"This is Marian Sellers reporting live outside of the Feng Ghi restaurant in downtown Seattle. The scene here is one of carnage and fear. Reports coming in say that some man in a black trench coat and wide brimmed hat walked into the restaurant just before closing time. He walked straight over to a circular table in the back of the restaurant. Seated there were four of the six Yakuza leaders and their bodyguards having a meal and apparently discussing business. The figure said nothing but just opened fire with a pair of pistols killing all six guards and then the four men. The few other patrons along with restaurant workers dove for cover and none of them were injured. The figure then reportedly walked out of the restaurant and disappeared. No arrests have been made and no suspects have yet to be found. I'm Marian Sellers for Juren-Tech Media."
"Oh drek, what has Greg gone and done now." Devin McCallister whispered to himself as he sipped a glass of wine. He stared at the vid screen for a few seconds more then sighed and turned it off. He looked over at the recliner in the corner. Devin smiled to himself, and walked over to his now asleep daughter. She was curled up in a ball and barely covered by a blanket. Devin watched her for a while; her little blonde curls falling across her cheek. Her little body moving up and down with each breath.
He got and walked over to her. Devin lifted her into his arms. "Okay Marie, time to put you to bed." He whispered as he gently propped her up on his shoulder.
"I'm not sleepy, I want to stay up." She whispered in a sleepy stupor. Her eyes remained closed as Devin tucked her into bed and kissed her good night.
Devin returned to the couch and stared at the blank vid screen. He looked at his watch. It was nine-thirty; Janice would be home in half an hour.
"I'm not going to call him, I'm not going to do it. He has gotten himself into this problem; he can get himself out of it. I have too many things to live for to get caught up with the Yakuza again." He thought to himself as he finished his wine. He looked over at the cell phone on his desk. Devin always used the cell phone when calling clients, it was safer and there was no way to trace it thanks to Phyllis. She rigged up some signal switcher that randomized the signal everyday making it impossible to track.
"I can't believe I'm going to call him." He sighed picked up the phone and looked up Greg Marone on his computer. He dialed and put the phone to his ear.
"Hello."
"Hello Greg, its Devin."
"What can I do for you Devin, do you have a job you think would be right up my alley, because you know I mostly work alone." The voice was the usual monotone voice that was Gregory Marone.
"No Greg its nothing like that. I just saw on the vid, about the Yakuza. Did you catch the news Greg?"
"No, I didn't I was at Phyllis's getting some equipment altered. Why, what happened?"
"Come on Greg, the trench coat, the wide brim hat, did you think I wouldn't know it was you? Why must you continue to be involved in getting yourself noticed and hated?"
"Devin, I have no idea what you are talking about."
"Come on Greg don't play games, you killed those four Yakuza and there body guards in the Japanese restaurant. "
Silence met Devin on the other end of the phone.
"Greg, hello are you there?"
"I'm still here, I went to turn on the vid. I have no idea what you are talking about, I have been at Phyllis' most of the night, and I just got back. I haven't killed anyone today."
"Well who else would kill four Yakuza, there body guards and dress up like you?"
"I don't know, but I do want to find out. Hold on Devin, the news is coming on now."
There was about two minutes of silence over the phone. Devin could just barely make out labored breathing increasing rapidly.
"Devin, you have to believe me, I didn't do this, but I am going to kill whoever did."
Chapter 2:
"I want you to find out who did this and I want you to kill him. If it was this Gregory Marone, I want his head on a platter. I also want you to hire more security. I want you to hire a mage, someone to protect me from anything. Can you handle that?" Wen's face was unusually red and it made his black hair even darker.
"Yes Mr. Wen, we will take care of it. Also, your brother called and said that he is thinking of returning to Japan and recommends you do the same." A small well-built Asian gentleman spoke softly to Wen.
"Well that coward can go ahead, he was never fit to run his section of our organization. I guess I own the city now. My brother was too weak, but I'm going to find this Gregory Marone and I'm going to watch him bleed. Fun failed to kill him when he had the chance, but I won't lose my chance."
He balled up his fists as he turned and looked outside his office window.
"Li, the city is mine now, I'm not going to make the mistakes of my former partners or our former leader. Fun rots in a Lone Star prison, my brother will escape and hide like a coward in Japan and I will unite the Yakuza once again. Li, put a two million-credit bounty on our friend Mr. Marone. Let all our people now and alert all of our bounty hunters. This is going to be fun."
"Yes Mr. Wen." Li bowed and exited the room.
Wen pushed a button on his desk and the door locked.
"You can come in Mr. Yeun. We are alone now and we can discuss your payment."
A door on the side of the office opened up and Yeun walked in. He was wearing a black trench coat and carried a black wide brimmed hat.
"You failed to kill my brother Yeun, I'm a little disappointed." Wen lit a cigarette and leaned back in his chair.
"He was not at the restaurant like you said he would be. I don't fail." The voice was raspy and harsh.
"Yeun, you are absolutely right, but don't worry about it, he is going back to Japan and now I'm in control. You have done very well and I'll make sure that I use your unique talents in the future. For now I want you to stay out of sight for awhile, but don't go too far, I may need you."
"Where is my payment?"
"Oh yes, here you go, two million as was discussed." He flung a cred stick at Yeun who deftly caught it.
"Thanks to you Yeun, I'll be rid of Gregory Marone, my brother, and my competition. The Yakuza thanks you."
Yeun nodded and walked back into the office he came from. Wen drew in a deep breath and let out a string of smoke through a crooked smile.
Chapter 3:
The boat sat still in the dark water, the only light coming from a single window on one of the lower decks. The moon was in a bright crescent that lit up the water through the intermittent clouds. It was a calm night and the wind was barely noticeable as Chen stared out into the sea, his hand safely cradling the submachine gun under his arm. He squinted at the sound of a motor and brought his gun up in caution. As the small powerboat pulled in closer, Chen relaxed his hand as he saw the dark figure standing in the back. He checked his watch.
"Right on time." He thought to himself as the boat, dwarfed by the large yacht, pulled up along side. Chen hurried down to help tie the boat up and a second guard came down to assist. He helped the dark figure onto the boat and greeted him with a small bow. Chen led the figure down into the ship. He knocked lightly on a wooden door.
"Mr. Wen-Sung, your guest has arrived." He spoke through the door.
"Let him in Chen." The voice returned through the door.
Chen opened the door for the stranger and escorted him in. Mr. Wen-Sung was seated in a chair his feet up on a futon, and a book in his lap. He was an older gentleman of about late fifties. He smiled as the two men entered.
"Thank you Chen, you are dismissed." He nodded to Chen.
"Yes sir." Chen bowed sharply to both Mr. Wen-Sung and then the stranger. He left the room and closed the door behind him with a thud.
"You run a tight ship Mr. Wen."
"Wen-Sung please Mr. Yeun. My brother may not acknowledge the fact that our full last name is Wen-Sung, but it is very important to me. Know please sit down." Mr. Wen-Sung motioned to a bench to his side.
Yeun nodded and sat down. He removed his hat and sat it down next to him. At this point he noticed the book in Mr. Wen-Sung's lap, a copy of Sun-Tzu's The Art of War.
"How fitting." He thought to himself.
"Now Mr. Yeun, I wish to thank you for being such a wonderful sport through all of this, you are obviously the best person for this job and I appreciate it very much. Now here is the five million credits I promised you." Wen-Sung handed a cred stick to Yeun.
"Now I assume that my brother is still unaware of our dealings?"
"Yes Mr. Wen-Sung, he has no idea that you are a part of this. He received the information that you were returning to Japan and thinks you are a coward and are not longer a threat to him."
