Authors note; There is some babelfish Italian in here. For those of you who can read Italian, I'm sincerely sorry the sentence structure is so bad. If anyone would like to correct the phrases, leave a note in reviews and I'll get back to you. Translations for now are in parenthesis. Story has not been Beta'd.
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Briar had a fairly long and sleepless night as nightmare after haunting nightmares of guns, trees and screaming faces bled under her eyelids whenever she left them closed for more than a few minutes. A few days would go by like this as she holed up in an abandoned sewer drain, broken off the rest of the system and considered useless by sometimes forgotten quakes. Above was a poor district and slum of residential that hadn't seen care for some time, even with the boomers helping with so much maitinence. She'd snag a child from time to time with promise of treats if they told her what was going on on the outside, hoping to hear of a boomer riot or something to distract the ADP before she'd move out for another kill.
Joseph was dead. Carrol and Trace were dead as well, slaughtered in the building. She only had four more to go, and plenty of hungry and money starved people to send out to look for them for her. As her hand guided a slicked cloth over the lovingly polished suit, she plotted and planned. Four more men and she could be laid to rest at last. Peace and quiet, and maybe get Roskoe's remains moved to a nice cemetery. She wasn't sure what she'd do about the other suits buried with him, or the Segway when she was through. Perhaps she'd donate her mind and the suits to the ADP, like Roskoe had once dreamed. Or simply disabled and turned to scrap, thinking that the ADP might become corrupt with such a power.
Briar took her time with cleaning her machine, frequently checking the power readouts as she changed clips and cables from one old vehicle battery to another, draining what energy she could from scrap yard junk. This manual recharge playing hell with her mind, barely stopping herself from going out and getting a quick juice up from another factory. Too many power taps could expose her however, she knew. Looking over the scratches Leon's weapon had made, she rubbed her temples and sighed.
"Stupid bitch, how could you slip up like that." Briar muttered to herself as she cleaned. Thirteen people dead, thirteen little carved rocks to take to Roskoe's grave. She didn't have enough money to take transit out to the city limits as what little she had was needed for food. Was she trying to justify murder when she and rookie had their little argument? It had been a joke that the cop hadn't found particularly funny. "One bad apple to the next." She confirmed in her mind that Rookie was one of the good guys and she was most defiantly not and never would be. Better to face the music and be a psycho killer than try and save a world that didn't appreciate it.
Before she could return to the house. However, she needed to shop for food. Radishes, bread, cheese. Tea, if she could find something cheap. Nearly forgotten lessons form training in a different life came back to her as she dressed for the streets. Rags and baggy clothes, mussing up her hair and face and avoiding as much cleanliness as possible. She needed to look like a homeless person as much as she could, rather than a strong and well fit woman capable of damage.
The memories of Tozoe Briar, however, were virtually forgotten. Very little was important to her now, who she was or had been. Only the Foundation, Roskoe, and whatever the house held was left of her shell. Things she still used and had been trained into her until they were second nature were all that were important now. Disguise, paranoia, strategy, combat, intelligence. The old haggard woman that hobbled down the street with her purse tucked away and full of her last pieces of scrip was just another form of hardsuit she looked out at the world with. For now, she was just an old lady, a squatter who was going blind and retarded. Few people bothered her and those that did tended to leave after getting a few scrip or a bit of food.
Moving through market streets and poking around behind restaurants to check for a few scraps that might've been discarded, squinted eyes of a old, shrewd woman looking for the best deals amongst stalls and storefronts, she considered how to move her suit today. She'd traveled in the daylight many times before, passing herself off as a construction or junk boomer from time to time, hanging scrap metals and random junk from her suit as she moved through less caring peoples.
She had a light limp in her step, looking somewhere between a wide range of forty and sixty, no easily defined age as parts of her looked fairly young and others looked old and wrinkled, or just short of falling off. She was no frankenstine, not to her knowledge at any rate, but moved like one and kept the hobble of an old woman who hadn't had medical attention for some time. Her hands pawed and turned over turnips to be bagged for stew and scowled at minuscule lumps of bread in her range before she'd turn to look for tea. Passing one of the greasy little fast food carhops that had found a nook in the area, she tried not to smile as she noticed a familiar car and driver.
