(Angel Island, two days earlier)
Checklist:
4 MP5A4 Submachine guns (one per person)
4 Beretta 9-millimeter pistols (one per person)
4 Motorola walkie-talkies (one per person, channel 11)
4 switchblades (one per person)
4 Kevlar anti-frag vests (one per person)
4 crowbars (one per person)
1 Winchester .303 sniper rifle
1 M-79 40mm grenade launcher with four firebombs
1 collapsible M-60 .50 caliber machine gun
3 packs of C-4 with timed fuses
Assorted ammunition, cigarettes, alcohol
------------------------------
I looked up from the list. "Did we miss anything?"
"Other than the kitchen sink?" Roland said.
"Funny," said Shadow.
We were all dressed head to toe in blacks, each wearing a small black duffel bag with the extra stuff.
"If that's all, I'll rev up the car," said Rouge, taking her swingbag with her.
Twenty minutes later, we were driving slowly down Fifth Street. The clock on the dashboard read 10:10. Cinos's boss would be in the building for almost two hours. Rouge was at the wheel, Roland and Shadow in back.
"Okay boys and girls," I begin with a sigh. "Obviously, we all have our own personal vendettas against Cinos, but as it stands, I'd like this one to be strictly a talking mission. I've got the guns just in case, but if at all possible, I don't want a body count on this one."
"You are, of course, referring to the people who have dismantled the dream it took me ten years to build in less than a month," growled Roland.
"The people who shafted me, burned the joint, and left me to die," added Shadow.
"Yeah, yeah, I know your sob stories. But I'd like this one to be on a friendlier basis. No shooting if at all possible."
We rolled down the dimly lit street. In no time at all, we pulled up to the small, ominous office building marked Cinos.
"So this is it, huh?" said Shadow. "This is where it ends."
"Yup," I replied simply.
Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glint from the roof. I had no time to duck before a bullet whizzed through the windshield, clipping my vest as it did so.
"Down!" shrieked Rouge, slamming on the gas.
All hell broke loose as the gunners on the roof opened all fire on our car. From beneath the dashboard, I saw the leather seats as they were ripped to shreds by the hail of lead. The glass shattered, then crumpled inwards, showering us with small fragments.
I watched as the hood slowly caved in with each shot, eventually twisting itself into a mangled lump of metal. The engine caught fire, pouring smoke into the interior.
Rouge crashed the car into a garage door with an unceremonious whump. "Get the gear!" was my last exclamation before we all cleared the totaled vehicle.
With the sound of a muffled drumbeat, the black sedan exploded, hurling fragments of twisted metal, broken glass and burning plastic at us.
We stared for a second at the burning mess.
"You know what I said about 'no shooting'?" I asked.
"Yeah?" said Shadow.
"Fuck it," I snarled. "Let's bleed the sons of bitches."
Roland nodded gravely. Shadow lit a cigarillo off of what had been the dashboard. We checked our guns, and then I took a look out of one of the broken windows of the garage.
"Okay. Shadow, take the Winchester. Go to the other window up there and pick off the shooters on the roof. Roland, set up the M-60. Break all the windows on this side of the building. Rouge, when he's done that, shoot one firebomb against the face of the building. They'll put the fire out, but it should keep them occupied. Roland, when that's done, use the machinegun and give me covering fire aiming at the roof. I'm taking down the door."
They snapped into action. Shadow snapped five bullets into the bolt rifle, heading up the stairs for the upper window. Roland began to assemble the enormous machine gun. Rouge dropped a firebomb into the chamber of the grenade launcher with a clunk sound. I grabbed one of the C-4 packs and a fuse.
A tremendous pakow from upstairs followed by the splut of a body that had fallen six stories indicated Shadow had taken his first shot.
Roland loaded a belt of .50 into the machine gun, and the mayhem began.
