MEANWHILE IN ITALY
A Gunslinger Girl fanfiction, based on works by Yu Aida.
Thanks to Kiskaloo for the continued loan of Michele and Kara, Professor Voodoo for Marisa, MP5 for Allison and Officer Charon for the SRT.
CH09 – Foundation's Edge
Pushing through glass doors from dull morning sunlight, Danilo managed to keep his voice in civil tones as be bid Jose Croce farewell on the ground floor, before turning left and up the dormitory stairs to retrieve his own cyborg. The day had not started out so sour, quite to the contrary in fact: the prospect of a mission had been a welcome relief, a culmination of his work to date. After over a month of training and slouching around the compound, it would be good to be back in the saddle, good to once more carry the weight of a fully-loaded pistol and shoulder rig with purpose, and he had arrived at the breakfast-hour briefing in good spirits. Now those were gone, eked away as each person present was assigned their role. He was no fool, he had been doing this long enough to recognise the rookie position when he saw it: turn up for the experience, but stay where you could be kept an eye on and wouldn't cause any lasting harm.
Yes, C. Raych was inexperienced, but so were all of the cyborgs, that was why handlers were assigned in the first place: to direct the weapon using their own skill and knowledge. That was his part of the equation to fulfil. The SWA had chosen him after all, not the other way around, so why not utilise what he could do? His unit had passed her VdCO, and in record time to boot, not just any handler could have managed that, even one lucky enough to receive a squared away build.
It was a pointless fucking mission to put him on anyway, leave the spy work for the spies and put his fratello somewhere he would be useful.
Still fuming, those thoughts brought Danilo finally to the top floor and, striding down the corridor, he rapped loudly on his cyborg's door before throwing it open.
Nothing.
The room beyond was empty, devoid of either his charge or her roommate. Jose probably wasn't having this problem, the generation ones sounded a hell of a lot more obedient. Some moron, soft touch, doctor had probably decided that was a bad thing though, because it certainly didn't seem to have carried over to the second generation.
Returning to the corridor, the handler ran his gaze up and down facing rows of identical doors.
Well, fucked if he was going to try every single one.
By virtue of being the only space furnished with a television, albeit one incapable of receiving outside broadcasts, it had not taken long for Allison's shared room to become the second generation communal meeting place of choice. That remained true even when, like today, the device in question remained resolutely extinguished.
Sitting on the foot of her sister's bed, across from Petra's vacant berth, Kara glanced over at the reason for that: Raych was positioned on the floor in her loose top and black leggings, back to the blank screen. Unfortunately, Mr. Olivetti still had not signed off to allow his girl any viewing material, but for now her presence remained sporadic enough that most tended not to complain. At that moment she was toying with the wrapped laces of her boots, eyes downcast, while the two other cyborgs present chatted: Allison leant against the wall farther up her ruffled duvet, and Marisa sprawled out to look at the older girls upside down from the carpet.
Well, small steps.
Curling the loose end of a lace around her finger, Raych kept staring down. She was glad Kara had brought her along, happy that the others were willing to have her. They were nice to her, they really were but... but, she always felt like an outsider, she never knew what to say. She really should say something, but what if she said the wrong thing? She had not needed to say anything to annoy Henrietta... though, when she thought about it, that issue seemed to have been fixed by her actually saying something.
Raising her eyes, the girl glanced around at the other three: Marisa waving hands above herself as she described something, Allison laughing while Kara tried to speak across the noise.
Someone was missing, someone...
"Umm... where is Petra? Petra is normally here is she not?" The other conversation ceased as three sets of eyes turned to her, and Raych shrank back under their gaze. "I mean, umm... sorry."
Now however, Allison grinned. "Don't be sorry... you probably just haven't noticed 'cause you've been busy. Petra's deployed right now, has been for three? Four days?"
"Four," certified Kara.
"Either way, I've got the place to myself for a bit."
Petra was deployed? Now Raych leaned forward eagerly. "Do you know what she was doing?"
That was met with a shrug. "Who knows? She was headed up to Rome, but we don't get told much until it's all over."
"Considering how long she's been gone already, it's probably undercover work or surveillance of some description..."
"Sucks to be her then," Kara tailed off as Marisa rolled up into a sitting position, spinning on her buttocks to face the others, "tried stakeouts, stakeouts are boring."
