Chapter LVII: Va, Pensiero.

0600hrs, 20 December 2013, Near Via San Gallo, Florence, Italy

"By the rivers of Babylon we sat and wept when we remembered Zion. There on the poplars we hung our harps, for there our captors asked us for songs, our tormentors demanded songs of joy." Psalm 137: 1-3.

"I know I only killed four people this month...but last month I killed at least ten!" Henrietta, Gunslinger Girl.

Lita, Raye, and Serena walked down the Via San Gallo, a sleepy cobblestone street in the center of Florence, Italy. They had been dropped off from the airport by a couple of men in a van, who had spoken no words to them on the drive there. Serena figured that they were with intelligence or something like that.

"Is that the Hotel Ricasoli?" Raye asked Serena, trying to get a fix on her HUD. They were all wearing fashionable glasses, which didn't really suit Raye all that much. Jeans, long sleeved shirts and some ill-fitting winter coats were the order of the day, the latter provided by the suspicious men in the van.

"Yeah, that's the place," Serena yawned, still sleepy by the trip they took over here. Amy and Mina were used to travelling all over the place while the other three had mostly stayed in Asia to do the dirty work of Nakanishi. Their kill count was much higher, but Amy and Mina had more experience in these types of covert operations than they did.

They continued to walk down San Gallo, past the hotel and toward a T-intersection. On their right was the hotel, with an entrance for cars and such just a couple of meters away. On their left was an alcohol store, a restaurant, and a fax/copier store. All of them were closed at the moment, shutters covering the windows to prevent the occasional drunk or enterprising graffiti artists from making their mark on the more valuable windowpanes.

Graffiti, like wine, good food and women, was Italy's pastime. Ever since the Roman Republic, and probably before then, ordinary people had scribbled their thoughts and opinions on building walls, explaining to the world why they thought this way and why it should be changed. Some of it was frivolous, like a declaration of love…others, it was way more political. They were still painting over anti-Berlusconi graffiti.

"That's the café we're supposed to meet," Lita pointed out. The HUD conveniently located the café and gave waypoints until they reached their destination.

"Doesn't look open yet," Serena noted. "We'll just wait here."

"Who are these guys we're supposed to meet?" Lita asked Serena. Luna and Artemis were not available due to the ongoing operations at Yokota Air Base, and plus, these girls had enough experience to handle things on their own. Supposedly.

"Luna said that these guys run a program similar to ours. It's called the…" She dug out her small tablet computer from her purse and unlocked it. "The Social Welfare Agency," she read from the briefing document.

"Doesn't sound very conspicuous," Raye noted. "Unlike our name."

They stayed quiet for a moment, soaking in the cold air that surrounded them. Florence, like many cities at this time, was chilly, and had significantly less tourists around. Serena noted a large church in the distance; on her HUD, it came up as the "Basilica di Santa Maria del Fiore."

"That's a nice looking church," Raye said. "Much better than the small chapel they had back at school."

"You never did tell us why you went to Catholic school." Lita picked at her nails, cut short by the constant wear and tear on them. "You told Mina back then, but not us."

"Dad made me," Raye replied, somewhat bitterly. "Wanted me to be like him. Wanted a nice daughter to show off to the media when he made PM. That's all."
"Really? I've never heard you talk about that," Lita said back. Raye just shrugged.

"Now, it's your turn," Raye smirked, changing the topic abruptly. "Tell me something that I've never heard about you?"

"I wanted to get married and open a flower shop,"

"I already knew that…"

"This year."

"For fucks sake," Raye groaned. "Lita, no one marries at our age anymore. It's like you live in the 90's or something."

Lita rolled her eyes at Raye, and continued on with her explanation. "I was hoping to find something…anything. I wanted to settle down, raise a nice family, with that one special person. Well, after this…"

"Come on, Lita. At least this popped some sense into you." Raye sure seemed against the idea of marriage.

They lapsed into silence for awhile after that, wondering how exactly they were going to readjust to society after all of this was over.

"Hey…hey!" Serena turned around to see someone waving them over to the small café on the corner near the hotel. She nodded her head in acknowledgement and the three of them walked over to the café.

The person who had called them over, a man in his early thirties with wavy dark brown hair and a toned build, opened the door to the café, inviting them in to the warm place.

Most stores and institutions didn't open this early in the day (unlike in America), and would not do so for at least another three or four hours. Don't ever ask an Italian to wake up early, that's for sure.

Serena walked into the store and was hit by a blast of warm air. The café was a cozy place, with a coffee bar, some tables (all wooden), dim lighting, and free wifi.

"Care for some coffee?" the man said.

"Uh…excuse me?" Serena replied. She had no idea what the man had just said to her.

"Oh…er…do you speak English?" he said again. Serena couldn't place his accent, but she thought it sounded German.

"Yeah…a little bit." Serena did admit, her English was getting better all the time. Lita and Raye were still having trouble though, even though they could understand it, they couldn't read English. Or have a decent conversation.

"Would you care for a cappuccino?" he said.

"Yeah. Guys," she turned to Lita and Raye. "Cappuccino?"

"Sure," was the reply from the two of them.

She nodded to the German guy.

