20
Nov
14

Seattle Mission 23: Every Man’s Devil – Part 3

SEATTLE MISSION 23: EVERY MAN’S DEVIL – PART 3
Written by: Bear           Played on: 01 Mar 2014
PREVIOUS: Mission 23: Every Man’s Devil – Part 2
NEXT: Mission 23: Every Man’s Devil – Part 4

“What about you my silent, brooding friend?” Mr Johnson’s eyes stare right through me, I’m not sure what it is, not magic, I would sense it. This man is trust worthy, his clear shining eyes locked on mine.

I hesitated. I’ve been so fueled by hatred and vengeance; I’ve accepted that there is no future in that. My death is unavoidable, however long the spirits have deemed to prolong it. What future do I have?

“I. These people. My friends. My family. They are my future. Maybe, one day I will rejoin with those I have lost, but not until I’m sure that this family of mine is safe, and I can one day be free again.”

All the while the old man grinned, his face slightly creased. He must be older than he looks, but there’s no real way to know.

“It is good to hear that even in the hearts of those deemed the lost shadows of the city; beats the dreams of better days. It is dreams that determine the quality of your life.” Mr. Johnson proclaimed

“Ladno…” breathed out Chekhov.

“Ladno deystvitel’no moy drug,” the man responded.

Marius then got up on his soapbox, “To be honest, I wouldn’t want to stop at running security. If I could have it my way, I’d bring the mega-corps down a peg-or-two, loosen their stranglehold they have on the people of this planet. Maybe, just maybe there could be a better future than, what there is now…”

With a nod, Chekhov turns to Mr. Johnson, “You keep talking about change, vut change do you vant?”

“Me? I just want to make the world better, I’d like to see the balance restored.”

The conversation continued like this for about an hour. That is, until Wheeler broke in, “Uh, guys. Hate to interrupt, but I think we’ve got company.”

With that we all turned around to see two large vans like ours and several motorcycles, tactically fanned-out and gaining on us. They are rocking the same bright green and black of the Ancients, a primarily elf gang known for their presence along the West coast. Without hesitation, we prepared to take these bastards down. Today was not a good day to die; too bad they didn’t know that.

The attacking crew was likely expecting the small arms fire we used back in Seattle. Jade kicked open the back doors of the van unleashing full-auto fire into our pursuers. At the same time, Cho and Marius arm themselves with grenade launchers, lean out the windows and unload hell. The first volley of blasts wreath both vans in flames, but they continue following. One of the cycles tries to pass, but Wheeler cuts him off, activating the exterior security, the shock seizes-up the driver, sending him and his rider tumbling in the street, they would’ve been fine but their allies did not adjust their course and with a slight bump, the two men were stains.

Another cycle pulled right past me, I could see his eyes dimmly through the tinted glass of his helmet, he raised a barrel, and the blood began to drum in my ears as I felt his aura, and his body turned to stone. Unfortunately, his rider didn’t notice until they met with a car that had been abandoned on the shoulder, shattering the driver and sending the rider soaring on fatal wings.

Wheeler, regularly calm behind the could be heard muttering, “Shit-shit-shit-shit…” as one of the vans pulled up on our right, opposite me, and slid open its side door revealing a mounted machine gun, aimed right at us. Our van’s armor absorbs most of the full-auto fire. That was when the second van pulls along our left, its door swings open, with a soldier aiming a missile launcher center mass.

A collective, “HIT THE BREAKS!” echoes in the van, Wheeler responds. Just in time, as the rocket flies right across the windshield, leaving a streak of smoke. Taking the opportunity, Marius fires another grenade, this time inside the van with the mounted gun, his aim is true and the inside of the van fills with smoke and gunfire. It seemed like the gunner was holding down the trigger on the then un-mounted weapon. The vehicle quickly veered into a ditch where it came to a violent rest, engulfed in flames. The remaining cycles open fire on us, luckily no one is hurt, not seriously at least.

Through the gunfire Wheeler, who holds all of our lives in his hands can still be heard, “Oh-shit-oh-fuck-oh-shit-damn-balls-fuck-ass-shit-shit-shit…”

With an unwavering calmness, Mr. Johnson asked Wheeler, “I thought you’d be used to this. Isn’t this what you do?”

