The Wanderer

(c) R Wood 2001

28

One of my KM instructors named Carson used to talk about what she called the "God" factor when teaching engagement distances. It went something like this: in unarmed or armed hand-to-hand, you lose because you make a mistake and there's no one to blame but yourself. When a gun is involved, all of that is thrown out and it's the bullet decides your fate, so get too close for them to fire. She used to say "God is a bullet" and it made perfect sense.

The redheaded puke stepped forward nearly into my striking distance and grinned so hard that the veins were popping out of his head. He was so excited that the barrel of the pistol waved in front of my face as he giggled.

"I'm gonna enjoy this a lot!" he said and took aim at my head. A couple inches closer and he was mine…

"Hold a minnit, Malcolm," one of the others said as he pulled him back. This one was older, nearly thirty, and probably the leader of the group. He pushed down the younger McLeod's arm and locked his slate gray eyes with mine. I doubted that he had any moral problem shooting an extra operative and easily made me for what I was.

"We need to make this slow. Make an example of the motherfucker MacReady." He said as tossed his head at Angus. Mac spat at his feet, then gasped and shuddered as he fired his hypo.

"But this one, this one's a freebie!" Malcolm yelled, almost like a kid.

"Who're you?" he asked, ignoring the redheaded puke.

"The name's Cole. I'm his friend."

"This the guy that jumped you?" he asked Malcolm who nodded and slobbered like a mad dog. From this angle, I could tell that I had broken his nose. I couldn't help but smile as I spoke.

"I didn't jump him. I kicked the hell out of him, and him. And him at the same time." I said, pointing out the ones I thought were there with him. Okay, maybe what I did was technically an ambush, but there were three of them…

"Isn't this prick man enough to handle his own fights?" I asked. I figured the crap was going to hit the fan anyway, so a little prodding couldn't hurt.

"Y' MOTHER-" he said as he started forward again. Just as he stepped into my range, the older man pulled him back and slung him into a wall with a thud. He pinned him in place with one hand as he spoke and pointed at me.

"You! You shouldn't have interfered," he said as he wiped his mouth and studied the younger man's face. Something silent passed between them, and with a pat on the cheek, he let the smaller man go.

"S'really too bad for ya. Kill th'both of 'em," he said as stepped back.

I heard the hums of power Claymores and saw one of the MacLeods pull the sheath off a wicked looking homemade GASH fist. Malcolm proudly strode forward right into my range without pulling the trigger.

"I'm gonna enjoy this!" he said as he raised his pistol.

"Don't be so sure," I said and stepped in to go on offense.

He must have fantasized about the way this was going to go and cursed when I didn't let him simply shove the pistol in my face and fire. If he wanted to give me a chance by stepping into my zone, that was fine with and I took advantage of it. God might be a bullet, but it's still got to hit first.

Flustered that I'd screwed up his aim, he made another mistake and contorted his arm to shoot. I grabbed the wrist and wrenched it upward, taking his elbow over the shoulder until it popped. He started to yelp, but I cut him off with a forearm to the face that snapped his head back and turned his knees to jelly. He wobbled and started to go down but something told me to keep him standing and I heaved him in front of me like a shield. Sometimes, instincts are real lifesavers because I heard the gunfire a heartbeat later. The air went hot around me as the slugs ripped past, sending chips of plastic from the partition rattling around me and sticking in my hair. Malcolm began to twitch and flinch as rounds hit him instead of me, but one went through and smacked my shoulder armor had enough to turn me sideways. A second later, the fluorescent light at the back exploded into a fiberglass cloud burst and we were partially in shadow. I cursed and kept behind my shield, but then one of the geniuses with the guns realized that shooting through one of their own to get me wasn't that great of an idea.

"Ewan STOP! Yer kill'n Malc! Go get 'im with a blade!"

I let out my breath in relief when the Frother who was probably named Ewan tucked the pistol away and snapped up a Claymore. Blades and fists I can handle, but I haven't learned how to dodge bullets yet. It's probably above my SCL anyway.