Life had a funny kind of way of doing things, letting people pass each other, perhaps even acknowledge each other, and never really realize what was going on until much later. Briar let her smile blossom fully as she passed him and found a little jury-rigged stall that had popped up over night carrying her favorite tea. Her house would soon be smelling of rain water and cinnamon, scents that calmed the animal in her soul. The last of her coin went to the small old Asian man and they shared a little bow as she tucked the small hard papered box into her back and started to return the way she came.
The smile would fade quickly however, and her eyes would turn wary and piercingly paranoid when the officer actually noticed her this time. Not breaking character so much as allowing herself to look like she was poor enough to maybe have committed a few thefts in her time.
"Hey there! Can I speak to you for a moment?"
"Eh?" She shuffled a little closer, holding her packages to her tightly, like a fearful immigrant. She certainly had the complexion for it, her eyes holding a slightly different shape than the other people around her, her skin a little more olive, or the incline of her nose. Italian, possibly.
"Yeah, you. Come here for a second, will ya? I need to ask you a few questions." The rookie waved her over, showing no recognition of her either.
She blinked at him blankly for a moment then moved up to the side of his car, looking puzzled and a little nervous. "Si signore?" (Yes sir?)
Briar allowed herself an inward smile as Rookie seemed to be caught off-guard for a moment before repeating his questions in both English and Japanese. She'd have to rub this in his face later, if he ever did managed to catch her.
"Well, it seems this place is the center of some very nasty incidents involving a rogue boomer. Have you seen anything unusual at all?"
"Il diavolo ed il suo gregge hanno attraversato ieri. Alcoolici difettosi nell'aria, sì?" She said with widened eyes. Ordinarily whatever he said wouldn't have made much sense to someone who hadn't picked up much English or Japanese, but everyone knew what Rogue Boomer was and the danger behind it. ("The devil and its flock have crossed yesterday. Alcoholic defective in the air, yes?" (This was intentional gibberish.))
Rookie groaned a bit and shook his head. "Nevermind. Forget it. I don't speak Italian. I'm sorry I bothered you."
"Non ho pensato così. Quello era il punto realmente. Relativo uno shame non state registrando." She nodded to him then gave him little bow and moved away from the man who wasn't going to arrest her today. She couldn't help but smirk as she worked her way back home. Even if he had known Italian, he likely would've struggled with it, she was intentionally ruining the dialect just to make it harder on him if he had known. ("I have not thought therefore. That one was the point really. Relative one shame not been recording." (Gibberish was not intended. Actual sentence should read, 'I'm exactly who your looking for, It's such a shame your not recording.'))
Once home, she promptly put a pot of water on a small portable stove she'd reworked from scrap pieces and bartered trades, and made herself a slim meal. A slice of bread, warmed by the steam from the pot, a few slices of radish and long saved sweets. When the water came to a boil, she dropped in some of her freshly bough tea and began to climb into her freshly charged suit. Collecting the carved pebbles into a small satchel that sat on her hip, along with some flowers from weeds outside her home. Provided everything went smoothly, she could get her things done at Roskoe's cement grave and be back home in time for a good pot of tea.
From her pile of rags and disguises, she pulled a few sets of long, swaddling black clothes, working quickly to wrap them around her suit and working to cover up herself as much as possible. While people weren't exactly free in Neo-Tokyo when it came to Work and play, she had a little leeway with religion. If the ADP were out looking for hard suits and boomers, she'd go out disguised as a tallish Arab woman, and few would likely bother her if any. She'd used the disguise plenty of times before, so the locals had gotten used to the occasionally figure in black stalking through the streets on one task or another.
