This is my third attempt at a C4 story. This one's 1,106 words long. C4 is basically a bunch of stand-alone stories set in the same fictional universe, and there's absolutely no need to read any other instalments to know what's going on in whichever C4 story you're reading at the time. All comments and constructive crits much appreciated! Haven't been writing for some time now, trying to get back on track...
[/SIZE]
[CENTER] _________________________________________________ [/SIZE][/CENTER]
[CENTER] Chronologie IV: Cat on a Hot Tin Roof [/SIZE][/CENTER]
[CENTER] An on-going sci-fi series inspired by action movies, video games, and this one British chap with a strange fetish for silly looking hats. [/SIZE][/CENTER]
[CENTER] _________________________________________________ [/SIZE][/CENTER]
“Some things never change: primarily, ninjas. Yes, ninjas. From the old clans of Iga and Koga mountains of ancient Earth to the neo-modern mercenary organization they are today, ninjas are as deadly as ever. And with scientific progress constantly adding new tricks up their sleeves,” the spokesman made a dramatic pause, “No-one is safe. Join our Ninja Awareness program for a petty sum of ten thousand Yen. Call 1-444-444-NINJA.” [/SIZE]
Truly, no-one, thought Kira as she turned away from the Nano Crystal Display billboard and stepped into Tanaka’s nightclub. The establishment was well-known in this part of New Tokyo, and not for the best of reasons. Akinobu Tanaka, one of the seven most influential yakuza bosses on the planet, had it setup as his base of operations. [/SIZE]
There definitely was something about mob bosses and their love for nightclubs. Granted, there were exceptions (Kira had to pay a visit to a drug baron operating out of a milk factory once), but nothing like a good old nightclub to bring a smile to a hard-working criminal’s face any night of the year. [/SIZE]
All the better for Kira. Tanaka’s club wasn’t particularly difficult to find. [/SIZE]
She weaved through the crowd – the place was popular against all odds (mainly the odds of catching a knife in the eye lest you say the wrong words to the wrong people) and made it to the door leading to the private quarters. Even though she had the plans of the building memorized, a heavy-framed guard and the word PRIVATE in big letters sort of gave it away. [/SIZE]
The guard was no problem. In Kira’s experience, most men weren’t after a well-aimed knee strike to the appropriate area. She grabbed the man (bent in two, heavy breathing – usual symptoms of well-aimed strike indeed) and dragged him behind the door before she knocked him out. She was standing in a corridor with a short set of stairs leading up. This was definitely the right door. [/SIZE]
She was to steal out a compromised informant. A job not too hard all things considered, and it has been going pretty smooth so far, but Kira well knew that when someone thought, “Ah, this mission is simple. Get in, get out, get paid,” they usually ended up having a second to reflect on what they did wrong… And that second was the second right before they caught a face full of crowbar.
*THUMP!*
*CRACK!*
*THUMP!*
Kira ran up the ladder into yet another corridor, doors on both sides. The noises were coming from the one closest to the staircase.
*THUMP!*
Sometimes a little surprise can go a long way. She kicked the door in.
Two men were in the room and both seemed to be having a pretty bad day. One of them on the account of being tied to a chair and being hit in the head by the other, and the other on the account of being the sort of man for whom having a bad day was the perpetual state of being. They both looked up.
She dropped to the floor, the first bullet planting itself into the corridor wall behind her. Kira rolled, pulled out her sharpened hairpins, and lunged towards the man as the second bullet hit the spot where she just was. The third bullet went into the ceiling as she pinned the man’s arm to the wall. He never let go of the revolver. Instead, he hit Kira across the face with his free arm, sending her spinning around her axis. She made a three-sixty, and, coming out of the spin, stuck the second hairpin through his other arm hammering it into the wall.
This was where a less tactful lady of her line of work would have said something like, “Nailed you!” or “How’s it hanging?” but Kira never had the temptation. Killing was serious business. Instead she wiped off a streak of blood from her mouth and took a look around.
Her assailant, revolver still in hand, was making growling sounds, trying to burn a hole in her with his stare. The informant just sat in his chair blinking wordlessly. She stepped to the clothes rack and reached into the only item there – a sturdy leather trenchcoat, no doubt belonging to the pinned muscle. Kira produced another revolver from it and aimed it at the man.
“Revolver Tex, if I’m not mistaken?” she said. “We have been following your career. Quite the industrious man you are. It’s been a pleasure.”