"Umm, Danilo says we are an assault fratello so..."
"Yes, but Mr. Ricci and Petra do intelligence work, Marisa," returned the Asian featured girl, "surveillance is part of their job."
"That doesn't make it any less boring... could you imagine spending Christmas doing that?"
Now Allison's expression became sly. "I think so long as she gets to spend it with Mr. Ricci, Petra will be happy whatever she does for Christmas. After all, they do have a 'special relationship'."
"Gross!"
Raych looked at the carpet again: Petra would be really lucky if she could spend Christmas with Mr. Ricci. Would she be able to spend Christmas with Danilo? She hoped so, it would be nice if she could... for that matter, what did he do for Christmas? What were they supposed to do for Christmas?"
"Umm..." eyes turned to her again, "...umm... what do you, I mean, fratelli, normally do for Christmas?"
"It really depends on the fratello in question." Leaning back, arms propping her up from behind, Kara's head tilted skyward to look pensively at the ceiling. "Most of the staff leave, and some handlers go away too. Personally, I'm hoping Michele lets me stay with him in Milan for the holidays."
"Elio and I went to Bruges last Christmas."
"And Brian keeps saying something about visiting his family."
"So they can take us with them?"
"They can if they want, some do, some don't, and some actually just stay here, or at least come to visit..."
"And of course, someone always draws the short straw," interjected Allison, "holiday duty fratello."
Raych barely caught the last part, mind elsewhere: so they could go away with their handlers over Christmas, and she had her VdCO now too. Maybe Danilo would take her away somewhere. Should she ask him? She did not want to annoy him though, to be a problem to him... maybe she should just wait for him to suggest it: if the other handlers did then... it would be nice though, going away, with her handler...
"Anyway, you weren't in Bruges for Christmas..." the other girls were still talking, "...you were there just before, for work, not holidays."
"Uh, yeah Allie... but diving, with Mr. Blacker and Monty, stealing priceless artefacts, from Nazis. Sounds like Christmas to me."
Raych's ears pricked up at that: Marisa had worked with Monty?
Unfortunately her opportunity to ask was terminated, as at that moment a thunderous bellow erupted from the corridor outside.
"Cyborg Raych! Front and centre! Now!"
Four girls made four identical startled leaps, but only Raych continued her trajectory, rising to her feet as happiness welled up inside her. Danilo was here! She had not expected to see him today, he had said he was going to be away. Maybe she should ask him about taking her with him? She would like that...
Without even a word of farewell, the newest cyborg ran for the door, narrowly avoiding treading on Marisa, and leaving three perplexed expressions in her wake.
Danilo was waiting for her in the corridor, and she jogged to a halt before him. Why was he here? Were they training again? Was he happy to see her? She hoped he was happy to see her... should she ask about Christmas?
"Good morning, Danilo."
Standing back, the man looked her up and down. "Get your kit C. Raych: jacket, holster and full pistol case. We're being deployed."
It took a moment for that news to sink in. Deployed? She was being deployed? She was being deployed! She had passed her VdCO and now the Agency had accepted her as one of its own, one who could be useful to it and to her handler!
"I'll wait here, so hurry up."
"Yes, sir!"
All thought of holidays forgotten, Raych dove through her room's door, leaving it swinging in her wake.
Quickly she was at her wardrobe, wrenching it open count off items as she collected them: jacket, holster and pistol case, as ordered. She paused, did she need anything else? She didn't think she needed anything else... Danilo would have said if she needed anything else.
Closing the wardrobe again, she took a moment to glance in the mirror affixed to its front, studying the cyborg looking back at her. She could be proud of that cyborg, an Agency cyborg, about to be sent on her first mission: a useful cyborg. She hoped Danilo would be proud of her too. She had passed her VdCO, done everything Danilo had told her to, and now she was about to go off campus with him. He had been proud when she passed, he had said he was proud... she would make him proud again, she would get to hear those words again. She would.
Stepping out into the corridor once more, Raych presented for inspection.
Giving her a fast look over, her handler nodded. "Show me your pistol case."
Jacket tucked under one arm, the girl unlocked her Steyr's protective box and turned it around before lifting the lid. She hoped everything was there, everything should be there... Danilo would tell her if it was not.