"Splendid, I knew my brother would take this exactly how I wanted him too. Now am I to assume that he has offered a reward for Mr. Marone to further enhance his own deception?"
"He has indeed, Gregory Marone will be hunted like a dog by every Yakuza hit man and bounty hunter in Seattle. No one suspects Wen's plan. He has played his hand exactly as you had thought. Now what do you wish me to do?"
"Well Mr. Yeun, I would like you to stay low and continue to monitor my brother's movements. I may need you to eliminate him for me. Or to be more precise, I need "Gregory Marone" to eliminate him for me. I will be here in my yacht waiting to strike when my brother least expects it. I will let him get comfortable in his new seat as leader and then I will steal the Yakuza out from underneath him. He must continue to think that I am in Japan. Sooner or later he will forget about me and that is when you will come in and eliminate him for me."
"Fine, Mr. Wen-Sung, that sounds fine. What about the real Gregory Marone? May I go after him myself? Earn some extra cash?"
"That sounds fine, Mr. Yeun, if you wish you can kill him, but do be careful, he has already killed quite a few Yakuza and I would hate for you to die before I had used your services to there fullest."
"Don't worry Mr. Wen-Sung, I don't think I will have any trouble." He smiled a bit and Mr. Wen-Sung responded with a small chuckle.
"Excellent, then tonight you will stay here and have a lobster dinner and then tomorrow, the boat will take you back to shore, a very rich man."
"Thank you Mr. Wen-Sung, thank you." He rose to his feet, bowed to Mr. Wen-Sung and exited out the door.
Wen-Sung picked up his book and continued to read.
"You must search for enemy agents who have come to spy on us. Tempt them with profits, instruct and retain them. Thus double agents can be obtained and employed." Mr. Wen-Sung read the passage out loud to himself and then he laughed.
Chapter 4:
Phyllis shook her head to the music coming from her vid screen. She was sitting in her bathtub soaking in a pool of bubbles. Steam rose from the hot water as she laid back, her head resting on a towel. For the first time in weeks she had a couple of hours to just relax. She had been doing so many odd jobs lately that she had managed only about six hours of sleep in the last two days. She was finally getting the rest she needed. She sat for about twenty minutes; her head was slowly beginning to slip into the dream world, when there was a small click of her door opening. She sprang back to consciousness and stared out of the half open bathroom door, listening for movement. A creak alerted her to an intruder in her house and she reached under the water for her special issue pistol. She brought the waterproof weapon up above the bubbles and aimed it at the door. The creaks became louder as the person approached the bathroom. A hand slowly opened up the door. Phyllis, let out two shots that blasted a couple of splinters off the door. The hand disappeared and Phyllis heard a satisfying thump as a person fell back to the floor in surprise.
"Hold your fire, its me, Greg."
"What the frag are you doing walking into my apartment like that?"
"Sorry, I think someone is out to get me and I needed to make sure it was only you, so I picked the lock."
"How do you know it's only me now."
"Because a real killer would have come a lot closer to hitting me with two shots. No offense, but your aim is way off."
"You must be Greg, only he would insult a naked woman with a pistol. If you come in here, the next shots won't miss. Now close the door and let me get some clothes on."
Greg closed the door and went back to sit down in the chair behind Phyllis's desk. He looked over a wide array of gadgets strewn about her desk. Bits of wire and metal shards lay everywhere. A lamp with a magnifying glass was hanging over a small pile of empty shell casings next to a dish filled with gunpowder.
"There for a special order. I made the gun to carry a larger than average caliber bullet, and I made it so that only I knew how to make the bullets. I like to call it job security, but hey the guys keep coming back and I just keep making the creds." Phyllis was standing there in some black frayed jeans and a t-shirt with the words "Vid Suckers!" sprawled across it. She was still drying her short brown hair, with a towel when she came out of the bathroom. Greg marveled at Phyllis, she was an elf and stereotypically gorgeous. She had eyes that helped her to attract more male clients than her skills alone could. She was the premier techie in this part of town and could turn a toaster into a bomb in less than an hour. She had known Greg for a while and he had always come to her for ammunition or other accessories for his runs. She was quite fond of him especially after he risked his neck to save hers. After being kidnapped from her old apartment, she decided to find a new one and with some financial help from her clients and Greg, she was able to find a much more agreeable place. Phyllis had only been in the apartment a couple of weeks so she had not had time to rig up a security system yet.
"So tell me about whose after you."
"I'm not sure if anyone is after me, but I'm definitely being framed by someone."
" Who would want to frame you? Lets see, who would be really angry with you and want to kill you. Hmmm, oh that's right, the entire Yakuza whom you screwed over so royally." She mused sarcastically.
"Your sarcasm is dully noted. I did think about them accept that the four people that were killed were four of the six remaining Yakuza leaders. I know for a fact that those four were not after me, but maybe the other two."
"I don't know, maybe the internal struggle is beginning and they are using you or a likeness of you to avoid suspicion. It would not surprise me at all, your not exactly know for your subtlety and your look is somewhat unique. Makes sense that they would use you."
"You make a valid point, but this is definitely not going to make my life any easier. Every Yakuza loyalist will be looking out for me. Devin said that he was going to call his contacts to try to find out as much information as he can and try to spread the word that I'm being framed. At least I'll have some allies out there." He rubbed the bottom of his chin and looked over at Phyllis. She was sitting cross-legged in a beaten up leather chair.
"Well you're more than welcome to stay here as long as you like, just as long as you knock before entering the bathroom from now on." She smiled at. Greg smiled back.
"Thanks Phyllis, but I don't want the Yakuza coming after you again."
"Don't worry about me, I'm going to be setting up my security system tonight and I have made friends with the orcs across the hall. Peter and Alice are great and they said that they would make sure to keep an eye on my as long as I gave them deals on ammunition. They make a cute but lethal couple."
"Greg's eyebrows sprung upward. Interesting building you got here, glad to see you're making friends." He smiled back at her.
There was a knock at the door and Greg drew his pistols instinctively. Phyllis called out.
"Who is it?"
"I'm here to deliver some Chinese food from Lom Ling's. Under the name Greg."
Greg holstered his pistols.
"Ah good, finally got here."
Greg answered the door and paid the delivery guy.
"Beef Lo Mein for you and Chicken Lo Mein for me." Greg mused.
"Ohh, you remembered, how cute." She smiled at him and picked up the chopsticks.
After they finished they each read out loud their fortune cookies.
"A mysterious stranger will bring you good news." Read Phyllis. "Not bad, how about you, what does yours say."
"Thrilling adventure awaits you in the future." Greg cracked a smile. "That doesn't sound all together too promising, now does it." He munched his cookie and pondered his next move.
Chapter 5:
"Two million creds. Did you hear that Grant, two million. That's a million for each of us. Not a bad deal at all." The large troll sipped a glass of vodka as he looked at the letter in his hands.
"Man the Yakuza must really want this guy. Two million creds is a lot of money, even for the Yakuza. Walter, does it say anything about bringing him in alive or anything." Grant's small body was over shadowed by his large companion. His little dwarven legs didn't even touch the floor as he sat on the barstool.
"No, it says dead or alive and preferably dead. Sounds good to me, but I'm positive that we are not the only bounty hunters looking for him. With a price this high, it's likely every bounty hunter in Seattle will be after him, especially since it's only one guy. Incredible that this guy could kill four Yakuza leaders though. We should definitely take this guy seriously." Walter downed the rest of his vodka, paid the bartender and looked down at his partner.
"Grant we should get a head start on this guy and find out where he lives. Lets call that decker friend of yours and see what he can dig up and then we can go do our job."
"Sounds good Walter, I'll call Germaine and setup a time to meet. If anyone can find this Greg guy, Germaine can." Grant shifted the shotgun strapped to his back.
