Chapter 3

"After him!" Walker roared, instigating the chase. He looked at one soldier. "Brown! Call fer backup, NOW! Thomas! Get moving!"

"Yes, sir!" The blue-eyed soldier named Brown was already rapidly talking on his com link. "Yes, we had a case of resisting arrest and assault. When we tried to take the gang member in, he gunned down two of our Specials. We are requesting backup! I repeat, we are requesting backup!"

The other livid soldier, Thomas, was ahead of him, gun out and at the ready, just waiting for the first moment to set eyes on his prey. Revenge was teeming throughout his movements, like the pouring rain. He couldn't wait to get his hands on that little brat, that offspring of a demon, who would dare to go against members of the authoritarian government, the ultimate organization, OZ.To him, this kid was probably not just a member of a gang -- his shooting ability was simply too accurate. He might just be one of the rebels.

Of course all three soldiers have seen their friends die in battle; any hardened soldier has. They've seen comrades get blown up inside their Mobil Suits in space; they've seen things that would make any newbie vomit. However, this wasn't any "warrior." This wasn't even a soldier in their eyes. To Thomas, this kid…this…scum was from those galling, wretched rebels that shouldn't even exist.

OZ needed a good alibi to undergo straightforward war with the colonies (war would be so much faster than time-consuming negotiations), and they knew the rebels and the colonies had a certain connection. The only problem was evidence. They couldn't prove for a fact that the Rebel Alliance came directly from the colonies. Nonetheless…all it would take was one person from the Alliance to squeal. And who could divulge secrets better than a child?

'A perfect opportunity for OZ,' the corner of Thomas's mouth curled into a sneer. He made a mental note to let his musings be made known to Captain Walker when they joined up again.

He had to be one of the rebels. That was clear. No average fool could kill an OZ soldier (and who would want to, anyway?). The Alliance was also known to have trained children ever since they were very young to be a generation of "super killers," who would be able to take life without a second thought. Yes, no question about it, he was from the Rebel Alliance.

Brown closed his beeper and first turned towards his leader. "Backup is on the way, sir!" he shouted, and Heero heard every word of that.

"Good, then let's split up!" Walker licked his lips with excitement and dashed off after his companions. He couldn't wait to slice that brat's jugular.

Oh, right. After interrogating him, of course.

Heero ran for his life. The minutes ticked away and the rain kept on coming as the boy rounded a corner. While squinting ahead in the murky lighting, he could make out some derelict subsidized apartments to the left of the doused street. He could see the outlines of the rickety, winding staircase go up to what seemed like the second – and then higher up – the third floor. And to the right were some aging storefronts displaying their goods behind their big storm windows.

Heero ran straight ahead on the side of the street with all the closed stores, still supporting his aching side with one arm. It was truly starting to bother him now, with the way it kept throbbing and bleeding. As the blood was dribbling onto his arm, so was his strength being sapped away. It would only be a matter of time before they caught up to him for certain. Maybe he could hide somewhere in the town and lose them.

No, there was a problem with that plan. Besides his wounded side, another thing that kept annoying him was that every time he seemed to lose those soldiers, every time he slowed down just to catch his breath, he would hear the sloshing of footsteps in muddy puddles, or the shout of someone spotting him.

'For brainless OZ troops, they could sure track well,' Heero thought in frustration as he neared the middle of the block.

His thoughts were abruptly broken as he heard a bullet wiz past his ear. Then another.

Heero turned around. An OZ trooper was running straight for him, gun out and trained on him.

Concerned, Heero knew there was no time to sit and think; there was no way he could kill an OZ soldier in this position without getting somewhat wounded himself. He needed a better, more secure place where he could take him. A radical thought flashed through his mind, and he turned toward one of the storefronts.

With only a second's hesitation, Heero made for one of the stores. He fired a few bullets into the door's glass center.

"Hey! What are you—!"

Heero ignored the screaming protests of the guard and hurriedly kicked the cracked glass from the frame.

Some of the jagged glass pieces were left connected to the window's casing on the door, but Heero ignored the stinging pricks as he stepped inside the store itself.

He looked around. It was a small convenience store, nothing spectacular (the alarm, if there even was one, didn't go off), but it had enough aisles to keep the soldier busy for a while.

He gazed around in the dark store to find a good hiding place. One look at the cashier's counter told him that would be where the OZ soldier would look first, so he hid in an aisle farther back. Heero found himself among the juice aisle; for a small convenience store, this place had an abundance of juice items.

Crouching down, he picked up a glass bottle filled with some kind of citrus drink and held his breath as he heard someone enter.

The crunching of feet on glass was heard. Heero could tell the soldier was walking slowly, examining everything around him, careful not to miss anything…important.

Heero inwardly groaned as he saw the glow from a flashlight shining off the walls. It bobbed up and down as the soldier walked down one aisle, then another. He was getting closer and closer to Heero's spot with each slow, measured step.

"I know why you're here, Rebel!" the voice shouted, a lilt of triumph in the tone. More crunching sounds. "You're trying to make it to Jade -- eh?!" A few bullets fired into the ceiling, probably an attempt to give Heero a psychological jolt of fear. "You're trying to stop our divine conquest! But I'm not gonna let that happen."

Heero tried to make his breathing unhurried and quiet, but it was tough. His hand clasped his side tightly, trying to serve as a sort of coagulation to the blood flow. It hadn't stopped bleeding yet.

And the soldier was getting even closer. "I'm gonna blow those brains out of that pretty little head, Rebel. This'll be for killing my comrades!" He was almost onto him.

He was in the aisle right behind Heero's.

But Heero was ready for this situation.

He knelt on one knee, and held the glass bottle like a club. Then he hurled it to the other side of the store with all his might.

The bottle shattered, and made a loud crashing sound as it collided into other store items. The flashlight immediately turned towards the opposite side of the store and seemed to be moving at a very quick pace. "Ahh, trying to run away, huh?! Well, here I come, Boy!"

With a sneer, Heero gripped his gun decisively and stood; he decided right there to take that guy out.