Big Trouble in Little China (2 of 4)
Jun 29, 2016 15:29:08 GMT -6
The Polar Phantasm, Crow McMorris, and 1 more like this
Post by The Guardians on Jun 29, 2016 15:29:08 GMT -6
The dark, silent streets of Chicago...Seemed weird to say now but it was the truth. Most citizens were too afraid to stay out too long after sundown now that criminals basically ran the once mighty metropolis. Gangs walked the street without fear or restraint as they kept their eyes out for invaders of rival groups while sporting their various automatic weapons. If you heard gun-fire in the night, there was no telling if it was warfare, a little to optimistic police officer, or simply the battle cry of a trigger happy hoodlum. It was like this all over the Windy City, including in Little China where the White Lotus Triad claimed dominance. The only things open this late at night were a few restaurants that the members of the Triad liked to frequent. Besides that, not many had the courage to keep activity going too long after nightfall. But among that list of 'not-many' was Bonnie Blue who was out surveying the area for the possible vigilante who had been tearing up the city on a constant basis.
She had been searching since sunset and was able to ask a few questions to the locals before the city streets emptied out, but even with that being said, Bonnie was only able to receive small fragments of information about the man she was trying to locate. He only appeared fairly recently – worked mainly at night and keeps to rooftops so only a select few have seen a supposed shadow on an after thought of the man – only attacks criminals, especially members of the White lotus (though only having hit low ranking squads as of yet) – and that the locals have given him a name...Ānjìng which when translated from Chinese means “Silence”.
Bonnie continued her search despite the lack of answers and people to further question. She was hopeful that maybe if she kept to the shadows and kept her eyes open, that maybe she would be able to get a glimpse of “Silence”...She searched around alleyways, traveled through abandoned buildings, laid-low as not to be spotted by the questionable figures that now ran the district, and always had her eyes on the rooftops.
She was halfway down Chow Street, turning into another dark and damp alley when she was stopped by three dark-dressed Chinese men who held .44 caliber pistols in their black-gloved hands. Bonnie's glance switched to each one of their faces as they returned it with unflinching glares. Bonnie chuckled as she slowly backed out of the alleyway with her hands held out in front of her.
Bonnie Blue: Now, y'all's lucky you three ain't the guy I'm lookin' for. So, I promise if ya'll go your separate ways, you boys'll stay perfectly healthy until it finally comes time for me to kick your little operation to the curb. Sound like a plan?
The three split and surrounded Ms. Blue; one in front and two to the back. Her smirk turned into a sigh, disappointed that her investigation had been halted by unrelated ruffians and that she might not gain any further ground on her subject before the night was over. She shrugged off the irritation and prepared herself to take on the thugs, planning to use her ability of distorting time to attempt and avoid gun fire and at least try to save some valuable night time to continue searching. But, before she even threw the first strike, a dark figure dropped down into the alleyway and, even with the time distortion taking place, appeared to be moving at an impressive speed. First, simultaneously taking out both behind her then juking around her before launching at the man in front with a leaping knee straight to his nose.
With all three of the assailants lying on the ground, the dark figure slowly turned around to reveal a form-fitting bodysuit covered in interlocking, thin kevlar-and-ceramic plates patterned to restrict as little movement as possible, leaving only his seemingly tanned arms exposed for ventilation. Mottled in shades of black and grey, the suit was clearly designed for close quarters combat in an urban environment. Completely covering his face was a mask with a smooth, hardened plastic shell over the mouth with two small, filtered air vents at the chin and what appeared to be an integrated set of compact, military-grade night vision goggles covering his eyes.
Bonnie took a few calculated steps back, not taking her eyes off the stranger, though having this strange feeling she had seen his fighting style before. She put this notion to the back of her mind for the time being as she studied the man and his most definitely military grade suit. He didn't appear to be making any hostile movements towards her as he stood there with his arms casually at his side and his head slowly tilting from one side to another as if curious or confused about the person in front of him, before chuckling and taking a step forward which caused Bonnie to take another cautious step back.
Bonnie Blue: Whoa... just hold on there. I've been searching for a mysterious vigilante the locals here refer to as “Silence”, and from what folks tell me so far, I reckon you fit the description pretty well. Now, I don't want to fight but I'm ready for one if you feelin' like making a move. Don't think I'll be so easy to take down as them Triad jokers...
Once Bonnie was finished talking, the masked vigilante raised his hands up, signaling his absolute zero want to fight the Guardian member, then took one hand and slowly pulled down his mask. Bonnie's eyes went wide when she saw that under the mask was a familiar face...
Bonnie Blue: Preecha!!! Oh my god!
There was a squee of joy as Bonnie launched at the returning Muay Thai Kick-Boxer with a sort of tackle-hug which caught Preecha off guard, sending him a few steps back before regaining his footing.
Bonnie Blue: I can't believe it! I was worried for a bit that maybe you and Armand were caught up in The Wave and might not have made it out! Armand made it, right? That pervy ol' bastard! I just still can't believe it, the last time we saw each other seemed like forever ago before you disappeared and I...
Suddenly, Ms. Blue remember, to her embarrassment, that Preecha was deaf and then ceased rambling and released the fighter from her bear hug. Preecha was grinning as he scratched the back of his head, a little embarrassed himself that he could not voice a reply of his own excitement of having ran into Ms. Blue. Suddenly there came a lo-fi sound from the mask Preecha removed.
Armand De La Fontaine: Is that a Ms. Bonnie Blue I saw? I might be going crazy in my older age. The mind can be cruel to a perverted ol' bastard like me!
Bonnie Blue: Armand? Where ya been hidin'? What are ya boys doin' in Chicago, anyways? What happened in Texas? And what is Preecha doin' out here taking on White Lotus Triads for?
Armand De La Fontaine: Believe it or not, it is something Preecha decided to do without my say. I get my use out of it but it is his idea with all the crazy hero nonsense...
Bonnie looked up at Preecha who was peering around to make sure there was nobody else watching them. He looked at Bonnie and signaled to follow him as he headed down the alleyway. Preecha was “Silence”, the vigilante of China Town...A hero for Chicago...And it all came from one moment a little over half a month ago...
It was mid-day. There was a faint smell of sulfur in the air. Preecha Kamon could distinctly sniff it out over all the other rotten scents of Chicago. The Windy City couldn’t blow away the aroma of burnt down buildings smoldering, meth labs cooking, and trash piled higher than some apartments, along with all the piss and shit that covered the gutted civilization. It stunk of The Wave. But even with all that, it was the sulfuric stench that Preecha couldn’t get out of his head. It was just getting stronger
Having moved from Austin, Texas recently, Preecha decided to take a walk around (some distance out of Little China) to become familiar with the surroundings and attempt to desensitize himself to the pungent odors of his new home. The heat did the city no favors as it only served to roast all of it into a humid travesty; scolding concrete and metal everywhere with little room for anything green and organic. Almost anywhere open to the public was filled to the brim with people begging for Central Air and trying to escape the high-noon sun. Chi-Town was an unforgiving bitch.
But, despite this, our hero refused to take off his leather jacket even with the white muscle shirt he was wearing being clearly drenched in sweat and clinging to his skin. He was too absorbed in his thoughts to notice; it was all pushed out of his mind as he watched all the shady figures taking to the street.