“Combat driving? Yes.” Wheeler slams the van into another bike, sending its riders off the road. “Fucking Rockets and heavy machine gun fire? Not so much.”

Jade distributes lead vaccinations to the passengers in the van to our left, it still follows although much less boldly. Cho follows up, launching another grenade, it hits right behind the guy who fired the rocket sending him flying into the street where he is disassembled. Fire breaks out, and it seemed like they had extra rockets in the van, as the small flames, smoke and metal were suddenly replaced with a flash and dark cloud of destruction. I get a bead on another cycle trying to pass on my side; I fired an exploding arrow directly at the handlebars. The blast sent the drivers hands up as the handles were removed from the bike, which promptly spun-out, sending the two gangers sliding along the shoulder, slamming their fists against the pavement as we sped away.

At that moment, the spirit that Chekhov had summoned earlier was released at one of the bikes. Holding the cycle, the spirit was dispelled, but not before dismounting the two gangers and trashing their ride. The last few gangers get off some lucky shots, hitting both Wheeler and myself. With a few final, well-placed shots Marius shredded the front tire of one of the cycles, sending the riders spinning down the road.

Jade’s wild full-auto fire makes an impact and gives the rest of us open shots. Cho, still using her trusted grenade launcher, blasts one of the bikes. The impact of the grenade knocked the driver off the bike right before the explosive released its full destructive force, sending both riders’ remains soaring. With one bike left, I leveled a final explosive arrow right on the fork. Claw guides me and the arrow hits its target, separating the front end from the rest of the bike. There’s no question, both men are no more; at least I saved two lives today.

With no more vehicles following we take a few moments to reload and sound off.

“We’re not done yet.” Cho said calmly raising-up her sniper rifle, “I’ve got two drones closing on our six.”

BAM!… BAM!…

“Scratch that, we’re clear.” The two drones bounce, peppering the road behind us with who knows how much nuyen.

In the silence I can hear the labored breathing of Wheeler. He said he could keep driving, so Marius moves to the back and I ride shotgun. I take a look at his wounds, its strange to see flesh where there was only recently nothing but machinery. I focus on his strange new aura and hear drums, as I feel his wounds, and hear a child laughing I begin to mend Alan’s most recent wound, a deep scratch from a bear. No. That was Keenai, my son doesn’t have to cry, not anymore. His hollow, dead eyes stare into mine. Then he screams. “What the FUCK Bear!?! I thought you were healing me?” Wheeler yelled as his splintered ribs snapped back into place and the three bullets lodged in him bored their way out. That was weird.

“That was pretty rough, but thanks. Hey, you okay buddy?” the sharp-tooth asked.

“I’m fine. Why?”

“Well you know, it’s been a stressful day, you haven’t been around lately, we never chat anymore, and then there’s those holes inside you that are staining the upholstery.”

“Wait. What?” Looking down, he was right. I could feel the warm wash of blood working its way down my left arm and chest. I remove the rounds and close the wounds and do my best to wipe off the blood. It’s truly strange just how accustomed I’ve gotten to getting shot. I wonder if that’s a good or bad thing, as I fiddle with the rounds that tried to take my life.

“Well, that was exciting.” Mr. Johnson said after we were all healed and reloaded.

From there, we continued into the night and the wilds of the Salish-Sidhe, Mr. Johnson striking-up conversations regarding our respective lives, ambitions, and opinions on the world all the while. Eventually Wheeler slowed, as we rounded a bend. By that point we were deep inside the Winache National Forest. We arrived at the overlook where an impressive helicopter waited, suited, rifle wielding guards patrolled the area.

“Ah, we’ve arrived. These are my men. Thank you very much for the pleasant ride, and stimulating conversation. It has been wonderful to get to know each one of you. Will you please escort me to the helicopter?” Although he started pleasant, his tone shifted as he requested this of us. It felt more like an order.

“I’m fine here.” Wheeler responds, sticking to the driver’s seat.

With a sideways glance, Mr. Johnson says, “I insist.”

PREVIOUS: Mission 23: Every Man’s Devil – Part 2
NEXT: Mission 23: Every Man’s Devil – Part 4
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