A moment later, the man nodded again. "Close it and follow me."
"Yes, Danilo."
He did not wait for her, striding away toward the stairs, and she was forced to trot after him, securing her firearm once more as she went. Obviously he was in a hurry, of course he would be in a hurry, they were being deployed. That made it urgent.
Doing her next few paces at a run, Raych pulled up behind her handler in time to follow down the steps in his wake, always just behind, until they reached the ground floor. As Danilo pushed out into the winter morning she felt cold air strike her, and the girl shivered. He was still moving though, no time to put on her coat, not if she wanted to keep up, but they would be in his car soon anyway.
With that thought, she looked down toward the road, and missed a step: Danilo's car was not there. Had he walked? Surely he had not walked, Danilo would not walk...
Seemingly her pause was noted, because the man gestured to a different vehicle, lower and sleeker than his Honda, parked to one side of the gravel strip. "Over there, it's new."
"It is new?"
"Yes."
Raych studied the car closer: it was black, just like his last one... but beyond that she was lost. It certainly looked nice, of course it would be nice, Danilo had bought it, it was probably nicer than anything owned by anyone else's handler. As they approached, her handler removed the key fob from his pocket, pressing it to make the indicators flash and two thin rows of lights appear below squinting headlamps.
"It is... nice."
"It is."
"Umm... what is it?"
Reaching the vehicle, Danilo opened the rear door for her. "Lexus CT200h, now get in."
The last words were sharper and, wincing, Raych did as she was told, settling onto black leather. She had annoyed him, she knew she had annoyed him... she shouldn't ask so many questions. If Danilo needed her to know something, he would tell her what it was, she did not need to ask questions, she should remember that.
Now Danilo settled into the driver's seat, closing his own door and fastening the seatbelt. As she watched, he pressed something on the dashboard before pulling a lever across and down. There was no engine noise though, was it broken? Surely her handler had not bought a broken car, Danilo would not do something like that...
Suddenly, silently bar tyres crunching on gravel, the car pulled away, and Raych stifled a little yelp of surprise. It was so quiet! Were all cars like this? Danilo's last car had not been like this, but that had apparently been an old car, not a new car, new was better, or was this car special? Of course it was special, Danilo had bought it.
There was the thrum as the engine finally came to life.
Oh...
She had not been told where they were going, but it soon became clear they were headed for the armoury. Of course they were headed for the armoury; if she was going on a mission she would need bullets. Her very first mission, perhaps she would even be allowed to shoot someone, she hoped she would be allowed to, that Danilo would order her to. Of course he would order her to, why else did she exist? With just him and her, of course he would order her to.
It was with some disappointment then that she found the semi-buried structure's parks already part occupied by a low car with fabric roof and a large, white, van: the latter positioned lengthways across multiple bays.
So it would not just be them, other people would be coming too.
Bringing her pistol case as ordered, Raych followed her handler down the short flight of steps, through the bunker's front door, and into a hive of activity. The normally deserted anteroom was full, loud, busy, and the cyborg was suddenly on high alert. Scanning a crowd of fatigue clad men, she started to relax again: she knew some of the faces, no names, but faces, these were SRT commandos, they were on her side.
Still looking, her brain threw up another piece of information: their normally un-marked uniforms bore Nucleo Operativo Centrale di Sicurezza patches. Why were they wearing...
Suddenly she tensed again. Amongst their number stood caporalmaggiore capo Bianchi, an MP5 submachine gun hanging from the sling around his neck. As if feeling eyes on him, the SRT's leader turned, finding her, and he halted for the briefest moment to glare, whilst around him, his unit continued loading magazines and checking equipment. It was only for a split second, but it was enough, and she cowered back.
"Wait by the wall..." Danilo was talking, "...I'm going to draw ammunition."
And suddenly she was alone, abandoned. Desperately, Raych searched the room, trying to locate a friendly face in the sea of unfamiliar bodies.
She found one, or one close enough to do the job at least.
Almost running, the girl made her way to where Henrietta sat on the wall-mounted bench, quickly and efficiently loading P90 magazines with her small fingers, placing each full box in an open violin case beside the weapon itself.
"Hello, Henrietta."
Pausing, the little generation one looked up. "Oh, hello Raych. Are you coming too?"