"Okay, you go make the call, I'm going to go pull the van around front." Walter nodded to Grant and walked out the front door. Grant made his way to the back of the bar to the phones. He rang up his friend, Germaine.
"Germaine's pizza, what can I get for you today?" came a cheerful voice.
"I need a large supreme with anchovies and a side of bacon." Grant responded.
"Hey Grant, how are you?" The voice was the same.
"Hey Germaine, Walter and I need some four one one, can you give us a hand?"
"Sure thing, when and where do you want to meet?"
"Sixth and Harrison, there is an old plastics factory, condemned but still has working hubs. Will that be sufficient?"
"That's all I need Grant, I'll be there is fifteen minutes. It'll be about five hundred creds to start with plus the usual add-ons for anything extra tough or sensitive. Sound good?"
"Sounds perfect, I'll see you in fifteen, thanks Germaine."
"No problem, later."
Grant hung up the phone and met Walter outside on the curb with the van.
"Okay, we need to be at sixth and Harrison in fifteen. Got it?"
"You bet." Walter put the pedal to the metal and they made there way to the old plastics factory in no time at all.
Germaine was waiting outside on his motorcycle, with his usual backpack and camo pants. His torn jeans jacket hung loosely on his small human frame. His head was hairless revealing the data jack, which was decorated around the edges with a tattoo of a sewer rat.
"Good evening gentlemen, so what are we doing tonight, corporate espionage, data steal on some new weapon or outright stealing from a bank account?" Germaine was enthusiastic and genuinely excited.
"Nothing that fancy, just looking for someone." Replied Walter.
"Oh bummer, I was hoping to earn some extra cash breaking into some tight security." Germaine seemed mildly dissapointed.
"Maybe next time, but we are in a bit of a hurry so shall we?" Grant motioned toward the open door to the building.
They all walked inside and made their way to the data hub. Germaine pulled his deck out from his backpack and plugged it into his head and then into the wall hub. He tapped a few keys.
"Okay, I'm ready, who am I looking for?"
"His name is Gregory Marone, we need as much info as you can find. Preferably where he lives and some physical description."
"No problem, here goes." Germaine sat down and closed his eyes as he typed rapidly on his deck. Walter and Grant waited patiently for over an hour while Germaine worked his magic. They played poker on the floor next to Germaine, all the while keeping an eye on him at all times.
"Okay, here's what I found." Germaine spoke for the first time in over an hour.
Grant and Walter stopped playing and listened intently to the decker.
"Greg Marone was orphaned at a young age, after his father beat his mother to death and then was killed by Greg. He was placed in a foster home, where he escaped by killing the warden. He has been known to call himself the "Equalizer" and likes to help out the underdog. He had a run in with the Yakuza about five months ago, when he reportedly brought down their leader, a Mr. Fun. His exact whereabouts are unknown, but he is believed to have a small apartment on the east side of Seattle. He is a crack shot and previous attempts to apprehend or kill him have not been successful. The Yakuza have put out a price on his head of two million dollars. No wonder you two are after him."
"No kidding, anything about a physical description?" Walter asked.
"Just that he is apparently only about twenty years old and likes to wear a black long coat with a black wide brimmed hat. I guess his weapon or weapons of choice are a pair of Ares Preds. Sounds like a mean little drek."
"Yes he does. Thanks Germaine." Grant rubbed his red beard.
Walter paid Germaine and the three of them left the building. Walter and Grant drove in silence for a while.
"What do you think Walter?" Piped up Grant.
"I think we might have our hands full, but I also think we are going to be very rich." He smiled as he drove toward the east side of Seattle.
Chapter 6:
Greg walked cautiously, as he always had, down the street to his apartment. He had been at Phyllis's for almost six hours before he grew too tired to stay any longer. Greg eyed everyone that passed him on the street. He decided that it would be in his best interest to walk without his hat on and had it tucked under his coat.
"Hey sugar, want someone to keep you warm tonight?" The young prostitute looked no more than sixteen. Her hair was tattered and the makeup covering a bruise on her face was beginning to run off her cheek.
"No thanks, but why don't you go to this address and get yourself some food." Greg flicked her a business card he had taken from a youth hostile owned by a friend of his.
She looked it over and followed Greg's shadow as it rounded a corner before she tossed the card behind her back into the street.
Greg gingerly stepped over a black cat that leapt in front of him as he continued on his way down the street. This part of Seattle was not the best but it served Greg's needs. He had thought about moving when he last had problems with the Yakuza, but he couldn't afford it. His last run had been fairly profitable but his only job was to protect a decker while she downloaded some files from a corp database. It went off without a hitch, but since he didn't do much he was only paid twenty percent of the profits. Devin had setup the job and made some money off of it as well so he gave half his share to Greg to compensate. Devin was not hurting for money and was known for being well connected.
Greg liked Devin and felt a certain protective duty toward him. Devin knew this as well and made sure to keep Greg as close as possible. You couldn't have anyone better than Greg covering your back. He was as loyal as a marine and as dangerous as a viper. The perfect bodyguard.
Greg kicked a can out of his path and it clanged against the gutter before rolling into a sewer drain. Greg looked over to his apartment as it loomed closer. It was a four-story tenement. His apartment was only three rooms and was made of paper-thin walls. The noise may have been bad but at least it didn't have any cockroaches or rats. Greg climbed the front steps to his apartment building. Behind him a van pulled out from an alley. Greg climbed the six flights of stairs to his third story apartment. He paused at the door to check a strip of tape he placed at the bottom to see if anyone had entered his apartment. It was still there. He peeled it off and walked in. Greg locked the door behind him and threw his coat and hat on the ratty couch in the corner. A troll and dwarf exited from the van and entered the apartment. They checked the mailboxes before proceeding. Marone: RM 306. They nodded to each other and proceeded up the stairs.
Greg checked the messages on his machine. There was nothing from Devin or Phyllis, only a message about winning some free subscription to "Seattle Quarterly." He erased it and walked over to the fridge. He shook the quart of milk and checked the date. Greg picked up a clean glass and poured himself a glass of milk. There was a nock at the door.
"Whose there?" Yelled Greg.
The bullets burst through the door in a deafening roar. The first bullet shattered the glass in Greg's hand and sent him falling backward away from the front door. Milk was everywhere. The bullets ceased and Greg drew his two Preds from his shoulder holster. Greg peaked around the corner of the kitchen and fired through the smoke and debris that was his front door. He shot a long line along the wall. There was a small grunt and a thump from behind the walls.
"Drek! He hit me in the leg." Came a loud voice through the wall. Greg looked over at the window across the living room. He would have to run in front of the door and out the window to the fire escape. Greg knelt low, fired two shots at the door and then sprinted across the room. Bullets shattered the wall in his wake and the vid screen burst into a flash of sparks. Greg ducked out of the living room and out the window. He fired another burst of bullets into the living room as he heard the remaining section of his door crash down.
"Walter did you get him?" A small voice came through the smoke as Greg made his way down the fire escape.
"No, I didn't, look there the window's open." A loud voice boomed after Greg as he reached the ground. Greg caught the sight of a large troll peeking his head out the window just as he rounded the corner of the alley. Greg took off down the street in a burst of adrenaline and fear.
"Get in the van. He can't outrun the van." Greg barely made out the voice as he turned another sharp corner and ducked into an alley. He crouched down behind a dumpster and checked his Preds, still had half a clip each. A van passed by the alley slowly. It made two passes more before it proceeded back to Greg's apartment. Greg watched from the sanctity of a shadow as the two ransacked his apartment. When he knew they wouldn't catch him, he hailed a cab and took off for Phyllis'.
