Chapter 80: Shadow War (Part 2)

The City of Townsville. Warehouse District. Wilmark Road. Vaugh Steel Co.

02 MAR (Thursday) 1989. 2225.

"-not to mention Bossman has them under his thumb," Fedele Palladino, one of a few executors working under Bossman, said while he was spinning his car keys on his index finger. Agent Truman, one of Rook's undercover officers, have been listening intently to the conversation held around a round table. He had infiltrated Townsville's biggest crime family since even before the USDO had changed their name and established themselves in the city.

"Good – do you have a trap waiting for them? Stupid and clumsy as they are, these 'Powderpuff Girls' are still a problem. An itch that really needs some scratching. Fuck an itch – they're a full-blown rash! They took out one of our secret hideouts in a bunker just outside Townsville. Did it cleaner than usual too. They're becoming an even bigger threat!" one of the Foundation's high-echelon members said, the same man who had recruited Mojo Jojo into their ranks.

"Why not just sic your monkey at them if you're so afraid of them?" Fedele asked.

"He's busy. He's been testing some new weapons. And… he's been working on something big. I can't say what yet," the Foundation executive said.

"Well, my bosses have a use for them. They've got a use for everything," Fedele said casually. "It's best not to interrupt him."

"My master has spoken about the Shadowkins, friends…" Leopold Sutton, visionary of the Cult of His Promise, said. He had been meditating quietly in his corner of the table, only to open up when Fedele least expected it. He turned to the Foundation rep. "Your bunker wasn't assailed by the 'Powerpuff Girls'. There's a new force at work, something deadlier… someone more… potent."

"Who?" Fedele asked. He'd stopped twirling his car keys.

"She's here," Leopold said.

The lights went out immediately after that.

The representatives of the various criminal factions in Townsville weren't without company. Flashlights were switched on, and soon, lances of light were penetrating the darkness. However, they were like strings, and short ones at it in the engulfing void. The representatives' right hands began radioing for their eyes at the entrances to explain the intrusion, only for nothing to come back.

Fedele himself had his own flashlight, and when he shined it on Leopold, he realized that the cultic leader was gone, whisked away somehow. The first thing on his mind wasn't that he was a dirty coward, but that he wished he could go with him, however way he did it. It was only through a late reaction that he became angry with the cult leader.

"Sutton, you yellow little scumbag!" the Lombardi executor bellowed.

"Friend of His Promise," another ethereal voice said. The big man shined his light on the source. It was a gaunt and tall but thin woman in a red cloak. Beside her were two more red cloaks. They were all bereft of clothes underneath their all-covering cloaks. They drew their strength from the strange eldritch weapons in their hands. "He left only under His guidance. We will stay in his stead to combat this misguided shadowkin… thing. Our loyalty is genuine, let us prove it to you."

There was the sound of metal clanging. Guns were raised, cocked and readied. Men shook as they realized that they weren't dealing with The Powerpuff Girls - Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup wouldn't have been so subtle and tactical. They would have blown a hole through the docking bay shutters, declare their intentions and made themselves available for their firing squads - they were nearly impossible to beat by mundane standards, but 'nearly' was the key there. At least they could be seen and dealt with.

Cardboards fell next in the distance from a completely different direction. Gangsters and terrorists turned their guns towards it, some hollering as many different ideas for winning, or even losing gracefully, as there were people.

The cultists with their swords had a different idea. They'd turned and run in a different direction, disappearing into the shadows.

"Great, just great! Steve, you take your group and flush her out!" Fedele ordered. Some six men advanced towards the shelves where they thought the… whatever it was that was attacking them… could last be heard.

"Gage, take your Duranium gun and join them," the Foundation leader ordered. A seventh man went along with the gangsters, lugging along a sniper rifle.