Head bowed to keep glare of the sunlight from filtering through the thin scarves and veil wrapped around her head and glinting off the visor, she moved fairly easily through the streets, enough padding from the clothes that the poor people of the streets jostling along beside her wouldn't notice much if anything unusual. Using her knowledge gained from her time with the forces of both good and evil, she was able to slip by scanners that would alert anyone to her presence, dodge human police and lifescan boomers. She knew enough of the sabers to have a few paths to make her progress quicker, tapping into ancient information of when satellites would be switching orbit to scan a new lane or security cameras pointing at an angle she could take advantage of. No security system was perfect, and knowing holes was what really counted when one was a criminal on the run. It wasn't as fast as a night of flea hopping over the rooftops, but it got the job done.
Once she got out of the city limits however, she made a few long, low jumps until she could pull off her disguise and stash it in a bush. Clothes over the armor made for bad aerodynamics, and all that walking had built up plenty of energy to allow her to skip under the radar and make her way across the countryside relatively quickly at little cost. Now and then she'd stop and flatten herself to the ground, scanning around to see if she was being followed or if the occasional villager or farmer outside the city had noticed her.
When she landed about a hundred yards away from the large, low home, she stopped for a moment and took in the sights around her. She'd been in such a rush to leave the place that she'd never really gotten to enjoy the place until she'd left it for too long. Once it had been the headquarters and orphanage for the innocent children they pulled under with them. Before that, rented by other families from private owners, traceable all the way back to her parents.
She shook her head, dispelling the thoughts of those who haunted the halls and its many rooms, she pushed open the patio doors as she'd done on her last visit, and muttered apologies to the walls for not taking off her shoes and coat. Treading lightly, she moved along the walls until she found the trap door once again and was soon kneeling once again by the concrete slab, counting down the stones in the dark.
Bowing her head and placing her hands against the wall, Briar got to thinking about her next strike. Yoshijo, she decided, would be the most important to the remaining members. He was already avoiding the police, so she was less likely to encounter problems with them as she took him down in his own territory. He'd been a recruiter and a thug last she'd heard of him, pulling kids off the street or out of their own homes, claiming they were given up by their parents to pay for their debts. Honor above grief and silent suffering kept most people quiet and kneeling at the man's feet, and thugs to back him up with threat of torture kept people from running off and telling stories. People were still disappearing every day for various reasons, and Yoshijo could probably be found at the root of many of the disappearances.
She leaned back and regarded the bones in the wall, regarding Segway's scan of the concrete block's contents. At least with Joseph down, their private funding would be substantially reduced. "Three down, four to go, Roskoe. I'll take Tedd down last, then turn myself in with a formal request you get somewhere real to rest and the suits go where they need to be. I think I'll have them dismantle Segway, it's too dangerous to keep around."
A hand brushed over the wall where Roskoe's skull was lodged, then patted it lightly. He'd been so young, so bright and willing to learn. He really had a future in this world. And they'd buried him in cement for trying to do something for someone outside of the foundation.
Briar carved Joseph's name into the concrete with the tip of her armblade and crossed it out before carving Yoshiro underneath. Giving the scan one more look over, she turned and slid out of the underground compartment, back up into the hall, and let the trap door fall shut behind her with a soft click. Moving back out on the patio, she took a moments pause and decided the tea could wait a little longer and sat on the edge of the wooden structure.
She unsealed Segway and pushed the chest armor off just a bit, letting in the cool country air and a slit of warm sunlight, a hand pulling up her visor half way so she could look around with her own human eyes. She took in the scents of home, both of the old wood of the house and the green grasses and bushes nearby. The lawns that hadn't been cut and distant fruits and nectars from other farms further away. Sights and sounds from a childhood she'd been so eager to abandoned once her parents died, and moved into the big city with the money made off selling the house. The same house she had buried her only friend for as long as she could remember.
"Just a little longer, Roskoe." The words slipping like a soft mantra over her lips as she gazed out over the horizon.
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It was a long, long morning of paperwork, just as Leon expected it would be. Fun, fun, fun! He managed to fill in the details and pawn the hard stuff off on Nene for a quick bribe, though. Daily was still on his vacation, so it was another day of patrolling on his own to look forward to. As soon as he got to his car with the things he needed for the day, he pulled up the transceiver from the radio.
