemed infinitely frozne in time, Rin's eyes locked into the passenger window. Within, he saw everything in detail - the silhouette of the driver, eyes wild and panicked, the green mint air-freshner hanging from the ceiling, and the man in the passenger seat. Stark bleach white skin adorned his face, his eyes hidden beneath black-tinted glasses, his ivory hair curling up to his ears and his visage utterly blank of anything. He seemed to be staring at Rin for that one moment in passing.
The car roared down the street as Jerome began frantically screeching in his radio for back up and blockades. The building before them suddenly erupted in a massive explosion, bricks and stone sent spiraling into police cars, flames erupting about the surrounding area and the shock-wave sending more than a few officers and cars flying back. Jerome was tossed half-way across the street and landed with a dull ompf and roll, blinking groggily.
Rin was running before the bomb had even gone off.
The car was all ready outdistancing him and swerving to a sharp left out of his vision when he reached his own car. Growling in irritation, he fumbled for the keys, yanking them out of his pocket and fumbling them for the door.
It was then he noticed something across the street from his car. Something he had seen before. Something that would even the odds.
Grinning, Rin tossed his keys aside and ran towards the other side of the street. "Must be my lucky day."
