It was one of those days, the clouds slowly moving across the sky. Yet, there was no rain. Typical glitch, thought Shirotou as he adjusted his sunglasses with a touch of two fingers. Interestingly enough, Camon was devoid of activity, the hardline not surrounded by the usual crowd of awakened as well as the occasional bluepill, often investing the enigma that were the redpills.
He leapt down from his perch, landing with a soft thump against the white-stone tiles of the plaza, next to the hardline. Shirotou flexed a gloved right hand, a dull pain emitting from near his palm. A recent encounter with Machine operatives had left him with a broken hand, something that had easily healed with a few hours of meditation in his personal processing unit as well as a tiny boost from one of Spec’s numerous residual-self-image healing programs.
Shirotou reached out for the phone with one hand, beginning to feel the programs run down his arm as he grasped the ringing phone, the programs that would return his mind back to the Neptune, back to Outpost One, back to home. Then, out of the grey skies, a gunshot roared throughout the plaza. The glass of the phone booth shattered, the phone left the operative’s outstretched hand [ringing still, of course], and Shirotou leapt to the left, the bullet missing by a mile.
“What in -” He asked himself, his question interrupted by the roar of yet another shot ringing through the night sky. He leapt again, the bullet this time narrowly missing by inches. Shirotou tumbled to a kneeling position, right hand snatching at his FM-700 handgun, the standard issue of most at his neurokinetic level. He aimed the barrel at the origin of the bullets’ trajectory [deduced by his awakened senses] and fired twice.
The two potshots, by a matter of pure luck, revealed the location of the sniper, perched high above the plaza on a rooftop not many meters away. Shiro sprung into action, leaping into the sky toward the sniper. He landed safely on the rooftop; keen eyes watching as the sniper drew his handgun, raising the barrel to fire. Shiro, quicker by a hair, raised his FM-700 and fired twice at the sniper.
The sniper’s handgun leapt from his hand, carried by one bullet from Shirotou’s pistol. The other projectile connected with the sniper’s leg, dropping the fleeing assassin to his knees in immense pain, a scream echoing throughout Camon. He tried to stand on the injured leg, but then found his face forced against the cold concrete, Shirotou’s foot somehow close to crushing his skull. Blood seeped down his pant leg, once white. In fact, his entire outfit was white.
Shirotou swore under his breath. Hadn’t he murdered her? Finished that damned operation of hers? Last time, he had checked, not many people survived being stabbed in the chest by a metal rod. He pushed his foot a little harder against the sniper’s skull, letting his anger take over. But, he couldn’t kill this man. Not yet. He needed answers. A lot of them.
He eased his foot’s hold upon the sniper’s head before asking, “Who are you? And why are you hunting me down?”
“He activated me. He sent me.” The sniper answered through hurried breaths. “You are a traitor to the program, Copeland.”
“Traitor, huh?” Shiro asked sarcastically. “Your facts are screwed up as usual, asset.”
The asset looked up at Shirotou, confused. “You know?” He asked.
“Of course!” Shirotou exclaimed. “I was the first. Unwillingly, of course.” His fingers grasped the handgrip of his FM-700, the index willed not to fire. Yet.
“Niveus never told us that.” The asset muttered under his breath.
A name! Niveus! It was a start, of course. The asset, realizing his mistake, swore and rolled out from under Shirotou’s foot, seeking to strike the Zionist’s foot. Shirotou foot smashed down against the asset’s sternum, knocking the wind out of him. Shiro’s gloved hands grabbed the collar of the asset’s white coat, tightly wound around his fingers.
“If you know what’s good for you, if he knows what’s good for him.” Shirotou growled. “You will stay away from me, from my friends, from my family. You go near any of them and I will hunt you down. I will bring this fight back to your doorstep and I will take you down so hard and so fast that you won’t even know what hit you.”
And with that, Shirotou left the asset, leaping into the night sky.
There were so many questions. And so few answers.