The brute coming at me looked to be the one I had planted in the candy machine back at the apartment. His eyes were wild and he was drooling like the rest of them, but with the new scars across his face, his inbred boyish bad looks were even uglier. He held the quivering blade in front of him as he came forward in the stark shadows and I still held his brother in front of me. I decided to take advantage of Malcolm's mistake again.

I cranked down on Red's wrist with both hands hard enough to break it and started squeezing the trigger on his pistol. He was going limp and between the recoil and his weight, I couldn't aim worth a damn. I killed a mirror, an overhead lamp, and blasted an innocent towel dispenser before I managed to hit a hostile. One of the MacLeods that had been working on Angus buckled and clutched his throat just as crimson squirted between his fingers and splattered his shirt. Mewing like a dying cat, he panicked, dropped his Claymore, and stumbled for the door. Angus let out a "hoo-ya" and kept swinging. At least one of us was enjoying this.

Since I didn't pay for the slugs, I had no problem burning the clip if I stood any chance at all of hitting one of them. The pistol's recoil punished my fingers in the awkward grip and I massacred a couple of sinks and a slew of tiles before I managed to tag the incoming McLeod. He took two slugs at about point blank range, but it barely slowed him down and his momentum slammed Malcolm and myself backwards against a stall partition. With a wet crack, it popped clear of the floor and I stumbled backwards, trying to catch myself. With a pivot, I sent both frothers past me, but kept my hold on Malcolm and swung him forward to kiss the wall. Angus was still holding the rest of the goon squad back, but there was no telling when they'd all wade in and overwhelm us. Like before, I had to put these two down before we got mobbed. I wondered why they were coming at us one at a time, but wasn't going to complain.

Ewan shuffled to his feet and charged again with a growl, so I shoved the dazed redhead forward as a tackling dummy. The force bounced both of us into the wall and I ducked as Ewan reached around to claw at my face. With his hand out and around his brother's chin, he made a tempting target so I grabbed his wrist and pivoted to extend the elbow. He went with it, choking Malcolm upwards until I planted a thrust heel kick into his chest. He reeled into the partitions and they gave way behind him like a stack of dominos. This guy had that falling down thing down pat and I turned back to Malcolm who was still seeing three of me. He didn't seem nearly as brave as before and looked at me with a puzzled look.

"Was it everything you hoped for, Red?" I asked

I wrenched the pistol out of his hand and broke a couple of his fingers as a bonus. His eyes were only just beginning to register pain, and I wanted to make this count before he was off his drug cocktail. Lacing my fingers in his hair, I yelled and slammed him face first into the mildewed wall. Tiles popped loose and fell on his scalp, the cheap mortar mixing with blood and spit. I slammed him again then tossed him backwards, sending him spinning into the open. This time I had broken more than just his nose and the powder made him look like a mime that had been hit by an APC. I kicked him into a urinal and he slumped to the floor in a shower of dirty water and porcelain chips.

For some reason, the McLeod boys seemed to be concentrating on me instead of Angus and I wondered if it was because I was unarmed. The one with the GASH fist suddenly broke off from Angus and came at me at a dead run. If I only had the time to pull my Blitzer, I would have finished this mess in three good shots. I pivoted to give myself room to maneuver and waited for him to come into my range.

He picked up speed after he ducked Angus' blade and I figured he wanted to knock me into the partitions. I took his charge and speared him with a solid thrust kick that picked him off the floor with his momentum. He doubled over and groaned (I aimed low), so I stepped up and whipped an uppercut into his face that picked him off the floor. It made a sound like a bat hitting a side of beef and I thought I had broken my hand. The Frother managed to stay on his feet, but Angus took his shot and chopped him from behind with his Claymore. The McLeod boy responded with a scream and a weak slash, then stumbled back towards me. It was clear that he wasn't used to fighting multiple opponents and was in over his head.

"Sucks to get ganged banged, doesn't it?" Angus asked. Apparently, we were still in synch and I gritted my teeth. I had a bloody mouth and spat into the floor.