Being a former criminal himself, he was familiar with the chaotic underground of organized crime – though it all has seemed to have risen to the surface now. It had become rather easy for him to identify the pure scum out of all the half rot. Austin or Chicago, certain things were common all over the world. But enough with the cliches...Preecha spotted some heavily tattooed types speaking a hard, brutish, disgusting language he recognized to be Russian. Those shifty eye characters whose ground level grunts thought they were a good ways higher up than your average street thug. Ignorance and confidence marked by their lack of subtlety and caution as they dealt and intimidated right out in the open as if untouchable by anyone. It reminded Preecha of the ones Armand used to put up with back when “The Masters and Margaritas” was still standing. The very ones that left them high and dry not even a full month prior.
The whole situation had been rocky for a long time. Armand and the head of the Russian syndicate in Texas, Jack Kanov, never cared for each other but tolerated one another for the sake of the network they had built, which conquered the majority of the Lone Star State. Profit outweighing preference.
Though, despite their need to be peaceful, they could never fully prevent themselves from stepping on each others toes. Despite Armand's wishes, Jack was in constant business with the cartels down in Mexico, claiming it was the biggest profit one could make there on the border. But Armand saw them as disgusting brutes who killed and pillaged for the hell of it and he could never trust a group like that enough to do proper business. But as well, Armand had always taken liberties with the Russians' boundaries while refusing to ever giving up an inch of his own. Though, he only did this because of their carelessness. Jack never took to recruiting as strictly as Armand did. Jack's motto was “Russian and fearless! What else is needed?”. And indeed his men were both those things, maybe too much so. They were clearly ripping customers off, never bothering to hide their activity, and all but put out an ad in the local news paper trying to grow their clientele. Armand had to interfere and send his guys – most of the time it was Preecha – to bust some Russian skulls here and there. Jack would resent it but never hit back. Half because it would be the beginning of a war he knew he couldn't win and it isn't like Armand didn't have reason, and half because Armand was impeccable with talking himself out of trouble when he needed; always seeming a few steps ahead of the Russian.
The last time it happened was a month and a half before they fled to Illinois . Armand had gotten word of a raid the Russians were planning of a small encroaching gang working their way into the Austin scene. Armand knew about the new rivals but had been planning something entirely different than Jack. It was Armand's plan to recruit and connect with the gang, avoid pointless blood and death that never did anything but deplete both sides – His own words. Upon hearing through his infiltrator that Jack had other plans, Armand personally visited his acquaintance while he sent Preecha and a few other specially selected men on a task of their own.
Armand arrived at the personal home of Mr. Kanov – which was supposed to be secret even to his own men, if that is to tell you anything about how much of a grip Mr. La Fontaine had on the situation – around midday in his usual high-priced designer suit. From the outside, the home looked modest and rather suburban for a man like Jack. The house was covered in a faded lime green siding with nooks and crannies covered in webs and dirt, and a dark red/brownish stain could be seen on the bottom step before the front door. Armand looked around a moment or so before skipping knocking entirely and entered the home.
The inside was much different from the previously mentioned exterior. Once one got passed the entry way, they would enter into a living room with furniture that you would find hard to believe even for a crime boss like Jack. A dark brown Amini Toscano high back leather sofa which fit perfectly with the dark wood wall paneling as well as the beige shag carpeting. Not far from that stood a cabinet which held Japanese vases and dishes that were never used (this was something Armand took note of as he had something similar in his own home), all gleaming with a nice blue and white shine. And on the other end of the room were two brown Garbo leather Wingback chairs with hand crafted night stands next to each one. No TV, no radio, not even a computer, a classic drawing room if there ever was one.
Armand moved, continuing onward into an equally nice kitchen until he reached a hallway and finally arrived at a door which lead down into a basement. Armand opened the door and quickly trotted down the wooden steps which lead into an empty concrete cellar. Armand didn't hesitate as he continued until he reached another door which he put his ear to and could hear someone chatting away, possibly on the phone. Mr. La Fontaine smiled as he grabbed the door knob and pushed open to find Jack sitting at the far end of a room bigger than the living room upstairs but with the same wood paneling.
Jack was not a pleasant man to look at with his busted up, snub nose with nostrils you could almost see into from a distance. His hairline reseeded to mid-scalp and lost all its color. As well, he had scrutinizing beedee little eyes and an unkempt mustache that covered his awkwardly small mouth. He stared at Armand from his gigantic mahogany desk and put the phone to the receiver. He didn't appear to be shocked by the arrival of his 'partner' in crime. Nor should he have been. For a while now, Jack suspected Armand of knowing more than he let on, including the location of his home.
Jack Kanov: I assume you are here about the raid. I am only surprised in the fact that you didn't arrive to our base first, to beat down my men and trash our equipment once again. I imagine you sent a few others instead to do so.
Armand walked over and observed a painting on the wall while he listened. When Jack had finished talking, Armand didn't remove his gaze, instead he used his hand to gesture to Jack.
Armand De La Fontaine: No no...I figured I'd give your guys a break for once and finally blame those who are really responsible. I came here to ask you to cancel your raid and prevent senseless violence for some stupid point of pride.
Jack Kanov: I am surprise again with you, Armand. Not only have I never seen you asking for anything before but usually you are filled with your stupid french idioms when we meet. Today you seem more like myself, straight to the point, straight to the bone. So, let us reverse roles for a moment. Let me talk for a moment and you finally having to accept what I have done.
Honestly, I really don't see a reason to stop. I can only benefit by proceeding, right? They can't win and I won't lose space. I don't need some green as fuck gang entering my territory. I refuse to let them in! And don't bother acting stupid, I know what you wanted to do; you aren't the only one who can get information! I know you wanted to extend a hand to them! For what reason, I do not know but you do. Well, allow me for once to ruin YOUR plan!...I won't call off my men...I'm not afraid of you and if you attack, this time I won't be able to ignore it because this time this wasn't a bumbling fuck up you caught them in. This is an order from me! From the top! You have to realize as well that this distorted and warped form of peace we have is a form of mutually assured destruction. That is exactly why you're asking right now, because you can't do anything else. But to your asking, it is a straight and definite no! So, if you wish to hit that point of both our collapse, you're welcomed to try and stop me. As you might say “Que sera sera”...
Armand grimaced in a sardonic manner before stepping away from the painting and putting his hands behind his back. He took several steps before arriving only a foot or two away from the desk. The visiting crime boss seemed unimpressed.
Armand De La Fontaine: You stupid Russian. Que sera sera is Spanish and I am definitely not going to bother playing dumb. I am perfectly aware of our situation but I am afraid you really have never been good with anything except violence. A general, if you can be called such, really should have a better understanding of strategy. There are more ways to win beyond fighting. You ask me if I sent men to topple your boys? My answer was no and that is true. But that doesn't mean I didn't send them on to do something else. I know for a fact that you sent a shipment of weapons earlier today to the cartel, right?
Jack snorted with his over-sized nostrils before turning away in his chair.
Armand De La Fontaine: Right. Well, since you have yet to locate my informant – and trust me, you never will – I happened to know where your shipment was and who was carrying it. By now, my men will have over taken the crew and are holding it, you could say hostage. I imagine the cartel won't be too happy if that shipment doesn't arrive and then you'll have more than just me and some “green as fuck gang” to deal with. And the cartel doesn't come to your house to talk as I would, trying to seek understanding and mutual gain. No, they'll chop your head off and leave it in your daughter's bed.
Armand took a seat on the side of Jack's vast desk with a comfortable smile and a relaxed demeanor, leaning over, trying to look the Russian in the eyes.
