The thunder of gunpowder; a shootout in the middle of the capital's streets seems like a massive cliché in this day and age. Not Roman and Neo's first song and dance, anyways. Isaiah reveals the card up his sleeve

Chapter Eight - Thunder

The operations room drew into a shock as they watched an overhead image of what was happening. The thermal imaging of their eye in the sky captured the firefight in the street; a collection of humanoid white shapes moved about in two groups. The one on the top right, about eight individuals, moved about in a semi-organised line, slowly approaching while suppressing the group on the bottom left—six of them—with suppressive fire.

"Mobilising our QRT!" one of the operators yelled.

"No, wait!" Any other move was immediately halted, and all heads turned to the man in the middle of the room.

"Director?!" another raised her voice, desperate for an instruction or permission. Anything.

Instead, the middle-aged man flashed through the clipboard in his hand. He glanced towards the even older, lab coat-wearing gentleman to his left. "Well, doc?" he asked, a brow raised.

The other man scratched the back of his neck. Shrugging. Hiding his concerns. "We're on schedule…"

"You heard the doctor!" the man boomed. "All eyes on the master clock! We only interfere if our VIPs fail to neutralise OPFOR before 12:44."

That's six minutes. Those who weren't in the know, they who only followed orders, all had the same thought: this operation, whatever it was, is far from "standard issue".

(-S.o.T-)

This was one sloppy job.

The other guys, not them.

Service in the Royal Marine taught him a thing or two about ambushes, yet apparently even he was losing his touch, as this was the last thing he expected to happen. Roman would've given their attackers some credit for the attempted hit if he wasn't absolutely livid at the moment. Snarling, even.

"Fucking Woods!" cursed Roman, making himself as small as possible behind the SUV. The woman was a bitch, but he never expected her to stoop this low. Hitting them with kids in the crossfire? A hit during lunch hours? There were bystanders around! Un-fucking-believable! Fucking snake! She's fucking finished!

The SUV sufficed as cover, but with the amount of constant firepower being thrown at this general direction, that wouldn't last for long. He could dive into the alleyway, but then the bullets will be directed to Neo and the kids. Roman was stuck, as it were, but not by himself for long; Neo slid out of the alleyway, Hush in hand, taking position next to him.

"The one time I didn't bring Melodic Cudgel…" Roman growled, bobbing his head at Neo. "Did you bring a gun?" She shook her head, rather frustrated, in fact. Neo tucked her head in on reflex when a bullet whipped far too close to her face. "Woods, that snakewoman! I'll wring her neck!"

"Do get in line. Hei probably wants an ear or both after this…"

"Roman, here!" A pistol and two extra mags slid across the pavement and Roman moved to intercept. It was from Isaiah, the boy possessing a smaller, snub-nose revolver in his hand. How the twelve-year-old procured the pair without his or Neo's knowledge was a discussion for later.

"These are high-velocities… We're going to have a LONG talk about this later!" he yelled back, switching the safety off. A thought popped into mind, but can be pushed for later. "Keep your head down, boy! Protect the twins and Ion!"

The bystanders were mostly gone. That was good. Any civilian casualty would be a nightmare for their side. Roman hoped that any who were still stuck in this excuse of an assassination would be able to slip away unnoticed once he and Neo engage the gunmen. The woman unsheathed Hush's blade before turning to Roman.

"Got a plan?"

"We'll pincer. I'll dash across to the street, you take the left; round them from the sidewalk."

"Switch. You cover me from the pavement."

"Well, fine by me." Roman shrugged, pocketing the spare mags.

Constant fire approached them still. The gunshots decreased ever so when the assailants were halfway across the street. To reload. This was their window of opportunity. Roman nodded to Neo, the woman gave a little knowing smirk.

A dash and a sprint. Speeds like a blur. Neo held her open parasol forward like one would a shield as she charged in; Roman sidesteps on the pavement, managing to briefly suppress two of the attackers with controlled and well-placed shots. Neo held the blade like one would a javelin, shifting her weight onto one foot, hurling the blade towards her first target. Piercing through neck. The man must've focused all his aura around his torso—if at all—expecting an attack on his center mass. Not dead on the spot, but as he began falling back, rifle shooting up to the sky for a few seconds, they had one less assailant to worry about. The one that had been standing next to the dying man finished reloading and aimed Neo down her sights; giving Roman an opening from his side of the street to put a bullet where her skull and spine met.

Dead on the spot. Like the man before, she must've focused all her aura upfront.