The Frother's tartar and legs were stained dark and he was about to go into shock from the wound. Looking back at his brothers who were still holding back, terror flashed across his face and he let out a wail then rushed Mac. I stepped in and snapped a sidekick into his knee that broke it forward and sent him tumbling forward. Angus roared and turned to give the man a coup de gras, slamming the Claymore into the McLeod's gut. The point of the blade quivered as it bit through the man's cloak and with a wicked sideways rip, he sent the man flopping forward into a heap at my feet. MacReady added insult to it by skewering him over the drain and stomped the head until the body stopped moving. I wiped the sweat off my face and looked at the damage to my slick and armor. So far we were both okay and most of them were down. Either we were better than I thought or these guys were seriously overrated.

Suddenly, the room echoed with a deep snarl from the entrance and I knew Obie had arrived. The oldest brother met my eyes and nodded as he came forward, realizing he was out of options and probably out of luck. With our Chagrin at the door, they had no way out of here short of bodybags.

The big Frother proved how stupid he was when he spun and lunged forward at the Chagrin. 714s are remarkably quick for such a large creatures and Obie caught the Frother's forearm before he connected. With a roar, he slammed the man half way through the wall and the blade rattled and spun away across the tiles. With a follow up strike, he hit the Frother with an overhand claw that removed half his face, but the target was too drugged up to notice. He climbed to his feet and lunged at him again, this time with a 3" backup shiv.

The drugs in his system worked against him since he couldn't pass out from shock as the Chagrin went to work. He was probably conscious as he was pulled limb from limb and I was only sure it was over when the Frother's screams ended. I knew LAD couldn't do anything for him, even if they somehow managed to find all the pieces. Obie is a wrecking machine, pure and simple and he loves his work.

"Yer not bad, but it' won't matter," he said as he pulled a customized MAC knife. He had been watching me the whole time and had a good idea what to expect. I still didn't have time to pull my pistol and made due with what I had, shifting my stance.

"Everybody has to die sometime," I said and readied myself.

He closed with me cautiously, and then slashed twice, but I took the hits on my forearm guards and chest armor, then ducked back and to the side. His blade was held like a professional and it vanished and reappeared as he maneuvered in the dim light. He was very good and the only way I could beat him was to fight smarter, so I fell back on my training. His eyes were locked onto mine and when he came forward, I timed his steps and tried not to telegraph my movements.

He flipped the blade in his hand, feinted low, and then slashed at my face but I had seen it coming and backed up. Even with that, the tip tore a furrow in my breastplate and hissed past my chin. When he stepped again, I dropped low and swept my heel across the low water on the floor to take out his feet, popping the snap on my holster as I rotated. He spun in the air and landed hard on the concrete, but grunted and kicked up to land in a low squat. By the time he stopped moving, I had my Blitzer in hand and the hammer back. His eyes told me that he knew I had him. My instructor's words came back to me and I said them aloud.

"God's is a bullet."

I fired and the shot sounded like a cannon in the small area. The round ripped through the center of his chest and shattered the pipes of a toilet behind him. He half rose, and then toppled backwards into the fountain of rusty water that had started to spray the wall and floor.

There was a hiss from the rear of the room and I cursed when I saw that both Malcolm and Ewan had managed to get their hypos working and taken hits. They giggled as they got to their feet and I shifted my aim to Malcolm who was closer. It looks like everyone of them was dumb as hell and didn't know when to stop.

"NOW it's over, dumbfuck," I said as I braced my arm and guided the red dot across the wall to his head. He just giggled and they were on their way.

I squeezed the trigger but the shot was a little off center and caught Malcolm as he was turning. His jaw and nose disintegrated in a spray of red and he screamed in rage. I steadied myself and fired again, catching him nearly between the eyes and his face vanished in a red meaty splash. Gore spattered the wall and formed red clumps in the low water as he splashed forward into a heap. I snapped my aim to the second Frother, but never got my shot off.

There was a flash of light and something hot and unnatural tore past my shoulder and sizzled into center of the other Frother's chest. His clothing sparked and caught fire as he groaned and fell over a toilet, but he still got of a litany of curses on his way down. As he pushed to his feet, a gunshot and a second blast of Ebb crumpled him on top of the broken partitions. He twitched, flopped into the floor, and died.