"Okay then. Triela, four cappuccinos."

"You got it."

Serena noticed a woman…no, a girl, with tan skin, blonde hair like hers in two very long ponytails, working behind the espresso machine. She didn't look older than fourteen or fifteen.

She wondered what the child labor laws were like here in Italy…maybe they didn't apply?

"Don't mind Triela," the man said to her, sensing her curiosity about the girl tending bar. "She's a bit like you."
"A bit like me?" Serena replied, raising an eyebrow. What exactly did these guys know about us?

"I'm Hilshire." He extended his hand out. Serena took his hand and shook it. "We're with the Social Welfare Agency. Nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you as well, Hilshire. This is Lita and Raye, er, we're with…the Japanese government."

"Hello," both of them said in broken English. They gingerly took his hand, still not used to the fact that some people used physical contact as a greeting and not bowing.

"What are we waiting for?" Serena asked, hesitatingly.

"Well, two more teams are supposed to be coming up from Rome today to help you catch this Zoicite person."

Triela brought over the cappuccinos, along with some sugar for added taste. No artificial sweetener here; coffee was not going to be polluted by the contents of those pink, blue, and yellow packets. She just nodded to the rest of them, and went back behind the bar.

"I didn't hear how bad Italy was hit by the recent terrorist attacks," Serena noted. Raye picked up her coffee cup gingerly, sipping the hot liquid. She recoiled with the bitter taste, but it woke her up nonetheless.

"We got off pretty well unscathed," Hilshire replied, taking a sip from the coffee cup. "The Naval base at Naples got hit by some terrorists, and nearby, at Aviano Air Base was attacked as well, but overall things have been pretty quiet for the most part."

"Who's the girl?" Raye asked Serena. Serena translated her question to Hilshire.

"Triela is one of our cyborgs."

"Cyborgs?"

"Yes, they're cyborgs. Mostly flesh and blood actually, but with some, er, adjustments."

"But they're so young!" Serena exclaimed, taking another look at the girl.

"As opposed to you?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Serena shot back. "We didn't exactly choose this, for your information."

"Hey, hey, I didn't mean any offense," Hilshire raised his hands in mock defeat. "Just stating what I see."

The bell on the door suddenly rang, and the five of them suddenly looked at who was entering. Two more girls, along with two older men walked into the café. One of them had glasses with a stocky build, the other slightly slimmer with short, brown hair. Amongst the girls, one had short, blonde hair, and the other with long, dark hair. Both were dressed in winter clothes.

"Jose, Marco," Hilshire said, getting up from his chair. "I see you got here faster than expected."

"We drove from Rome pretty fast. It helps that the roads are pretty much clear after those terrorist attacks," the man named "Jose" replied to them, in Italian of course.

"Well, these are the operatives from the Japanese government that have come to assist us in taking down our friends from the Nakanishi group," Hilshire stated. "Serena, this is Jose and Marco. They're in charge of Henrietta and Angelica there." After a round of handshakes, Hilshire chatted with the other handlers.

"How is Angelica doing?"

"She's doing well…as can be expected," Marco replied. "The conditioning process is taking its toll." As the handlers talked, the three girls walked over to the SAILOR team.

"Hello," the short blonde haired girl said to Lita. "What's your name?"

"I don't understand you," Lita replied.

The girl looked puzzled for a second, then tried a different track. "Do you speak German or French? English?"

"I speak a little bit of Latin," Raye replied, in…well, Latin. "And a little bit of English." It was the church Latin, not the one spoken back in Ancient Rome. Latin had always been somewhat vulgar, but two-thousand years' worth of changes and a virtually dying out of the language in modern day use (other than in music and liturgy), had corrupted it enough.

"Oh, that's good," the blonde girl said in an odd mixture of Latin and English. "I'm Henrietta."

"Nice to meet you…Henrietta," Raye replied, slowly and carefully, trying to get her point across. "Who's the other person?"

"I'm Angelica."

"That's a nice name," Lita, replied. Again, she was speaking slowly and carefully, like Raye. It was typical of people from different cultures and languages communicating with each other; at least they could commutate effectively with each other. "I'm Lita. This is Raye."

"What kind of name is Lita?" Henrietta asked.

"Well, my parents were kind of eccentric, so they named me after an abbreviated version of Lightning. Hence, Lita."

"That's…interesting," Angelica said back. "Do you know what my name means?"

Lita thought about it for a second. "Angel…? Right?"

"Yeah, that's what it means," she said back, their conversation becoming more natural and fluid.

"Ow…" Triela held her stomach, and winced in pain. All of them turned to her to see what the problem was.

"You okay there?" Serena asked her. The other girls ignored her for a second though.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just my period, that's all."

"Didn't we have this conversation a couple of months ago?" Henrietta inquired.

"And you reminded me that you don't have those parts anymore, thanks for that," Triela hissed back. The pain went away as soon as it came, and Triela stood back up.

"What was wrong with her?" Raye asked Angelica.

"Oh, it was just her period."

"Just her period, huh?" That sparked a thought in Raye's mind. "Guys…when was the last time we had our periods?"

