Author's Note: This is where we rejoin Forsaken after the end of my other story: Vigilante Fallout. Eight and a half months have passed since Chapter 393 of Forsaken and around one month has passed since the final events of Vigilante Fallout.
Friday, October 27th, 2017
Chicago, Illinois
United States of America
18:47
East 63rd Street
Chicago Southside
The District Three Ford Explorer was stopped at the side of the road, blue lights flashing.
What should have been a typical traffic stop for a minor offence had cost a Chicago Police Department officer his life and a second was bleeding out at the roadside. Ambulance 70 was on the scene in just two minutes and the crew were fighting for the second officer's life. As for the shooters, they were speeding east on East 63rd Street in a blue 2012 Chevrolet Suburban certain of escape. The nearest District Three unit was several minutes away and there was zero air support available as it was a busy night across the city. But they had not allowed for the city's alternative law enforcement.
A graphite black Honda CBR1000RR Fireblade raced past the incident, its armour-clad rider relying on oversight from the command bunker to ignore traffic signals and avoid a major traffic accident. One of the paramedics caught sight of the vigilante, subconsciously wishing them every success in taking down the cowardly bastards who had short the two police officers. Despite having never laid eyes on the shooters or their vehicle, Petra knew to proceed over South Stony Island Avenue and into Jackson Park.
Her quarry was even then taking a left onto US41.
..._...
There's a road I'd like to tell you about, lives in my hometown.
Lake Shore Drive the road is called and it'll take you up or down.
From rags on up to riches, fifteen minutes you can fly.
Pretty blue lights along the way help you right on by.
And the blue lights shining with a heavenly grace, help you right on by.
..._...
The only way to keep control of weeds which pervaded your back yard was to go to war on them.
In the very same way, you had to take out the trash regularly or you could be buried under the stuff as it rose up out of control. Indeed, leaving the city with limited vigilante oversight for several months had allowed those weeds and the associated trash to promulgate throughout the city. Eighteen separate groups had appeared over those months and they had spread across some significant areas of the city, but predominantly the lesser areas.
In some parts, the stability of entire neighbourhoods had shattered into all out gang war and the Chicago Police Department were being pushed back and no-go areas had developed along with the rise of shootings and muggings.
..._...
And there ain't no road just like it, anywhere I've found.
Running south on Lake Shore Drive heading into town.
And just slipping on by on LSD, Friday night trouble bound.
..._...
Naturally, they needed to make a big impression on the city, and to remind everyone that Fusion was back and that Hit Girl and Kick-Ass were also back.
Previously, they had simply ridden through the city en masse but Hit Girl wanted something more hard hitting and therefore Fusion had deployed as five hunter-killer groups and two support groups, targeting the dealers and suppliers in partnership with the Chicago Police Department. Hit Girl would be merciful, at first, and she would give the city in general an announcement that she was back; just one chance. From then on, no punches would be pulled and nobody would be given so much as a warning before hell would rain down upon them once battle was joined.
To add some spice, it would also be the very first time that Fusion had made use of air support, armed air support, in their home city.
..._...
And it starts up north in Hollywood, water on the driving side.
Concrete mountains rearing up throwing shadows just about five.
Sometimes you can smell the green if your mind is feeling fine.
There ain't no finer place to be than running Lake Shore Drive.
And there's no peace of mind or place you'll see, like riding on Lake Shore Drive.
..._...
Rampart sat in the left-hand seat of the McDonnell Douglas MD530F helicopter.
She flicked switches and then engaged the starter for the single Rolls-Royce Model M250-C30HU turbine engine which increased in revolutions until it had the power to rotate the main and tail rotors. Both rotors began to spin counter-clockwise, increasing speed, the five-bladed main rotor gathering speed, the torque of which was countered by the two-bladed tail rotor. After a check of her instruments and a glance to left and right, she prepared to launch. Her mind was conscious that she was carrying an arsenal on the weapons wing mounted in place of the rear seats: twin seven-round rocket pods and twin Gatling guns. With gentle inputs on the controls, she lifted off the ground and checked that the helicopter was fully operable as she twisted and turned before she rose upwards and then dipped the nose to gather speed. She then pressed the button for one of the three encrypted radios carried aboard the helicopter.
"This is Rampart. Ursula is airborne. Rampart out."
And the night truly began.
..._...
And there ain't no road just like it anywhere I've found.
Running south on Lake Shore Drive heading into town.
And just slipping on by on LSD, Friday night trouble bound.
..._...
Neither occupant noticed the motorcycle closing fast as they cruised up the highway keeping to the centre of the three lanes and touching sixty miles-per-hour.
However, at South Cornell Drive, they did notice a black and crimson Yamaha Super Ténéré joining the LSD which had the pair of cunts worrying for their safety as they recognised the armour-clad Red Raven and the driver stomped on the gas. But that did not get them very far as a trio of motorcycles jumped the LSD at the model yacht basin.
"That's Stormtide with her Kitties!" one declared.
Stormtide, in her distinctive basalt grey tiger-striped armour was astride her KTM 690 Duke R and she was, indeed, joined by her siblings: Tigercat and Hellcat.
..._...
And there ain't no road just like it anywhere I've found.
Running south on Lake Shore Drive heading into town.
And just slipping on by on LSD, Friday night trouble bound.
..._...
At Kenwood, Fred Rees (the driver), cut up several cars as he took the left lane which would him and Alvin Norman (the passenger) off the LSD.
They took a hard left only to find the crossing ahead blocked, preventing them from passing under the railroad. The hulking form of TITAN made up the blockage with the additional bulk of Kick-Ass who stood with the lesser form of Rage and two armour-clad mutts. Rees jerked the wheel over to the right, sending the Suburban into a small parking lot. He swerved twice to avoid a dozen parked vehicles before they reached the opposite end a few seconds later and Rees stomped on the brakes. Rees and Norman bailed out. The pair abandoned their vehicle and raced towards a pedestrian path over to their left. As they ran, Norman noticed that nobody was following them which was strange.