"Hey, HQ. If that rogue hardsuit pops up anywhere, let me know, all right?"
"It's your case, Detective. We'll let you know." Crackled back over the speakers before settling into a comfortable static of a happily quiet morning.
He made his way through the city. Visiting first upon the scene of Segway's first attack, then to the factory where he'd encountered her and finally, to the place she'd killed Joseph. Taking in the sights, the details, and a few claims from nearby locals, but he couldn't make anything add up.
"It doesn't make sense." Leon muttered to himself, tapping his thumbs against the steering wheel in his irritation, both with the case and traffic he was momentarily caught in. "There's a connection between something here. But what? Is she a Genom operative?" He paused a moment and frowned a little. "Why am I assuming it's a she? For all I know, it could be a boomer in that hardsuit. Next time I see her, I'm gonna find some place to stick a tracer."
His stomach growling at him angrily for having nothing but doughnuts for breakfast in leeway of getting his paperwork done, he decided to take a break from the search and pulled into a little Carhop type restaurant, ordering a burger and some chili cheese fries. Yeah, like Leon was really that self conscious about health or the hazards of where he might've been eating.
Life had a kind of funny way of dealing the cards to a player of its game. Sometimes you got the high cards, and sometimes you got nothing worthwhile. Leon's eyes weren't really focused as an old ragged looking woman hobbled across the walk in front of his car on some errand or another, and he paid her little attention. The whole incident seemed wrong, like that case with the car that'd had gone insane. Revenge was never a pretty sight. He hated it in all its guises.
"I just wish I knew where to look for her."
He took another bite out of his burger as he watched the woman shop for something, then start her way back. His mind idly making up a story about who she was and where she came from based on how she moved and walked, his trained senses working hard to pick up every detail. He wondered what Blair looked like and why he hadn't been able to find any real information on her. After a moment, he tilted his head out his window and called out to the woman.
"Hey there! Can I speak to you for a moment?" Motioning her forward with one hand and watching her go from a poor woman's joy to a suspicious squatter. He didn't even begin to wonder about her life, he'd seen plenty of her type on the streets before.
"Yeah, You. Come here for a second, will ya? I need to ask a few questions." He kept it casual, trying not to give way too much of his own thoughts with his motions, though he'd keep his badge visible.
"Si signore?" (Yes sir?)
Leon blinked at that, as it was not a common language to hear, whatever it was. She had acknowledged him though, and that's what he needed. He opted to ask her questions both in English and Japanese, trying to gauge which she would know more of.
"Well it seems this place is the center of some very nasty incidents involving a rogue boomer." Doubting she'd believe it was really a hardsuit. "Have you seen anything unusual at all?
The woman reacted with some surprise, her eyes widening and her face pulling up with fear. Something he'd said had frightened her for sure. Il diavolo ed il suo gregge hanno attraversato ieri. Alcoolici difettosi nell'aria, sì?" ( "The devil and its flock have crossed yesterday. Alcoholic defective in the air, yes?" )
Oh, man. Leon groaned softly and shook his head. He'd heard some of it before but didn't know enough to make sense of it. "Nevermind. Forget it. I dent speak Italian. I'm sorry I bothered you." Finishing off his fries with a sigh.
She blinked and nodded slightly, getting the hint. "Non ho pensato così. Quello era il punto realmente. Relativo uno shame non state registrando." ( Trans: "I have not thought therefore. That one was the point really. Relative one shame not been recording." )
He muttered to himself vaguely and called another carhop to his car. He was still a little hungry and some junk food went a long way. Ordering a banana split and a soda, he tried to open himself up and look at the case from all possible directions.
"Maybe I should investigate the victims. That should be my next move. Sounded like she's doing this for revenge." He leaned forward and started up his vehicle again, heading back for the station so he could search the files yet again. "Defiantly not going home early tonight."
