Two days later
Monday evening
We met up with Ralphs's cunts again.
We met up with somebody else, too!
The masked cunts were smaller in number, this time. However, Fusion was also. With Shadow laid up, we were shorthanded; so it was just Jackal and me this evening. I didn't mind; Jackal was good company and we enjoyed winding each other up!
We were both on our Multistrada motorcycles this evening. The idea for the evening, was to try to track down where the cunts were coming from. We needed to find their headquarters and until we did, they would keep appearing – D'Amico seemed to have a seemingly endless supply of them.
Marty and Abby were working on the data that Todd had recovered, but so far, nothing concerning the headquarters, nor the 'boat' that seemed to be involved somehow, had been identified.
..._...
We had come across the cunts, purely by accident. They had been busy attacking property and vehicles, on the west side of Chicago. There were innocent civilians running around in a panic, trying to avoid the attacks. Jackal and I had pulled up and parked our motorcycles, then headed towards the trouble.
There were cheers from the civilians as we moved towards the cunts. I drew my Katanas, while Jackal drew his Ninja-To and we prepared to fight. The cunts were armed with melee weapons that evening; there seemed to be no firearms in evidence. Obviously, they had not expected to meet up with Fusion, but we gave them no choice, but to fight.
..._...
Soon after the fight had begun and I was wading through the cunts, I heard the distinctive sound of a high-powered motorcycle arriving at speed. I turned for a moment, to see a graphite black, Honda CBR1000RR Fireblade pull up beside our own motorcycles. The motorcycle itself was cool, despite being a Honda, but what intrigued me more was what was riding the motorcycle. The rider dismounted and headed towards the fight without a moment's hesitation.
The new arrival wore a suit that was form fitting, with armour and padding in essential locations. Overall, the suit was a blue-grey colour with light steel-blue highlights. The boots were conformal to the feet and were black to the ankle. The calves were blue-grey to the knees, where the kneepads were light steel-blue. The thighs had contoured armour in blue-grey, which connected to a utility belt that was worn around the waist and was white in colour. Supporting the utility belt was conformal armour for the chest and back, which came together under the arms.
The suit went up the neck to the jaw line. The shoulders were protected with pads, in light steel-blue. The lower arms had additional armour that ran from the padded elbow, down to the wrist. Compact black gauntlets protected the wearer's hands. The head was covered in a combined mask that hid all facial features and rendered the wearer un-recognizable. The mask was blue grey on the face, while the rest was a light steel blue. The eyes were oval and had tinted lenses. On the utility belt were holsters for a pair of Beretta Px4 Storm Compact pistols. There were also various pouches for additional equipment, including magazines. Mounted on the back armour were attachments for a pair of Tactical Katana Swords.
As the new arrival came towards the fight, she smoothly drew the twin Katana swords and moved towards me. It was obviously a 'she', as the armoured combat suit accentuated the hips, breasts and other curves of her body, very well. As she approached, she started hacking her way through the cunts – so she was obviously not on the cunts' side! Once she was closer, she called out to me, in a strange electronically enhanced voice, similar to that which Jackal and Kick-Ass used.
"Relax; we're on the same team – I'm Petra!"
"Hit Girl!" I replied.
"And he's Jackal – I know!" Petra called back, over the noise – with a nod towards Jackal.
Questions would have to wait for now; we had work to do. I would tolerate the interloper for now. With three of us fighting, things moved quickly and cunts fell left and right.
"Fusion, be advised we have a new vigilante on the scene, by the name of Petra!" I called over the comms as I fought.
"She has some nice curves, too!" Jackal commented.
"Focus, Jackal!" I cautioned.
The blood flew as we fought through the cunts.
It was proving to be a good work out, too. I missed being out with Shadow, but she needed time to heal and that could not be rushed. I concentrated on swinging my Ninja-To through the air and driving the cunts back and away from the civilians and their property.
I kept glancing over at the new arrival. She was of a similar height to Hit Girl, but with a bigger chest! The armour looked to be as good as our own – so she was somebody with access to money. Due to the combat suit covering the girl completely, I had no way to judge her age. However, she moved lithely and knew how to use the Katana swords that she wielded in each hand. The girl, or rather Petra, had no concern about killing, either and fought with the same gusto as Hit Girl.