But then came the reason – actually two reasons - as they noticed movements in the shadows and then each man caught sight of an armoured beast as it passed under a light pole. They bolted but then stopped dead as they caught sight of a dark silhouette against the lighter parts of the night sky. That silhouette grew in size as it descended towards them before the brightest light they had ever seen snapped on. That light was a Nightsun searchlight mounted to the underside of URSULA. The two men were perfectly captured and Rampart was not about to let them out of her sight as she steadied the light helicopter into a hover thirty yards from the men but high enough to clear the nearby trees.
That left the men in a difficult position with an armed helicopter which would not lose them – they had both watched police chases on TV – blocking their way and behind them two armour-clad attack dogs.
..._...
It's Friday night and you're looking clean, too early to start the rounds.
A ten minute drive from the Gold Coast back, make sure you're pleasure bound.
Then it's four o'clock in the morning and all the people have gone away.
Just you and your mind and Lake Shore Drive, and tomorrow is another day.
And the sunshine's fine in the morning time, tomorrow is another day.
..._...
Eisenhower raced in with Blade to her right and a few feet behind.
The two German Shepherd dogs were focussed on their targets, watching for either man moving, ready to change their course to intercept. Neither animal made a sound as they closed, making their advance all the more threatening to their quarries. In this case, the two men were borderline crapping themselves as they considered their options and the events which had brought them to their current situation. They both knew that they were being chased for one reason – they had shot those police officers in cold blood. They also knew that with Fusion on their tail, they were good as dead. There was just one option remaining and both men raised their hands just in time for Eisenhower to arrive, the dog snarling and growling, along with Blade.
But the men missed the snarling and growling, instead they simply saw white teeth; two sets of them, bared and lethal.
..._...
And there ain't no road just like it anywhere I've found.
Running south on Lake Shore Drive heading into town.
And just snaking on by on LSD, Friday night trouble bound.
Around that same time...
East 14th Street
The four men were loitering below the 'L' train track as they awaited their next customer and they were deep in conversation.
"I think she's retired."
"Retired!"
"She wears a mask; she could be forty."
"With those curves, Marv?"
Marv shrugged. "Maybe she's left the country – you seen the reports."
"Over in Europe?"
"Yeah."
"You think that was her?"
"Why not?"
"She does have a habit of causing shit, don't she."
Marv looked around for a moment as he thought he heard a growl but seeing nothing he went back to the conversation.
"Well, she's gone and that makes our lives so much simpler."
"Maybe someone's done her in."
"Her time is past and we can do what the fuck we wanna."
"Is that so?"
The four men froze and leapt to their feet, their eyes scanning the darkness for trouble. The voice had sent chills down the lengths of their backbones. It could only have been one person and it was not the person they wanted to see . . . ever . . . period! Then Marv looked up and he had never felt so much fear as that which was instilled by the purple eyes which bored into his very soul. To make things so much worse, the purple eyes were not alone. Three more pairs hung in the darkness – one pair a vivid blue, the next a luminous yellow, and finally, a pair of deep red eyes. Marv tried to move his legs, his arms. He tried to yell out a warning, but he could not move no matter how much he willed his muscles. The same story pretty much applied to his colleagues who were just following Marv's eyes when four objects dropped down all around them.
"Hi, I'm Psyche – this is Hit Girl."
"I'm Fury – and Hit Girl ain't retired yet; not by a long shot!"
"I will admit, she does have nice curves..."
"Thank you, Splinter," Hit Girl growled as she studied the four pathetic examples of men arrayed before her. "Tonight, I am being nice. I think you need to go home and rethink your life."
"Ye . . . yes," squeaked Marv.
"You can leave the bags," Psyche advised the other three men as they began to run, grabbing up their kit.
"What have we got?" Fury commented as she opened up the first of five holdalls. "Fuckin' drugs! Shit load of packets – bastards! Oooo, what do we have here?"
Splinter, who was busy digging through another holdall which held cash and weapons, looked up. The thirteen-year-old boy grinned as Fury held up that month's copy of Hustler.
"You'll like that one, it has Morgan Lee in it on page thirty-eight..., oops!"
Splinter turned towards Psyche and he read her body language before taking several large paces away from the pissed off eleven-year-old.
"You fucking what?" Psyche growled. "Choose your words carefully."
"I, er..."
"Morgan Lee has bigger tits than you, face it," Fury offered.
"Not helping," Psyche responded before she glared at Splinter. "We – will – talk."
"Looking forward to it," Splinter muttered.
"Let's hand over this shit to the CPD and move along, shall we?" Hit Girl chuckled. "Time to go break some heads."
Fury stuffed the magazine into her utility belt and the four vigilantes vanished into the night.
Roosevelt Park
Petra was pleased to see that her quarry had been seized and were even then entering into CPD custody.
That meant she was no longer required, so she had formed up with Red Raven and the pair had tailed Stormtide and her siblings up the LSD and off at West Roosevelt Road and headed East. Stormtide waved as the two groups passed Hit Girl, Psyche, Splinter, and Fury who were heading towards Millennium Park. Something told the girl that Psyche appeared to be in a bad mood as she blazed past on her brand new Ducati Monster 821 Dark with just a small raise of her left hand while Hit Girl simply shrugged as she raised her right hand. Splinter and Fury appeared to be arguing over something. Stormtide decided that life was too short for any trouble that involved Psyche and Fury, so she simply focussed on the task ahead.
Petra and Red Raven headed towards the north end of the residential area while Stormtide took her team to the south and dismounted from their machines, leaving them parked at the curb. It was a first for the three of them to be out together as a team with her in command – just as her father had predicted. They were a tight team and when out on the streets, Hellcat and Tigercat followed instructions to the letter. All of them had suffered in the previous months and her brother was still feeling pain from a shrapnel wound in his chest but the boy had insisted he was well enough to fight. The three of them descended to the park area which was a good twelve feet below the level of West Roosevelt Road. It was a quiet residential neighbourhood and no fierce opposition as expected, so they would simply circle the neighbourhood and ensure nobody was...
"Cunts at eleven-o'clock," Hellcat said quietly. "Fucking about with a Toyota."