What was she supposed to say to that? Did Henrietta know it was her first mission? Surely she would... but what if she did not? Would she want an inexperienced cyborg with her?
"Umm, yes, yes I am... Umm, can I wait here? Danilo is drawing ammunition and, umm, I do not know anyone else." She halted, hands dry washing before her. "Well, except for caporalmaggiore capo Bianchi... but I do not think he likes me."
By now the brunette had returned to loading her magazines. "If you like. Rico was here too, but she's already gone."
Sitting down uneasily, Raych kept looking at her hands. So, Rico was coming too. Part of her was happy about that. She would not be alone, someone would be there to help, another cyborg. Another part was however horribly disappointed. She had been looking forward to going away with Danilo, going on a mission, just the two of them. Other girls got to do that, so why could she not?
And, of course, even without other cyborgs, Danilo would always be there to tell her what to do.
What did that say about Danilo if they were not sent out by themselves? Was she causing him trouble again? Was he being held back because of her?
Letting fingers tangle and untangle before her, the generation two sat in silence, gentle click of rounds tapping against each other adding a subtle beat over the room's noise. What was taking Danilo so long? There had not been a line at the counter, at least, she did not think there had been a line at the counter.
She looked up again.
Danilo was talking to the clerk and, eyes still raised, she glanced quickly at the younger girl beside her. She should say something, but what was she supposed to say? She really had nothing to talk about.
Artificial eyes scanned the room again and, this time, she caught another glimpse of caporalmaggiore capo Bianchi.
"Caporalmaggiore capo Bianchi is really scary is he not?"
Henrietta paused again in her work to think. "I guess, he is... but he has to be scary, I think."
"Are all of them like him?"
The other's bob-cut swayed as she shook her head. "No. Some of them I think, but Mr. Fausto and Mr. Darme are really nice. Sometimes they bring me sweets."
Raych glanced across again at the group of blue-clad men, just in time to see one massive commando pull on a gas mask, testing the seal, before shouldering his submachine gun to check its sights. Somehow she was not sure if she believed Henrietta. Those did not appear like friendly people.
In the foreground of that scene however appeared Mr. Croce, putting a welcome barrier between her and the commandos as he walked toward the pair. Offering a faint smile, the handler then turned his attention to his own cyborg.
"Are you ready, Henrietta?"
There was a clack as the girl in question snapped her P90's final magazine smartly into place, then charged the compact rifle to chamber a round. Safing the weapon, she placed it carefully in her violin case and locked the disguise closed.
"Yes, Jose."
"Then come along, we need to get moving."
"Yes, Jose." Trotting off after he handler, the young operative turned briefly to look back at her sister. "Good luck Raych, I will see you there."
"Goodbye, Henrietta."
At the armoury clerk's window, Danilo fumed. "What do you mean I can't have her rifle?"
Behind his desk, the other man shrugged. "I'm sorry sir, I can issue you a rifle but, as your cyborg has never drawn one for training, I cannot issue it to her for a mission."
"She has passed her VdCO, her Verifica della Competenza Operativa."
"Be that as it may sir, she has had no prior experience with long arms, and I therefore cannot allow her take it off-campus: chief's directive."
The handler scowled. This was ridiculous, exactly how many hoops was he expected to jump through to get his cyborg functioning and operational? Every time he thought he was there, some arsehole moved the goalposts. Frankly, any goalposts for him to hit shouldn't have existed anyway, not if the engineers and medicos had got the damn things right first time. The generation ones seemed fine to him, obedient and requiring no explanations, they were known quantities. Exactly how fucking difficult could it be to create a standard and stick to it?
Pinching the bridge of his nose, he changed a number on the form held under one hand, before sliding it back across the bench top. "Fine, just give me the ammunition and, say, six spare magazines."
Picking up the form, the clerk studied it. "What firearms are you using?"
"Steyr M9-A1, for myself and the cyborg."
That got a grimace.
"I don't know if we have spare magazines for those. I'll check, but I doubt it." There was a pause as he tapped away at the computer keyboard. "No, sorry, no spare magazines."
Danilo could not help himself. "What the fuck do you mean you have no spare magazines?"
The voice which answered was tinged with exasperation. "Signor, you're using non-standard firearms, and you are the only people in the organisation using them. So unless you order it, we don't hold anything for them in stock."