Chapter 7:
"What did you find Grant?" Walters voice was somewhat strained as he bandaged the wound in his leg.
"Nothing much, he doesn't have any pictures or phone numbers or anything around here. I checked the bedroom, nothing hiding that I could tell. I did find his gun cleaning kit and some toiletries, but no phone numbers. How are we supposed to find him now? It's like he doesn't have any friends or relatives or anything. He could be anywhere." Grant's voice was full of fury and he threw the gun kit against the wall.
The phone rang. Grant and Walter stood there and waited in silence. Four rings and then the answering machine picked up.
"Hey Greg its McCallister, I know I don't usually leave a message, but this is important. There has been a bounty put on your head by the Yakuza. Two million, keep your ear to the ground and watch your back." The machine clicked off.
Walter smiled and picked up the phone. He dialed and waited. Grant looked at him with curiosity.
"Hey Germaine, it's Walter. I need you to trace the last phone call that came in through this line and look for the name McCallister. I need an address and a name. Got that?"
"No problem Walter, let me just jack in and then I'll be golden." Germaine's usually excited voice went silent for about five minutes then returned.
"Okay Walter the phone call came from the north side. Some nice home, the guys name is Devin McCallister, he had some security on the matrix, but nothing I couldn't handle. So this is going to cost you another thousand."
"I'll make it two thousand, if you can get me an address."
"I thought you would never ask. Here it is: 234 Hickory Street, Broughton Estates. Careful man, they have some tight security in those rich homes."
"Thanks Germaine, you'll get paid as soon as I get to a transfer point. Talk to you later."
"A'ght." Germaine hung up.
"Let's go pay Mr. McCallister a visit." Walter sneered and Grant returned the gesture.
It took a couple of hours to reach the Broughton Estates. The van slipped into the area without a problem and made its way 234 Hickory. Grant and Walter parked outside the home and crept up the front lawn under cover of darkness. They crawled along the outside of the house and over to the front door Grant stood crouched next to the front door, while Walter crouched under the large bay window in the front. He motioned to Grant and then stood up and smashed the window with his assault rifle as Grant bashed open the door.
Devin McCallister leapt to his feet and stared at the massive troll now crawling through his bay window and the dwarf that had kicked open his front door. He put his hands high in the air.
"Put your hands down, we want to know where Marone is!" Walter screamed at him as he brought the rifle to bear on Devin's head.
"I d-d-don't know where h-he is." Devin stammered as he peered down the Ingram Valiant.
Walter peered down at a picture of Devin's family sitting on the coffee table.
"Grant, go find one of the kids."
"No, don't I don't know where Greg is. He's not here, I don't know where he went."
Grant ignored him and went up the stairs. He returned with Devin's son in tow.
"Dad what's going on? Who are these people?"
"I don't know, everything is going to be alright. Just stay calm." Devin's son began to tremble in Grant's arms.
"Now Mr. McCallister, if you don't tell me what I want to hear, I'm going to shoot your son. Now where is Greg Marone?"
"I keep telling you I don't know, just don't hurt my son. I don't know anything."
Walter shook his head drew out a small Baretta and pointed it at Devin's son.
"No, please don't hurt him, he's just a boy, shoot me, just don't hurt my son, I don't know where Greg is." Devin fell to his knees and tears began to form in the corners of his eyes.
Walter lowered the Baretta.
"Well its obvious you don't know where he is, but he still shot me in the leg so I owe him one." He fired the gun. Devin's son fell to the ground in a scream of pain as he gripped his leg. Devin yelled with rage and leapt at Walter. Walter hit him across the head with the butt of the gun and sent him flying across the room and into the wall. He lay there unconscious, his son weeping next to him on the ground. Sirens could be heard in the background.
"Time to go Grant, the Star will be here soon."
Chapter 8:
"Oh no Devin, I'm so sorry, is he going to be alright. Okay. He's at the St. Mary Hospital. Yes I'll tell Greg, we'll be there as soon as possible." Phyllis hung up the phone and turned to Greg who had just gotten out of the bathroom.
"Greg, that was Devin on the phone, those hit men went to his house looking for you and they shot his son in the leg. He's at the hospital now and wants us to get there as soon as we can."
Greg stood there stunned. His face began to turn red.
"Lets go, but I want to stop back at my place for a quick second."
Phyllis drove toward Greg's apartment and Greg sat in silence. He reloaded his pistols and set two new clips on his holster. He didn't speak a word at all. Greg's face had never looked so red. Phyllis had never seen him so angry. She too remained quiet. When they arrived at his apartment, the van was gone but to be safe Phyllis went up to the apartment alone and retrieved Greg's coat, hat, cleaning kit and some extra creds he had stashed away. When she returned to the car, Greg immediately began to clean the guns as she drove to the hospital.
Ted was lying in a hospital bed with his leg held up in a sling. It was bandaged from the kneed to the bottom of his ankle. He was asleep and breathing comfortably. Devin and Janice were sitting in chairs in the room. Janice was visibly shaken but she had stopped crying. Devin was sitting with his eyes closed. Greg and Phyllis knocked lightly on the door before entering. Janice looked up and hugged Phyllis when they entered. Devin merely opened up his eyes and stared at Greg. Greg looked back at him and lowered his head. Devin got up and put his hand on Greg's shoulder.
"Greg, we need to talk. I don't blame you for this, you know that."
"I know Devin, but if it wasn't for me, they wouldn't have come looking for you. I will find these bounty hunters and I will kill them."
"Greg, you didn't kill those Yakuza, those bounty hunters are after whoever did, not you."
"I want to take them out and I want you to find them for me. I don't enjoy looking over my shoulder and I want them to suffer for what they did to Ted."
"Listen Greg, I can find them for you, but I want to be there to kill them myself."
"No Devin I can't let you do that. This is my fight not yours."
"Look over there Greg, that is my son, this became my fight when they entered my home and shot my son." Devin's voice was stressed and incredibly angry. His eyes were bloodshot and his face was red with anger and hatred.
"Fine Devin, but I enter first and you stay close behind me. You will also wear an armored vest. Do you understand me?"
"Yes, let's go back to my house and I'll pool my contacts and see what I can find. What were their names again?"
"Walter and Grant. Walter was the troll and Grant was the dwarf."
"Alright, lets get going. Phyllis can you drive Janice home?"
"Sure, we'll stay till visiting hours are over and then I'll take her home."
"Devin, what are you going to do?" Janice's voice was soft and strained.
"We're going to find them. Now don't worry, you stay here and I'll see you back at the house." Devin said as he held his wife close to him and kissed her forehead.
Devin went over to Ted and kissed him before he left with Greg. The drive back to Devin's house was fast in the late night of Seattle. When they got back to the house, Devin immediately began making phone calls. Greg began to clean up some of the glass and other debris spread around the floor.
After cleaning up, Greg sat down in front of the vid screen and turned it on. An hour went by and Devin still had his ear to the phone. Greg continued to watch the screen, his mind preoccupied with how he was going to pull this off without getting Devin killed. The image on the vid screen snapped Greg back into reality.
"This is Marian Sellers reporting from outside an unnamed bar in the old downtown sector of Seattle. Just a few hours ago, a lone gunman walked into this bar and opened fire killing two patrons. The victims were identified as Walter Riley and Grant Wallace. This would appear to be the work of the same gunmen that killed six people in the Fen Ghi restaurant just this past week. Who is this strange person and why does he seem so untouchable? If you have any information as to the whereabouts of a man in a long black trench coat a large brim hat and armed with two Ares Predator pistols, please contact the Star. This is Marian Sellers signing off."
"Devin, you can stop making phone calls."
Devin stopped and looked at him. "Why?"
Greg pointed to the screen. "I think someone beat us to it."