The discharge of the M-60 was deafening. With a loud chuddachuddachuddachudda, the glass against the walls began to look like Swiss cheese against the pounding it was receiving. Brass casings began to rain on the floor of the dusty garage. Glass from across the street fell against the sidewalk in a crashing torrent.
Rouge straightened up behind Roland (allowing me a full view of her thighs), and fired a single clunk against the side of the building.
The flaming napalm spattered out of the projectile, sticking to the walls, incinerating the immediate interior of the building. The oily smell of burning plaster arose over the scene. A few piteous screams emanated from the windows.
We surveyed the scene for a second, and then Roland fired the remainder of his ammo into the snipers on the roof.
I didn't hesitate. I grabbed the C-4 and ran across the street as fast as my legs would carry me. I might not ever have what Sonic had, but I did myself proud.
I pulled myself as close to the wall as possible, pulling one gray lump of C-4 from the bag. I grabbed a few wires and a detonator, plugging it to the wall, just beside the main iron door. My fingers danced across the buttons as I set the timer for ten seconds.
And I ran once again. I could feel the pitiful remainder of the shooters on the roof trying to shoot at me through the smoke Rouge had caused. I could hear the hiss of fire hydrants upstairs behind me. A slug took me in the back, my vest taking the full force of the shot.
And then the detonators blew.
The shockwave was so intense it lifted me off my feet, throwing me unceremoniously into the wall. Rouge and Roland ditched the heavy stuff, and Shadow put down the rifle. We crept across the street, our SMGs in hand.
And eerie silence had fallen as we walked slowly across the street, broken only by the crackling of the fire, which lit up our faces like a Christmas tree.
Roland's gray fur glinted as we came to the wreckage of the door. We looked at each other, Shadow in his stoic zone, Rouge in her moment-of-truth mode, and Roland with steely determination etched in every line. And we walked past.
We were in.
The lobby was unrecognizable as an illustrious corporate office. In a lot of way, I doubted that Cinos was a real company.
A fox leapt out with a pistol leveled at me. Roland cut him in half with a burst from his MP-5.
We walked to the elevator en masse without a word. We pressed the up button. With a benign ding it arrived.
"Third floor," said Shadow. Rouge pushed the button.
We went up. The door opened to reveal an abandoned canyon of cubicles.
And a hoard of guards.
We sprang into action, firing wildly into them all. Bullets dotted the rows of partitions, cutting the office structure into fragments.
We were holed up in an elevator with no room to move. And they weren't shooting badly. I saw a bullet take Shadow in his vest dead center.
We were dead if we couldn't move.
They were closer.
Rouge threw her knife at one, out of ammo. Shadow was down to his pistol, Roland trying to conserve his MP-5 ammo in three-shot bursts.
All of a sudden, a pair of prongs hissed out of the crowd, striking Shadow in the neck. He sighed, and then fell softly against the wall of the elevator car.
They had Tazers.
More Tazer Barbs whizzed towards us, two taking Roland. This time I could hear the electricity humming through the wires as Roland was shocked unconscious.
A voice, somehow familiar, came from behind them. "No, leave them aloneā¦for now."
Rouge and I gasped for air, terrified and exhausted.
"Hello, you two."
Where had I heard that voice?
The crowd parted, revealing the figure still obscured by the dust.
"Long time, no see, huh, Knux?"
The dust began to settle, but whoever it was, he was still hidden in the shadows.
"Been on your feet a while, huh? Well, there's no rest for the weary, like I always said."
My heart sank into my stomach as I realized who it was just as he stepped forward out of the dark.
The blue quills were all the same; the light emerald eyes had lost none of their scrutiny.
He was wearing the same white gloves he had worn the day I had seen him die.
I gave one whisper. "Sonic?"
And then the Tazer bolt struck me in the gut. I felt a sharp sting just before thousands of volts of electricity struck my nervous system.
The vision of the blue hedgehog whom I had once thought of as a brother swam before me, and then darkness took me.
Darkness, and nothing more.