"Edel!" one of them called out, it was either the name of the man or the woman.

Two down. That was a great first sync-up between Neo and him, and Roman would've admired that decent shot a bit more if not for the salvo of automatic fire forcing him to get back into the cover of another vehicle. Neo ripped her weapon out of the man's throat before moving on.

"Watch our left, damn it!"

With a trained sleight of hand, Roman loaded a fresh magazine into the gun in his left hand whilst still holding a cane in his right; the latter poised over his shoulder, he rushed forward out of cover, sliding over the car's bonnet. With adrenaline in full-force his body had forgotten about the limp in his leg. Roman predicted that they would see Neo as the priority threat, and he was right. His side, their right flank, only had one gun as overwatch. It was a kid, a teenage girl? She had been aiming to where Roman was, not is, and certainly not where he will be.

In fact, she seemed to be paralysed with fear if anything. Unsurprising considering two of her "co-workers" went down within a one or two second time window.

Poor kid…

Her barrel had finally made an attempt to track him before she squeezed the trigger but Roman quickly ducked with his sprint, and so her bullets only hit windows, cars, and the concrete of the street behind, as he got closer. Roman lowered his own firearm as he neared. Instead, he flipped the cane and held it by the tip; stepping once to the left; using his momentum as an extra force and cane as leverage, Roman hooked his cane on the girl's right leg and pulled. She fell face first, her limbs tried and failed to catch her from a graceless drop, and as a result, her rifle slid across concrete and away.

"Sorry about this, kid," Roman mumbled, sounding genuinely apologetic. He gave the back of her head a swift thwack, confident that it was enough to knock her out of the fight before moving on.

Three down. It was a peculiar situation, how the ambushers were caught off guard by those they were supposed to ambush. Roman and Neo evidently had wrestled the element of surprise from them. But surprisingly, Woods' men weren't as amateur as Roman had initially expected. They quickly regrouped, two groups back to back each facing Roman and Neo. Two to one was a walk in the park.

Unlike Neo who had some sort of shield to protect herself from incoming projectiles—he didn't even have Melodic Cudgel with him—Roman had to take a slower, more methodical approach in taking out their foe. Once again he rolled into a new cover, bullets surely striking the sedan's engine block and stopping. He couldn't stay there long, though, as behind his cover was a store filled with people, some even children, cowering, hiding away from this sorry excuse of an assault. The only thing which separated them from the gunmen's brazen fire was a glass pane that Roman doubt was designed to withstand a rock, let alone intermediate cartridges.

"Hey, stay down!" he shouted, pointing to the ground with a finger. Glass then shatters, and screams and cries reverberated. Bystanders would get hurt if he stayed there. Cursing under his breath, Roman ducked down briefly, pistol stretched under the sedan to cap one of the shooters in the ankle before swiftly springing up to his feet once more. Lucky timing, as the one with healthy ankles had to reload. "Watch the civvies, you fucking amateurs!"

Not his best battle cry, but he was rather pissed off. Still, quite blood-curdling.

Unlike these amateurs, Roman had the ability to count his shots drilled into him from back in the service. This specific firearm, the Spencer Semi-automatic Pistol, fired tungsten-tipped 5.7mm cartridges fed from 18-round magazines. Roman was in his second magazine, and now down to 11 bullets.

As he strode forward, Roman shot the wrist of the shooter who was still up, his rifle knocked away with a cry of pain. It didn't pierce through, but it was enough to hurt. Another two shots proceed, this time in the left kneecaps—there's no way to tell if those had pierced or not, but a cry turned to shriek of pain, and at the very least some bone was broken. Roman considered taking out the downed man with one or two shots in-between the eyes to finish the job but decided against it.

Neo, on the other hand, was much more thorough. She took care of her pair around the same time Roman did and had begun to walk over to him while cleaning the splashes of blood dotting Hush's blade with a handkerchief.

Those lot will survive.

Probably.

In the corner of his right eye, Roman noticed the one he had shot the ankle off crawling towards the rifle he dropped. Scoffing, Roman sauntered over to the last assailant and gave him a good kick in the head using his good foot. That was the last of them. Until he turned back to Neo, specifically behind her, eyes wide in horror.

"NEO, DOWN!"

She moved, but a little too late. One bullet managed to fire and strike her left thigh—a distinct crack sounded behind Roman as the projectile ricocheted off the ground. A cry. Roman raised his pistol and fired at the same time as Neo hurled Hush. Both pierced; a clank as metal hit concrete; a thud as dying man hit ground. Neo snarled before her legs finally buckled, the woman falling onto her behind while both hands supported.