Armand De La Fontaine: Though, since you are not afraid of me, you could just send some more of your men to take the shipment back and get this war started already. Unless of course the whole point was that old cold war tactic. The ball was in my court, it was my decision to pull the trigger and you were certain I wouldn't do it. Thinking that it was fight or flight, I had to be the one to think of all the consequences and worry for my survival. Indeed, it was a reversal of roles. I understand now how you feel most of the time...But now it is time to stop role-playing and get back to how things really are. Ball is in your court. I have your weapons. Do you risk your whole infrastructure, as well as maybe your life, just because some no names get a little space? Out of the three decisions you could make, there is only one that ends positively for you. It is the one where you eventually realize how stupid you were acting at this very moment and acknowledge that you just barely avoided a figurative and literal bullet. Come on, Jack. Don't be stupid.
Armand stood up from the desk and moved to the middle of the room.
Armand De La Fontaine: Though ultimately it is your choice and no matter what, I don't think anyone could call you a coward...I mean some might, but the truth is in that one scenario you were just coming to your senses. Que sera sera, Jack.
There was a moment of silence as Jack rapped his fingers on the desk with a look of disdain as he continued to face away from Armand. After a minute or so had passed, Jack finally picked up the phone and dialed a number. Armand clapped his hands as a delighted smile flashed onto his face.
Armand De La Fontaine: Wonderful choice! Good game, my Russian friend. It was a good show of possibility but I assure you that you are not quite ready to play, maybe another time. Oh, as for the gang, I am just being pragmatic like I was with you so many years ago. You forget that once, you were the enemy. Au revoir!
And with that, Armand left Jack to call off his troops and to tell Preecha to let the transport go through...That seemed like forever ago now. The Wave had warped his perception of time as well as his perception of reality. Everything before The Wave seems like a phantom limb to his old person, to the whole world in general. Instead of being a real memory, it seemed implanted or even more so like a story that was once told to him.
He walked on as he continued to spot things that didn't leave much shock and awe in him any more. A mugging here and there, people yelling to each other at a store front, someone ripping off someone else, and the uprising of the street-corner karate joint. The last one was a phenomenon that hadn't been seen since the 80's where Ralph Macchio was king and Karate Kid had come out in theatres. Now-a-days it was because rich white kids needed a stupid way to defend themselves so they willingly went to some half-trained bum and let him over charge them to basically keep his studio clean with maybe some chops and kicks here and there to make them feel like they were progressing.
Preecha could hardly remember the last time he was in a real gym, training hard, letting the world melt away. All he remembered when he looked into the joints they had around him were the WHAM BAM SLAMS of sparing and sandbags. It all seemed like a big blur of concentration, a karate kid styled montage of one moment to the next, as if when he was training, he was strictly entering another world that paused when he was away and resumed when he returned. Now it seemed like he was forever outside it after the words Armand spoke to him the last time he was in one...before that world paused for the final time...“We have company...”
Passing the current rip off studio, Preecha noticed a truly strange sight. Something that stood out vibrantly among the grey air of disappointment and defeat. A small girl in a blue dress, possibly eleven, running around and laughing; closely followed by her friends. Such a delightful spirit to all of them. Seeing the smile was almost rejuvenating to Preecha as all he had seen for a while was depression and people who had given up. It made him think for a moment that a future of hope wasn't completely lost...But then that smell of sulfur returned, this time stronger than ever. He looked around, trying to see where it could have been coming from but there was too much traffic going through to pin-point the source. But the fighter noticed that others were covering their noses and mouths, so he wasn't the only one noticing the violently potent stink.
He turned back to see that the young girl was all the way up the sidewalk, crossing the street where there was a few different notable buildings including a bank. Her gayness was still radiant and infectious from even so far away. But suddenly the sulfuric cloud was stronger than ever as he felt a breeze flow through when a truck with a tank in the carriage barely missed him. It had swerved onto the sidewalk at top speed, zooming past those who managed to jump out of the way, scraping by polls and crashing through signs until it veered back onto the street and straight into the bank after the passengers leaped out.
Colliding into the brick building, the truck exploded, sending the smell that had been lingering all day into a giant wave through out the whole block. Smoke consumed the street-corner as everyone ran in the opposite direction. Preecha stood, wide eyed for a moment before pushing his way through the panic of people until he was on the corner. He watched as multiple men in gas masks with automatic weapons raced into the grey cloud. Just on the edge of the chaos was the little girl lying on her side, not moving, no sign of her friends. Preecha hurried over and dropped to his knees to turn her over in order to check to see if she was okay but the body was limp and there was no signs of breathing. His heart sank.
The fighter didn't realize but a groan escaped from him as tears began to run done his face. The hope inside him was cracking again. The good thing, the one, simple good thing was blown out of existence by the continuous bad thing. By the never ending chaos. By The Wave! It was just like everywhere else. It was just like Austin. It all flashed back into Preecha's head in violent pulses. The cartel raiding the night club, the Russians blockading the police, the endless slaughtering of all the other employees he had come to know after three or four years working there, the endless bullet shells laying everywhere when him and Armand finally arrive after leaving the gym...That hopeless, helpless feeling of never ending running as it felt like the whole world was crashing down at once without so much as a life boat to look forward to. Eventually the running slowed down to a crawl...crawling around Chicago, trying to lay low. And now this. Curse God and die.
Preecha, with a face red from the tears and the rage, looked up from the lifeless young body and watched the smoke continue to poor out. He reached into his jacket and pulled out a Desert Eagle, which was the exact reason he didn't take off the jacket in the first place. He got off his knees and walked into the darkness. There were several shots fired through the smoke, no one really able to see anything until the smoke had thinned out a bit. When it did, what was there to see was four dead men on the ground with either a chunk of head missing or gaping holes left in their bloody bodies. As well as Preecha pointing his gun at the last man standing. The masked thief dropped his bag and fell to his knees as he held up his hands and begged for his life, but too bad for him, he was dealing with our hearing impaired friend today. Preecha pulled the trigger. It was all silence for him as the gun whipped back with chaotic force and the bullet ripped through the air at an invisible speed, taking a part of the robber with it.
Preecha was breathing heavily as the smoke occupied some space in his lungs. He coughed as he ran out of the building and down the street, trying to get away from the scene as fast as possible. It was at that moment that he decided that The Wave wasn't going to beat him. He refused to let it take lives so freely and carelessly as if they didn't mean anything to anybody. Chicago was not going to be another Austin. He was going to stand and fight. He was going to clear city of what took it in the night. Over all the roaring, the booming and the crackling, Preecha was going to bring back the Silence...
He started without even telling Armand. He would dawn a half face-mask and travel the city through the dark recesses much like Bonnie did until he found it was too difficult to avoid confrontation on ground level. He would end up getting in constant fights with grunts, sometimes getting ambushed and barely making it out. He learned to travel from on high, from roof top to roof top. Learning the city from a bird's eye view as well as discovering his own abilities; jumping from one platform to another. He would carefully pick out a goon who would travel alone or who was harassing an innocent citizen and then swoop in from on high and send the bastard to the emergency room.
It didn't take Armand long at all to find out and soon it became more of an operation than radical vigilante justice. Armand still had connections and so once in a while he would hear a rumor of gang activity and send Preecha to investigate. It was during one of these investigations that Preecha happened upon Bonnie Blue. At first he thought his eyes had deceived him, but as soon as he saw her from up close, there was no way he could question running into an old sparring partner, not knowing at the time it was his mask dawning that brought her to him.
After meeting up again, Preecha brought Bonnie to Armand's base of operations: An abandoned church...Not many people really bothered keeping up the faith after everything happened, so Armand threw down a flag, bought a couple of generators and set up shop. It almost made him excited as he felt he was returning to how it all began. Restarting to build from the ground up. For once, he felt young again.