Starting with the first case, he quickly found Joseph among the attendants and much of his records. Though little had been left when she'd finished there, they had enough evidence by then to recognize most of the people killed. Soon enough Leon found Joseph had been leading a meeting with several other businessmen from various companies, himself and two others listed as members of one Toscali Foundation. He skimmed most the records they had on each victim's names, not really having time to get too deep into the paperwork when there was a psychopath on the loose.
The Foundation's records were neat and almost too clean, as he looked them over. A seven man board from several companies and a few original minds trying to run a nonprofit home for the orphans and young adults who were victims of the quakes that had rocked Tokyo years before. Their mission was very clear and stated they spent all their funds and tapped all their resources on teaching language skills, basic living and job skills, and even how to be aggressive in the workplace and learn things on their own. Many of the members of the board using their own incomes and pocket money to fund the progress when donating companies had started bailing out, one by one. Just over two years before the current day, they had finally announced bankruptcy, and their land and housing was turned from poor housing and finally a condemned building. In the end, the land and the building was bought and added to the personal property to Tedd Phelpson, an American investor who'd moved to Japan and eventually the countryside under claims of better health.
"Sounds way too good to be true." Leon shook his head, some part of him expecting a smart remark from Daily before remembering he was still off. "I don't know what's going on, but I think the next thing to do is check the building. Maybe they left some records there." Normal circumstances would demand that he have a search warrant before making such a trip. Of course, the place was condemned and out of business, so who was going to stop him?
As he skimmed over the names of people they'd 'successfully helped' before bankruptcy, he blinked at a familiar name and face, Roskoe Kagowa.
"Hmmm... Hey! I remember this kid's face!" His head lifting from the folders as he gazed into nothingness, trying to pull memories from the back of his mind. "He used to run around with... That woman. Fuck if I can remember her name... Blaine? Braids? Damn... I know I know her..." He pursed his lips a moment then shook his head. He'd worry about it later, visit the kid maybe and get some insider information on the foundation.
Before he drove to to the Phelpson's residence, he took the time to sign a few more papers and requisition a K-12 for his own personal use for the day, lest the 'thing' he was investigating show up and try to give him a hard time. It cleared easily enough and he was soon on his way with one of the faster vehicles out of the entire department and protective gear stashed in his trunk. He kept his revolver and hand cannon at his fingertips as per usual and continued talking to himself while driving. There was never any good music on the radio these days.
"I can just picture what I'm gonna say, too. 'Yeah, some homicidal psychopath in a hardsuit wants to eliminate you for something you did to her. And Damned if I know what'."
Leon regarded the stately looking home amongst the reeds and bushes boredly as he pulled up the gravel drive and parked. Simple motions of getting out of the vehicle and walking up to the doorway gave him the sensations of being watched by something from the outside. Shrugging it off, he knocked on the door.
"Yes?" Asked the equally bored looking butler who answered the door.
"Yes," He replied as he pulled off his sunglasses so he could properly look the man in the eye. "I'm looking for Mr. Tedd Phelpson. His life is in grave danger."
"Preaching to the choir, sir. He's not to have visitors," The butler passed, considering Leon's bade and ADP uniform, "But I suppose I cant simply turn you away, can I."
"Well, you could, but I don't know how wise it would be. Seems someone has been looking to eliminate all the members of his former foundation board. According to the information I have, he's one of the last survivors."
The butler sighed lightly and stepped back, letting Leon in with a slight bow of his head. Once the door shut, locking itself he noticed, the butler took him away from the front hall and more towards the back of the house, into a living space with wide, lightly curtained windows, sparse but comfortable furniture, a wide screen television and a few trinkets about. "He will see you, just be careful with him, you are not the first to bring him news today."
"I'll be gentle as I can with my questions, but I'd seriously consider going into hiding. If its at all possible."
"Its on the list." The butler replied, looking past Leon, further into the room.