"That's fucking ridiculous: surely you'd be smart enough to hold spares for weapons in circulation."
"We do, for agency standard items. Anything beyond that, we can't get the funds released unless you raise a req. for it. It's not our job to work out what you might need."
Opposite, the handler let out a low growl. "Then consider this a request now: I want two additional pistols, spare parts to go with each, and twenty additional magazines."
Calmly, the clerk produced two more forms and slid them across the counter top. "Then you will need this one for the firearms, and this second for everything else. Fill them out, get your commander to sign them, and return them here or to Milani. Wait while I get your ammunition."
Glaring at the paper in his hands, Danilo studied what was printed on the two sheets: nice to be given some fucking warning. He didn't have time for this now and, folding them roughly, stuffed the pair in a jacket pocket as the clerk returned carrying five boxes of ammunition. Placing those boxes on the desk, the man added two more small, plain white packages to their number, before sliding everything to the waiting handler.
"Two-hundred-fifty rounds of nine millimetre hollow point, and two radio sets," the smile which accompanied the next words dripped with condescension, "have a good day sir, and good luck."
Not replying, the former Guardia man picked up his acquisitions, and turned to face the room, searching for his charge. Quickly he found her, sitting by the rear wall, staring down at her feet and, making his way over, the handler dumped two, fifty round boxes of ammunition within the cyborg's reach, before fixing her with a glare. "On your feet C. Raych. Why aren't you geared up?"
Responding almost as the words left his mouth, C. Raych leapt to attention. "Sorry, sir but... you did not tell me to. Umm... sorry."
No, he hadn't had he? Well, he had wanted her, did want her, to follow orders...
From the room's other extremity came the clatter of equipment being lifted, and the SRT commandos began to troop out behind him. Slightly mollified, Danilo took a deep breath before releasing it slowly, calming himself. It was the damn clerk's fault, if the man had been a bit more helpful, if the logistics monkeys had used their brains and told him earlier about the need for a req., this would not have happened.
"No, I did not. Well done." Putting down the rest of his burden, the agent picked up his charge's holster and magazine carrier. "Stand still and lift your arms."
She did as instructed, causing the loose folds of her top to hang proud of her body. Moving forward he fitted both items, the holster riding high on her right hip, with magazines carried opposite and slightly behind: easy to access but where they too would be concealed by cascading fabric.
Not yet releasing C. Raych from that position, the handler then picked up one of the little white boxes he had been given, opening its end to dump the contents into a palm. One item was then held up for his charge to inspect: a tiny, flesh coloured earpiece.
"Pay attention C. Raych. This is an ear bud radio, it will let us talk to each other and the rest of the SWA without anyone else noticing. This bit goes in your ear..." he then displayed a small, but fairly standard looking, handheld transceiver, "...this goes on your waist, forward of your magazine carrier. Stand still again."
Stepping forward once more, Danilo activated the bug, before fitting it into his cyborg's left ear. This at least was good equipment: no wires and the like to help betray its presence, someone would have to be looking very closely to notice it. Unfortunately, there was only so much could be crammed into such a small package, so it needed something to boost the signal over even minimal distances, not to mention carry the Agency's scrambler and cipher gear. That was the second part of the system and, turning the two-way on, he clipped it to his charge's belt.
"Stand easy, I'm going to do a radio check." Picking up the other white box, he extracted the second radio, verifying it was on the correct frequency, and raised it to his mouth. "Radio check. C. Raych, can you hear me?"
"Yes, sir."
He dropped his hand again. "Good. We will be on the same group comms as the rest of the SWA up there, so just listen in and don't say anything unless instructed."
"Yes, Danilo."
Fitting his own ear bug, Danilo concealed the second radio before picking up the remaining ammunition again. "Load your magazines in the car, we need to get moving."
"Yes, Danilo."
Grabbing her pistol case and two boxes of rounds, Raych fell into step behind her master. This was it, her first mission. She was going off campus for the first time, she was going off campus with Danilo for the first time... with Danilo. Today she would be of use to him. She could not wait.
She would have to load her magazines quickly, she did not want to miss anything.
Being let into the Lexus's rear seat once more, the girl got to work. Opening up her pistol case, she emptied an ammunition box into its lid, before raising the first magazine from its foam padding. The loader went neatly over its top and, picking up the first round she locked it into place.