Serena blinked. "The last time I can remember getting them was…"

"…six months ago," Lita finished. "That was when we started the healing solution treatments, and got our modifications."

"Don't tell me that they made us infertile," Serena complained. That was the last thing that they needed to worry about.

"Maybe they just found the solution to PMS," Lita joked. "Kind of like Viagra. Except, more useful."

"Hey, what are you going on about?" Henrietta asked them. "We can't exactly understand you."

"Oh, okay." Lita quickly summed up their conversation.

"Well, I'm sure that's its nothing," Triela said back to them. "What kind of modifications do you have?"

"Ah…" The three SAILOR members gave each other a look. Telling about the microchips was most definitely out of the picture, but bringing up their prosthetics was going to dredge up bad memories. Triela had already brought up that sore spot though, and there was no reason not to tell them that part. It was more out of curiosity than malicious intent anyway.

"Well, I lost my legs in…uh…an accident," Serena replied, slowly saying out the words in her broken English. She hiked up her jeans just enough to show where the artificial legs were attached to her real ones.

"I lost my left arm in…an accident too," Lita added. She took off her jacket and showed the girls the arm. She popped it off, wincing in pain as she did so, and tossed it to Angelica who looked generally surprised that something like that could be done.

"Whoa!" she said, cradling the arm. "That's pretty cool." Henrietta and Triela took a look at the arm before passing it back to Angelica. She handed the arm back, and Lita put it back on.

"I'm pretty strong already, and with that prosthetic arm, I can do a lot more things in combat, or just mundane use. It's a lot easier to take things out of the oven or handle hot items in the kitchen."

"Wow…" Angelica said, in awe of the older girl. "I wish I was that useful."

What's that supposed to mean? Lita thought to herself. Does that mean she's "defective" in some way?

"What parts of you are modified?" Serena questioned Triela.

"Well…pretty much everything besides our brains and internal organs," Triela replied. "I'm not exactly sure about the general specifics myself. They won't tell us much of that information, but from what I've gleaned from the medical staff and other handlers, that's what I'd guess."

"That's…wow." Serena couldn't imagine being mostly artificial limbs.

"What do you guys do for fun?" Henrietta asked her. "You're from Japan, right? That means you've travelled all over the world and stuff!"

"Well, I wouldn't put it that way," Lita replied, smiling embarrassedly. "We're just trying to make things right again."

"Make…make things right? Did you do something wrong?"

"I wouldn't put it like that," Serena corrected. "It's more like, the world is a messed up place. And it's our job to make things right."

"So you make the bad terrorists go away?" Henrietta seemed truly interested in the concept. "And you travel all over the world to do that kind of stuff?"

"I guess so," Raye said.

"What do you think of them?" Jose asked Marco. They were standing in a corner, watching Angelica, Triela and Henrietta interact with the older women.

"They're up to par, with our team, but they've had a lot less experience than our girls. But they can keep up."

Marco took another sip of his double espresso. The bitter coffee kept him awake through the tough missions, and they were going to need much caffeine to power through this one.

"Did you hear about the Turin Nuclear plant?" Jose said, changing the topic.

"What about it?"

"They're planning on opening back up. The PM wants more energy independence."

"Jesus," Marco replied. "That's the last thing we need. Especially after Fukushima, and we don't even have that bad of natural disasters here. But that pales in contrast to what could happen."
"Terrorists?" Jose asked, sipping from his coffee cup.

"Most definitely. The Padinia faction has been relatively quiet, even with this last series of terrorist attacks. I'm surprised that they didn't take this opportunity to inflict some more damage."

"Wonder why that is," Jose replied.

"I dunno." Marco poked at his smart phone before putting it on the table. Not having Patricia around was getting to be a pain, but that was the least of his concerns right now. "But I think security is already tight enough as it is, and the pressure we've been putting on them, we should have them out of business in no time." He took another sip from the coffee, the brownish liquid washing down the lack of sleep.

"I still have a feeling like that goddamned nuclear plant is going to be the death of us all," Jose sighed, putting his coffee cup back onto the saucer. He looked at the girls again. Lita, Raye and Serena seemed to be getting along with the three of the SWA cyborgs. Hell, those three weren't so different from the cyborgs, except they were a bit older and could easily fend for themselves, without a need for handlers or…or any support, for that matter. The intel reports on them had come up blank, besides the fact that they were modified with some prosthetics. They were virtual ghosts in an age where anybody's movement could be tracked and located, with a push of a button, a line of code, or a telephone call.

"Huh…says that they discovered some new element near the Tiber river," Marco absentmindedly commented.

"Are you still looking at that phone?" Jose tried to avoid technological distractions as much as possible, but that was a tall order to follow.

"Sorry, it helps to pass the time. Especially after breaking up with…"

"It's okay."

"Don't they look like a nice bunch of girls." Hilshire had talking on his phone, presumably with someone in Rome (read, Jean), about the situation. "You got the maps and stuff?"

"Right here." Jose pulled out some maps from a briefcase he had brought in, along with more notes about the hotel. "Let's start this then."

"Okay girls," Hilshire called out to the six of them. "Time for the briefing." Everyone complied, shuffling their way over to the table where the three handlers were preparing the briefing.