"Neo!" Roman practically rushed over to kneel by her side. Sloppy, he could hear a mutter. A dark red had begun to ruin her denim jeans. Upon further inspection, Roman let out a sigh. "Missed the bone and went through. You should start healing it with aura."

Neo rolled her eyes at the obvious instruction. She grabbed Roman by the collar and gave his lips a quick peck. Two shots, a child's cry, and a thud. Roman and Neo snapped their necks toward the alley where the kids had been hunkering in and sprinted for it, the latter seemingly forgetting her wound.

Anger.

Unspeakable things will be done if even a scratch was present.

Someone will pay.

And yet someone had paid. It was the teenage girl from earlier, the one Roman thought he had properly knocked out; face up on the pavement as blood began to pool; all the while a dishevelled Isaiah stood a few steps from her, right hand supporting the revolver in his left. At this both adults sighed, Neo's pain returning as she leaned back on their ruined SUV and slid down. The twins dashed out of the alleyway, past Roman, crying, and Neo immediately opened her arms to hug the both of them—making sure to properly hold their heads into her shoulder in case the girls tried to look.

Roman slowly walked towards Isaiah. The boy still had his eyes fixed on the body before him. "Isaiah…" he placed a hand on the boy's shoulder. No response. His entire body seemed to be rising and lowering. "Isaiah." Once again, this time with an increased octave and a little shake.

It did the job.

"Huh?" He turned his head towards Roman, lowering the revolver in his hand and unhooking finger from the trigger.

"The gun, Isaiah," Roman whispered, placing his own hand over the firearm. He searched if Isaiah was still in the trance before. He wasn't. "Give me the gun."

"Oh. Uh… yeah, sure."

Roman saw some of the civilians beginning to peek their heads out of stores. "Is anybody hurt?" he shouted. Negative: both verbal and non-verbal, yet still he felt the need to check himself later. Right now though, Roman kept his watch on Isaiah as the boy's breathing slowly turned back to natural. "Are you okay?"

The boy nodded.

"Are you sure?"

Another, more erratic series of nods. "Yeah, yeah. She…" he trailed off, briefly looking over his shoulder, "she tried to wrangle me. I tased her, but she managed to knock it out of my hands." A chuckle? "I pulled out my gun and then… well…"

Truth be told, Roman wanted to slap him at the moment for the guns he had—high-velocity tungsten-tipped bullets was not something even huntsmen-in-training could easily obtain. Yet those did manage to save their skin.

Roman bent down to Isaiah's height. As before, he'll let it go for the moment, and placed a hand in-between the boy's ears "Good job keeping Ion and the twins safe. Well done, kid."

A smile not unlike Roman's one tugged on the boy's lips at the praise. Both of his ears perked up and Isaiah nodded. "I'll go check if anyone got hurt!"

"Good lad…" Roman sighed, sending the boy away with a pat on his head. Turning back, he saw Neo still in the same position comforting the twins. The bullet hole in her leg had begun to close. Then, out of the alleyway, a pair of pointy ears atop a mop of blue and black hair perked up at the sight of him.

"Loma!" the owner chirped, waddling over to Roman with a glance of curiosity.

"Hey, kiddo…" Instinctively, Roman hooked one hand under each arm and lifted the little boy up to his hip. "Are you okay?"

"Mhm." He nodded. Tail twitched, ears folded back, an eyebrow quirked, even tried looking around. Gracefully, from where they were, Ion couldn't possibly be able to witness the carnage left over. Roman sat down next to Neo, holding Ion in a way that made sure he couldn't even glance at the dead body on the pavement. The twins had stopped crying, yet still kept their faces buried into her. "Wha happeng? There was bang! And prang!"

The child's continued use of limited onomatopoeia caused a chuckle out of Roman and Neo. Smiling, Roman turned Ion's face to his. "Were you scared Ion?"

He blinked. "Scared…" Ion seemed to ponder at the word before his hand rubbed his chest and the other held one pointy ear. "Loud… Ion no like loud…"

Roman chuckled. "I see… I'm not a fan of it either, kid."

And so they sat there in a calm silence but for their breathing and the sirens in the distance.

12:43… Roman glanced at his wristwatch. Well, I guess we can get lunch at Hei's.


A/N: Well, well, well. If it isn't the bane of my existence: fight scenes.

Next chapter out on 13 August 2023.

Thank you for reading, and 'till next time!