Chapter 9:
"Mr. Wen, two bounty hunters were found dead in a bar on the other side of town. They say someone who looked like Greg Marone came in and killed them in the middle of everyone." Li's voice was calm and collected as always.
"Hmmm, it would appear that Mr. Marone is a tougher fish to catch than I thought. Raise the bounty to three million, he will pay for making a fool of the Yakuza and for killing my partners." Mr. Wen was seated in his chair reading some documents on a shipment of monofilament whips coming in from Japan.
"Yes Mr. Wen. Oh, I almost forgot a Mr. Yeun is here to see you."
"Send him in, and then lock the door behind you."
"Yes Mr. Wen." Li bowed and opened the door for Yeun, then bowed once more and locked the door behind him.
Wen didn't look up from his papers. He tapped one of the earpieces on his glasses against his face. Yeun stood in silence. Finally, Wen looked up at him.
"Have you been busy lately Mr. Yeun?"
"In what are you referring?"
"Don't frag with me! I know you were the one that killed those bounty hunters."
"I did, and what problem is that of yours? I want the reward money as much as the next person and I'm sure you can understand that."
Wen's eyes became narrow slits as he stared deep into the man in front of him. Yeun stared back at him without a word. Wen started to smile a sly smile and eased back into his chair and spun around to face the Seattle skyline as he peered into the night.
"Okay Mr. Yeun, continue with your hunt. Just remember who you work for."
"He works for me, Wen." Wen-Sung stood in the doorway of Wen's office. He was flanked by a troll wearing a black long coat and shades and Li holding the key to the door. Wen's chair turned around, his eyes suddenly taking in the scene.
"What is this brother? Some kind of family meeting?" Wen stammered out nervously.
"No I'm sorry, Wen this is a hostile takeover. Nothing personal, just business." Wen-Sung smiled.
Wen's hand slipped underneath his desk and pushed the alarm button underneath. Nothing happened.
"Looking for this?" Li spoke with extreme sarcasm as he held up the pair of wires.
Wen's eyes widened.
"So that's it, you're going to kill me and take over just like that?"
"Not exactly. There is a reason Mr. Yeun is called the mimic. He will replace you and continue to run this part of the Yakuza Empire. He will be my second in command and someone I can trust so much more than you. Show him Mr. Yeun." Wen-Sung gestured to Yeun. Yeun took off his hat to reveal freshly cut hair in the exact color of Wen's. He removed his jacket and was wearing a suit much like Yeun's.
"You think you can change some clothes and that's it. He doesn't look anything like me."
"Give him a minute. I always enjoy this part."
Yeun began to press parts of his face and rotate others as he looked intently at Wen. Slowly, the little servos built into his body under his skin and muscles began to form into Wen's face. Yeun's face soon molded into an almost exact replica of Wen's. Wen began to tremble.
"Amazing isn't it. Now Mr. Yeun, if you could so kindly finish the job you were hired to do, we can get on our way."
Yeun tapped and massaged a section of his neck before answering.
"Yes Mr. Wen-Sung." The voice was Wen's.
Yeun pulled out a pistol and completed the take over process with a single shot and a spot clean of his new office. After Wen-Sung had left, Yeun sat down in his new chair and started to smoke one of Wen's cigars.
Chapter 10:
"Find anything Devin?" Greg inquired.
Devin rubbed his temples and leaned back in his chair. The glow of the computer screen illuminated his strained face.
"Nothing yet, there are some references to a hit-man known as "The Mimic" but no one seems to know much else about him. I'll keep at it."
"No, Devin, get some sleep. I'll go do some of my own investigating. "The Mimic" you say, I think I might have someone that can help. I'll be back in a couple of hours." Greg nodded to Devin, threw on his coat and dashed out the door.
Josh Crosby sat on a stool in a small room in the back of his garage. He was staring through a magnifying glass at a fishing hook being suspended by a clamp. Crosby was deftly winding some thread around a piece of feather attaching it to the hook.
"Excuse me Josh?" It was Samantha, his wife of three years, from behind him.
Josh spun around in his stool and stared at her. Her long black hair was stringy and wet. She was wearing her red velvet bathrobe and was drying her hair with a towel. She smiled wryly at him.
"Yes miss, can I help you?"
"I think you can." She sat down in his lap and kissed him.
"I'm sorry I can't do this, I'm married and my wife could get home any minute." He smiled at her.
"Well then, I'm sorry." She abruptly stood up and started to walk away.
Josh shook his head grabbed her arm and dragged her back to his lap. She laughed as he held her in his arms and kissed her neck. There was a buzz at the door.
"Josh, there's someone at the door."
"No there isn't."
The buzz sounded again.
"Josh, get the door, it might be work."
Josh slumped his head down and eased Samantha off his lap.
"Don't go anywhere, I'm going to go shoot whoever it is and I'll be right back." He joked.
"Can you do that?" she smiled back at him.
"Of course I can, I work for the Star."
There was another buzz at the door.
"I'm coming, I'm coming, hold on." Josh yelled back.
He swung the door open. Greg was standing in the doorway, the Seattle rain dripping form his hat.
"Mind if I come in Josh?" He asked.
"Sure, Greg. Come on in." Josh's voice was a little uneasy.
"Thanks." Greg stepped inside and removed his hat.
"Who is it Josh?" The voice was coming from their bedroom down the hall.
"Its Greg, Samantha."
Samantha appeared from the hallway with some clothes on and her hair still stringy from the shower.
"Hi, Greg." She looked at him a bit nervously.
Greg nodded back at her.
"Josh, I have a favor to ask of you. I need you to help find who is framing me."
Josh's eyebrow perked up at the last statement.
"Framing you?" he inquired.
"Yes Josh, I've had nothing to do with any of these killings and now I have bounty hunters attacking me and my employer. I have a possible lead, but I need some help."
"Okay, what have you got?" Josh asked as he motioned for Greg to take a seat at a table in the kitchen.
Greg hung up his jacket and hat in the foyer before sitting down in the kitchen. Josh started to make coffee as Samantha sat down.
"I don't know who has been doing these killings, but I do have a possible lead. There is this guy, who calls himself "The Mimic". I thought maybe he might be the one. He is a professional hit man. Do you know anything about him?"
Josh sat down and handed a cup of coffee to Samantha and Greg.
"Let me think. I do remember a case about a guy who took on the form of someone's brother and then killed the man while at a theatre down town. The man then escaped without a trace. The target was some big union promoter. Let me go get my laptop."
Josh got up and walked over to a desk in the other room and returned with his laptop in tow. He sat it down on the table and plugged it into the wall connection. He began to tap away at the keys. Within a few minutes he looked up from the computer.
"Here, this is the file we have on "the Mimic". It says that he is believed to be an Asian assassin trained in the martial arts and use of numerous ballistic weapons. He kills for money and no one knows what he really looks like. There are no known pictures."
"How could this guy be anyone?" Greg was staring into his coffee.
"That's not that hard actually." This time the voice was Samantha's who had been sitting by quietly. "With all of the cyber-ware and technology out there, all it would take is some kind of under the skin servos to mold his face. Then a voice modulator of some sorts. The only thing, is that they could be really dangerous and fragile."
"I had thought it would have been more along the lines of bio-ware, more expensive, but definitely less dangerous." Josh said.
"Could be bio-ware, but something like that would be almost too expensive." Samantha stated as she sipped her coffee. "Besides, I don't think there is any bio-ware that could change like that."
"So we have some majorly cybered out maniac with a passion for killing and apparently he is good at it." Greg said this with a monotone voice as he finished his coffee.
Josh and Samantha looked at him.
"Well, thank you Josh, Samantha, I have to get going. I have a Chameleon to kill." Greg nodded to them both and walked toward the door.