Indeed, two youths were paying close attention to a Toyota Landcruiser, more specifically, the locking mechanism on the driver's door.
"All yours, Hellcat," Stormtide directed as she and Tigercat took cover behind a panel van, keeping out of sight.
Her armoured suit was primarily yellow while her knee-length boots, gauntlets, and utility belt were a matte black. Her mask was in the form of a cowl, with cat-like ears on each side. The front of the mask covered all but the mouth and jaw. The mask was black, with yellow highlights and was surrounded by copious amounts of red hair. The thirteen-year-old girl was a veteran vigilante and she did not shirk away when faced by two youths twice her size. Those two youths seemed very busy and she had closed to just ten yards when a voice called out – it was a third youth.
"We got a kitty!"
Three sets of eyes focussed on Hellcat as she continued to advance, a nasty grin on her lips. To the youths, Hellcat was tall but very slim, showing little in the way of muscle. They were also new in Chicago, relatively, so their knowledge of Fusion was based on rumour and innuendo. They were wary but less so than if they were facing an adult vigilante. None of them had learnt yet that the younger members of Fusion were never alone for long and always had additional support very close which usually meant an older vigilante or a full adult. The females were less muscular but generally faster and more dangerous because of their mobility. The male vigilantes carried heavier armour and the senior members of Fusion were reported as being invincible, especially Kick-Ass and Jackal with their tanklike upper body armour. The armour clad individual moving towards them did not set off warnings in their minds – come on; it was three on one!
'How original!' Hellcat thought as three knives materialised.
"Mine are sharper," she growled as she deployed triple-blade claws from each gauntlet.
"Let's show the kitty some manners," one youth intoned.
"Nobody teaches me manners."
With that, Hellcat leapt into the air and flew at the cunts.
Logan Square
It was dark – it was night-time after all.
Of the various criminal gangs which had grown to dominance over the preceding six months, the so-called 'Milwaukee Crew' had been around for a number of years, with certain members dating back to the time of Frank D'Amico. The growth of Fusion in the city had seen a steady decline in the Milwaukee Crew membership but that membership had grown again in response to Ralph D'Amico's return to Chicago. Then had come sponsorship from the likes of FEAR to act on her behalf – that sponsorship had seen man of their members killed by sharp bladed objects held by a Fusion vigilante. As for the leadership of the criminal gang, that had fluctuated and the current leader of the 'crew' was one Angela Wall. That had gone against the grain somewhat, with some challenging a female leader but one mention of the likes of Hit Girl and FEAR had soon put that challenge to bed. Outwardly, she was untouchable in that nothing could ever be proved against the woman herself, despite links to drugs, prostitution, and gun running, all of which were deeply tenuous at best. Fusion, of course, did not need evidence to a level good enough to satisfy a jury of peers; they only needed enough to know that somebody was dirtier than hell.
Two teams were moving into position: Hotel Kilo Three and Hotel Kilo Four.
..._...
Hotel Kilo Three was headed by Jackal and he had the intrepid Wildcat with her long-suffering partner Trojan in support.
They were not alone as they rode in the GMC Yukon Denali known as HOUND. In the back were Sampson and Loki, both eager to do their part. The black vehicle came quietly to a halt with lights extinguished. Wildcat and Trojan climbed out as Jackal hit the button to open the rear door allowing the canine contingent to leap out and prepare themselves for action. Indeed, as Jackal secured HOUND, Sampson began to growl menacingly closely followed by Loki – something was afoot. Loki sniffed the air around them and then moved off in an easterly direction. Both animals were highly trained and they could sniff out drugs and certain other substances. Nobody was visible but the main roads were busy and people could be heard in the surrounding residential areas.
Thirteen-year-old Trojan was feeling wary and he drew his twin Glock 19 Gen4 Compact pistols, his eyes scanning for trouble as he followed Loki and Sampson into the night. Thirteen-year-old Wildcat had moved a short distance over to the right, where she too had drawn her twin SIG Sauer P250 Compact pistols, anticipating trouble as they moved into the residential area to the south of North Milwaukee Avenue. Intelligence had directed Fusion there due to some drug dealing which the CPD could not get a proper handle on nor stop. To the young teen, it was a strategic nightmare. Parked cars. Lines of trash bins. Garden fences. Fire escapes. Power poles. Several overhead lights were out – broken or damaged, Wildcat could not tell but she sensed trouble in the darkness. Ahead of her, Trojan was covering the left quarter with Sampson a few yards ahead of him. Loki had dropped back and held position ahead of Wildcat. Both animals were unhappy about something and that had everyone on tenterhooks.
As Wildcat sidestepped a pothole filled with muddy water, Loki began to growl again and she looked up at Wildcat.
"Seek!" Wildcat ordered and Loki bolted off into the darkness.
"Seek!" Trojan ordered Sampson who obediently ran after his sibling.
Trojan and Wildcat moved forwards, their pistols raised as they searched for any sign of danger.
..._...
Loki's incredible sense of smell had detected an illegal substance.
She sniffed and ran forwards a few yards before she stopped and sniffed again. Then she bolted for a patch of weeds and a messy line of trash bins. She stopped and looked back at Wildcat as she pawed at the second trash bin. Wildcat moved in with Trojan covering his partner. Jackal kept their rear safe as he watched. Wildcat approached the blue bin and noticed a discrete '2' painted on a vertical corner in white paint. Totally innocuous and it probably meant something to somebody. However, Loki had something against the plastic object. Wildcat holstered her pistols and she raised a hand to flip open the lid of the bin – she never made it.
Apparently, the bin was being watched as all hell broke loose. Bullets thudded into the ground all around Wildcat who dived to the ground a few yards from Trojan who was doing the same. The gunfire was coming from the right, beyond a power pole and behind cover. The two animals had instantly taken cover, laying flat on the opposite side of the alleyway to the suspect trash bin. Wildcat rolled away from said trash bin and into cover beside the dogs where she was joined by Trojan.
"That cunt has us pinned down," Trojan pointed out, rather unnecessarily.