It was not long before the fight was over and we were applauded by the watching civilians and some CPD Officers who had arrived on the scene. I was annoyed to see one dead and several injured civilians, but it could have been much worse, if we had not arrived to help.
..._...
The three of us stowed our blades and walked back to the parked motorcycles. When we got there, Hit Girl turned to face Petra.
"Who are you?" Hit Girl demanded.
"I am Petra."
"Why are you here?"
"I am a vigilante – just like Fusion."
"You may wear body armour and you may fight as a vigilante, but you are not like us!" Hit Girl responded. "I would suggest that you stay out of our way."
I was a little surprised at Hit Girl's attitude. I knew that Petra was an unknown and I was also, very aware of what Hit Girl thought about unknown intruders. Petra seemed to be the real thing, a real vigilante out to fight crime in Chicago. We were the major force in Chicago, but we did not have the monopoly on fighting crime.
I watched as Petra shrugged her shoulders and she nodded at me as she climbed back onto her motorcycle and started the engine. I waved and she pulled away. I actually laughed when I saw the licence plate: 'BITE ME'. So, Petra had a sense of humour!
"Problem, Hit Girl?" I queried.
"Maybe," Hit Girl replied, cryptically.
Four days later
Wednesday night
The 'Vigilante' skimmed across the waves at over twenty knots.
It was completely dark out and all that could be seen beyond the control station windows was the bright lights of the Chicago waterfront and skyscrapers; a beautiful sight it was, too. The 'Vigilante' had a large crew, on this trip. Besides myself, at the helm, I had Jackal seated to my left and behind his seat, stood Kick-Ass. Seated in the main salon were Mist, Trojan and Wildcat. Battle Guy and Hawk were watching over us from the Command Centre at Safehouse F.
Constant updates for weather were being sent by Battle Guy, direct to the large screens in front of me. We were travelling completely blacked out, in violation of international navigation rules. However, we were visible to radar, which should prevent a collision. We had left the Calumet River forty minutes previously and were heading on a course of zero-one-five degrees.
Fifteen minutes later, we slowed to five knots when we were eleven nautical miles, due east of Montrose Harbor. Just five nautical miles away, was the 'Nebuchadnezzar'. The one hundred-foot luxury yacht was moving at ten knots on a reciprocal course and would pass close aboard in approximately twenty minutes, if we both held our current courses. I hoped that we would look just like another innocent pleasure craft on their radar. As we closed I turned on our own navigation lights, so as not to look suspicious.
"Twenty minutes, people!" I called.
..._...
We had had a busy few days.
Marty and Abby had been able to identify the 'Nebuchadnezzar', as the boat where Ralph D'Amico had been hiding himself. They were also close to finding where, in Chicago, D'Amico had his headquarters. On top of the D'Amico problem, I also had to consider this new vigilante – Petra. We had not seen her since that other night. I had to admit she had helped us, but we had no idea how to contact her, so there was nothing I could do about it. I wanted to talk and find out more about her. I also had concerns about where she had got her armoured combat suit from – I would need to talk to The Armourer about who he sold combat suits to!
Eighteen minutes later
We could all easily see the approaching vessel.
She was lit up and we could see the green and red navigation lights, with a white light above. The 'Vigilante' and the 'Nebuchadnezzar' were now closing at a rate of fifteen knots. The International Rules of the Road dictated that both vessels turn to starboard (right) to avoid a collision. Except, a collision, well a minor tap, was just what I wanted!
Five rapid blasts from a horn were heard, from the 'Nebuchadnezzar' as her Captain indicated his displeasure at us passing so close. I sent back a single blast on the 'Vigilante's' horn, indicating that I would be turning to starboard – except I had absolutely no intention of altering course!
..._...
Suddenly the 'Nebuchadnezzar' turned sharply to starboard and continued her turn for a full one hundred degrees, before taking up a new course and increasing speed rapidly to thirty knots. I turned to port, in pursuit, and pushed both throttles forward and setup a pursuit course. Within minutes, we were zipping over the, thankfully smooth, waves at almost thirty-six knots.
"Jam their radios!"
"Consider them jammed!" Kick-Ass replied as he flipped a switch, connected to an illegal radio signal jammer, on a control panel. The 'Nebuchadnezzar' would now be unable to call for help by radio.