Another was selected, her finger running across its flattened and bored-out tip, sending another little twinge of excitement through her: hollow points, Danilo had given her hollow points. Unlike the cheap ball rounds she had used to date, these were man-stoppers, specifically intended to kill as efficiently as possible, the tools of a proper cyborg.
She hoped she would get to use them.
She was almost done by the time they reached the compound gate, pausing so the guard could compare her face to something on a card Danilo handed over. He must have been happy with whatever he saw because, moments later, the boom blocking their exit was raised. Bumping over a hump below it they were out, out of the compound, out into the countryside.
Raych wanted to look, she really wanted to look, but she had to finish loading first, and rapidly the cyborg filled her third and final magazine, which was rammed home into the pistol's grip. Racking its slide to chamber the first round, the girl lifted her top before twisting awkwardly to get the Steyr into its holster. Feeling it lock home she relaxed, then carefully emptied the unused rounds back into their box, which was placed with the rest of Danilo's ammunition on the rear floor, and her pistol case closed.
She was ready, she could not wait.
Nose glued to window glazing, Raych watched as the world sped past, a world she had only ever heard of and read about. It was so big, even under grey skies it was so big, and so different. Every time she looked out it seemed to have changed again. Compared to the tended and controlled landscape of the compound there was so much she was unfamiliar with, how did people deal with it? How did other cyborgs deal with it? Was she supposed to somehow remember what to do with every single rock, tree and building out here?
But she wanted to see it all. Would Danilo let her see it all? Would he tell her what to do with everything she could see?
More kilometres swept by. She did not know where they were going, Danilo had not told her where they were going, so obviously she did not need to know. Outside however the rolling landscape of farms and low villages slowly gave way to more urban scenes: to factories, shops and concrete barrier, until finally, grassed hills disappeared completely behind buildings and paved roads, and they swung off the busy motorway into quieter streets.
Some smattering of what might have been greenery during warmer months remained in evidence: a tree here, a shrub there, now bare for the winter, but this was obviously a big town.
Their path narrowed further and, in her seat, Raych let fingers brush against her pistol. The walls were close, too close for comfort, balconied apartment blocks standing five or six storeys above them, blocked and roller-shuttered fronts facing outward. It was dangerous here, something was telling her it was dangerous, she did not like it at all: Danilo was putting himself in danger.
"C. Raych, we're almost there. Be ready."
"Yes, sir."
The next turning brought the Lexus into another slender bit of tarmac, barely wide enough for it to squeeze between parked cars on one side and footpath barriers on the other. Now looking around constantly, Raych's keen vision suddenly caught a familiar flash of red hair.
Was that Petra?
She looked again: it was Petra, seated with her handler before a small, street level bar. But was not Petra in Rome? She was certain the other girls had said that, which meant, if Petra was in Rome, and she could see Petra, then she had to be in Rome too. They had driven all the way to Rome, Rome! It may as well have been another planet: she had never been so far in her life!
Drawing level with her sister, she gave a cheery wave.
Nothing. No response.
She waved again.
Still nothing... and then they were past. Had that really been Petra? Could she have been wrong? But it had to have been did it not? It had looked like her, and her handler, but then why had the elder girl not waved back? Had Raych done something to annoy her? She did not remember doing anything to annoy her... Had she just not seen her? But cyborg vision was too good for that. What other explanation could there be? She could have annoyed her, just because she did not remember annoying her did not mean it had not happened, she had annoyed Henrietta by accident after all. She would have to be more careful.
Petra had always been nice though, and was friends with Kara, Kara would have told her if there was something wrong. Was it just because Mr. Ricci had such a close eye on her right now? But... Mr. Ricci was nice too, at least, she had been told he was nice.
She hoped she had not done anything wrong.
Nearing the street's end, she felt the car slow. At the same time, Danilo reached down to press a button on the dashboard and the engine cut out, vehicle swinging silently off the road, opposite to that side Petra had been sitting on, into a narrow driveway set between two buildings.
Peering past the seat in front of her, Raych looked forward. Ahead, the tarmac bent right to cut behind the apartment blocks they had just passed on the street, cars again lining its edges. Ignoring the turn however, Danilo brought his Lexus to a halt, pulling in silently between two other vehicles.