"No shit, Sherlock!" Wildcat growled. "I'm gonna go over and down."
"No risks," Trojan cautioned.
Wildcat nodded as she jumped to her feet and scrambled up a fence panel partially covered in ivy and then she leapt for the top of a wooden balustrade six feet above her, grasping the edge with her gauntlets. Heaving on her muscles, she realised that she might have put on a little weight, and then swung her right leg over the balustrade allowing her to roll onto the garage-top patio. She dodged around discarded toys and patio furniture before leaping across a five-foot gap between the properties. She came up from her roll on the next patio and ran over to the far edge and she carefully peered down at the gunmen. She reacted instantly as she ran along the balustrade and then leapt onto a power pole before descending and deploying her claws. The gunman felt very little as his throat was ripped out along with a section of his backbone. His body slumped to the ground in a pool of blood and his MAC-10 submachine gun clattered to the ground beside his dying body. His last sight was of Wildcat as she gazed upon his soon to be corpse.
Trojan and the dogs were up instantly and moving to cover Wildcat. Jackal, though, was engaging the enemy who were coming down the alleyway – four men with automatic weapons. The bullets pinged off his body armour as he returned fire with his twin FN Five-seveN Mk2 pistols, dropping two within seconds. Opposite where Wildcat had killed, a parking lot occupied the space between the alleyway and the main street a hundred yards distant. Men were running in her direction. Sampson and Loki leapt over a four-foot steel wire fence and attacked the incoming men even as Hotel Kilo Four arrived aboard the Gurkha RPV known as CRITTER from the far street behind the attacking men. The monster vehicle struck one man, sending him flying before sliding to a halt on the loose gravel.
"Fucking women drivers!" Jackal growled as Shadow leapt from the driver's seat.
Shadow was joined by Nightmare and Fortune. Together, they attacked, blindsiding the men in the parking lot who suddenly found themselves being attacked from the rear as well as the right flank. Two men went down hard. The first by Sampson who as a male had two inches of height on his sister as well as about twenty pounds. His target felt like a car had just crashed into him and wished it had been a car as said car would not have built-in white gnashing teeth nor a blood-curdling growl. Loki, while slightly smaller, still gave her quarry something to worry about as she quite literally went for the jugular.
The canine distraction and the arrival of support meant that Wildcat and Trojan were able to join the fight in the alleyway where they found Jackal kicking ass and taking names.
Millennium Park
Compared to the CPD, Fusion were a menace to the crime-abiding citizens of Chicago.
The Chicago Police Department generally arrived by road, usually announcing their arrival with sirens and blue flashing lights. Principally, they were predictable – to a point. As for Fusion, they were decidedly unpredictable to the average criminal Joe. For the CPD, their world was primarily two-dimensional, but for Fusion, they could appear out of nowhere from any point in space, including from above and below. They also rarely advertised themselves and certain female members enjoyed arriving by stealth and scaring the living daylights out of the criminal fraternity. Some saw it as stressful having to monitor each and every direction – not that anybody who mattered actually gave a shit.
Below US41 at Lower East Randolph Street, Hotel Kilo One had pulled up and parked their motorcycles beneath the flyover. Hit Girl opened her mouth to suggest that Psyche join her but then gave up and waved for Splinter as the bickering began . . . again.
"You cut me up back there," Psyche growled.
"Did not – you sped up when I was changing lane," Fury retorted.
"You just can't fucking ride!"
"Can! You..."
"Oh for the love of God!" Hit Girl growled as she swiftly put some distance between herself and the Dubious Duo.
"They can't help it," Splinter grinned. "It's part of their make up."
"Yeah," Hit Girl growled.
Hit Girl strolled across the road towards the northbound flyover and underneath the northern end. Three cars were parked up in the semi-darkness and at first Splinter thought that they were alone but then there was a sound from the darkest section of the carpark and a scrawny looking man appeared from the gloom.
"Your purpleness," he fawned.
"Worm."
"Long time no see."
"Been busy."
"The city has gone downhill since you left."
"So I see."
"Your biggest issue is with the Milwaukee Crew – they're the most visible on the streets, you see. They're taking over or destroying their competition in whatever way works – they killin' without hesitation. They are pure evil. Beggin' your pardon, your purpleness. Then we have West Englewood – the two gangs: South Side Stones and Cortez Street Gang which used to fight against each other are now engaged in a tepid cold war since your people put down Zechariah Porter."
"We're going to keep an eye on them and ensure they don't reengage," Hit Girl commented."
"The Southside Disciples still exist but they are struggling without a ready leader. Several potential leaders have surfaced but so far no single person has managed to reunite the group to the point where they can become a threat," Worm said before he hesitated. "I cannot guarantee this next bit of intel but it is, I believe, reliable..."
"Spit it out, Worm," Hit Girl growled. "How bad can it be?"
"She appeared about seven weeks ago but only for two nights, then she was gone again. My contacts say she's reappeared four more times. I believe she is checking out the city and preparing for her return; finding allies."
Hit Girl scowled and Splinter saw her gauntlets flex.
"You telling me Sunset fucking Phoenix is back?" Hit Girl seethed as she remembered the last time they had met in Gotham.
"Yes."
"Thank you for remaining my ally, Worm," Hit Girl said as she handed the scruffy man a roll of untraceable cash.
"You think I wanna become your enemy?"
"Point taken."
Like he was never there, Worm vanished into the darkness with his cash.
..._...
Hit Girl sighed with relief as she returned to the motorcycles to find that the Dubious Duo had finished their latest round of bickering.
"Success?" Psyche asked.
"Maybe."
"Cryptic."
"Sunset..."
"Sunset fucking Phoenix!" Psyche blurted out. "Back? In Chicago?"
"Yeah, seems so," Splinter acknowledged.
"She almost killed us," Psyche seethed. "She..."
"No time for a diatribe," Fury said as a she clamped a gauntleted hand over Psyche's mouth.
"Thank you, Fury. You might just have saved her life," Hit Girl growled dismissively. "Mount up!"