"Here's the situation," Jose said, unfurling a map of the Hotel Risacoli

"Our sources indicate that Mr. Zoicite is holed up in the hotel here, in the building facing the highway."

"Which room?" Serena got straight to the point.

"Third floor, room 310." Jose circled it on the blueprints and several more rooms around it. "Practically all the rooms on this floor have been taken up by the security detail."

"Weaponry?" Raye asked.

"Mostly Beretta M12s, Sig Sauers 228s, and MP7s. Small, concealable weaponry that packs a punch. Probably wearing Class IIA body armor, disguised as normal street clothes," Rico said, reading off a piece of paper that was probably the intelligence report from Section One.

"What type of guns does your team have?" Hilshire asked the three of them.

"We have our sidearms, Glock 26s, and Lita here is carrying a Glock 30 in a .45 caliber." Serena showed her weapon from her purse.

Marco frowned. "Those might do, but we're probably against twenty hostiles on that floor. We have some submachine guns if you want to use them."

"Henrietta here has a suppressed P90, Triela has a M1897 trench shotgun, and Angelica a Steyr AUG."

"That's a lot of firepower though. Might attract too much attention," Serena pointed out. "Especially after the recent terrorist attacks." Again, there was a little bit of translating involved, but the point got across.

"We're already on that," Marco stated. "There's a cleanup team nearby, they'll handle anything we might cause."

"Well, that's good," Serena said. "We've been both of those at some point."

"Ms. Serena, Ms. Raye, you will go with Henrietta and Triela up the elevators to the third floor, disguising your weapons underneath your clothing and instrument cases. Ms. Lita, you will go with Angelica on the stairwell and prevent any escape from that direction."

"Understood," Lita replied. "What will you three be doing?" she asked suspiciously.

After a second of translating from all parties involved, Jose came up with a response. "We're going to secure the perimeter and ensure that no one gets in or out."

"Civilians?" Lita asked. More translating ensued.

"This is the off season," Marco said. "But what little people are here have been moved out to other hotels, under the guise of an asbestos cleanup operation."

"That's good to hear," Serena exhaled. Too many good people had died in the madness that was Operation TAKE HOLD. She wasn't quite eager to do more killing, but if it meant an end to the conflict, then so be it.

"Mr. Zoicite," a bodyguard said to him. He was in the hotel room, which was pretty well equipped. This was a four star hotel, with a small kitchenette, equipped bathroom, a TV with the BBC World Service, and a fully stocked mini-bar. It also had a nice view of the plaza in the hotel. He noticed however, the normally busy traffic was gone; more than likely, people were staying home due to the recent terrorist attacks.

"Yes, what is it?" he replied nonchalantly.

"Sir, your private jet is almost ready at the airport. It'll take about an hour to get there."
"Fine, fine. I'm just glad that we can get going after all of this. Shame that we had to leave the UK HQ behind, but this was the only way."

"Of course, Mr. Zoicite."

Zoicite was still hoping that they could at least get close to Yemen, where they would be able to catch a small submersible vehicle that had been stashed away "somewhere" on the coast. Yemen had been slowly falling apart after a decades long insurgency had crippled most of the government, a 35 percent unemployment rate, sluggish economic growth in general, and a failing infrastructure. Strapped for cash, they willingly accepted a deal to evacuate Socotra of all 50,000 persons, and for a lump sum payment from the Nakanishi Group (200 million dollars), with half of the profits from the oil and gas extraction and production. The kicker was, there was no gas or oil. Their reserves were going to be gone in 2017 anyway, and despite having large natural gas reserves, it wouldn't really matter in the long run. The input cost would be too much for the government to handle. The end result was that for pennies, the Nakanishi Group had gained their own little playground, and Yemenis got the shaft (not that they knew it yet anyway).

Damn, he thought. I might need a stiff one to get me through this day. He went over to the minibar and looked inside. There was some whisky, but maybe he should go with some wine. Yeah, no reason to drink whisky in the land of wine.

He offered a glass of rosso to one of his bodyguards, out of courtesy, knowing that he wouldn't accept do to the nature of his work.

The bodyguard refused, politely nodding his thanks though.

"So, that's it," Jose finished. "We jump off in ten minutes. Ms. Lita, Raye, Serena, please follow me to car for your weaponry."

As the three of them walked outside the café, Serena noticed that the girls started to unpack their weaponry from varying instrument cases that had already been placed in the store.

"We have some MP7s and Beretta M12s, like the guys inside there," Jose noted sarcastically, popping open the trunk of the car. "I guess great minds think alike."

"Raye," Serena started to say, but she was already reaching for the MP7.

"Done."

"I guess I'll take the Beretta. What about you, Lita?"

"I'll take the Beretta as well." Lita replied. She also checked the Taser in the purse she was carrying.

"Hey, why are you still carrying that thing?!" Raye chastised. "Ditch the Taser, we're not doing non-lethal takedowns."

"That's enough, Raye." Serena grabbed another SMG for Lita. "You can keep the Taser, but I'm not quite sure how it's going to help in this situation."

Lita just sighed and took the SMG from Serena.

"Here's some tactical vests," Jose pulled some out of the backseat.