Upon seeing Armand again after so long, Bonnie gave the ol' bastard a hug, something she had promised him way back and he had not forgotten. Being that Armand could hear, unlike Preecha, Bonnie returned to a more talkative state as the three had a lot to catch up on with each other.
Armand De La Fontaine: Ah, Bonnie. Your presences makes me comme un poisson dans l'eau! I thought I would never see a friendly face again! Avoir une bonne gueule! And as you know, Preecha himself lacks such a face. Haha! I kid, my deaf friend!
Preecha took notice that this is the most energetic Armand had been since arriving to his new home. Armand had mostly become reclusive and paranoid as he was apprehensive at almost every corner. But at this very moment it was like nothing had changed.
Bonnie looked around as she observed the makeshift set up within the former home of faith. Connected to the generators were several computers, some showing surveillance while others seemed to run code and showed a skewed angle which she eventually realized came from Preecha's mask.
Bonnie Blue: How'd you boys manage to get your hands on this military-grade bargain?
Armand De La Fontaine: Would it be enough to say it fell off the back of a truck?
Bonnie looked at him with glance of comic disapproval as the former night club owner chuckled.
Armand De La Fontaine: I owe it to certain people that it remains a secret. I hope you excuse the secrecy. It isn't that I don't trust you; it just isn't my right to say. In these times, doing right by other people means sometimes keeping them in the shadows.
Bonnie seemed a little perturbed by the sudden reservedness of someone she felt had more than enough reason to trust her but time had changed a lot and she couldn't entirely blame Armand.
Armand De La Fontaine: So, what have you been up to, my dear?
Bonnie Blue: Working with some friends. Getting into some big things.
Her response seemed just as reserved if not more so than Armand which sent a bad jolt through his back as his paranoia and exhaustion began to creep through, despite his best intentions.
Armand De La Fontaine: Oh really? Mind elaborating?...
Bonnie was put off a little by the question and peered at Armand with a questioning glance.
Bonnie Blue: I guess it's like you said. I owe it to certain people to keep that secret.
There was a moment of silence between the two before Preecha stepped in and gave Armand a slight push kick, not wanting to have the situation drill any deeper. Armand turned to look at his deaf compatriot who nodded towards the computer.
Armand De La Fontaine: Indeed...
Armand took a seat and swiveled towards the monitors, shifting through documents.
Armand De La Fontaine: What do you know about the White Lotus Triad...
Bonnie Blue: Not too much besides some common knowledge around these parts. Ran by someone they call the “Mountain Master” no idea who that is but he has three people under him running the day to day. Usual syndicate activity, extortion, trafficking, gambling, and so on.
Armand De La Fontaine: Right, The Wave did them a bit of damage, so they had to regain some grown since then. We are lucky in that since. Might not be so hard to get through the cracks in that instance. Had this been ever three or four months ago, we would be looking at mission impossible right here.
Bonnie Blue: Hey now. What you mean by that? What mission 're you yammering on about?
Armand interlaced his fingers together and placed his elbows on the desk, staring into a single document.
Armand De La Fontaine: My apologies, Ms. Blue. I'm gourmande comme un cha. Feel free to join us or not but, tonight, before we ran into you, we were looking into some news that the White Lotus was receiving an important shipment. So important in fact, that the leaders are only trusting a few of their crew under the supervision of Zhong Huan, their enforcer. Might be to our advantage, might not be, but if it needs a sort of security clearance to see, then I am interested in seeing what these fuckers have coming to them!
After further discussion, it was mentioned by Preecha (sign language of course, though I will spare the tedious detail for now) that he mentioned to get a small bit of info, mainly location. The delivery was supposed to take place at a warehouse a good distance out of town, almost in a pseudo-rural area surrounded by hills and valleys.
Before the conversation went any further, Bonnie broke off just for a moment to contact Phantasm that she had found the vigilante and that he wouldn't believe who it was...And indeed he didn't as he claimed we was chasing the vigilante that very moment...Confused by this statement, Bonnie shook it off and assured herself that Polar had it under control and that what she was currently dealing with might even help in the long run if it is as important as Armand thinks it to be. After returning to the discussion with Preecha and Armand, they discussed their strategy, trying to work out as soon as possible what they planned to do when the package arrived. Once everything was said and done, Armand handed Bonnie an ear piece so they could communicate right before Preecha and her headed out with Armand manning the surveillance.
Upon arriving, Bonnie and Preecha hid out on the hills, peering through binoculars to view as things continued to unfold. They saw in the distance as a suspiciously beaten up U-haul moving truck sped through, on course with the warehouse. Once it was close enough, it could be seen that the transport was managed by a group of roughneck mercenaries who stepped out with an itinerary of assault rifles. They were met with a group of equally armed men and specifically well dressed one at the forefront whom they presumed to be Zhong.
Preecha and Bonnie waited as a giant crate was pulled out of the truck and brought forth to the Triad members. A few words were exchanged before Zhong signaled for one of his men to hand of a briefcase they had been holding onto through the entire duration of the meeting. It was handed to one of the mercenaries to the side who opened it, observed the contents then nodded to the leader who turned to the triad with a moment of silence before they all hoped into the truck and hurried off.
Once the mercenaries were out of site, Zhong signaled for his men to bring the crate inside. Once they had all entered the warehouse, that is when Bonnie and Preecha moved down from the hill and to the warehouse. They halted a few meters out as Preecha pulled out a grenade launcher. He loaded three grenades in and fired off one by one through the windows. Pure white smoke began to build up as Bonnie could hear commotion stirring from inside. Both looked to each other and nodded before splitting. Preecha approaching the set of windows he shot through and Bonnie going around the back.
The deaf fighter threw up a grappling hook, latched onto the broken window and started climbing. As soon as he reached the top, he waited a moment before taking a mirror out of his pocket and extending the handle to three feet. He holds it over the window as he tries to see the conditions inside before dropping in. The mirror not being shot instantly was a good sign that the smoke grenades were doing their job and no one managed to escape the inhibitor. He leaned into the window and, avoiding the broken glass, dropped down into the smokey room.
Before any further action, Preecha pressed a button on the side of his goggles, activating the sound detection program that alerted him to what direction a noise was coming from. With this on, he continued through the fog sure that the men would try to refrain from firing until their vision was cleared, as to not hit a partner by accident. Preecha took advantage of this and slowly followed one set of foot steps until he was right behind his target then quickly knocked them out with a roundhouse kick. There were a signal of a louder thud but before Preecha turned to address it, a bit of writing appeared at the bottom of his interface. “Don't worry, Bonnie is in. She took down a big guy. Preecha continued this tactic a few more times, knocking out one, two, three grunts as he continued to see thud after thud appear on his goggles until at one moment he was following appear of footsteps and was about to repeat the same move when he hit a space in the smoke as it began to thin out and saw it was Bonnie.
Bonnie seemed a little surprised he had managed to sneak up on here but quickly smiled it off before pointing behind Preecha. Upon turning around, they saw two other men as they stood in front of Zhong. Preecha quickly pulled out his Desert Eagle and Bonnie instinctually activated her time distortion which upon further observation, she noticed that Preecha appeared to be moving at normal speed...Before they even made an attempt to charge the White Lotus members, all three men threw down a smoke screen of their own before seeming disappearing into thin air, despite having been slowed down, almost as if they had actually vanished into the night. Releasing out of time distortion, Bonnie tried her best to search for the remaining members but Armand rung out in her ear.
Bonnie Blue: Where are they?!?
Armand De La Fontaine: Forget it, Bonnie. It's Chinatown...