Fury released the furious Psyche and all four remounted their machines. They moved off with Hit Girl in the lead and headed down Lower East Randolph Street, passing beneath the upper level, their exhausts resonating in the concrete thoroughfare as they went.
"My queen, you got your ears on?"
"Yes, Battle Guy, I do," Hit Girl laughed.
"Goose Island – something brewing. Hal's sent directions to your screens."
"Any clue?"
"No accessible CCTV in the area and what was there has gone down. Hal suggested that you'd enjoy going in blind."
"I apologised – never mind."
Hit Girl concentrated on the heads-up-display built into her visor where a flashing yellow dot superimposed upon a road map of Chicago and an arrow indicating the direction to ride. The same image simultaneously appeared in the visor of each member of the team and they swiftly turned north, increasing speed.
Psyche's mind was full of random images associated with that bitch from Gotham and what she had tried to do. Naturally, the woman had a virtual boner for Psyche, thanks to that episode in the shower, so many years earlier. That woman had to put down. Amongst other things she was insane. Yes, that was rich coming from a not-so-sane eleven-year-old assassin but there were levels to insanity and Psyche believed that Sunset Phoenix was right up there, just past Fury, of course – that girl was certifiable!
Ten minutes later, the four riders raced across the temporary Bailey bridge installed on the east side of Goose Island and almost immediately, Hit Girl stomped on her back brake, pulling her Ducati to a rapid halt in the centre of the road. She did not like what she saw. There were no civilians in sight – in fact; they had not seen another vehicle on the streets in the past mile. It was close to nine at night but the streets were usually much busier. Then, before her thoughts could be turned into warnings and action, there was a deafening explosion from just behind them and all four were knocked off their motorcycles as the blast wave passed over them. A saving grace was their crash helmets which had protected their heads and ears from the pounding forces of the shockwave. Nonetheless, Psyche found that she could not move, then realised that her legs were pinned beneath her motorcycle which had fallen over atop her. Fury was free of restriction and she struggled to her feet, her H&K P30SK drawn as she turned a full three-sixty to search for danger before she pulled off her helmet and dropped it onto the blacktop beside her Honda. Her eyes noticed that the Bailey bridge just eighty yards distant had vanished into the Chicago River, destroyed by the blast. Smoke billowed up and began to obscure the immediate area.
"Mother fucker!" Splinter growled as he kicked himself away from his own Honda motorcycle and drew his Walther P99C pistol as he moved to release Psyche's legs from beneath her Ducati.
Fury moved to check on Hit Girl who was furious as she removed her helmet and rose to her feet. Hit Girl took in the scene, including the destroyed bridge, and four members of her team all seemingly intact. Her mind was racing. Was the explosion an attempt to kill them? Were they being corralled into a trap? An ambush? It was the usual: more questions than answers. But then Hit Girl felt a surge of anger so fierce that she struggled to form thoughts as her eyes processed what was emerging from the swirling smoke.
The bitch was clad from neck to ankle in a figure hugging combat suit which was black with the boots and the backs of the gauntlets highlighted in purple pizzazz. Additional armour protected the joints and the chest while the bitch's hands were encased in slim gauntlets and her feet in lightweight, knee-length high-heeled boots. Above the neck, the head was encased in a mask that covered all but her mouth and lower jaw. The mask was the same purple pizzazz while the long wig that extended more than half way down her back was primarily a venetian red with lemon yellow highlights. On either thigh, she carried an eighteen-inch Tanto, each with a twelve-inch blade. Mounted over each Tanto was a holster for a SIG Sauer SP2022 pistol in nine-millimetre calibre. On her back she carried a double-bladed ninja sword staff.
It was her!
The bitch was grinning!
And Sunset Phoenix was not alone...
The Battle Bunker
Training Centre Echo
Deep beneath Chicago's Brighton Park, the concrete edifice which was the Fusion command centre occupied two floors of the most secure facility in the city.
Battle Guy was sat at his desk, his eyes darting from giant screen to giant screen as his hands flew across a keyboard and manipulated a mouse at frightening speed. Beside him, Hal was doing the same, aghast at what was unfolding across the city in seemingly isolated incidents but which now showed signs of coordination. Hal adjusted the high-definition image coming from a camera mounted on Hit-Girl's Ducati and turned it ninety-degrees.
"That is not good," announced Surgeon who stood behind Hal.
"I thought she was dead?" Hawk commented before she began to issue orders. "Send in Ursula and Hotel Kilo Five for support. I'm taking Iron Hide – Surgeon, Astute; with me. I want Piranha, Tao Tei, Torment, Tao Wu, Ardent, Siren, and Dart ready to depart in Hercules with Audacious and Lynx."
Rapidly, tannoy announcements were made and members of Fusion moved swiftly in aid of their colleagues who were in mortal danger.
Roosevelt Park
Hellcat was in her element and felt little to no fear as her claws disarmed first one and then the second of the three men.
But the third had a vicious smirk on his face and Hellcat did not like it, not one bit. The man exuded confidence, unlike most she faced upon the streets of Chicago. Something was not right but she could not figure out what that was – until she heard a bang closely followed by a scream from behind her.
It was her sister's scream.
Hellcat knew that her brother was there as well and he was perfectly capable of looking after himself as proven multiple times. Then came the sound of gunshots. Things were coming apart . . . fast. The distraction was enough for her opponent to get in a punch which took her off her feet as his fist landed squarely on her chest. She crashed against a car and fell to the ground even as the man kicked her in the right thigh as he passed her and ran into the darkness towards where she knew her brother and sister had been behind cover. Despite the pain, she looked up and could see many feet amongst which were those of her brother who appeared to be fighting for his very being.
Indeed, Tigercat was fighting a few feet from his older sister. They had been ambushed while concentrating upon Hellcat. Stormtide had been struck by a large projectile – most probably a breeching round from a shotgun – which had put her down to the ground, writhing in agony. Tigercat had turned to find two men advancing on him. The men were massive and towered above him. The boy felt fear – as he should; it was healthy – but that only made him fight, knowing that his sisters were depending upon him.