“Grrrrrrrrr…” he growled.
Kira pulled the trigger.
“All right, get up, you,” she said, dropping the gun to the ground. It’s not like as if she had fingerprints.
“Ugh… Umph… I’m tied up,” said the informant.
“Oh, for goodness’ sake.”
And now, here comes the hard part, she thought as she put the ignition keycard into her custom Kawasaki 3000 that she'd parked the next street down.
Robert Holdens was sitting behind his oak desk, towering above the short black-haired woman in a motorcycle jacket and her blood-stained companion.
“Miss Kira, what a pleasant surprise,” said her employer without a note of surprise in his voice. He then, without aim, shot a bolt of energy from an XY-24 model disruptor into the informant. The man collapsed onto the fine carpet, smoke coming from where his head used to be.
Kira raised an eyebrow.
“I have chosen your organization for your reputation of subtlety,” he said.
“Put down the gun, Mister Holdens. I know you are not stupid.”
“Yes,” he said, lowering the weapon, “Except that evidently, I am. Subtlety, Miss Kira, subtlety. I was not planning on going to war with the yakuza.”
“Then don’t.”
“Very funny. Except that I can’t. It was stated exclusively in the contract that Tanaka wouldn’t know. And you came in there leaving a bloody mess.”
“He is… Was your informant, Mister Holdens.”
“The whole point of this operation was for Tanaka not to know that unfortunate fact, Miss Kira. You have breached the contract.”
Revolver Tex worked quick, she thought. Too quick. [/SIZE]
“You have breached the contract, therefore, your organization breached the contract. And where does that put you, Miss Kira?”
“Good bye, Mister Holdens,” she said, and walked away. He could’ve tried shooting her, she figured, but he really wasn’t that stupid. Moreover, she had bigger problems to worry about.
The neon lights of the New Tokyo night have long since made place for early morning sunshine. Crowds of people rushed through the streets, some people going to work, some coming from work, some going where ever they felt like going at the time. The clan would not be very happy… In fact, it would most like be unhappy enough to demonstrate its famed subtlety on one of its less subtle members.
Kira mixed with one of the crowds and disappeared.
After all, that's what ninjas do.
[CENTER]_________________________________________________
Next in Chronologie IV: Operation S.E.R.J. [/I][/CENTER]
[/SIZE][/FONT]
[CENTER] _________________________________________________ [/SIZE][/CENTER]
[CENTER] Chronologie IV: Cat on a Hot Tin Roof [/SIZE][/CENTER]
[CENTER] An on-going sci-fi series inspired by action movies, video games, and this one British chap with a strange fetish for silly looking hats. [/SIZE][/CENTER]
[CENTER] _________________________________________________ [/SIZE][/CENTER]
“Some things never change: primarily, ninjas. Yes, ninjas. From the old clans of Iga and Koga mountains of ancient Earth to the neo-modern mercenary organization they are today, ninjas are as deadly as ever. And with scientific progress constantly adding new tricks up their sleeves,” the spokesman made a dramatic pause, “No-one is safe. Join our Ninja Awareness program for a petty sum of ten thousand Yen. Call 1-444-444-NINJA.” [/SIZE]
Truly, no-one, thought Kira as she turned away from the Nano Crystal Display billboard and stepped into Tanaka’s nightclub. The establishment was well-known in this part of New Tokyo, and not for the best of reasons. Akinobu Tanaka, one of the seven most influential yakuza bosses on the planet, had it setup as his base of operations. [/SIZE]
There definitely was something about mob bosses and their love for nightclubs. Granted, there were exceptions (Kira had to pay a visit to a drug baron operating out of a milk factory once), but nothing like a good old nightclub to bring a smile to a hard-working criminal’s face any night of the year. [/SIZE]
All the better for Kira. Tanaka’s club wasn’t particularly difficult to find. [/SIZE]
She weaved through the crowd – the place was popular against all odds (mainly the odds of catching a knife in the eye lest you say the wrong words to the wrong people) and made it to the door leading to the private quarters. Even though she had the plans of the building memorized, a heavy-framed guard and the word PRIVATE in big letters sort of gave it away. [/SIZE]
The guard was no problem. In Kira’s experience, most men weren’t after a well-aimed knee strike to the appropriate area. She grabbed the man (bent in two, heavy breathing – usual symptoms of well-aimed strike indeed) and dragged him behind the door before she knocked him out. She was standing in a corridor with a short set of stairs leading up. This was definitely the right door. [/SIZE]
She was to steal out a compromised informant. A job not too hard all things considered, and it has been going pretty smooth so far, but Kira well knew that when someone thought, “Ah, this mission is simple. Get in, get out, get paid,” they usually ended up having a second to reflect on what they did wrong… And that second was the second right before they caught a face full of crowbar.