Preecha, having holstered his pistol, walked over to the giant crate that was leaning up against the wall at an angle. The box having already been opened, Preecha tossed the lid to the side, revealing a giant, high-tech, cryogenic container and on the inside was a blonde haired man wearing a red leather jacket and black muscle shirt and jeans underneath.
Bonnie Blue: Uhhh...We went through all this for...a dead guy?...
Armand De La Fontaine: I...am beyond confused...
But upon seeing the man, Preecha suddenly leaped into action, having recognized him from a time before...He search all over the machine for some sign of a way to get the frozen man out of his state of suspended animation...Having no luck, Preecha pulled out his pistol and was ready to shoot the damn thing before Bonnie stepped in and told Preecha to calm down. She pulled her Sonic Impact Wrench aimed it at the contraption.
Bonnie Blue: Well, this sure don't seem like your ordinary crime syndicate tech. Way above their allowance...Weird...Hold on one second.
After a moment of analyzing the machine, Bonnie pressed a button on her Sonic wrench that let out a squeal and after a moment or so, the tech appeared to be reacting as lights lit up and the inside stopped being visible. It took a while but soon the glass opened up and out poured endless steam before a hand reached out and latched onto the side before pulling the rest of him out.
The man stumbled out of the machine, almost falling to the floor if it wasn't for Preecha who was quick to catch him. The man looked up into Preecha's eyes.
Hophni: Oh, it's you again, my friend! It has been too long...
The man looked around, wondering where it was exactly he had woken up.
Hophni: How long, I am not all too sure at the moment...
He gets to his feet and slowly regains his bearings as he continued to look around. He slowly put one foot in front of the other, doing his best to keep balance. Eventually his half-awake gaze landed on Bonnie.
Hophni: Ah! Bonnie! We've met once before! Well...it wasn't us who met...Well, it was but it wasn't. It wasn't the two of us, but it was us in spirit, in a sort of since...
Armand De La Fontaine: What is this guy talking about...
The stranger continued to move around, mumbling to himself...Until one moment, he slaps himself on the forehead and turns back around.
Hophni: Sorry, you must excuse my rudeness, kind of all over the place...I wish you understood how literal that was...Let me introduce myself to you and for those who may be listening...I am Hophni. At least that is one of my names. There is a name a small African tribe in another world calls me that I much more prefer, Para-Pirutseo-Bal. But I won't force that on you, not for the time being anyways. Again sorry, I am all over the place. There is still some of me locked up all over existence at the moment, so I am not all there. It is a terrible feeling. Like when you wake up and there is still parts of your body that don't want to move...Really it is terrible...
Both Bonnie and Preecha stared at Hophni with their jaws dropped, with no real idea what to reply with besides silence...
Armand De La Fontaine: Wait...what the fuck did he just say?!
She had been searching since sunset and was able to ask a few questions to the locals before the city streets emptied out, but even with that being said, Bonnie was only able to receive small fragments of information about the man she was trying to locate. He only appeared fairly recently – worked mainly at night and keeps to rooftops so only a select few have seen a supposed shadow on an after thought of the man – only attacks criminals, especially members of the White lotus (though only having hit low ranking squads as of yet) – and that the locals have given him a name...Ānjìng which when translated from Chinese means “Silence”.
Bonnie continued her search despite the lack of answers and people to further question. She was hopeful that maybe if she kept to the shadows and kept her eyes open, that maybe she would be able to get a glimpse of “Silence”...She searched around alleyways, traveled through abandoned buildings, laid-low as not to be spotted by the questionable figures that now ran the district, and always had her eyes on the rooftops.
She was halfway down Chow Street, turning into another dark and damp alley when she was stopped by three dark-dressed Chinese men who held .44 caliber pistols in their black-gloved hands. Bonnie's glance switched to each one of their faces as they returned it with unflinching glares. Bonnie chuckled as she slowly backed out of the alleyway with her hands held out in front of her.
Bonnie Blue: Now, y'all's lucky you three ain't the guy I'm lookin' for. So, I promise if ya'll go your separate ways, you boys'll stay perfectly healthy until it finally comes time for me to kick your little operation to the curb. Sound like a plan?
The three split and surrounded Ms. Blue; one in front and two to the back. Her smirk turned into a sigh, disappointed that her investigation had been halted by unrelated ruffians and that she might not gain any further ground on her subject before the night was over. She shrugged off the irritation and prepared herself to take on the thugs, planning to use her ability of distorting time to attempt and avoid gun fire and at least try to save some valuable night time to continue searching. But, before she even threw the first strike, a dark figure dropped down into the alleyway and, even with the time distortion taking place, appeared to be moving at an impressive speed. First, simultaneously taking out both behind her then juking around her before launching at the man in front with a leaping knee straight to his nose.
With all three of the assailants lying on the ground, the dark figure slowly turned around to reveal a form-fitting bodysuit covered in interlocking, thin kevlar-and-ceramic plates patterned to restrict as little movement as possible, leaving only his seemingly tanned arms exposed for ventilation. Mottled in shades of black and grey, the suit was clearly designed for close quarters combat in an urban environment. Completely covering his face was a mask with a smooth, hardened plastic shell over the mouth with two small, filtered air vents at the chin and what appeared to be an integrated set of compact, military-grade night vision goggles covering his eyes.
Bonnie took a few calculated steps back, not taking her eyes off the stranger, though having this strange feeling she had seen his fighting style before. She put this notion to the back of her mind for the time being as she studied the man and his most definitely military grade suit. He didn't appear to be making any hostile movements towards her as he stood there with his arms casually at his side and his head slowly tilting from one side to another as if curious or confused about the person in front of him, before chuckling and taking a step forward which caused Bonnie to take another cautious step back.
Bonnie Blue: Whoa... just hold on there. I've been searching for a mysterious vigilante the locals here refer to as “Silence”, and from what folks tell me so far, I reckon you fit the description pretty well. Now, I don't want to fight but I'm ready for one if you feelin' like making a move. Don't think I'll be so easy to take down as them Triad jokers...
Once Bonnie was finished talking, the masked vigilante raised his hands up, signaling his absolute zero want to fight the Guardian member, then took one hand and slowly pulled down his mask. Bonnie's eyes went wide when she saw that under the mask was a familiar face...
Bonnie Blue: Preecha!!! Oh my god!
There was a squee of joy as Bonnie launched at the returning Muay Thai Kick-Boxer with a sort of tackle-hug which caught Preecha off guard, sending him a few steps back before regaining his footing.
Bonnie Blue: I can't believe it! I was worried for a bit that maybe you and Armand were caught up in The Wave and might not have made it out! Armand made it, right? That pervy ol' bastard! I just still can't believe it, the last time we saw each other seemed like forever ago before you disappeared and I...
Suddenly, Ms. Blue remember, to her embarrassment, that Preecha was deaf and then ceased rambling and released the fighter from her bear hug. Preecha was grinning as he scratched the back of his head, a little embarrassed himself that he could not voice a reply of his own excitement of having ran into Ms. Blue. Suddenly there came a lo-fi sound from the mask Preecha removed.
Armand De La Fontaine: Is that a Ms. Bonnie Blue I saw? I might be going crazy in my older age. The mind can be cruel to a perverted ol' bastard like me!
Bonnie Blue: Armand? Where ya been hidin'? What are ya boys doin' in Chicago, anyways? What happened in Texas? And what is Preecha doin' out here taking on White Lotus Triads for?
Armand De La Fontaine: Believe it or not, it is something Preecha decided to do without my say. I get my use out of it but it is his idea with all the crazy hero nonsense...
Bonnie looked up at Preecha who was peering around to make sure there was nobody else watching them. He looked at Bonnie and signaled to follow him as he headed down the alleyway. Preecha was “Silence”, the vigilante of China Town...A hero for Chicago...And it all came from one moment a little over half a month ago...
