I don't own anything. This chapter is set two years after the previous one.
An Assassin's Memories
Second Shot: Reappearing
"So I was talking to Tao," one of the guards said in Chinese.
"Well what did he say?" the other asked in the same language.
"We're going to be stuck out here until the guard changes," the first soldier said. "That was supposed to be hours ago."
"Shit," the second guard growled. "It's freezing out here." A young man watched all this was a blank expression on his face.
"Request orders," he whispered.
"Commence operations," a woman's soothing voice whispered in Russian. The young man nodded and his hand went to the weapon hidden inside the pocket of his overcoat. He fingers wrapped around the tiny silent pistol's grip and he tugged it from its hiding place.
"Commencing operations," he said simply as he raised the pistol and fired. The first guard took two in the chest and the second took a single round to the head. The young man lowered his weapon and looked around the empty street before walking to the building. He stepped past the two guards and into the lobby of the tall office building.
"You know you guys aren't aloud to come in," the guard behind the security desk said without looking up. The young man raised his pistol and fired before the guard knew what was happening. The older man slumped down on the book he had been reading. The young man slipped the tiny pistol back into his coat pocket and drew a large, more powerful suppressed pistol from under his shirt.
"Xiang?" The young man whipped around and found himself aiming his weapon at the corpse of the guard at the desk. He quickly pulled the tiny radio ear bud from the man's ear and held it up to his own. "This is Zhao," the man continued. "We're coming down to change the guard. I know we're late, but thanks for covering for us."
"Oh shit."
"What's wrong?"
"The change of the guard was late," the young man said simply. His hand slipped inside his jacket and drew a long, wicked-looking pistol. His thumb found the fire-selector as the doors of one of the elevators at the far end of the lobby opened.
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The young man's shoulder hit the wall and he peeked around the corner. He jerked his head back and winced as bullets flew by. He reached into one of the pockets in his over coat and drew a green egg-shaped grenade. "No more mister nice guy." He kneeled down and pulled the pin. He counted to three and tossed the grenade around the corner.
"What was that?"
"It was a grenade," the young man answered.
"Keep the explosives to a minimum."
"Yes ma'am," the young man said. He un-holstered his .40-caliber semi-auto and peeked around the corner. No one was moving and no one really looked capable of movement. He stepped carefully into view and barely had time to register a flash of movement even as he raised his own pistol. Two rounds impacted in the young man's chest, knocking him sideways and a third round grazed his chest, leaving a deep cut. "Hit."
"What was that?"
"I'm hit bad," the young man said as he struggled to sit up. He tried to make a fist with his right hand, but pain ripped through him. He glanced at his dropped pistol and reached into another pocket of his coat and drew a chrome cylinder with a small window on one side showing a clear fluid.
"Can you continue the mission?"
"Affirmative," the young man grunt. He brought the cylinder to the side of his neck and his thumb found the button on the end. There was a prick of pain and the young man's vision swam for a minute. Everything came back into focus and he pocketed the cylinder. "I'm continuing the mission." He reached down and picked up the pistol, the pain in his chest was gone. It was replaced by a rather pleasant sensation. The young man drew the 9mm full-auto from the small of his back. He moved forward and glanced at the man who had shot him. He was dead, his guts ripped to shreds by flying shrapnel. The young man moved past him and glanced around the next corner. He raised his full-auto and emptied the clip at the three men standing outside of one of the rooms. They all went down and the young man holstered the empty full-auto. He drew a second grenade and moved quickly to the room. He pushed the door open and threw the grenade in. Inside the room he could hear rapid-fire Mandarin.
"Get down!" someone screamed. The grenade detonated the young man holstered his 40-caliber. He drew the 9mm and loaded a fresh clip into it. He pushed the door open with the muzzle and looked around the room. Only one man was moving. It was his target.
"How unfortunate you," the young man said, his Mandarin perfect. He holstered the full-auto and drew a butterfly knife from his coat.
"Stay back," the man croaked. There was blood at the corners of his lips. It was almost black. 'Must be some shrapnel in his liver,' the young man reason. It was a fatal and painful wound, but not painful enough.
"Business is business," he said calmly. "I would have thought that you would understand that."
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Lorenz Keel sat carefully behind his desk and looked at the monoliths surrounding him. "Ikari has followed his own path long enough!" a deep booming voice roared. "He must be dealt with."
"I am aware of that," Keel said. "But he will not be killed. We still need him to complete the scenario."
"Than he must be frightened into cooperation," another voice growled. "We will use one of the assassins."
"Yes," another voice agreed. "But which one will we use?"
"Number Thirty-Three," Keel said, "will be the one. He is the most dangerous of all of them."
"Is that wise?" one of the monoliths asked. "I have heard rumors that he refuses to kill bystanders."
"You've heard wrong," Keel said. "He will kill anyone in between himself and his target."
"Will he be able to inspire the necessary amount of fear?" another monolith asked. "These assassins are used for their shock value above all else." Keel pushed a few buttons on the desk in front of him and a single image materialized in the center of the circle formed by the monoliths.
"Shocking enough?" he asked. There was a moment of silence before anyone else spoke.
"Who was he?"
"That," Keel began, looking at the bloody corpse of a young man, "was Number Thirty-Three's handler of two years. He became soft and needed to die."
"How was he killed?"
"He died a slow agonizing death from two puncture wounds," Keel said, "one in each lung."
"Where is Number Thirty-Three now?"
"He is in China," Keel said. He punched another button and the image changed to an overweight man in a business suit. He was covered in blood and the word 'traitor' had been carved into his chest in Chinese. "This was done last night."
"That is his work?" someone asked in shock.
"The assassins are not meant to be clean," someone said calmly. "They are used for their shock value."