There was no way that the 'Nebuchadnezzar' could outrun us.
The pursuit was underway and we easily kept up with the 'Nebuchadnezzar'. Thirty minutes later, we had closed to eighty yards when somebody on the 'Nebuchadnezzar' opened fire on us. It was only sub-machine-gun fire and I decided that they were only trying to scare us away. We continued to close the yacht.
We also had our target confirmed!
I had seen him on the flying bridge of the yacht. The 'Vigilante' had a gyro-stabilised camera system that had allowed us to zoom in on the 'Nebuchadnezzar'. Ralph D'Amico himself, was confirmed as being aboard, so the attack was launched.
We came alongside the port quarter of the 'Nebuchadnezzar', matching her speed.
Kick-Ass was firing rounds from his Heckler & Koch 121 machine gun, at the armed men on the stern. Jackal was at the helm, holding us alongside the 'Nebuchadnezzar'. Mist and I jumped across once the stern was clear, landing on the boat platform and jumped up the port and starboard steps to the aft cockpit of the yacht. We ignored the dead bodies, as we made our entry into the main salon. We were rapidly joined by Wildcat and Trojan, each armed with a pistol in their hands.
With Kick-Ass, keeping watch, the four of us proceeded into the 'Nebuchadnezzar' through the curved glass doors. We came under fire almost immediately. Mist and I returned fire with our Heckler & Koch MP5KA4 sub-machine guns. Gunfire was coming from the forward end of the main salon. Wildcat kept watch on the curved stairs that led up to the flying bridge, while Trojan watched out over the aft deck.
The attack was coming from behind the bar. Our bullets destroyed a bulkhead-mounted television and sent it crashing down onto the shooters. Using the distraction, I ran forward and shot two men, who were behind the bar, dead. I then moved forward to the control station and pulled back on the throttles, stopping the 'Nebuchadnezzar' dead in the water. I turned and yelled out to Mist and Wildcat, as I saw feet appear on the curved stairs from the flying bridge.
..._...
Wildcat fired several rounds upwards and the feet vanished rapidly. Leaving Mist and Wildcat to guard the salon and after deck, Trojan and I went up towards the flying bridge.
"Kick-Ass! Clear the flying bridge!" I called.
"On the way!"
I heard a brief burst of gunfire from the 'Vigilante' and a scream from above.
"Hit Girl, you are clear!" Kick-Ass reported.
I crept up the steps slowly and peered over the top step onto the flying bridge. Apart from a dead body, spewing blood onto the teak decking a foot from me, all seemed clear. I stayed low and felt Trojan behind me, his left hand on my back. Apart from another two dead bodies, the flying bridge was clear.
"Trojan, stay here and watch the foredeck," I ordered.
Once Trojan had acknowledged, I headed back down below to the main salon. I then took Wildcat and we climbed over the dead men and went down the staircase to the lower deck, which was to starboard and beside the control station, forward of the bar. We had studied plans of the Italian built, yacht, so we knew our way around – kind of.
Aft of the lobby where we stood, was the main stateroom. To port, and to starboard were twin cabins and forward was the second stateroom. We searched the forward stateroom first; I went in while Wildcat kept watch in the lobby. The yacht seemed eerily quiet, now that the majority of the resistance had been eradicated and the engines had been set to idle. I found nothing and nobody, the port and starboard cabins were the same. That just left the main stateroom and I was certain that this would be where D'Amico would have slept. He was still aboard somewhere.
The stateroom door was shut, so while Wildcat covered me, I kicked the door in. I heard somebody moving and as I entered the stateroom, I was struck by the butt of an assault rifle. I fell to my left, onto the deck and tried to bring my MP5K around.
I saw Hit Girl fall to the side.
I raised my pistol and fired two rounds, before the slide locked back on the empty magazine.
Crap!
As I ejected the magazine and attempted to insert another, I felt myself kicked backwards. I dropped the pistol and the magazine. Rather than fumble for them, I seized my panther claws and within seconds had them ready for use and as I sensed somebody close to me, I swung my right hand out and heard a man yell out in pain.
I jumped to my feet and found myself face to face with Ralph D'Amico!