It was mid-day. There was a faint smell of sulfur in the air. Preecha Kamon could distinctly sniff it out over all the other rotten scents of Chicago. The Windy City couldn’t blow away the aroma of burnt down buildings smoldering, meth labs cooking, and trash piled higher than some apartments, along with all the piss and shit that covered the gutted civilization. It stunk of The Wave. But even with all that, it was the sulfuric stench that Preecha couldn’t get out of his head. It was just getting stronger
Having moved from Austin, Texas recently, Preecha decided to take a walk around (some distance out of Little China) to become familiar with the surroundings and attempt to desensitize himself to the pungent odors of his new home. The heat did the city no favors as it only served to roast all of it into a humid travesty; scolding concrete and metal everywhere with little room for anything green and organic. Almost anywhere open to the public was filled to the brim with people begging for Central Air and trying to escape the high-noon sun. Chi-Town was an unforgiving bitch.
But, despite this, our hero refused to take off his leather jacket even with the white muscle shirt he was wearing being clearly drenched in sweat and clinging to his skin. He was too absorbed in his thoughts to notice; it was all pushed out of his mind as he watched all the shady figures taking to the street.
Being a former criminal himself, he was familiar with the chaotic underground of organized crime – though it all has seemed to have risen to the surface now. It had become rather easy for him to identify the pure scum out of all the half rot. Austin or Chicago, certain things were common all over the world. But enough with the cliches...Preecha spotted some heavily tattooed types speaking a hard, brutish, disgusting language he recognized to be Russian. Those shifty eye characters whose ground level grunts thought they were a good ways higher up than your average street thug. Ignorance and confidence marked by their lack of subtlety and caution as they dealt and intimidated right out in the open as if untouchable by anyone. It reminded Preecha of the ones Armand used to put up with back when “The Masters and Margaritas” was still standing. The very ones that left them high and dry not even a full month prior.
The whole situation had been rocky for a long time. Armand and the head of the Russian syndicate in Texas, Jack Kanov, never cared for each other but tolerated one another for the sake of the network they had built, which conquered the majority of the Lone Star State. Profit outweighing preference.
Though, despite their need to be peaceful, they could never fully prevent themselves from stepping on each others toes. Despite Armand's wishes, Jack was in constant business with the cartels down in Mexico, claiming it was the biggest profit one could make there on the border. But Armand saw them as disgusting brutes who killed and pillaged for the hell of it and he could never trust a group like that enough to do proper business. But as well, Armand had always taken liberties with the Russians' boundaries while refusing to ever giving up an inch of his own. Though, he only did this because of their carelessness. Jack never took to recruiting as strictly as Armand did. Jack's motto was “Russian and fearless! What else is needed?”. And indeed his men were both those things, maybe too much so. They were clearly ripping customers off, never bothering to hide their activity, and all but put out an ad in the local news paper trying to grow their clientele. Armand had to interfere and send his guys – most of the time it was Preecha – to bust some Russian skulls here and there. Jack would resent it but never hit back. Half because it would be the beginning of a war he knew he couldn't win and it isn't like Armand didn't have reason, and half because Armand was impeccable with talking himself out of trouble when he needed; always seeming a few steps ahead of the Russian.
The last time it happened was a month and a half before they fled to Illinois . Armand had gotten word of a raid the Russians were planning of a small encroaching gang working their way into the Austin scene. Armand knew about the new rivals but had been planning something entirely different than Jack. It was Armand's plan to recruit and connect with the gang, avoid pointless blood and death that never did anything but deplete both sides – His own words. Upon hearing through his infiltrator that Jack had other plans, Armand personally visited his acquaintance while he sent Preecha and a few other specially selected men on a task of their own.
Armand arrived at the personal home of Mr. Kanov – which was supposed to be secret even to his own men, if that is to tell you anything about how much of a grip Mr. La Fontaine had on the situation – around midday in his usual high-priced designer suit. From the outside, the home looked modest and rather suburban for a man like Jack. The house was covered in a faded lime green siding with nooks and crannies covered in webs and dirt, and a dark red/brownish stain could be seen on the bottom step before the front door. Armand looked around a moment or so before skipping knocking entirely and entered the home.
The inside was much different from the previously mentioned exterior. Once one got passed the entry way, they would enter into a living room with furniture that you would find hard to believe even for a crime boss like Jack. A dark brown Amini Toscano high back leather sofa which fit perfectly with the dark wood wall paneling as well as the beige shag carpeting. Not far from that stood a cabinet which held Japanese vases and dishes that were never used (this was something Armand took note of as he had something similar in his own home), all gleaming with a nice blue and white shine. And on the other end of the room were two brown Garbo leather Wingback chairs with hand crafted night stands next to each one. No TV, no radio, not even a computer, a classic drawing room if there ever was one.
Armand moved, continuing onward into an equally nice kitchen until he reached a hallway and finally arrived at a door which lead down into a basement. Armand opened the door and quickly trotted down the wooden steps which lead into an empty concrete cellar. Armand didn't hesitate as he continued until he reached another door which he put his ear to and could hear someone chatting away, possibly on the phone. Mr. La Fontaine smiled as he grabbed the door knob and pushed open to find Jack sitting at the far end of a room bigger than the living room upstairs but with the same wood paneling.
Jack was not a pleasant man to look at with his busted up, snub nose with nostrils you could almost see into from a distance. His hairline reseeded to mid-scalp and lost all its color. As well, he had scrutinizing beedee little eyes and an unkempt mustache that covered his awkwardly small mouth. He stared at Armand from his gigantic mahogany desk and put the phone to the receiver. He didn't appear to be shocked by the arrival of his 'partner' in crime. Nor should he have been. For a while now, Jack suspected Armand of knowing more than he let on, including the location of his home.
Jack Kanov: I assume you are here about the raid. I am only surprised in the fact that you didn't arrive to our base first, to beat down my men and trash our equipment once again. I imagine you sent a few others instead to do so.
Armand walked over and observed a painting on the wall while he listened. When Jack had finished talking, Armand didn't remove his gaze, instead he used his hand to gesture to Jack.
Armand De La Fontaine: No no...I figured I'd give your guys a break for once and finally blame those who are really responsible. I came here to ask you to cancel your raid and prevent senseless violence for some stupid point of pride.
Jack Kanov: I am surprise again with you, Armand. Not only have I never seen you asking for anything before but usually you are filled with your stupid french idioms when we meet. Today you seem more like myself, straight to the point, straight to the bone. So, let us reverse roles for a moment. Let me talk for a moment and you finally having to accept what I have done.
Honestly, I really don't see a reason to stop. I can only benefit by proceeding, right? They can't win and I won't lose space. I don't need some green as fuck gang entering my territory. I refuse to let them in! And don't bother acting stupid, I know what you wanted to do; you aren't the only one who can get information! I know you wanted to extend a hand to them! For what reason, I do not know but you do. Well, allow me for once to ruin YOUR plan!...I won't call off my men...I'm not afraid of you and if you attack, this time I won't be able to ignore it because this time this wasn't a bumbling fuck up you caught them in. This is an order from me! From the top! You have to realize as well that this distorted and warped form of peace we have is a form of mutually assured destruction. That is exactly why you're asking right now, because you can't do anything else. But to your asking, it is a straight and definite no! So, if you wish to hit that point of both our collapse, you're welcomed to try and stop me. As you might say “Que sera sera”...