*THUMP!*
*CRACK!*
*THUMP!*
Kira ran up the ladder into yet another corridor, doors on both sides. The noises were coming from the one closest to the staircase.
*THUMP!*
Sometimes a little surprise can go a long way. She kicked the door in.
Two men were in the room and both seemed to be having a pretty bad day. One of them on the account of being tied to a chair and being hit in the head by the other, and the other on the account of being the sort of man for whom having a bad day was the perpetual state of being. They both looked up.
She dropped to the floor, the first bullet planting itself into the corridor wall behind her. Kira rolled, pulled out her sharpened hairpins, and lunged towards the man as the second bullet hit the spot where she just was. The third bullet went into the ceiling as she pinned the man’s arm to the wall. He never let go of the revolver. Instead, he hit Kira across the face with his free arm, sending her spinning around her axis. She made a three-sixty, and, coming out of the spin, stuck the second hairpin through his other arm hammering it into the wall.
This was where a less tactful lady of her line of work would have said something like, “Nailed you!” or “How’s it hanging?” but Kira never had the temptation. Killing was serious business. Instead she wiped off a streak of blood from her mouth and took a look around.
Her assailant, revolver still in hand, was making growling sounds, trying to burn a hole in her with his stare. The informant just sat in his chair blinking wordlessly. She stepped to the clothes rack and reached into the only item there – a sturdy leather trenchcoat, no doubt belonging to the pinned muscle. Kira produced another revolver from it and aimed it at the man.
“Revolver Tex, if I’m not mistaken?” she said. “We have been following your career. Quite the industrious man you are. It’s been a pleasure.”
“Grrrrrrrrr…” he growled.
Kira pulled the trigger.
“All right, get up, you,” she said, dropping the gun to the ground. It’s not like as if she had fingerprints.
“Ugh… Umph… I’m tied up,” said the informant.
“Oh, for goodness’ sake.”
And now, here comes the hard part, she thought as she put the ignition keycard into her custom Kawasaki 3000 that she'd parked the next street down.
Robert Holdens was sitting behind his oak desk, towering above the short black-haired woman in a motorcycle jacket and her blood-stained companion.
“Miss Kira, what a pleasant surprise,” said her employer without a note of surprise in his voice. He then, without aim, shot a bolt of energy from an XY-24 model disruptor into the informant. The man collapsed onto the fine carpet, smoke coming from where his head used to be.
Kira raised an eyebrow.
“I have chosen your organization for your reputation of subtlety,” he said.
“Put down the gun, Mister Holdens. I know you are not stupid.”
“Yes,” he said, lowering the weapon, “Except that evidently, I am. Subtlety, Miss Kira, subtlety. I was not planning on going to war with the yakuza.”
“Then don’t.”
“Very funny. Except that I can’t. It was stated exclusively in the contract that Tanaka wouldn’t know. And you came in there leaving a bloody mess.”
“He is… Was your informant, Mister Holdens.”
“The whole point of this operation was for Tanaka not to know that unfortunate fact, Miss Kira. You have breached the contract.”
Revolver Tex worked quick, she thought. Too quick. [/SIZE]
“You have breached the contract, therefore, your organization breached the contract. And where does that put you, Miss Kira?”
“Good bye, Mister Holdens,” she said, and walked away. He could’ve tried shooting her, she figured, but he really wasn’t that stupid. Moreover, she had bigger problems to worry about.
The neon lights of the New Tokyo night have long since made place for early morning sunshine. Crowds of people rushed through the streets, some people going to work, some coming from work, some going where ever they felt like going at the time. The clan would not be very happy… In fact, it would most like be unhappy enough to demonstrate its famed subtlety on one of its less subtle members.
Kira mixed with one of the crowds and disappeared.
After all, that's what ninjas do.
[CENTER]_________________________________________________
Next in Chronologie IV: Operation S.E.R.J. [/I][/CENTER]
[/SIZE][/FONT]
幻術
