The first place I went was to a bar to relax. The rest of the squad was probably wondering what had happened, but my nerves needed a little alcohol therapy to settle them. Cloak Division had used the "We mean business" slogan for years but I thought of a better one. "Cloak Division – We ruin your day." I smiled and tossed back a shot of rye. The bruises I felt weren't bad enough to warrant a shot of KS, but the whiskey turned out to be a great substitute.
K'rth once talked about a run in he had with Cloak about a year or so ago. They thought that he had seen something he hadn't and wanted to talk, so a couple of Darkfinders brought him in. Although he didn't go into detail, I gathered that they beat on him for three days before they decided he wasn't lying. He was docked nearly a full SCL level due to a "lack of cooperation" in addition to the penalty for not completing the BPN he was on when they grabbed him. He referred to them as N'tch'd kl'dk which translates to "cowards behind masks". I can't say I blame him for holding a grudge.
I looked around the place and took in a few of the patrons. When I walked in I hadn't noticed much in my beeline for the bar, but now I had time to look around and liked the atmosphere. The place was about half-packed with low level operative types and a good mix of civilians. There wasn't much of a chance of trouble here, so I relaxed. I should have known better.
An argument near the door was gradually rising in volume and had drawn one of the bulkier bartenders to that area. A couple of guys having a drink had gotten a little rowdy and he went over to step on it. For a few moments, things were quiet and I guessed it was over.
There was a crash and one of the waitresses fell into a table with her tray. The two guys had started fighting and one decided to warm up on the bartender. The kid looked like one of those boy-toy model sorts working himself through school with a night job. He started by grabbing the shorter of the two by the collar and pushing him backwards towards the door. The little guy half-turned, grabbed a beer bottle from a passing table, and smashed it across his face. The bartender went down in a spray of glass, blood, and foam. v I normally don't like to get involved in this kind of crap, but the bigger of the two men was a Frother and SLA doesn't need any more black eyes in the PR department. I set my drink down and started to stand, but things happened way too quickly.
The smaller man was quick, I'll give him that. In one motion, he scooped his jacket off the back of the chair and threw it at the operative's face. His other hand pulled a pistol from the rear of his waistband and he started shooting even before the jacket had hit the floor. The weapon was a CAF and he hit the operative four or five times before he went empty. The operative stumbled backwards, coming to his feet and tossed his duster off.
"Shit," I thought aloud. The operative was one of the MacReadys, Angus's clan and I shook my head. They love to fight almost as much as they love their UV. I started over to try to break this up before it got uglier. I heard the hiss of an air hypo and moved more quickly.
Blood soaked the Frother's scalp and was running into his eyes and mouth, turning his drool pink. He pulled his lips back to show clenched teeth and snarled like a dog. Wobbling slightly on his feet, he wiped the blood from his eyes on the back of one hand and licked it. Pulling a Blitzer from his off side, he yelled and raised it. Everyone on that side of the room dove for better cover with the exception of the idiot who had shot him.
The pistol boomed and blood sprayed the wall and table behind the shorter man. The first round caught him in the midsection and tore a beer stein size hole in his back. The Frother fired five more times, each impact carrying the body further backwards. The last shot tore the top half of the man's head off and he slumped, dumping a table into the floor behind him. Beer and blood poured across the floor along the joints in the tiles and washed across the Frother's boots.
For a few moments, my heart was the only sound I could hear beyond the echoes of the shots. I was vaguely aware of the people crawling for better cover and stepped across a waitress to close the distance. The Frother stood staring at his work over the barrel of the handcannon and looked like he was just about to get started. He noticed me when I was just about six feet away and swiveled drunkenly to aim it at me. In KMS, we call that Primary distance +1 and he was well in range.
"You're out of ammo, pal" I told him, but it didn't seem to register. His eyes were glassy but the face was tense and pale. I wondered how many hits of UV he had taken before he pulled the pistol.
He half-laughed and pulled the trigger. Click. I rushed forward.
He pulled the trigger again twice. Click Click. I aimed my knee and brought my right shin up to the side of his head. There was a loud smack and his head went sideways like a mannequin then righted itself. He dropped the pistol and began to reach for the Claymore resting on his chair. I shin-kicked the outside of his left thigh, then reset and hit him lower, trying to take out the knee. The ligaments popped, but the pain had no effect and he kept standing. Damn combat drugs.