"Why don't the girls in there get any?" Serena asked Jose, putting on the vest.

"They don't need them," Jose calmly replied. "I've seen Henrietta get hit several times by gunfire, and she's been fine."

"We're not that invincible," Raye griped, putting on the vest and loading it up with magazines. She put the Glock 26 into a holster that was on the front of the vest, specifically meant to hold sidearms like hers. She put her coat back over the vest, disguising it so that no one would get suspicious until the last minute. The others did the same.

"Ready?" he asked.

"I guess so," Serena said back, looking at the

"Girls, time to get moving," Hilshire told the rest of the SWA cyborgs.

"Okay," Triela said, putting her massive shotgun back into her cello case. They all started to walk to the hotel, trying not to attract too much attention to themselves. The six of them entered what was a car entrance, with a guard shack that had no guards. Again, too early for any work, at least, for Italians.

Their nonchalant entrance was quickly ruined by someone looking out of the window.

"Shit," Zoicite said, looking out of the window and seeing several women start walking through the plaza. "You see that?"

"Got it," the bodyguard said, looking over his shoulder. "I'll get the car moving." He reached in his pocket and grabbed a small radio.

"Hey, Alpha team, get the convoy ready, we're moving out."

"Roger," came the response.

The part of the hotel that some of the guests stayed in (like Zoicite) was connected to the hotel proper, but it might have been its own separate entity. Check-in, breakfast, the bar, and other amenities were in a separate building, along with some rooms, but one of the more interesting buildings at the Hotel Risacoli was right across from that. It had shuttered wooden blinds, of all things, to keep the hot sun out during the summer months. The six SAILOR members and SWA cyborgs crossed the plaza slowly, trying not to make too much of scene.

"Did you hear that?" Henrietta said to Triela. Their modifications made it possible for them to pick up faint sounds some distance away.

"Hear what?" Triela answered distractedly.

"Somebody was talking about a car."

"Did we account for their transport?"

"I think so…" Angelica said slowly, not exactly remembering what had been said at the briefing.

"Hilshire," Triela said into her radio. "Do you guys have the garage covered?"

"Yes, we're moving there right now," he replied. He looked at Marco, who was standing next to him on the street corner.

"Shit, I knew we forgot something!" he hissed to Marco. "Where's the garage?"

The sound of gunfire echoed from inside the hotel.

"Too late!" Marco pulled out his Steyr GB from his shoulder holster, with Hilshire doing the same with his new-ish USP. You could take the man out of Germany, but you couldn't take away his German…ness. They charged inside the plaza, and had to dive for cover immediately.

"Get back you three!" Raye screamed at the girls, forgetting for a second that they were trained assassins. Several bodyguards opened fire from the third floor, their SMGs blazing away at the exposed targets on the ground.
"We'll cover!" Serena yelled back, firing off the entirety of her twenty round magazine from her Beretta M12 in a couple of seconds. She ejected the magazine and shoved a new one in, backing up toward the other end of the plaza.

"Got it!" Henrietta ran to a support pillar and popped open her Amati violin case. The gleaming P90 sat in there, ready to rock and roll. She whipped it out and snapped it to the firing position, depressing the trigger and sweeping the third floor from left the right. The amount of gunfire coming from that floor remained unchanged however.

"Cover, cover, cover!" Lita, Serena and Raye fell back to the other end of the plaza, their SMGs on full auto, firing at anything that moved or remotely moved. Angelica, Triela and Henrietta were laying down covering fire from the entrance to the lobby. The glass sliding door that led there was quickly shattered by a hail of bullets.

"Jose!" Henrietta yelled into her radio. "Things just got bad here!"

"We're trying to get to their cars and prevent their escape, but we're under fire!" Jose had come around the back way near San Gallo and found himself by a ramp leading down toward the garage. He had to back off however, due to a security section firing in his direction. He was not as nearly as skilled or invincible as Henrietta, and despite his military police training, getting into a several –versus-one shootout was not a good situation. He cursed his bad luck, and snapped off a couple of rounds after turning round a corner.

"Zoicite, with me," his bodyguard said. "Keep low."

"Thanks for that," he muttered. He figured that standing up in a massive gunfight was a really bad idea. He had a small P232 in a holster, but he wasn't much the fighting type.

Running down the stairs, he and a couple more bodyguards ran out the back of the hotel building and toward the garage. The garage itself was owned by the hotel, and it was located underground, accessible from two entrances; one by the highway, and one near Via San Gallo.

"They're getting away!" Serena yelled to the other girls. Everyone spotted the gaggle of people run from behind the hotel building and toward the ramp on the farther end of the hotel complex, and start to descend below.

"Get em!'" Lita fired off another burst, then the group of six girls charged forward in hot pursuit.

"They're in the cars!" Jose pointed his Beretta 92 at one of the SUVs, a Mercedes GLK. He fired several rounds to no effect. "All units, be advised, they are armored!" He saw the security detail pile into some saloon cars, and Zoicite into the SUV.

"Go, go, go!" Zoicite screamed at the driver. The driver put the car in gear and sped toward the entrance to the highway, only to be blocked off by the rest of the SAILOR team and the SWA cyborgs blazing away from the top of the ramp.