He drew his single Wakizashi blade and made sure that should he fall, he would make his death very difficult and very painful for the men.
..._...
Petra and Red Raven were caught out of position.
It was obvious that the attackers had made for the lesser foes, bypassing the more formidable fighters. That made Petra very angry as she and Red Raven remounted their motorcycles and raced through the length of the park at high speed.
The sight which met the pair was not good. Hellcat was on the ground but moving, and Tigercat was fighting way above his level all while holding his own. Then there was Stormtide who was obviously hurt but the fifteen year old was fighting back despite visibly stumbling as she fought with her double ended bō-staff. Indeed, a man fell to the ground, screaming as blood sprayed out – although to be more specific it was hi left leg which fell to the ground first, but closely followed by the man. He was swiftly put out of his misery as Stormtide reversed her bō-staff and drove it down hard into the man's upper chest, severing his heart in two. Her movements gave the other attackers pause but only for a split second before they reattacked in a vain attempt at avenging their colleague. They had unwittingly released a very pissed off young woman who had suffered more than most over the preceding few months and she so wanted payback, not to mention that she took a severe and very deadly view of anybody who tried to cause her younger siblings harm. The breaching round had struck her left thigh and she could not feel her leg, a feeling which scared her, as she could readily remember the time she had not been able to feel much below her chest. She caught sight of movement beyond her fallen sister and was relieved to see Petra and Red Raven arriving. She was professional enough to know when she needed assistance and she welcomed the sight of Red Raven helping Hellcat to her feet while Petra ran at the men surrounding Tigercat, the blade of one of her beautiful and very deadly Katana swords glinting beneath the street lights.
For the residents of Roosevelt Park, it was both an amazing show and a very disturbing development.
Logan Square
Wildcat was in her element.
Her claws dripped with blood as she slashed and stabbed. Her flexibility and acrobatic skills kept her out of reach of the men desiring to tear her apart as they fought what had originally seemed to be an easy battle, only they had not accounted for the canine angle. The dogs were an equalizer. Whether it was the gnashing teeth or the bone-chilling growls, nobody considered being ripped apart while still alive a fun way to die. Being struck by one of Jackal's fists wasn't fun either and his armour ensured that only the hardest of strikes actually hurt. But, like all things, the fight dwindled and then there was calm as the vigilantes found that only they still stood proud and therefore, victorious. Nightmare looked around, as she searched for another foe, her chest heaving as she forced herself to calm down after the fight. She was joined by Fortune who was cleaning off her Chinese Han double-edged sword.
"That went well," Fortune said.
"Ended too quickly," the fifteen year old Nightmare responded.
"You're fucked up!" Fortune growled as Nightmare simply shrugged in response.
Blade, Sampson, and Loki appeared somewhat dejected as they surveyed the carnage. Bodies lay scattered around the alleyway and the small parking lot. Blood spattered the fence and the animal's body armour. They were unhappy as there were no more valid targets and the three dogs simply milled around the area, searching, and ensuring that nobody snuck up on their humans. Eisenhower watched her offspring as she patrolled with Jackal who was checking over some not-quite-dead cunts. Wildcat and Trojan were examining the trash bin which had begun the entire fracas. It was a normal plastic unit and the lid swung up easily enough under the guidance of Wildcat's claws. Cautiously peering inside, her eyes caught sight of several neatly wrapped packages – it was a stash of drugs; a large stash of drugs. But more importantly, it was a large stash of drugs which was now going to find its way into Chicago PD custody.
Shadow walked up to Jackal and grinned.
"Did you enjoy yourself?" Jackal asked.
"I did, I..."
"All forces stand to!" came the urgent voice of Battle Guy over the radios. "Hotel Kilo One has been ambushed by unknown forces believed to be under the control of Sunset Phoenix. Echo is scrambling forces to respond."
"Did he just say...?" Jackal began.
"That bitch," Shadow seethed before she called out: "Let's wrap this up!"
As the CPD rolled up, Hotel Kilo Three and Hotel Kilo Four rolled out of the area at speed.
Goose Island
Sunset Phoenix emerged from the swirling smoke.
The bitch was grinning and she was not alone. Also emerging from the swirling smoke and the darkness were a dozen forms. Hit Girl's eyes checked out the newcomers as they came into view. A part of her was actually surprised as none of them screamed 'henchmen'. There was a fairly even mix of men and women, none of whom were decked out in combat clothing or visible body armour. Despite there being a ninja vibe, they were not ticking the boxes for typical ninjas. While not identical, the dozen men and women wore a uniform of sorts which indicated to Hit Girl that they were disciplined and ordered. Overall, they wore dark grey with contrasting lighter greys creating an interesting and surprisingly functional urban camouflage instead of the usual all-black shozoku often worn by ninja shinobi (male) and kunoichi (female). The clothing appeared voluminous indicating that they were free to move and fight while also concealing any outward indication of strength or body armour. Lightweight combat boots were visible on their feet and most, if not all, carried tanto blades on one or both of their lower legs. All were armed with a mix of modern and ancient weaponry. Their primary weapons were a traditional daishō consisting of a matched pair of swords. At first sight, Hit Girl's practiced eyes recognised katana paired with wakizashi but in some cases the wakizashi was replaced by a tanto. As for the more modern weapons, Glock pistols were readily visible and carried in holsters carried on the same belt which held the daishō.
Lightweight black gauntlets on the hands and black ninja hoods completed the outfits.
..._...
Psyche moved to stand on Hit Girl's left, drawing her twin sais as she did so, leaving plenty of space as Hit Girl drew her twin Katana swords.
They were joined by Fury who drew her own sais and took up a position to Psyche's left. Splinter moved to Hit Girl's right, his ninja-to drawn and ready for action. They did not have long to wait as the dozen grey ninjas swarmed forwards. Psyche, Fury, and Splinter moved outwards giving each other space to fight, and as they did so, the grey ninjas adjusted their trajectories away from Hit Girl, leaving the way open for Sunset Phoenix to move towards Hit Girl who very soon found herself corralled off from her colleague vigilantes. Not that anybody was worried; Hit Girl could stand her own without an issue.