The only sound was the splashing water and I blew out my breath as I took stock of the carnage. There were four bodies plus the parts of one that probably made up the big guy Obie had dismantled. I wondered if there was any kind of termination warrant out on them and figured there probably wasn't. They were only alive this long because no one who mattered wanted them dead and their reputation had to have been built beating people who couldn't defend themselves. Looking at the body of the older MacLeod, I spat into the water at his feet and put my Blitzer away. He wasn't what K'rth would have called a worthy opponent and I had to agree.

"You should have known better," I said to the corpse and then looked at Angus who was still wound up and high from the drug cocktail du jour. He was alternating between panting like a dog and grinding his teeth.

"Man, I'd love ta do that agin!" he spouted. "Next time, I'll kill 'em all and you kin watch!"

"Are you hit?" I asked but he ignored me and wandered around to look at the bodies. I wasn't going to touch him in this condition since he was still too wired to be safe. Instead, I washed my hands and face and decided to let the rain take the rest. Rain slicks are as essential as armor when you're an operative, especially if you're in Kick Murder.

K'rth came in, putting away his pistol and looked me over without saying anything. Sometimes he doesn't need to speak to talk to me and it's a little weird.

"I'm ok. None of it's mine," I told him and he nodded as he knelt next to one of the bodies to fish out an ID. "These are leg breakers for a loan shark that MacReady's in hock to. I guess he's out of his grace period."

"MacLeod, Colin T," he started. "Are these THE MacLeods?"

I nodded and scrubbed the cuffs of my shirt. I hate it when I get those screwed up since I'm lousy at doing laundry. Kinda funny when you think about a KM op that can't get blood out…

"Their reputations were greatly undeserved," he said as he dropped the ID on the corpse and stood up. "I'll call the Shivers and we can get a report filed. Hopefully, we won't be held responsible for the damage."

I half laughed when I looked at the damage and kept at the scrubbing. Obie was still standing in the corner covering the dead guys and hadn't said a word yet as he stood their coasting on adrenaline. That was when Gael appeared at my elbow and touched my arm.

"So this is what a men's room looks like. Are you ok?" she asked.

I smiled at her and nodded. "I'm fine. They were after Mac and I got in the way. Nice shot by the way," I said and nodded to the Flintlock in her hand. I've seen her drop a Carrien at twenty paces with one and can't imagine how much punch she can put into a hit when she wants to.

"Thanks. You didn't do too bad yourself."

"Let's get the hell out of here and wait for the Shivers," I said and she followed me out. Obie stayed in place and I figured he was going to watch over MacReady to make sure he didn't hurt himself. I patted him on the shoulder as I passed and saw that he was completely uninjured. Those boys were nothing more than amateurs.

I went outside in the rain and let the downpour take the blood off my jacket and shoes while Gael stood under the awning. Beyond its ability to wash away evidence, it also makes for a cheap shower when you really have to get rid of something unpleasant. I was also learning that it's good for giving a little clarity when you need it most.

"We haven't really talked at all about last night," she said.

I just got out of a serious fight and she wanted to talk. I shook my head in disbelief and stretched my arms to let the rain take the gore out of the creases. I guess I don't understand women at all.

"I know. I'm not really sure what to say, except I wish I hadn't been taken away. Things sort of went downhill from there." You can always count on "Cloakus Interruptus" to ruin an evening and kill a mood. When I smiled, she reciprocated and I felt heat flow from the center of my chest and up my throat.

"Maybe we could try again, tonight?" she asked in a soft voice.

"I'd like that," I said. "I'd like that a lot."

We smiled at each other for a moment and I felt the electricity building in the air. A thought passed over her face and she pulled something from her jacket.

"By the way, you left these," she said, holding out the wrapped photos of the markings. "I thought you'd want me to look at them so I did."

"And?" I asked with a smile. Her hand brushed mine as she handed over the package and sent a charge up my arm. I wondered if we were at the "dating" stage yet or still hovering around flirtation. Maybe something beyond both?