"We're going to have to take San Gallo!" the driver yelled at Zoicite.

"Just get us out of here!"

Zoicite's SUV powered forward, absorbing fire from Jose's weapon. Marco and Hilshire joined him, but it was useless. They dived out of the way and the convoy of the SUV and two cars zipped past, screeching down Via San Gallo.

"Jose!" Henrietta sprinted to her handler. The rest of the team was hot on her heels, adrenaline pumping after that intense firefight.

"I'm fine! Everyone, get into the cars!" Jose and Marco picked themselves up and immediately started running toward their cars parked on the side of the road, near the café.

"Are the Carabinieri blocking off the routes toward the highway?" Marco asked Jose as they leapt into the car. Thank god for keyless entry systems. Jose hit the "on" button and accelerated the car, barely leaving time for Henrietta, Angelica and Lita to jump into the back with them.

"Yeah!" was the delayed response. Jose swerved the Alfa Romeo 159, trying to dodge the bullets being fired from the other two Alfas, with the GLK in the lead. But it was kind of hard to maneuver in the tight Italian streets, and their car was riddled with bullets.

"You guys back there, get ready to engage." Jose flinched as a bullet snapped by. "Zoicite is the one in the SUV, that Mercedes GLK. Get those bastards!"

Hilshire was in another car, a Fiat Linea, along with Triela, Serena in the backseat and Raye up front. "Get ready to engage."

"Yes sir." Triela shoved several more slug shells into her shotgun, and rolled down the window. Serena did the same, but poor Raye couldn't shoot without getting in someone's way. Unless…

"Thanks for the idea, Serena." She did remember what had happened when the windshield went out on that Bugatti Veyron. Now that was a car…

"Sorry about this, er, Hilshire." She raised her MP7 and fired out the window.

"Damn!" Hilshire hissed, but they need to do what they needed to do in order to get these bastards. The windshield was easily shattered in a few short burst from the armor piercing 4.6mm rounds. Raye leaned back in her seat, and kicked the windshield out. Quickly sitting back up, she aimed her fire at the closest enemy Alfa, which was weaving in front of their own, friendly Alfa.

"This is confusing!" she spat, trying to get a bead on the car. The only reason she knew it was theirs is that Henrietta, Angelica and Marco kept popping out of the car to fire at the others.

"Come on!" Henrietta leaned out and fired a long burst from her P90. The bullets ripped through the Alfa on the right, and the driver lost control. He plowed right into a pizza parlor. Whoever was going to be opening shop today, was going to be in for a very nasty shock.

"Goddammit, we just lost one of the escorts!" the driver of the SUV screamed to Zoicite.

"Keep driving, keep driving! If we stop, we're dead!" Time to do some hands on work. He rolled down his own window and leaned out to fire his pistol. It was more of a gesture of defiance than a means to get the pursuing cars off of them.

"Sir, cut that shit out!" His bodyguard pulled him back from window, but not before a burst of fire rippled near where he had been poking his head out.

"That's Zoicite right there! Angelica, get him!" Marco yelled at his charge. He leaned back in to reload his weapon.

"I'm on it!" Angelica popped out the left side and fired her AUG at the SUV. But halfway through a long burst, the gun jammed.

"I'm jammed!" She leaned back in and frantically pulled the handle on the left side of the gun up and down, to no avail.

"Switch!" Lita yelled at her. Although Angelica couldn't really understand her, she got the message nonetheless. Angelica quickly moved over and Lita hopped over her small body, leaning out the window. The Beretta M12 would be little use against that armored SUV, but if she aimed for the tires…

The remaining Alfa weaved into her line of fire, and several more bodyguards fired out of it, their rounds snapping around her.

"Shit!" Lita ducked back in, and saw that Angelica was still having problems with her AUG.

"Here," she said to her, putting the M12 on her lap. "Give me it."

Angelica gave her the weapon, and Lita saw immediately what was the problem. A round had gotten jammed in the chamber, and the charging handle was stuck tight. Using her left arm, Lita pointed the gun outside of the window and racked the handle back as hard as she could, snapping the jammed round out of the chamber and set it flying. The next round was pushed up from the magazine, and Lita chambered the round by slapping the handle back down.

"Good to go!" She handed the rifle back to her, and scooted back over to the middle seat, while Angelica moved back into her original position.

"Jesus, so fucking useless," Marco muttered under his breath. He fired off some more rounds.

"Jose, pull back and let us deal with the SUV," Hilshire said on the radio, noting the difficulty that they were having in taking down the SUV. "I think Triela can put some slugs in there and get that vehicle to stop."

"Give us a second to deal with the other Alfa and we'll let you pass," Jose said over the radio. "Henrietta, Angelica, try to get that Alfa out of the way!"

Henrietta reloaded her weapon, snapping the 50 round magazine into place on top of the P90, and along with Angelica, concentrated their fire on the Alfa. The driver of the Alfa weaved back and forth, but the combination of eighty or so high powered rounds riddling the car proved to be too much. The driver lost control, and spun out into a wall, their car smoldering.