As the battle was joined, all instantly realised that the enemy were professionals and not some rag-tag group of mercenaries. There was discipline. There was control. They grey ninjas moved as a team, never allowing one of their number to be alone without backup. But as that team, they worked to separate the three vigilantes moving amongst them. Psyche, Fury, and Splinter remained together protecting one another's backs. Steel clashed against steel as the weapons came into contact. The smoke and darkness faded away and the four-to-one fight became the only world which mattered for the three veteran vigilantes who had quickly figured out that they were fighting for their very being against highly skilled foes. For Splinter, fighting against overwhelming odds was just a fact of life for the youngster, ever since he was taken and made to live a feral existence with the Russian mob. He had learned to fight to survive. He had learned to fight to eat. He had learned to fight boys (and girls) twice his size.
If required, he could fight dirty to protect himself – and others, and that was exactly how he was going to fight that night.
..._...
Hit Girl had no choice but to focus on the pretender for FEAR's crown.
Eighteen months previously, the flamboyantly coloured bitch had appeared in Chicago, riding on the coattails of FEAR. She had proven to be a good fighter, but her discipline had not been good and that allowed more disciplined fighters to fight her into a corner which had ultimately led to her wounding and capture.
"What are you up to?" Hit Girl growled as she brought her blades around to block a blade of the pink bitch's double-bladed ninja sword staff.
"This city has a vermin problem," Sunset Phoenix responded as she expertly side-stepped Hit Girl's strike. "It is called Fusion."
"You and I have a very different definition of vermin," Hit Girl growled as she brought her swords back around, forcing her opponent to step backwards.
"I am committed to destroying you and getting my hands on that bitch – I want her to suffer."
Hit Girl struck again and again with her katana, batting aside the sword staff, and then stepping inside the arc so that her masked face was just inches from that of Sunset Phoenix.
"Change the fucking record, bitch!"
Surprisingly, Sunset Phoenix remained focussed as she struck back with decisive force, making use of skills she never had previously. She had obviously used her time in Gotham well.
"I've nothing else to live for; so why not avenge my Kara."
"She's dead; fucking leave it!"
The force of the strikes as she wielded the double-bladed ninja sword staff with immense skill and strength – both mental and physical – was noticeable and Hit Girl was forced to take two steps back and then another to her right.
"You're just fucked up in the head."
"Pot, kettle, black!" Sunset Phoenix retorted.
"Touché!"
Hit Girl was caught out as she was struck by a boot and then the shaft of the sword staff. Part of Hit Girl was thinking that it could not be Summer Frasier beneath that armour and mask but the mention of her sister and the obvious grief had all but confirmed the woman's identity. Hit Girl knew from personal experience that grief was useful when it came to fighting and it always produced an edge over an opponent. However, it was a first for her to be on the receiving end and her opponent was most definitely driven as she struck again and again. Hit Girl began to be pushed back . . . but only for a moment as she escalated her defence allowing her to attack and in turn she drove Sunset Phoenix back until they were too close for blades. Sunset Phoenix fell back as she was punched twice and then kicked in the chest.
She stumbled and fell.
Hit Girl advanced on the woman, her katana raised as the woman pulled a tanto from her right leg in defence and thrust it at Hit Girl.
..._...
Psyche had expected an easy evening facing off against badly trained cunts.
She had not counted on being blown up and then pushed into a low odds fight against highly-trained professional killers. But then four to one was not unknown and she had faced worse. Indeed, within the first few minutes, two of the grey camouflaged ninjas had succumbed to Fury and Psyche leaving Splinter playing catchup. One ninja had died with a sais to the throat, severing his backbone – that had been Psyche – while the other was still whimpering on the ground, unable to move as she slowly bled out from a fatal arterial bleed to the left thigh which had been caused by Fury. The blood from the bleed had exploded out and a third grey ninja had skidded on the fresh liquid, allowing Splinter to then get onto the scoreboard, but not with the first strike, as he discovered that his opponent wore body armour beneath their voluminous clothing. His strike did cause his opponent to spin around which then allowed his ninja-to to penetrate the grey ninja's right ear and continue on through to emerge from the left ear.
Fury found herself with her back to Psyche and the pair fought like they were joined at the hips. The grey ninjas had more than several inches on the pair and could strike with enough energy to cause a lot of pain if no actual injury thanks to their hi-tech armour.
Each of the grey ninjas were able to wield their daishō with skill. Some chose to use their katana paired with wakizashi to great effect as they fought with the katana, drawing in their opponent before striking from the side with the wakizashi. That had Fury Psyche working hard, their eyes trying to move in opposite directions at once as they covered every quarter. Then Psyche lost one of her sais as it was struck from her hand by a wakizashi blade which she had not seen. Instead of abandoning Fury, she pulled her combat knife and continued to fight, deflecting blow after blow. Even when the next grey ninja fell – Psyche's remaining sais sticking out of the corpse's left eye socket – the odds were being to weight against the trio who were tiring fast.
Then Splinter shouted out a warning: "More grey ninjas inbound!"
Indeed, another dozen identically clad grey ninjas appeared out of the darkness, some eighty yards distant, running down West Division Street.
..._...
Hit Girl had heard the shouted warning and she groaned inwardly as she spotted the reinforcements.
The odds were not improving – no fucking surprise there, she figured! The distraction had been all Sunset Phoenix had needed as she struck with her tanto into Hit Girl's left thigh (causing no damage) all while she pulled a pistol and fired off three rounds into Hit Girl's chest. Then the night exploded into sound as two streaks of light terminated on the street fifty yards distant and two reduced-load 5-pound Hydra 70 rocket fragmentation warheads detonated sending out lethal metallic shrapnel to a radius of around twenty yards. The detonations stopped the grey ninjas dead.
Quite literally dead in some cases.
..._...
Curving around to make another pass, URSULA was all but invisible in the dark sky.