Armand grimaced in a sardonic manner before stepping away from the painting and putting his hands behind his back. He took several steps before arriving only a foot or two away from the desk. The visiting crime boss seemed unimpressed.
Armand De La Fontaine: You stupid Russian. Que sera sera is Spanish and I am definitely not going to bother playing dumb. I am perfectly aware of our situation but I am afraid you really have never been good with anything except violence. A general, if you can be called such, really should have a better understanding of strategy. There are more ways to win beyond fighting. You ask me if I sent men to topple your boys? My answer was no and that is true. But that doesn't mean I didn't send them on to do something else. I know for a fact that you sent a shipment of weapons earlier today to the cartel, right?
Jack snorted with his over-sized nostrils before turning away in his chair.
Armand De La Fontaine: Right. Well, since you have yet to locate my informant – and trust me, you never will – I happened to know where your shipment was and who was carrying it. By now, my men will have over taken the crew and are holding it, you could say hostage. I imagine the cartel won't be too happy if that shipment doesn't arrive and then you'll have more than just me and some “green as fuck gang” to deal with. And the cartel doesn't come to your house to talk as I would, trying to seek understanding and mutual gain. No, they'll chop your head off and leave it in your daughter's bed.
Armand took a seat on the side of Jack's vast desk with a comfortable smile and a relaxed demeanor, leaning over, trying to look the Russian in the eyes.
Armand De La Fontaine: Though, since you are not afraid of me, you could just send some more of your men to take the shipment back and get this war started already. Unless of course the whole point was that old cold war tactic. The ball was in my court, it was my decision to pull the trigger and you were certain I wouldn't do it. Thinking that it was fight or flight, I had to be the one to think of all the consequences and worry for my survival. Indeed, it was a reversal of roles. I understand now how you feel most of the time...But now it is time to stop role-playing and get back to how things really are. Ball is in your court. I have your weapons. Do you risk your whole infrastructure, as well as maybe your life, just because some no names get a little space? Out of the three decisions you could make, there is only one that ends positively for you. It is the one where you eventually realize how stupid you were acting at this very moment and acknowledge that you just barely avoided a figurative and literal bullet. Come on, Jack. Don't be stupid.
Armand stood up from the desk and moved to the middle of the room.
Armand De La Fontaine: Though ultimately it is your choice and no matter what, I don't think anyone could call you a coward...I mean some might, but the truth is in that one scenario you were just coming to your senses. Que sera sera, Jack.
There was a moment of silence as Jack rapped his fingers on the desk with a look of disdain as he continued to face away from Armand. After a minute or so had passed, Jack finally picked up the phone and dialed a number. Armand clapped his hands as a delighted smile flashed onto his face.
Armand De La Fontaine: Wonderful choice! Good game, my Russian friend. It was a good show of possibility but I assure you that you are not quite ready to play, maybe another time. Oh, as for the gang, I am just being pragmatic like I was with you so many years ago. You forget that once, you were the enemy. Au revoir!
And with that, Armand left Jack to call off his troops and to tell Preecha to let the transport go through...That seemed like forever ago now. The Wave had warped his perception of time as well as his perception of reality. Everything before The Wave seems like a phantom limb to his old person, to the whole world in general. Instead of being a real memory, it seemed implanted or even more so like a story that was once told to him.
He walked on as he continued to spot things that didn't leave much shock and awe in him any more. A mugging here and there, people yelling to each other at a store front, someone ripping off someone else, and the uprising of the street-corner karate joint. The last one was a phenomenon that hadn't been seen since the 80's where Ralph Macchio was king and Karate Kid had come out in theatres. Now-a-days it was because rich white kids needed a stupid way to defend themselves so they willingly went to some half-trained bum and let him over charge them to basically keep his studio clean with maybe some chops and kicks here and there to make them feel like they were progressing.
Preecha could hardly remember the last time he was in a real gym, training hard, letting the world melt away. All he remembered when he looked into the joints they had around him were the WHAM BAM SLAMS of sparing and sandbags. It all seemed like a big blur of concentration, a karate kid styled montage of one moment to the next, as if when he was training, he was strictly entering another world that paused when he was away and resumed when he returned. Now it seemed like he was forever outside it after the words Armand spoke to him the last time he was in one...before that world paused for the final time...“We have company...”
Passing the current rip off studio, Preecha noticed a truly strange sight. Something that stood out vibrantly among the grey air of disappointment and defeat. A small girl in a blue dress, possibly eleven, running around and laughing; closely followed by her friends. Such a delightful spirit to all of them. Seeing the smile was almost rejuvenating to Preecha as all he had seen for a while was depression and people who had given up. It made him think for a moment that a future of hope wasn't completely lost...But then that smell of sulfur returned, this time stronger than ever. He looked around, trying to see where it could have been coming from but there was too much traffic going through to pin-point the source. But the fighter noticed that others were covering their noses and mouths, so he wasn't the only one noticing the violently potent stink.
He turned back to see that the young girl was all the way up the sidewalk, crossing the street where there was a few different notable buildings including a bank. Her gayness was still radiant and infectious from even so far away. But suddenly the sulfuric cloud was stronger than ever as he felt a breeze flow through when a truck with a tank in the carriage barely missed him. It had swerved onto the sidewalk at top speed, zooming past those who managed to jump out of the way, scraping by polls and crashing through signs until it veered back onto the street and straight into the bank after the passengers leaped out.
Colliding into the brick building, the truck exploded, sending the smell that had been lingering all day into a giant wave through out the whole block. Smoke consumed the street-corner as everyone ran in the opposite direction. Preecha stood, wide eyed for a moment before pushing his way through the panic of people until he was on the corner. He watched as multiple men in gas masks with automatic weapons raced into the grey cloud. Just on the edge of the chaos was the little girl lying on her side, not moving, no sign of her friends. Preecha hurried over and dropped to his knees to turn her over in order to check to see if she was okay but the body was limp and there was no signs of breathing. His heart sank.
The fighter didn't realize but a groan escaped from him as tears began to run done his face. The hope inside him was cracking again. The good thing, the one, simple good thing was blown out of existence by the continuous bad thing. By the never ending chaos. By The Wave! It was just like everywhere else. It was just like Austin. It all flashed back into Preecha's head in violent pulses. The cartel raiding the night club, the Russians blockading the police, the endless slaughtering of all the other employees he had come to know after three or four years working there, the endless bullet shells laying everywhere when him and Armand finally arrive after leaving the gym...That hopeless, helpless feeling of never ending running as it felt like the whole world was crashing down at once without so much as a life boat to look forward to. Eventually the running slowed down to a crawl...crawling around Chicago, trying to lay low. And now this. Curse God and die.
Preecha, with a face red from the tears and the rage, looked up from the lifeless young body and watched the smoke continue to poor out. He reached into his jacket and pulled out a Desert Eagle, which was the exact reason he didn't take off the jacket in the first place. He got off his knees and walked into the darkness. There were several shots fired through the smoke, no one really able to see anything until the smoke had thinned out a bit. When it did, what was there to see was four dead men on the ground with either a chunk of head missing or gaping holes left in their bloody bodies. As well as Preecha pointing his gun at the last man standing. The masked thief dropped his bag and fell to his knees as he held up his hands and begged for his life, but too bad for him, he was dealing with our hearing impaired friend today. Preecha pulled the trigger. It was all silence for him as the gun whipped back with chaotic force and the bullet ripped through the air at an invisible speed, taking a part of the robber with it.