"Just be careful Greg, you can't kill a Chameleon by just ripping off its tail. You have to go for the head." Josh spoke with severity in his voice.
"Thanks Josh." Greg nodded to him once more and disappeared down the hall and into the night once more.
Chapter 11:
"So explain to me again how this works. The guy has servos and cyber-ware under his face that allows him to change how he looks?" A spark flashed across Phyllis' face as she bent over a device on her desk.
"Yep, any idea how I can find the guy?" Greg asked as he slumped down in Phyllis' couch.
"Nope, I have no idea how to find him, but I think I have something that can mess him up pretty good. Hold on a minute."
She walked out of the room and Greg could hear her sifting through a closet. She returned with a couple of devices in her hand. She held them up for Greg to see.
"This is an EMP grenade and this is a tazer. I can wire this tazer with the EMP components in the grenade. If you can get close enough to the guy you can fry some of his circuitry. I'll rig it up, but I'm telling you now, you have to make contact with his face if you want this to do anything."
"Sounds good. Thanks."
She looked at him and raised an eyebrow.
"Something has you spooked, what's wrong?" She inquired.
"I'm still thinking about Devin and his family. How Devin was so willing to risk life and limb for his kid. I guess I'm a little jealous. My dad would have done anything to save his own life even sacrifice my mother or me. I don't know, I don't know anymore why I do this. Why do I keep up this lifestyle? I hide behind this persona of a protector, but I often doubt I'm any better than the people I go after." He rubbed his chin, the stubble scratched at his fingers.
"Greg, I've know you for the past three years, you are a good man, you may be a bit excessive at times, but you have come along way. I have seen you go from bloodthirsty killer to, well the person sitting in front of me." Greg nodded.
Phyllis reached up and kissed him on the cheek. He looked at her puzzled.
"And what was that for?" he inquired.
"For good luck." She winked back.
"Thanks Phyllis, I have to go meet a friend of mine, I'll come by later for the tazer. Bye.
Greg tossed on his coat and walked outside. On the curb a street magician was sitting and rolling some rat bones into a wooden bowl.
"I can help you find who you are looking for." The voice was raspy and somewhat nasally, but audible in the Seattle night. Greg paused and looked down at the magician.
"What?"
"I said, I can help you find who you are looking for." The man repeated while still staring down at the rat bones in his bowl.
Greg bent down and looked at the man.
"How?"
The man's hand shot out and gripped Greg's wrist. Greg felt a surge of energy and watched as the man's eyes rolled back and he began to utter some strange words. Greg struggled to free himself but the grip was too strong. He was about to upholster his pistol when the man let go and Greg fell back onto the pavement. Greg heard the sound of bones rattling in the bowl and when he had righted himself he was face to face with the street shaman.
"The man you seek resides in a tower of glass and is not whom he appears to be." The man smiled an almost completely toothless grin and then picked up the rat bones and proceeded to roll them over in his hands. Greg looked at the man and transferred some credits to his cred stick, which was hung around the shaman's neck.
"Thank you old man."
Chapter 12:
The decker's hands flew across the keyboard like a bird on the wind. Her movements were almost musical as she deftly tapped the keys in a fury of fingers and nails. Greg watched her in amazement.
"You think you could speed things up a bit Lil?" He remarked jokingly.
She continued to tap away at the keys. After a few more minutes she slowed down and then her eyes opened and smiled at Greg.
"Piece of cake." She winked at him.
"Oh really, well then what did you find out on our good friends the Yakuza?"
"Well they have a new group of leaders since you put the last drek head in the can. Two of them were brothers and the other four were either cousins or associates. Those four were the ones that got waxed the other day by your copycat. The other two are a Wen and Wen-Sung. Wen is the one who has put the price on your head and Wen-Sung is his older brother. Wen is in charge of the Yakuza in Seattle and Wen-Sung has disappeared, presumably back to Japan, in his multimillion dollar yacht, no doubt. Does that help?"
"Lil, you're amazing."
"Tell me something I don't know. Oh, I almost forgot, here is a run down of Wen and his brother, you know a mini bio of each and the like so anything else I can get you?" She asked as she handed him a data chip.
"No thanks, here's the two hundred creds you wanted and an extra fifty for prompt service."
"I aim to please." She winked at him.
"I've got to get going Lil, take care and stay out of trouble."
"Oh you know me, I always stay out of trouble. I have to get some sleep though; I have this run in the morning. I'm doing some corp job with two gun-toting nuts and some weird tiger shaman. It'll be a cinch. Come back if you need anything." She smiled at him and he smiled back.
Greg returned to Phyllis' apartment and knocked at the door. Phyllis answered the door. She was wearing a short red dress and had the lights out in the apartment. Greg looked at her with wide eyes and checked the apartment number again. Yeah he had the right one.
"Excuse me miss, but where is Phyllis?" He smirked.
She eyed him with false anger.
"Get in here you big idiot." She grabbed him by the arm and pulled him inside.
On the table, candles and a pair of place settings replaced wires and parts. Phyllis helped remove Greg's coat.
"So what is all this?" he asked, turning a bit red.
"This is my way of saying thank you for coming to my rescue and for being such a good customer. I hope you like seafood, I've made us some Mahi-mahi."
"Wow, I must pay you well." He smiled.
They sat down to eat and enjoyed a wonderful meal and conversation. While they sipped at glasses of wine, Phyllis got up from the table and came over to Greg. She bent down and kissed him. When she lent in to kiss him on the mouth, Greg moved away.
"Um, Phyllis, I don't think this is such a good idea."
"Why, what's wrong?"
"I'm not the kind of guy you want to get involved with, I've nearly gotten you killed once already."
"I don't care about that, I'm the one who has chosen the risk, not you."
"I'm sorry, I have to be going." Greg stood up from the table. Phyllis put her hand on his arm and looked up at him.
"Please Greg, don't go. Can we at least talk about this?"
"I'm sorry Phyllis I have something I need to do tomorrow. I have to get some sleep. Thank you for dinner, it was wonderful." He kissed her on the forehead, retrieved his coat and the tazer and walked out the door. After he left, Phyllis slumped down into her easy chair and looked at the table.
"Drek."
Chapter 13:
Yeun drew in a deep breath of smoke on the cigar held firmly between his teeth.
"Ahhhh this is the life, this is how it is supposed to be." He adjusted his tie in the reflection of the glass window in his newly acquired office. The phone in the other room rang, and the assistant's voice came over the intercom.
"Mr. Wen, its your brother on line one."
"Thank you, deary."
He picked up the phone and sat back down in his chair. He let himself sink into the leather before he answered.
"Hello, brother and how does this day find you?"
"Hello, Wen, I'm doing well thank you, and how is business on your end."
"Fine, can you hold on a minute, I have a call on the other line." Yeun flicked a switch on his phone.
"Okay, Wen-Sung, the line is secure we can talk at our leisure, what is it that you desire of me now?"
"Mr. Yeun, I will be arriving in Seattle in a couple of days. I want you to have that last shipment of cyber-eyes ready for me when I arrive. How are you adjusting to your new life?"
"Quite well actually." Returned Yeun as he toked on his cigar. "Quite well indeed."
"Excellent, Mr. Yeun. I'll have the rest of your payment when I arrive. I'll see you in two days."
"Good day, brother."
"Good day, Mr. Yeun."
Yeun hung up and spun his chair around to stare out into the night's sky.
"Excuse me, Mr. Wen. There is a Mr. Edward Valentine to see you."
"Valentine, could be one of Wen's old friends, better play this well." He thought in his head.
"Fine, show him in please." He spoke back into the intercom on his desk.
"Yes sir."