It had fallen deafeningly quiet after that. One could hear a pin drop in such an enclosed space. Then it'd happened again. What sounded something literally like a pin dropping could be heard from another angle. Already nervous, the twenty or so men remaining around the center of the warehouse shifted their aim in that general direction.

More men were sent away to deal with that.

"Where the hell is she?" Fedele muttered. He took his old tommy gun from his table and cocked it. Holding it in one hand, he wiped some sweat on his forehead away with the back of his hand. He waited, and waited. Panic threatened to take him, so he went for his radio in the hopes of goodness. Depressing the call button, he radioed Steve: "Hey Steve, you found anything? Tell me it's just some rats and a busted power line!"

At least, Fedele thought he heard rats even while the lights were on and their meeting was ongoing.

Something else other than his button man answered that question for him. A sudden flash of light, accompanied by the ground shaking and a truly deafening explosion. Shelves were knocked down along with their industrial contents. Steve or one of his men had tripped a claymore.

Shortly after that, another explosion rocked the warehouse, this time coming from a second group. Men fell along with boxes full of machine parts. Shrapnel had ripped everything apart. A grenade, either trapped or thrown. Either way, someone was killing them off.

Fedele's group was forced to form a messy, panicked circle, just a hair-trigger away from running. The prospect of tripping another trap prevented them from breaking.

When the dust settled, they could hear something skittering on metal. Guns were trained in all directions, but it didn't sound like they were coming from anywhere the compass could point. Fedele had to wipe the sweat off his forehead again, and even then, it was blinding him.

Up. He gave a shout and pointed his tommy gun and flashlight up. It'd occurred to him a little too late. Bullets rained down on him and his group. Men fell, their guns blazing but most weren't hitting anything. Fedele felt a bullet zip through his leg. He couldn't even stand anymore and fell screaming.

It was her. The someone - or something - who was deadlier and more potent. And it came in the form of another Girl, bigger than the others, a whole lot smarter too for pulling what she pulled. And she was coming down, MP5 still putting shots through flesh. By the time she'd landed on three limbs, crouched, however, it was clicking and not all of them were down.

A Foundation terrorist pointed his gun at her, only for it to be knocked away and quickly when the Fourth Girl smacked it away. She retaliated with a punch, shattering the man's skull. The terrorist fell in a heap, dead.

Fedele himself tried to fight back. He fired his tommy gun at her, hoping that it might just knock her out long enough for him to crawl away, but the Girl in purple had sprinted up to him at the speed of a car and seized his firearm. With a single twist, she'd broken it in two. He felt a punch next, then nothing after that.

The lights came on again. Whether someone had turned it back on or the machines had reset, it mattered little. His vision was like frosted glass after that, but he could see her well enough, in her fullest glory; an armored angel, armed as if for Armageddon. He found himself actually admiring her, and wishing he had a kid like her - and he would have been friendly to her had he not been at the business end of her gun.


The City of Townsville. Warehouse District. Wilmark Road. Vaugh Steel Co.

02 MAR (Thursday) 1989. 2235.

Removing her night-vision goggles, Bunny looked down at one of her enemies, one of those who could have hurt her family had she not intervened. Tempted to kill him, she decided not to only because she remembered her objective. A few of them had to be kept alive for questioning, and she really hoped that she would get to do some of the questionings.

Heavy footsteps. Boots. A few of the men she shot had gotten up to run away. She drew her suppressed pistol and fired a few rounds. Two to kill, one to maim a leg. They all fell almost simultaneously, a testament to her gunplay.

"Hyaaaah!" someone screamed with exertion behind the voice. Loud. Bunny turned to the source only to be faced with a red-cloaked swinging two swords at her. Hopping out of the way, Bunny felt cuts on her arm nonetheless. Whether it would mean injury or just repair for her suit was anybody's guess. Bunny seized the woman by the arm while she was recovering and jumped on her, pulling her to the ground. Her other arm was swinging a sword wildly, but with the position and angle she had on the floor, she couldn't even dream of hitting Bunny.