Following the gaze of the butler, Leon found himself looking at Tedd phelpson, or what was left of him. A doctor from what was likely a private service was making notes based on readouts of machines connected to the older looking man, swaddled by a few blankets as he reclined in a chair half tilted in the direction of the television. The man's eyes were open and blankly staring out the window in the other direction, a slim mask over his mouth and nose misting every few moments with his breaths. The doctor glanced at the officer and frowned lightly.
Leon sighed and moved beyond the doors, looking Tedd over for a moment, then turning to the doctor. "Sorry about this. I'm just doing my job, same as you. And we both have the same job, I'd guess: Trying to save this man's life. Now. Can he communicate at all?"
"Ofcourse he can. If you don't mind one word every few minutes. I wont even describe the buyer's meeting this morning." A brittle joke which he laughed at without a very pleasant tone. He was looking at Leon like another potential heart attack, or perhaps a vulture wanting a larger meal.
"Tedd? I need your help." Leon said, turning away from the doctor and leaning over the man slightly to get his attention. "I need you to tell me the real purpose of the Foundation. Can you do that for me? I only want to help you, but I need you to help me so I can help you, Understand? Its very important that you tell me."
Glancing back at the doctor a moment, he added. "Is there any chance of moving him? Preferably in secret?"
"Jobs." Came Tedd's creaky voice from behind the mask, his eyes glazed but focused on the officer and his doctor, apparently sticking to the foundation's basic story. Every breath sounded like a struggle for the man, and communication seemed to be agonizing.
The doctor just shook his head. "Not at this time. Perhaps in a few days. Too much trauma or movement now could give him a second stroke. Whatever he saw on the news yesterday was pretty bad to cause this kind of reaction. He should be back to his normal self in a few days however."
Leon nodded and pulled the doctor to the side a little, deciding to try again with Tedd when eh was feeling a little better. "He may need to be moved before then. The person who killed his former partner... She's still out there. And I think Tedd is going to be her next target. I'm almost certain of it."
"Joseph was no partner." The butler spoke from the doorway with a bit more acid to the otherwise bored tone. He stepped out of the room at this point, back to his tasks around the house.
"Briar." Tedd moaned from his makeshift bed, still gazing at the two of them.
The doctor glanced at the man and shook his head like he'd heard the name several times before but had no idea what it meant. "No doubt, officer. We're doing everything we can for him."
"all right. Try and get him moved as soon as possible. Now that I know a name, that'll help me a lot. Does the house have any security?" Leon managed to keep his voice and expression calm as his mind went nuts. BRIAR! BRIAR! He'd misheard the woman last night when she was in the hard suit. That was who the mecha kid was hanging out with. He didn't know Briar very well but... His thoughts all came to a standstill. Hadn't she been killed in the line of duty a few years ago?
"Yes sir, top of the line." The doctor smirked slightly, an almost guilty look crossing his face as though he knew more than he'd like.
"all right. If you think you'll be safe here then, I'll leave you," He glanced to Tedd and the doctor in turn. "Or should I wait here as a guard?"
"That's up tot he ADP, isn't it?" The doctor asked, lofting a brow.
"Go." Tedd struggled, his breath quickening slightly as he tried to summon up strength to communicate with the officer further. The old man seemed somewhat relieved, in fact,t hat someone would be pursuing the woman that haunted his nightmares and threatened his life every extended day she was hiding and hunting.
Leon nodded. "Before I go, are there any others Briar may want to get at before you? Is there anyone else I need to warn?" He planned to go back to the foundation and investigate a little more there. But it would help if he had an idea of what to look for.
"Yoshiro." Tedd ended the conversation with the name and closed his eyes, quickly falling to sleep. While Yoshiro had been listed as a board member, he'd disappeared before the foundation lost its money, listed as 'in the field' with no reports after a certain date. A name that the N-Police would likely have interest in for Yakuza connections if he could catch the man alive before Briar did.
A final nod and the officer left the house, getting directions to the condemned building from the butler and arriving at his final destination for the morning within a few minutes. But even before he got out of his car and let the quiet engine settle down, he felt something off. Something was wrong.
This time, he made sure to load the hand cannon before going inside the condemned building.