"Number Thirty-Three will be sent."
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Arianna stared at the stitches across the young man's chest. "How does that feel Thirty-Three?"
"I don't believe that I am in any condition to tell you ma'am," Thirty-Three said. Ari glanced up from the wound to the young man's face. She instantly noticed that his pupils were still dilated. There were also two pain pens in front of him.
"You need to be careful," Ari said. "You might get addicted to that stuff."
"I can't get addicted to it," Thirty-Three answered. "It's specifically synthesized to make sure that it is non-addictive."
"Oh." She leaned back against the opposite side of the van. "We've got another mission."
"Alright," Thirty-Three said. Ari waited for a moment.
"Well don't you want to know where we're going?" she asked finally.
"Not particularly," Thirty-Three said calmly.
"The bosses said that they liked your performance on the last mission," Ari continued.
"I expected them to," Thirty-Three said.
"What did you do?" The young man paused and stared at Ari. "Never mind, don't tell me." Thirty-Three nodded. "Well don't you at least want to know who we're going up against?" Ari asked.
"Ours is not to wonder why," Thirty-Three said. "Ours is simply to do or die."
"You're the first assassin I've had to watch out for," Ari said. "So I have to ask: are you all like this?"
"Like what?" Thirty-Three asked.
"Aggravating," Ari said. "You've also been given a new alias. I take it that you would like to know that at least."
"I will be informed when I need to be," Thirty-Three answered.
"Okay," Ari said slowly. "Your name is Shima."
"Alright," Thirty-Three said calmly. "When do we leave?"
"So that you want to know?" Ari asked crossly.
"Yes ma'am," Thirty-Three answered.
"In one hour," Ari said. Thirty-Three nodded. "It might draw suspicion if people here you calling me ma'am," Ari commented.
"What do you want me to do about that ma'am?" Thirty-Three asked.
"Call me Ari obviously," Ari said.
"Okay ma'am."
"I meant starting now," Ari said in annoyance.
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"Wake up Asuka!" Misato sighed in annoyance. "You're going to be late for school!" The younger woman's door finally opened and she walked out.
"So?" she demanded angrily. "It's not like I actually need to graduate." Unable to come up with a return, Misato snorted and turned back to her can of beer. Asuka sat down at the table and looked at the food in front of her. "This looks disgusting."
"Well then," Misato snapped. "Maybe you should stop sleeping in and make your own damn breakfast!" She knocked back her beer and rubbed her temples. "I have to go to work now."
"I'm sure they'd just be so lost without you," Asuka hissed.
"Whatever," Misato said as she stood up. "Why are you so angry? You have a field trip today, don't you?"
"It's just to some big company," Asuka said simply. "A sophomore who went last year told me that it was really boring."
"It beats school," Misato said, trying to be positive.
"Right," Asuka said. "I just hope they have good food there."
"Do you need a ride home?" Misato asked.
"No," Asuka said. "It's only a mile or so."
"Alright," Misato said.
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Alex Beck looked around the bar and sighed. 'Now where the hell is he?" Alex's eyes fell on a young man in a black high school uniform with short brown hair sitting alone in one of the booths. 'Him? Damn he looks young.' Alex shrugged and sat down in the booth next to the young man man's booth and leaned back against the divider. "Do you have a cigarette?"
"I don't smoke," the young man said without looking up from the menu he was reading. "Those things will put you in the grave." Alex sighed and scratched the coarse hair on his chin.
"The grave is the only place I can rest," he said. "What do you need kid?"
"A NERV uniform, identification, and standard issue weapon," the young man said. "In two hours."
"Ammo?" Alex asked.
"Why not?" the young man asked.
"Meet me in the alleyway in back in two hours," Alex said.
"See you around," the young man said as he stood up. Alex watched as he walked towards the door. The young man paused and glanced back at him for a minute then turned and walked out.
"This will be amusing," Alex said as he leaned back in his chair. "Welcome back my young friend. Things will become much more interesting now." The older man grinned and stood up. 'I wonder what Katsuragi would say if she could see either of us now,' he thought as he pulled on his jacket over his shirt. "Probably nothing good," he murmured as he pulled a cigarette out of his pocket and put it between his lips.
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Thirty-Three opened the back door of the van and climbed inside. "Did you find the contact?"
"Yes ma'am," Thirty-Three answered. Ari sighed in annoyance as his formality.
"So what's he like?" she asked as she started the van.
"Sloppy," Thirty-Three said in annoyance.
"Oh well," Ari said. "So much for the Tokyo-3 dating scene. When do we meet him again?"
"Two hours," Thirty-Three said.
"Do you really think he can get the equipment in two hours Shima?" Ari asked.
"Maybe," Thirty-Three said. "If not then I will execute him for incompetence."
"I was checking this guy's file," Ari said as she pulled out onto the road. "He's already been killed."
"That's nothing you should brag about," Thirty-Three said calmly. "It just means that you're incompetent."
"You're right," Ari said. "As usual." She glanced at him in the review mirror. "Have you labeled your first target?"
"No," Thirty-Three said. "The bosses want to give Ikari one last chance. I'm supposed to put a little pressure on him. If he doesn't cave then I get to do my thing."
"When were you told this?" Ari asked.
"During the briefing," Shima said. "When you began staring at the wall and smiling." Ari blushed as Thirty-Three rather bluntly pointed out her small habit of day dreaming.
"You're not to bring that up ever again," she said simply.
"Yes ma'am."
-End
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-Author's notes. It's finally done. I've been meaning to get to work on an Assassin's Memories. I needed to rewrite all of it from the second chapter on. Mainly because I had managed to back myself into a corner like some of you thought I would. Now that school has started I have no really clue about my updates, so keep your eyes open.