Bunny gave her arm a twist so hard that it was pulled out of its socket. The woman screamed. Pulling her suppressed pistol out, she aimed it at her head, deciding if she should add the cultic swordswoman to her collection of captured criminals.

She fired a round - but not at the swordswoman. Her companion had been hiding in the shadows, aiming a gun at her, no doubt holding Duranium ammunition or he wouldn't have been discreet about it. The cultic gunman fell. A third tried to charge her, only to lose an eye and fell towards her in the middle of it, dead. Bunny had decided. Training her pistol on the swordswoman's leg, she fired another round. The woman screamed.

It was over. More or less. Bunny had seen what happened when her traps around the edges of the warehouse exploded. Most of the men caught in the blasts were dead, but not all of them. There were likely a few who would still fit enough to move, and they would no doubt try to escape. They wouldn't make it very far…

Especially when SWAT teams from the TPD and soldier squads of the USDO began breaking through the sealed doors and arresting them. They were able to do it as Bunny had already taken out the sparse few guards watching over the sealed doors, something she had done so well with knife and garrote wires that most of the criminals in the warehouse weren't aware of it.

Sitting down on a nearby box, Bunny began examining the damage the cultic swordswoman had inflicted. Her swords had made two massive cuts on the left upper arm of her kevlar suit. Opening it up, she saw rips in her uniform. There was blood, but not an overflowing amount. The wounds weren't even skin deep. The armor had done its job, despite being made of stuff weaker than Duranium.

"You okay, Bunny?" Bunny heard General Blackwater's voice and she turned to beam at him.

"It's only a cut," she said while smiling at Blackwater, who couldn't help but smile back at her for having assimilated his lessons so well. "You said I'm strong and you're right."

"Good work, Bunny," Rook said as he came up to them. All around them, soldiers were restraining whatever remained of the criminal coalition who were still breathing. Bunny's eyes darted impassively to the cultic swordswoman, who screamed as if she was being burned at the stake when a soldier shoved her dislocated arm back into its socket roughly and cuffed her. In the meantime, General Blackwater had called for a medic, who came over to take a look at Bunny. He'd began to clean her wounds when the general continued:

"There's something else that could use your attention, Bunny," he said when he got down on a knee beside her. Bunny winced when the USDO medic started dabbing her wounds with antiseptic. "Are you up for it?"

Bunny smiled at the general, this time maniacally. She'd achieved something here in this warehouse. Saved her sisters from lots of pain, perhaps even their lives. If there was more she could do, it was like being asked if she wanted more candy.

"Who do I kill?" Bunny asked straight off. The general grinned. He got up and sat down beside Bunny on her wooden crate. The crate creaked as if it was in agony, but thankfully, it didn't shatter and ruin the moment.

"Remember when I said that betrayal can come from unexpected places?" the general said frankly.

"Yes…" Bunny replied, feeling a wave of nervousness in her, even though she wasn't sure why. "Who is it, General Blackwater?" The general had seen the way she reacted to it and thought that the way she was taking such grave matters was admirable.

"Oh, don't worry about it, they're not anyone you know," he quickly reassured her. "You see, there are some police officers who have betrayed - are betraying - their own. Instead of helping to enforce the law, they break it in secret instead, hurting everyone around them just to turn a buck."

"Police officers can do that?" Bunny asked. She had learned about police officers from a very, very early age. Dad had taught her about them while teaching her to speak and recognize things. Even in black ops training, it wasn't something that was emphasized. Sure, she'd learned that the USDO could betray their own, but the police?

"Yes, and quite often too, at least here in Townsville," the general said. His mind raced through the trigger - words he would say to get Bunny riled up. That was how it worked, and that was what contributed to her effectiveness. "And this time, we have police officers who are betraying your sisters."

"They… they're hurting my sisters?" Bunny asked, straightening up. To say that she wasn't pleased to hear that was an understatement.