There was a shuffling outside the door and then it opened at closed. Yeun didn't turn around.
"What can I do for you Mr. Valentine?" He asked as he spun around. When he had come around full circle he was face to face with a pair of Ares Preds and a young gentlemen in a gray suit and pants. Yeun's eyes twitched a bit, but other than that he showed no fear.
"Good evening Mr. Wen. I'm Gregory Marone, I hear that you have been looking for me. Well I've come to collect on that bounty."
"It would appear that you think you are invincible Mr. Marone, it takes a great deal of bravery or stupidity to walk into the lion's den. So have you come to finish off another Yakuza member?"
"No, actually I've come to explain to you that there is someone out there that is using my image to kill Yakuza and attempting to frame me."
"Why should I believe that pile of drek?"
"Simple, you're not dead are you?"
"No."
"Well, if I wanted you dead don't you think that I would have killed you by now."
"That doesn't prove anything."
"Fine, how about I give you a gun?" Greg pulled a Berretta from his coat pocket and threw it to Yeun. He caught it deftly.
"Very foolish of you to give me a weapon."
"Not as foolish as you catching it in your left hand." Greg smiled at the man.
"What?"
"You forget Mr. Wen, you are right handed. Oh, I'm sorry, you probably prefer The Mimic." Greg brought his Preds to bear on the man. Yeun's eyes went wide. He pushed a silent alarm under the desk as he ducked beneath it. Bullets tore into the leather chair throwing dust and feathers everywhere. Yeun pulled his own gun and fired over his desk blindly. Greg had already moved behind the bookshelf and was reloading his gun. He heard movement outside in the hallway.
"It would appear to be a draw this time. I'll have to catch you next time." Yelled Greg. He pulled out from behind the side of the bookcase throwing round after round into the desk. His other Pred found the side office door and Greg dove into it as Yeun fired past him. Greg found the fire ladder and scurried up to the roof. Just as he was about to close the hatch he dropped a small fragmentation grenade into the room. The blast set off the fire alarm and shattered the window. Greg ran to the chopper waiting for him on the roof. An orc was flipping switches and starting to lift off. He waved Greg on. Just as Greg was nearing the chopper a pair of guards came out of a side door on top of the roof. The orc swung the chopper around and let loose a burst of cannon fire from his nose gun. The guards scrambled for cover. Greg leapt into the side of the slowly ascending aircraft.
"Excuse me sir, please buckle your safety belts, put your trays into the upright position and please observe the no smoking sign." The orc joked as he laid down another burst of cannon fire to keep the guards heads down. He pulled away from the roof as quickly as possible.
"Thanks for the lift. Will there be a meal served on this flight?" Greg inquired.
"Here." The orc handed Greg a half a sand which.
"Thanks."
"Any luck down there, little buddy?"
"Some."
"Some, you blew up the side of the building for some?" he asked barely raising his voice.
"Well, you know, things happen."
"Phyllis and Devon were right, you are a bit excessive.
Greg smiled.
Chapter 14:
"He knows, don't you understand, he knows that I'm not Wen and he is certain to go to the press or something. We have to get out of Seattle, we can stage Wen's death and leave the body to be found. We can frame Marone one last time." Yeun's voice was a bit frantic as spoke into the phone and wiped sweat coming off his brow.
"Relax, Mr. Yeun, I will handle this. I'll be there tomorrow morning, I'm leaving earlier to deal with this new menace. Just relax and stay in your office. Keep up appearances...Mr. Wen." Replied Wen-Sung's rather soothing voice.
"Yes, sir, em, brother."
"Good, I'll be at Pier 13 at 7:00pm tomorrow. Meet me there at 8:00. Good bye."
"Good bye."
Yeun hung up the phone and sat down in his bullet-ridden chair. He shuffled through the box of cigars on his desk. All but two had been destroyed. He lit one and slowly inhaled the smoke allowing it to take him to some place far away.
"We got him." Said Phyllis slyly.
"Thanks for the bug, I thought it might come in handy." Replied Greg.
"No problem, now what are you going to do?"
"I'm going to go pay a visit to Mr. Wen-Sung tomorrow night and raise a little hell."
"You're not going alone are you? You're going to get help right?"
"Yeah, don't worry, I learned the last time. Devon is setting up a meeting with this Shark Shaman. I think his name is Sirius or something. I guess he is supposed to be real good and real tough."
"I've heard of him, I hope your not planning on a stealthy entrance?"
"Why?"
"Sirius is a troll."
"Hmmmmm, this may prove more interesting than I thought. I guess we might have to try a more forward approach."
"You're going to get yourself killed." Phyllis was starting to bite her bottom lip.
"I'll be fine, I've always come out on top and I'll finally get rid of the Yakuza's major influence in Seattle."
"Not to mention make yourself one of the most marked men in all the city."
"Relax, I'll get through this okay. If I need to I can always make a deal."
"Whatever you say." She turned from him and started rewinding the tape she had made of Yeun and Wen-Sung.
The phone rang. Phyllis answered it and then handed it to Greg.
"Hey Greg its Devon. Sirius is here and wants to meet you can you come over in a couple of minutes?"
"Yeah, I'll be there in a few minutes."
He hung up and left. It didn't take long to get to Devon's. When he arrived he was introduced to Sirius. He was massive and had a very strong look about him. Sirius was carrying a long wooden staff; at the top was a group of shark teeth making the staff into more of a deadly mace. Sirius's hair was a dark and long gray color. His coat was made of sharkskin and made a strange ruffling sound as he walked. When Greg shook the Shaman's hand, he could feel a strange sense of power.
"It is a pleasure to meet you Sirius. Has Devon explained to you the situation?"
"He has. I will assist you in anyway that I can." The response was calculated and sharp. His voice was stern and confident.
"Excellent, then meet me at Pier 13 at 6:30pm tomorrow. We'll scope out the area and watch the boat arrive. Once we have the ship then we will simply wait till The Mimic arrives and seize him or kill him, whatever happens. Sound alright with you."
"Yes, I have no qualms with killing."
"Um, good, because you may get quite a few chances."
"Fine, then I will see you tomorrow night."
"Good." Greg replied, shook the Shaman's hand once again and left.
Chapter 15
Greg pulled up a corner of the collar on his long coat to cover his neck better. He looked at his watch, 6:28.
"Where is that Shaman?" He thought to himself.
He heard a small splash behind him and turned around to see the Shaman coming up out of the water. The man shook a bit and then walked over to Greg. Greg was looking at him in amazement. The night air was cold and nipped at him. He couldn't imagine what would motivate the Shaman to jump into the icy water.
"Going for a quick swim?"
"I like to before I have to work. It tightens up my coat and makes it a bit more bullet proof. It also brings me closer to the sea god Kanun. He will protect me when in battle."
"I hope so my friend, I hope so." Greg smiled at the troll as he smiled back.
They scanned the pier and waited for the yacht to arrive. It was on time, just as Greg knew it would be. He counted the men on the top of the ship. Four guards on top, who knows how many down below.
"Man, what is it with me and yachts, at least last time I didn't have to go on." Greg spoke out loud to himself.
"Excuse me?" asked Sirius.
"Never mind. Any chance you can find out how many guards are inside?"
"I can project, but Wen-Sung might be watching if he is a mage."
"Give it a shot, just be careful."
Sirius nodded and then sat down cross-legged. Greg peered over the water tanks they were hiding behind. After a minute or two Sirius came back and looked up at Greg.
"Sorry, there are some guardian spirits, two of them. They'll alert Wen-Sung if I get too close."
"That's fine, lets take out the four on top and the rest will come to us, no doubt."