In the Piazza del Duomo, a BBC World News crew had just finished setting up for a shoot of the cathedrals located in that particular square. Aviano Air Base had denied entrance to the majority of news crews, and there had been nothing in particular for the BBC team to film. In order to make the trip not go to waste, they had been ordered to shoot some stock footage for the news countdown that played between broadcasts (a common joke was that the music that the countdown was set to was that it was out of an apocalyptic rave or something).

"Jesus, it's cold out here," the cameraman complained. It was kinda cold, but the beautiful view of the Basilica di Santa Maria del Fiore and of the Battistero di San Giovanni completely made up for it. They looked absolutely stunning in the rising sun's rays.

"Hey, we're near a church," the reporter chastised. "Watch your language."

Suddenly, in the distance, the two of them heard a massive crescendo of gunfire. That certainly got their attention, and not wanting to miss a good story, they sprang into action.

"Hey, hey, get the camera ready, and get that live feed up!" Their van nearby had all of that stuff, and the technicians inside quickly fired up the satellite dish for transmitting back to the BBC HQ. The reporter quickly dialed her mobile to her producer. The gunfire was getting closer, and the reporter sensed a good news story coming their way.

With the other Alfa out of the way, the SUV soldiered on, with shotgun slugs and SMG rounds flying past.

"Come on!" Zoicite hissed to himself. It was just him, the driver, and three other bodyguards now. They had to make it. Otherwise, he'd never see Kunzite again.

"We'll cut through the plaza and try to double back to the highway!" the driver yelled at him, doing her best to try to avoid the hail of gunfire from behind them.

"Just get us out of here," he commanded.

In the pursuit vehicles, Hilshire noticed that they were getting very close to the Duomo up ahead.

"There's the plaza up ahead!"

"What?" Serena asked. He had said it in Italian.

"The plaza, it's up ahead!" Hilshire repeated in English. "They might be able to get away!"

"We can't let that happen!" she replied.

Triela ducked back inside the car, her shotgun empty. "I'm not doing jack against the SUV!"

"In the glove compartment, there's some steel slugs! Those should do the trick!" Hilshire pointed toward the compartment. Raye, getting his point, opened it up. In there, a box of five steel slugs, just for this sort of situation. She took them out and handed them back to Triela.

"Keep them busy!" she yelled out.

"Got it!" Serena and Raye leaned out their respective windows and fired at will, keeping the bodyguards from firing back. The driver was really good, managing to make that SUV a hard enough target in the small Italian streets. Most of their rounds went wild, shattering storefronts, breaking car windows, and destroying merchandise.

"Almost at the plaza!" Hilshire yelled at Triela. He could see the Duomo rapidly approaching, and to his right, another cathedral by the name of Basilica di San Lorenzo. The driver would have made a right here, except for the fact there was a long line of stalls set up for the shopping season, and a couple of Carabinieri cars blocking off the entrance, finally getting the hint that there was something going on.

"I'm loaded!" She finished loading the last of the slugs into her shotgun, and leaned out the window. She waited patiently, waiting for the SUV to come back into her sights again. It weaved, once, twice...and on the third time that the driver tried to evade, Triela pulled the trigger on her M1897 shotgun, sending the slug down the smoothbore barrel. The slug zipped through the air and buried itself into the right rear tire, shredding it immediately and causing the driver to lose control.

"Hold on!" the driver yelled to the occupants, but it was too late. The SUV spun out of control as the entered the plaza, and about halfway to the Battistero di San Giovanni, it turned onto its side, the metal screeching against the cobblestones that covered the plaza.

"Did you get that?!" the reporter exclaimed to the cameraman. He was already on it, the camera following the SUV as it slid all away across the plaza and right next to the Battistero di San Giovanni.

"Zoicite?!" The bodyguard made sure that Zoicite was okay.

"I'm fine, I'm fine. Dammit." He was lying on his side, with his door facing the ground. The exit was just up there. Zocicite took a look at the driver; she was dead.

"Just a moment." The bodyguard shoved the door open and hopped out.

"Come on! They're getting close." Zoicite dragged himself out, along with the other two bodyguards who had crawled out the back door.

"Are you getting this?"

"Yes, I'm on it!" the cameraman was completely engrossed in watching the people crawl out of the SUV that he failed to see the other cars pull up. The reporter had to yell at him to move to get a better angle when someone started shouting to the people in the SUV.

"They're right there!" Jose pointed to the four people huddled against the turned over SUV. "Don't fire, take them alive if we can." Eight weapons trained downrange on the SUV as Hilshire grabbed a megaphone to get the bad guys to surrender.

"Zoicite!" Hilshire yelled out in English. "Come out with your hands above your head. It's time to end this bloodshed."

"Easy enough for you to say," Zoicite muttered underneath his breath. He noted that there was enough distance from the crashed SUV to the Duomo, and then they could possibly lose their pursuers in the narrow alleys of Florence. "Hey, while they're busy talking," he said to his bodyguard, "Let's move from here to the Duomo, and then give them the slip in those alleys over there."

"Sounds good. On three."

"Last chance Zoicite!" Hilshire yelled over the megaphone.

"Or not. Go!"