Releasing the steering wheel, he reached up to touch his ear. "Zero Alpha, Aurora is in position, over."
"Thank you Aurora..."
Raych jumped. She had not been expecting that. That was Mr. Croce, at least, it sounded like Mr. Croce, the older one, slightly delayed and grainy through the little bit of plastic in her own ear. She could hear everyone.
"...All call signs, we are clear to proceed. Seven minutes."
Seven minutes until what?
Not turning in his seat, Danilo started to speak. "Take your seatbelt off."
She did as instructed.
"Now listen carefully C. Raych. Do you see the second building in?"
"Yes, Danilo."
"The top floor is an enemy safe house. Our target for today is inside." He paused. "Jose has point, our job is to make sure no-one escapes out the back or across the driveway."
Now, an A4 photograph was passed to her. "This is the man you are looking for, so study it closely. If you see him, you are ordered to shoot him. Is that clear?"
"Yes, Danilo."
"Repeat it back to me."
"If I see this man, I am ordered to shoot him, Danilo."
"Good. If the target is not in the apartment when Jose gets there, the SRT will sweep the building. There are civilians living in the other residences, so if the SRT have to go into action you stay hidden in the car and do not engage. Repeat that back to me."
Raych swallowed, there was so much to remember... "If... if the SRT go into action, I am not to leave the car, and I am to stay hidden, Danilo. I do not engage."
"That's correct." Still facing forward, the man gestured now toward the back of the car park, across a patch of waste ground to another tall apartment complex. "Do you see that building, C. Raych?"
"Yes, Danilo."
"Commander Croce is on top of it with Rico," his voice was a growl now, "if the target escapes while the SRT are inside, they will cover our area with sniper fire."
"Yes, Danilo."
"Now check your gun is ready and stay alert."
"Yes, Danilo."
Twisting again so she could get at it, Raych removed her Steyr from its holster and pulled the slide back slightly to make sure there was a round chambered, before replacing it. Her excitement was gone now: Danilo had been so serious, she had never seen him so serious, what if she messed up? She did not want to mess up, but there was so much to remember. Were all missions going to be this complicated? She did not know if she could remember everything he had told her.
What if she forgot?
From the front seat came a rustle, and she glanced up to see her handler unfold two sheets of paper on his steering wheel, beginning to write on them.
He was so calm. How could he be so calm? Danilo really was amazing.
Forcing eyes down once more, she studied the photo in her own hands. In it was a man, with thin hair and glasses. He was not looking at the camera, had he not wanted his photo taken? She had seen Henrietta taking pictures sometimes, and everyone looked at the camera when she asked, maybe he was just shy. He did not look unfriendly, but Danilo said he was an enemy, so he was obviously an enemy, and if she saw him, she was to kill him.
Unless the SRT arrived, then she was not to kill him.
She repeated the order again in her head, trying to burn it into her memory.
Kill him, unless the SRT arrive.
Kill him, unless the SRT arrive.
Kill him unless...
Her earpiece crackled. "All call signs, Black Swan. Orions One and Two are entering the building. Standby."
"Eyes up C. Raych. Watch the side driveway, I'll watch the car park."
Putting her photo down, the cyborg looked instead toward the street. "Yes, Danilo."
Silence.
She was nervous now. Was she really ready for this? That had been Mr. Ricci on the radio before, she thought it had been Mr. Ricci at least, and he had sounded calm too. Everyone had been really calm at the armoury as well, calm and professional. Henrietta had been calm, and she was lucky enough to be taking the point role. Raych did not feel calm, she felt nervous, very nervous. What if she messed up? What would people think of Danilo if she messed up? Was she really ready for this? She did not feel ready. She had passed her VdCO, that was supposed to prove her readiness... but she did not feel ready at all.
She did not want to disappoint Danilo.
Suddenly, from high above, came a muffled, drawn-out burst of automatic gunfire, then another, and Raych flinched as it jerked her from her thoughts. More shots, a couple of single bangs from a pistol and... nothing.
Her earpiece crackled again. "This is Orion. Target is secured."
Half a heartbeat passed.
"All call signs, Zero Alpha. Hold position until the cleanup crew arrives, then make your exits. Well done."
Was that it?
Was that all?
But... she had not got to do anything.
How was she supposed to make Danilo proud if she did not do anything?