Greg loaded his weapons and made sure he had the tazer with him. He nodded to Sirius, who rose to his feet and the two of them walked quickly up to the ramp of the ship.
"Hey you two down there, what do you want?" One of the guards asked as they approached.
His answer was a hail of gunfire that sent his limp body into the sea. The two more guards went over in a burst of lightning from Sirius's palms. Greg capped the last one in the knees and sent him down a ladder, hard. He didn't get up. Two more came out of a cabin as Greg reached the top of the ramp. Sirius blasted one of them into a wall. Greg was pinned down by a fury of bullets from the other guard. The guard was hidden around a corner of the drive house and Greg's shots all went wide. There was a click and Greg's Preds were empty. The guard started to peek around the corner. A staff of shark teeth met his face and there was an audible crack as his nose and neck snapped. The manss arms went limp at his sides and the only thing keeping him up was the staff. He hung there for a moment and then with a snap of the wrist Sirius flung the man off the boat.
"Lets get below."
"Thanks Sirius, I owe you."
"My pleasure." The slightly bloody shaman smiled.
They crept through the ship. They checked every compartment before preparing to move downstairs. They made their way to the steps.
"What do you want to do?" Whispered Greg.
Sirius motioned to the one guard next to the ladder. He walked over and picked up the unconscious man and broke his neck. He threw the dead body down the stairs into the main cabin below. There was a small burst of fire and then it ceased.
"If you don't want to end up like him and the other five you'll listen to us and make a deal." Sirius' voice could cut through titanium.
The response came after only a few seconds. First a gun was thrown out onto the steps and then an Asian gentlemen walked out with his hands up, followed by an elderly Asian man. Greg motioned for them to sit down in the driver's chairs and to keep there hands on the table.
"Alright Mr. Wen-Sung. I understand your little game and that's why we are going to make a deal. When The Mimic arrives you will have him come in and then we will spring our little trap and he will be ours. In exchange we won't kill you and you can return to Japan in one piece." Greg looked at his watch. "He will be here shortly. Do we have a deal Mr. Wen-Sung?"
"Fine, Mr. Marone, you have a deal." The elderly man reluctantly replied.
"Wonderful, now lets clean up this boat of yours a bit and then await our guest."
Chapter 16:
"Here he comes Sirius. The black sedan has to be his. I can make out a drive but I don't know if there are any escorts other than that. What do you suggest?"
"I'll stay in the water and come up from behind. Just do what you can to keep him on the boat." Sirius nodded to Greg and slipped down a ladder in the back of the boat and disappeared under the water.
Greg walked back to the cabin and stuck the gun in Chen's back.
"Okay, Mr. Chen I want you to go out and greet our friend and have him come downstairs." Chen nodded in agreement and understanding. He began to walk upstairs. Greg peered out of a porthole at the approaching car. The car stopped. Greg could hear Wen-Sung breathing behind him, his hands bound behind him to the chair. The door of the Sedan opened and an elderly man walked out of the back seat flanked by two guards. Greg's eyes went wide and he spun around just in time to get a fist to the face. His Pred's flew from his hands and fell into some corner of the room. The hit sent him into the wall. He dodged the next punch and returned with a punch to the chest that sent his attacker backward. He was know face to face with himself. The ropes around the man's hands were loose and severed.
"Nice to meet you Mr. Marone, especially face-to-face. You must have thought I was pretty stupid to think you could bug my office without me knowing. Well now this time you are going to die." Yeun's voice was Greg's and its sound rattled Greg's nerves.
Yeun charged at Greg and kicked him in the chest. Greg hit the wall and slid down a bit before Yeun picked him up and head butted him in the face. Greg fell to the floor and blood began to pour from his nose and mouth. He spat.
"Get up and fight me. Not too strong without your guns are you?" Yeun's voice mocked him.
Greg looked up and received another kick, this time in the face. A tooth flew across the room along with a stream of blood. Greg lay on the floor bleeding from his mouth and nose. He moved and felt the tazer in his pocket.
"Phyllis." He rasped.
"What, what did you say? Talking about someone you're never going to see again?"
"No, someone I'm going to have to buy dinner for." Greg stood up shaking and stared at Yeun. He spat at him and a goblet of blood hit Yeun's face and rolled down the cheek.
Yeun became enraged and ran at Greg. Greg stood firm until the last minute and then he ducked and rolled catching Yeun's legs and sending him to the ground. Greg rolled back onto Yeun and jammed the tazer into Yeun's neck. He shook violently and Greg could hear the servos switching and twitching. After a few minutes Yeun stopped moving. Greg rolled him over on his back. Yeun's face was a mess of twisted cheeks and jaw. His one eye was sloped downward and a small smoldering hole was just underneath his nose. The mouth was permanently fused in a half smile and half scream. Greg sat up and retrieved his pistols. He crept his way to the upper deck and met with a small applause. Seated in a deck chair and with a drink in hand was Wen-Sung. A guard and Chen were pointing guns at Greg.
"Well done Mr. Marone. I must say you are a splendid fighter. Now you have made it possible for me to completely take over the Yakuza. I owe you a debt of thanks." Wen-Sung folded his hands in his lap.
"Now why don't you come along with us and we'll see what you know and then we'll dispose of you quickly." He said matter of factly as he put down his drink and stood up.
Greg dropped his guns on the ground and stood there stunned a bit. A drop of water struck him on the forehead, then another and another. He looked up slowly. His neck stiff and swelling from fighting with Yeun. Wen-Sung and his two bodyguards followed Greg's gaze. There was a flash of light and the two guards were thrown overboard. Greg looked up in time to see Sirius' eyes roll back forward in his head. He was dripping wet and a smile came across his face. Greg retrieved his Preds.
"Now Mr. Wen-Sung, I do believe this is where you give up." Greg was staring at the man's eyes, his own beginning to cloud a bit from some blood running down his forehead. There was a click from behind and Greg dove to the side as a small burst of bullets flew past him and struck Wen-Sung in the chest sending him to the deck. Then there was one single shot and when the dust had cleared Yeun was laying a pool of his own blood, a bullet hole in his head and his face in that horrible grimace.
Chapter 17:
Greg jerked his hand away from the hot pan on his oven. He rooted around for a dishtowel to grab it with and lifted it carefully over to the large pot he had waiting on the other range. Phyllis giggled from behind him. He she was admiring the candles at the table and a bouquet of flowers that he brought along with all the ingredients for dinner.
"Oh shoot, that stings. I've got to practice more." Greg exclaimed as he burned his hand for the third time this evening.
"You know for someone who has been thrown across a room and has been shot at countless times, you really are in more danger in this kitchen than out there." Phyllis smirked as she sipped her wine.
"Ha, ha, very funny."
"So how is Devon's son doing?" She asked.
"He's fine, he is back home and in good shape." Greg replied as he stirred the mysterious creation in the pot on the stove.
"Are you sure you don't need any help?"
"No, I'm fine, just relax, why don't you put some music on?" He motioned to the music player with a wooden spoon.
After a few more minutes Greg seemed to be wrapping up his meal and he dished out the stew into three bowls.
"Three bowls, are you expecting company?" Asked Phyllis.
"Nope, this one is actually going to be a special delivery, if you'll excuse me for a few minutes." Greg took the bowl and some bread and went down the stairs. Outside he found the Street Shaman rolling bones in his bowl. Greg bent down next to him and placed the food in front of him.
"Here you are my friend. Any more advice you can give will be greatly appreciated." Greg said to the Shaman.
The man looked at him and placed his hand on Greg's forehead. After a few seconds the man released his grip on Greg's head and threw the bones into his bowl.
"Hmmmm, my advice is this. Hold on to her, she's quite the looker." The man winked at Greg and smiled his signature grin. Greg smiled back at him.