"They're running!" Triela yelled out. Everyone opened fired at the Zoicite and his bodyguards. A hail of bullets snapped through the air, headed straight for the cluster of people.

One bodyguard was cut in half by the slug shells that Triela was pumping out, slamming back the pump-action on her shotgun and firing off round after round into the bodyguard. The other two were brought down the combined gunfire of Angelica, Henrietta, Jose and Marco, a multitude of bullet calibers felling the man.

"There's Zoicite!" Angelica pointed out, ejecting the spent magazine from her weapon.

He had hesitated for a second after seeing all of his guards go down, but there was a slight lull in the firing, and he went for it.

Serena, Lita, and Raye had just finished reloading and trained their weapons on the Nakanishi COO. Their SMGs spat out death.

Zoicite felt several hot…things hit him. He felt no pain, but he staggered. More hot lead riddled his body, and now he felt the pain.

"Kunzite…" Now he would never see his lover again. Nice job, breaking it, Zoicite, he cursed to himself, as his lifeblood spilled out onto the ancient cobblestones.

"Are you getting this?!" the BBC reporter exclaimed to the cameraman. Goddamn, this was some time to be a news reporter!

"Yeah, yeah!" he shouted back. The gunfire had temporarily deafened him. "That was some awesome shit!"

"Focus on the assault team over there!" The cameraman swung the camera over to the SWA and the SAILOR team, who were now running up to inspect the damage.

"Hey!" A Carabinieri officer ran up to them and placed his hand over the camera lens. "Get out of here!"

"That went well," Marco groaned. Section One was going to have its work cut out for them.

"They are going to be so pissed off," Jose agreed, looking at the carnage near the Duomo. "We gotta make sure that the media don't catch any of those…er, SAILOR, people." He jerked his head toward the Carabinieri officer hassling the news crew.

"I'll tell them to do that." Hilshire walked off and started talking to several Section One people who had just pulled up in an Alfa Romeo.

"Angelica did pretty good, despite the circumstances," Jose commented. Marco took off his glasses and wiped them on his shirt, before putting them back on.

"Everyone, and I mean everyone, even those SAILOR members did significantly better than her though. Hell, I saw one of them help her load that massive AUG of hers."

"Why don't you give her a smaller one then?"

"It's not that it's a weight or size issue. It's that…she's gone to be gone soon. And there's not a goddamned thing I can do about it."

"Marco!" Angelica came running up to him, after inspecting the damage that they had inflicted on the SUV. "How did I do?"

"You did…good," Marco said, hesitatingly.

"Thanks!" Angelica would take any praise, no matter how faint from her handler. It was those dammed drugs…

"Jose!" Henrietta said to her handler.

"Very good job out there!" Jose praised her, no matter how great or small the feat was.

"Thank you so much!"

Over by the Section One Alfa that had just pulled up, Hilshire was telling the agents in the car what to do.

"What the fuck did you guys do here?!" one of the agents exclaimed in the car, noting the amount of damage. "I mean, we're going to have a bigger task force for this." He reached for his mobile and started dialing numbers.

"Well, get them then," Hilshire ordered.

"Thanks, asshole." The Section One Alfa rolled up its windows.

"What's their problem?" Hilshire turned around to see Triela standing there, her shotgun slung across her back.

"Section One had always given us flak for what we do," he said, scratching his head. "Beats me. Oh, and nice job out there," he added stiffly.

"Thanks," was the equally stiff reply from Triela.

"That looks downright creepy." Raye and the others were sitting near their bullet ridden pursuit cars, looking at the SWA girls interact with their handlers. She had pulled out some cigarettes and had started to smoke one.

"Raye, when did you start smoking?!" Serena asked, in disbelief.

"Give me a break," Raye groaned. She took another pull.

"No, really, we've been through a bajillon missions together and this is the first time you're smoking?!"

"Jesus, fine." Raye tossed the cigarette away.

"Watch your language," Lita joked. "We're near a church."

"Heh." Raye put the remaining pack of cigarettes back in her pocket and looked up at the sky.

"Nice day." The sun was fully up now, and it burned off some of the cloud cover, giving a serene atmosphere to the city.

Serena nodded her agreement. "Sure is."

On the news in Japan as the newscaster proclaimed the death of yet another Nakanishi company officer, Ms. Tsukino looked at the TV, after praying at the shine they had constructed for Serena. As the news program continued on, something caught her eye.

Was it…it looked like…no, it couldn't be.

For a split second, she swore she could have seen Serena. Alive? That wasn't possible. Her daughter had died six months ago in that terrible explosion.

There she was again! The camera didn't get a clear shot of her face, but she was walking with what seemed to be Lita and Raye, that shrine maiden from the Hikawa temple. But as before, they disappeared, the view obscured by an angry Carabinieri officer shouting at the BBC news crew.

No…it was just her mind playing tricks on her. It had done that several times in the last couple of months, and she had irritated several Americans with their daughters after coming up to them, asking if they were Serena. She didn't want to go see another illusion of her past.

Ms. Tsukino sighed loudly, and went to the kitchen to get dinner ready; her husband would be home soon. Terrorist attacks or not, they still had to make money to live on.