He started screaming again and half-turned to reach again for the Claymore. I kicked the chair upwards and if flipped away under a table, taking the sword with it. He hesitated for a moment and as he tried to reach for a MAC knife, I hit him again. I was at Primary distance now and hit him with a fist-elbow-elbow combination that sent him into the table. The bastard pulled a smaller knife from his ankle and lunged, but I sidestepped and trapped his arm, hyperextendeding the elbow. The bone snapped with a loud crack and I followed up with a sliding body shot and a knee trap that snapped his right knee backwards. That should have done it but he caught himself on his left arm as he crumpled forward. I shook my head. Some people never give up.
He was cursing with a bad slur in his native tongue and vainly trying to grab the empty Blitzer with his broken arm. I straddled him, snaked my knuckle around his neck from behind and grabbed his heavy clothing. Pulling it back around and upwards towards the joint of his chin, I had him in a full blood choke. After a minute or so, his fumbling stopped and he hung limp from my hands. I shoved him down and quickly double cuffed him before I searched him. Blood chokes are insidious things that you can't see coming until it's almost too late. The flip side is that the victim recovers quickly if you let up. He jerked awake a few moments later and I kept sitting on him to keep him down.
"Jeez, I hate it when people can't hold their liquor" I said to one of the patrons. "You, put a call in to Shivers." The guy I told it to nodded and went to the bar for a phone.
The evening was now officially ruined. I had planned to just go into a bar and just get a drink and relax before going home to sleep, but walked into this mess. After about twenty minutes of the Frother trying to buck me off and yelling every obscenity he knew, Shivers arrived and took him off my hands. I was tied up for another half hour giving a preliminary statement, but managed to get free of anything longer on the promise that I'd send a complete version tomorrow.
When I tried to go back to finish what was left of my drink, one of the waitresses threw her arms around my neck and started bawling on my shoulder. Before I was finally out of there, I had been given half a dozen phone numbers and more thanks than I really felt comfortable with. "Aw, shucks ma'am, it's just my job" went through my head, but I held it back. I wanted out of here and couldn't come here again unless I wanted to get mobbed.
As I pushed free of the patrons and into the rain, someone followed me. I didn't think there was enough of me left to lose anyone determined, but was willing to try.
"Excuse me, Operative? Ex-CUSE me!"
I stopped and turned around to see a cute blonde in a raincoat and khakis following me. The raincoat was a light purple and looked like one of those funky "Personality Ponchos" that are big in New Paris right now.
"Yes ma'am?"
"Hi. I'm Lisa Price, 3rd Eye. I saw that fight back there and have to say I'm impressed. What's your name?"
I thought again about the "Aw shucks" line and decided against it.
"Alex Cole, KMS."
"Thought you were Kick Murder. Nobody cleans a clock like one of you guys. You with a squad?"
"Yeah, I'm with Rogue Shift." I thought about saying I was with Cloak's Latest Bitches, but didn't think it would be a good career move. Big Brother is listening and watches 3rd Eye.
"I haven't heard of them," she said, looking me over. "Have you ever considered doing something a little more public? Like the Circuit?"
"Me, a Contract Killer? I don't think so. I like what I do already." The idea of me parading about in a stupid costume fighting superhero types seemed like a joke. "So what can I do for you? If you're looking to pick me up, I've got to say you’ve got the most indirect approach of anyone tonight."
"Well, I'll hand it to you. You've certainly got balls." She laughed for a moment and a slight blush came to her cheeks. "Actually, I thought I might be able to find a good story following an Op squad around. If I got approval for it that is."
I laughed. She was indirect, so indirect that I didn't see that coming. "How about I give you the cell number for the squad leader. If your boss approves, you can give Casper –"
"Casper?" she interrupted with a laugh.
"Yeah Casper. She's the squad leader and you should probably give her a call. In the meantime, maybe you could give me your phone number so that I can let you know what she says." Ms Price wasn't the only one who could be indirect. She smiled again, the sort you see on the "Welcome to the 11 O'clock news" person's face and gave me her card.
"If you hear something positive, let me know and we can do lunch or dinner and talk about it."
With that, we parted and I headed home laughing. "Doing" a meal was one of those phrases that I couldn't take seriously although a lot of higher ups certainly did. I managed to hit the subway and make it to my apartment building in record time.
Start the evening by completing a BPN, get kidnapped and interrogated by Cloak, and end up busting up a fight and getting media coverage or at least a nice date. Things were starting to look up.
Sometimes I really love being an operative.
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