Rampart reached over to the weapons panels, and she confirmed that the MAS (master armament switch) was up and then she twisted the central of three knobs two clicks to the left from 'RKT' to the mark labelled 'GUN'. Next, she moved her gloved hand down to the panel below and flipped up two switches to arm each of the M134D-H Gatling guns mounted on the inside stations of the weapon wing. Indicator lights indicated the weapons were cocked and ready to fire. Green numerals indicated that there were fifteen-hundred rounds available in the magazine for each weapon and that the burst setting was enabled and set to twenty-five rounds – a mere half-second burst. As the helicopter came around, Rampart focussed on the head-up-display mounted before her and the 'pipper' which indicated where her bullets would strike.
With a simple double squeeze of her right forefinger, fifty rounds were emitted by each M134 with the accompanying sound of two pissed off chainsaws.
..._...
The bullets streaked through the air leaving a red tracer trail behind.
The sheer number of rounds being fired in such a short amount of time ensured that from a purely psychological point of view, it seemed like some futuristic otherworldly laser beam was seeking out its prey. Two grey ninjas were shredded as each absorbed a dozen too many 7.62-millimetre rounds, leaving little more than sticky red confetti to litter the sidewalk. The surviving enemy considered themselves lucky as the deadly helicopter flew overhead and banked hard to come around for a third pass at them. But luck was not in their future as they were blindsided by a gigantic shape wielding a USAS-12 automatic shotgun. Only one grey ninja noticed the green and yellow markings on the shotgun before he saw a bright flash and then only darkness as his face (and most of his skull) was blasted from existence.
All hell was breaking loose as Hit Girl screamed out with the pain all while falling backwards. Her ears had registered the unmistakeable sounds of aerial Gatling guns closely followed by the blasts of a shotgun. Amongst the greys of the enemy, her eyes caught sight of the multicoloured array of Fusion body armour and most importantly to her, the green and yellow of her husband as he tore through the enemy like a pissed of rhinoceros, his armour all but impregnable. Her foe, Sunset Phoenix was scrambling to her feet, very conscious of the fact that her plan had failed and that her reinforcements were being decimated before her very eyes. Hit Girl brought her katana around, the blade connecting with her opponents armoured right side. Sunset Phoenix screamed out in agony as the blade, formed in the same fashion as those created a millennia ago from folded steel, cut through her armour and into the soft skin of her body. Hit Girl smirked as she registered the sight of fresh blood on her blade, and she inhaled the stench of battle as she moved to strike again.
Sunset Phoenix was in luck. She saw Fury felled by one of her grey ninjas before they expertly broke from the fight and moved to support their leader. Only four survived but that would be enough – she hoped. Hit Girl was forced back as bullets flew in her direction and she dived for cover behind a car covered in the wreckage of the shattered bridge structure. Then more bullets flew as a grey ninja dropped and Hit Girl was joined by Foxtail, Ember, and a snarling Kes.
"After her!" Hit Girl directed and they trio raced off after Sunset Phoenix who was moving in a northerly direction while Hit Girl turned her attentions to the sky. "Rampart, get your sorry ass down here!"
More grey ninjas began to appear. Most on foot but others on four-wheel-drive pickups. Eisenhower led a charge consisting of herself, Blade, Sampson, and Loki. Together, the four dogs took down six ninjas, three of which managed to break away and race for safety – a fourth grasped his groin as he stumbled away, leaving Eisenhower salivating after what she had just held in her mouth.
Jackal picked up Wildcat and threw her into the back of a passing pickup which did not go well for the three occupants who initially did not seem to want to share but Wildcat soon began evicting all three occupants' piece by piece.
..._...
Hit Girl was not a patient person and the eighty seconds it took for Rampart to land URSULA had seemed to her like eighty minutes.
The veteran vigilante wrenched open the right side forward hatch and leapt into the co-pilot's seat, pulling the hatch closed and latching it in place before she began to strap in.
"Move it!" she growled, and Rampart grinned beneath her mask as she pulled up on the collective and twisted the throttle.
The light helicopter leapt into the air, gaining altitude rapidly before diving to where Sunset Phoenix had last been seen. The FLIR turret beneath their feet turned to point in the same direction under the control of Hit Girl who moved a joystick. The faux image showed Foxtail, Ember, and Kes as they pursued Sunset Phoenix and two remaining grey ninjas. It was disturbingly obvious that Sunset Phoenix had backup staged to intervene should things go bad for her, and the bitch was bundled into the back of a truck not much different to that used as TITAN. The vehicle raced off directly, leaving an irate Foxtail, Ember, and Kes in its wake. The massive vehicle was easy for the FLIR and therefore URSULA to follow.
"Take her out!" Hit Girl directed.
Rampart was perfectly happy to do so as she checked her weapons switches and veered off to the right so she could come in from the right flank. The nose of the helicopter dropped as she brought the gunsight into play and focussed on the target. She squeezed the trigger four times, sending two hundred bullets into the armoured truck which shuddered and swerved several times but remained on the road.
Rampart was not swayed as she reset her switches from 'GUN' to 'RKT' and 'S' to 'R' – single to ripple. It took another minute to come around again and line up the sights. With less emotion than she would feel stomping on a cockroach, Rampart squeezed the firing trigger and held it down as she emptied the seven-round rocket pods of their remaining twelve Hydra 7 rockets. Twelve of the unguided missiles streaked through the air and nine struck the target, detonating and tearing open the weaker sections of armour. One had struck the front side window where it had punched through the armoured glass and sent lethal shrapnel into the driver. He stood no chance as two further rockets had struck the roadway directly ahead of the vehicle and caused the top-heavy vehicle to swerve and then tip beyond its natural point of recovery. The truck landed on its left side before rolling partway onto its roof then rolling back onto its side.
It took a few minutes for Foxtail's team to close and for her to leap atop the wreckage, and she heaved open one of the doors to the passenger compartment to find a dead ninja . . . but nobody else: Sunset Phoenix was gone. All that remained was an open upper hatch and no sign of the bitch.
Aboard URSULA as it hovered a short distance away, Hit Girl was incensed as she heard a single word over the radio: "Negative." as Foxtail emerged from the wrecked vehicle.