"And, whoever did this was trying some weird mixture of folding and communication. Everything was pretty screwed up, so it probably wouldn't have worked."

"Probably?"

"Yeah, 'probably'," she added. "Since you didn't find anything really weird, 'probably' is a pretty good evaluation."

Even in the rain, she was an angel, but the rumbling of the approaching APC grounded me again. Its lights painted the falling rain green and red as it came down the ramp towards the plaza. Its claxon barked several times to clear the way and it stopped near the door.

"See you at nine," she said and went back into the restaurant. A moment later, the door swung open and K'rth pushed Angus ahead of him and under a leaking awning. He shivered and spat like a drowning cat, but couldn't struggle free of the Shaktar's grasp.

"You need to sober up so that you can talk to the Shivers," he told him and Angus shrugged.

"What's to say? The better man – better MEN won!" he corrected and winked. I shook my head and thought about calling him a stupid bastard, but he might want to fight me too. The adrenaline had pushed away my fatigue, but I still didn't want to hear him ramble.

After the boys in green piled out, I did the talking to see how much of a the collateral damage charge they were going to stick us with and how far I could knock it down. It turns out that there were outstanding termination warrants for three of the MacLeod boys and the total bounty was enough to cover the destroyed restroom with pocket change left over. I was concerned that the owner might get greedy and press charges against us, but the negotiation was pretty simple. After he got the bounties, there was only one condition – none of us could come here again. Considering the great memory I'd have, I didn't think anyone but Angus would care and agreed. I was thankful to be walking in the rain again and away from the scene.

As we walked down into the subway, my phone chirped and startled me. I slowed down to fish it out and hit the select button, painfully aware that I still wasn't used to modern technology. I considered chucking it into the subway tube since only Cloak and Casper had the number, but reconsidered. Tony had my number too which meant I had a one in three chance of being someone I wanted to speak with. If it was anyone else, I could still drop it in a trashcan.

"Alex?" a voice said but I didn't immediately recognize it. My stomach began to knot, but eased off when I realized it wasn't the bald man. It didn't sound like a corpse on the other end.

"Yes."

The voice switched into Chang and I realized it was Tony. His voice reminded me of the way some Shivers sound with their mikes since it was distant and echoing. I smiled and slowed my pace, cupping my hand over my other ear to drown out Angus's chattering.

"I've found out something that you asked about. I think I can answer all your questions," he said proudly.

"I knew you were the one who could. I'll come to the hall tonight. Thanks"

"You know, you never asked the price. It's going to be expensive," he said.

"How much?" I asked. It was a mistake to not discuss price first, but then I wasn't sure he could have found anything at all. From the sound of his voice, he had found a goldmine but he might have just been acting dramatic.

"You have to spend an evening with your Father."

I stopped walking and Angus plowed right into me. Shoving him away angrily, I put the phone back to my ear.

"What?"

"The price is not negotiable," he continued.

"You really want this, don't you?" I asked, fighting down the bile and irritation.

"More than you want the information. I can't let you to make the same mistake that I was about to."

"I'll think about it."

"Think quickly because this information isn't going to be much use to you in a couple days."

I pulled the phone away from my ear and cursed. Everything has a damn price and everyone has a damn obligation. My big brother thought that it was time to give face to the bastard who gave me my name and I didn’t have a choice if I wanted any kind of answers.

"Okay. I'll come by today to speak to you and visit him afterwards."

"Thank you. I'm looking forward to seeing you again."

I hung up without saying goodbye and realized that Angus was ranting at me. When I glared at him, he shut up, then turned to Obie and resumed his tirade. I put the phone away and stood beside K'rth on the subway platform, feeling the wind beginning to rush into the station as the train approached.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"I have to see my Father if I want to find out what's going on with this Cloak job." He paused and studied my face before speaking.

"I thought that he was dead."

I met his stare and felt the bile bubbling in my throat. There were too many old wounds at risk of being reopened and I dreaded this with every ounce of my being.

"He is to me."

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