"Not directly. But they're making sure that Blossom, Bubbles and Buttercup's work is wasted, even beneficial to the criminals. Your orders are simple…"


The City of Townsville. The Slums. Former Exposito Family Headquarters

02 MAR (Thursday) 1989. 2254.

Bunny crept closer to the location in question. General Blackwater's orders were still resounding clearly in her head. She remembered that she was reloading her guns when she received those instructions. She remembered unjamming her MP5 as it had malfunctioned during her raid on the warehouse and while she was doing so, she was listening.

Peeking around a corner, she saw a couple of policemen guarding the entrance of an old, decrepit apartment building. One of them was sitting on a chair was the other was leaning against a wall. Both of them looked like they were freezing despite the jackets, gloves, and scarves they were.

"Wonder what the hell they're doing inside. Why wouldn't they let us in? We're freezing out here," the officer leaning against the wall was saying while he was rubbing his hands, then folding his arms around his chest. He was younger than the other, perhaps mid-twenties. Bunny knew, because she'd been shown pictures of people of varying ages during her training.

"You know why, kid. 'Cause we're different from them," the older one, perhaps mid-forties, said while sitting on his chair.

"Different?"

"There's two kinds of officers here in this city, kid. They're in there and we're out here," the older one clarified further.

"What do you mean?"

"Why did you even make the transfer from Citysville anyway?" the old cop asked. "Peace and safety too boring for you there?"

"It's not exactly peaceful and safe there. It's just smoke and cockroaches there. If I stay any longer, it'd be a decade of my lifespan missing. Besides, I thought I can do more good here," the younger cop explained. "I want to see the Powerpuff Girls. I'm sure I'm not the only one. The world's crazy about them. There's no shortage of vacancies here, so I took a spot."

"Welcome to Townsville then. Like I said, there're two kinds of officers here. The smart ones and the dumb ones, the winners and the losers. Guess which one's us?" the older cop said. He crossed his legs.

"We're the winners, right? The Powerpuff Girls have our backs, right? Saw them on the news the other day. They kicked the Yakuza's ass to kingdom come, those same cut-throats who helped push the FBI out!" the younger cop said with childish enthusiasm and optimism, which the older cop scoffed at.

"The Powerpuff Girls ain't shit. They've been knocking out the little guys, the competition. They haven't touched the big boys yet. Gee, I wonder why?" the older cop said cynically. Bunny, who'd been listening closely, didn't like the way the old man talked about her sisters. Not at all. "Maybe they're cowards. Maybe they're weak. Well, I'll tell you why - I'm betting they're already in the pocket of the Amoeba Boys, just like half the city, and it's about to get a whole lot worse."

"Then why are you the loser? Why not join the winning team?" the younger cop questioned his older counterpart, upset by what the veteran had said. "Why stay out here with me and risk dying from the cold or the bums?"

The old cop laughed. "Old habit, I guess. Got nothing else to live for."

"You and me both," the younger cop agreed.

Bunny had heard enough. Jumping out of cover, she fired two well-placed shots, one going through the head of the younger cop while the other was aimed at the heart of the older cop, who fell out of his chair. The older cop was able to pull his service pistol out despite his injury. Bunny sprinted up to him to kick it out of the way before putting her foot in his face.

The old cop was still alive, fighting for every breath he took, his hand clutching his chest wound. Bunny's orders were clear. She was to kill everyone at the crime scene. No survivors, no witnesses. It was the very nature of black ops that Bunny was resigned to, especially considering the fact that anyone in her path was a liability who'd likely betray her or her family for what she would do. That was what General Blackwater said, and Rook had repeated his assertion.

Bunny gazed at the old cop's face, so drawn with wrinkles and now lined with pain. She felt pity for the man, but at the same time anger for having called Blossom, Bubbles and Buttercup names - after everything they'd done for the city! She pointed her suppressed pistol at his head and fired another round.