Preecha was breathing heavily as the smoke occupied some space in his lungs. He coughed as he ran out of the building and down the street, trying to get away from the scene as fast as possible. It was at that moment that he decided that The Wave wasn't going to beat him. He refused to let it take lives so freely and carelessly as if they didn't mean anything to anybody. Chicago was not going to be another Austin. He was going to stand and fight. He was going to clear city of what took it in the night. Over all the roaring, the booming and the crackling, Preecha was going to bring back the Silence...
He started without even telling Armand. He would dawn a half face-mask and travel the city through the dark recesses much like Bonnie did until he found it was too difficult to avoid confrontation on ground level. He would end up getting in constant fights with grunts, sometimes getting ambushed and barely making it out. He learned to travel from on high, from roof top to roof top. Learning the city from a bird's eye view as well as discovering his own abilities; jumping from one platform to another. He would carefully pick out a goon who would travel alone or who was harassing an innocent citizen and then swoop in from on high and send the bastard to the emergency room.
It didn't take Armand long at all to find out and soon it became more of an operation than radical vigilante justice. Armand still had connections and so once in a while he would hear a rumor of gang activity and send Preecha to investigate. It was during one of these investigations that Preecha happened upon Bonnie Blue. At first he thought his eyes had deceived him, but as soon as he saw her from up close, there was no way he could question running into an old sparring partner, not knowing at the time it was his mask dawning that brought her to him.
After meeting up again, Preecha brought Bonnie to Armand's base of operations: An abandoned church...Not many people really bothered keeping up the faith after everything happened, so Armand threw down a flag, bought a couple of generators and set up shop. It almost made him excited as he felt he was returning to how it all began. Restarting to build from the ground up. For once, he felt young again.
Upon seeing Armand again after so long, Bonnie gave the ol' bastard a hug, something she had promised him way back and he had not forgotten. Being that Armand could hear, unlike Preecha, Bonnie returned to a more talkative state as the three had a lot to catch up on with each other.
Armand De La Fontaine: Ah, Bonnie. Your presences makes me comme un poisson dans l'eau! I thought I would never see a friendly face again! Avoir une bonne gueule! And as you know, Preecha himself lacks such a face. Haha! I kid, my deaf friend!
Preecha took notice that this is the most energetic Armand had been since arriving to his new home. Armand had mostly become reclusive and paranoid as he was apprehensive at almost every corner. But at this very moment it was like nothing had changed.
Bonnie looked around as she observed the makeshift set up within the former home of faith. Connected to the generators were several computers, some showing surveillance while others seemed to run code and showed a skewed angle which she eventually realized came from Preecha's mask.
Bonnie Blue: How'd you boys manage to get your hands on this military-grade bargain?
Armand De La Fontaine: Would it be enough to say it fell off the back of a truck?
Bonnie looked at him with glance of comic disapproval as the former night club owner chuckled.
Armand De La Fontaine: I owe it to certain people that it remains a secret. I hope you excuse the secrecy. It isn't that I don't trust you; it just isn't my right to say. In these times, doing right by other people means sometimes keeping them in the shadows.
Bonnie seemed a little perturbed by the sudden reservedness of someone she felt had more than enough reason to trust her but time had changed a lot and she couldn't entirely blame Armand.
Armand De La Fontaine: So, what have you been up to, my dear?
Bonnie Blue: Working with some friends. Getting into some big things.
Her response seemed just as reserved if not more so than Armand which sent a bad jolt through his back as his paranoia and exhaustion began to creep through, despite his best intentions.
Armand De La Fontaine: Oh really? Mind elaborating?...
Bonnie was put off a little by the question and peered at Armand with a questioning glance.
Bonnie Blue: I guess it's like you said. I owe it to certain people to keep that secret.
There was a moment of silence between the two before Preecha stepped in and gave Armand a slight push kick, not wanting to have the situation drill any deeper. Armand turned to look at his deaf compatriot who nodded towards the computer.
Armand De La Fontaine: Indeed...
Armand took a seat and swiveled towards the monitors, shifting through documents.
Armand De La Fontaine: What do you know about the White Lotus Triad...
Bonnie Blue: Not too much besides some common knowledge around these parts. Ran by someone they call the “Mountain Master” no idea who that is but he has three people under him running the day to day. Usual syndicate activity, extortion, trafficking, gambling, and so on.
Armand De La Fontaine: Right, The Wave did them a bit of damage, so they had to regain some grown since then. We are lucky in that since. Might not be so hard to get through the cracks in that instance. Had this been ever three or four months ago, we would be looking at mission impossible right here.
Bonnie Blue: Hey now. What you mean by that? What mission 're you yammering on about?
Armand interlaced his fingers together and placed his elbows on the desk, staring into a single document.
Armand De La Fontaine: My apologies, Ms. Blue. I'm gourmande comme un cha. Feel free to join us or not but, tonight, before we ran into you, we were looking into some news that the White Lotus was receiving an important shipment. So important in fact, that the leaders are only trusting a few of their crew under the supervision of Zhong Huan, their enforcer. Might be to our advantage, might not be, but if it needs a sort of security clearance to see, then I am interested in seeing what these fuckers have coming to them!
After further discussion, it was mentioned by Preecha (sign language of course, though I will spare the tedious detail for now) that he mentioned to get a small bit of info, mainly location. The delivery was supposed to take place at a warehouse a good distance out of town, almost in a pseudo-rural area surrounded by hills and valleys.
Before the conversation went any further, Bonnie broke off just for a moment to contact Phantasm that she had found the vigilante and that he wouldn't believe who it was...And indeed he didn't as he claimed we was chasing the vigilante that very moment...Confused by this statement, Bonnie shook it off and assured herself that Polar had it under control and that what she was currently dealing with might even help in the long run if it is as important as Armand thinks it to be. After returning to the discussion with Preecha and Armand, they discussed their strategy, trying to work out as soon as possible what they planned to do when the package arrived. Once everything was said and done, Armand handed Bonnie an ear piece so they could communicate right before Preecha and her headed out with Armand manning the surveillance.
Upon arriving, Bonnie and Preecha hid out on the hills, peering through binoculars to view as things continued to unfold. They saw in the distance as a suspiciously beaten up U-haul moving truck sped through, on course with the warehouse. Once it was close enough, it could be seen that the transport was managed by a group of roughneck mercenaries who stepped out with an itinerary of assault rifles. They were met with a group of equally armed men and specifically well dressed one at the forefront whom they presumed to be Zhong.
Preecha and Bonnie waited as a giant crate was pulled out of the truck and brought forth to the Triad members. A few words were exchanged before Zhong signaled for one of his men to hand of a briefcase they had been holding onto through the entire duration of the meeting. It was handed to one of the mercenaries to the side who opened it, observed the contents then nodded to the leader who turned to the triad with a moment of silence before they all hoped into the truck and hurried off.
Once the mercenaries were out of site, Zhong signaled for his men to bring the crate inside. Once they had all entered the warehouse, that is when Bonnie and Preecha moved down from the hill and to the warehouse. They halted a few meters out as Preecha pulled out a grenade launcher. He loaded three grenades in and fired off one by one through the windows. Pure white smoke began to build up as Bonnie could hear commotion stirring from inside. Both looked to each other and nodded before splitting. Preecha approaching the set of windows he shot through and Bonnie going around the back.
The deaf fighter threw up a grappling hook, latched onto the broken window and started climbing. As soon as he reached the top, he waited a moment before taking a mirror out of his pocket and extending the handle to three feet. He holds it over the window as he tries to see the conditions inside before dropping in. The mirror not being shot instantly was a good sign that the smoke grenades were doing their job and no one managed to escape the inhibitor. He leaned into the window and, avoiding the broken glass, dropped down into the smokey room.
Before any further action, Preecha pressed a button on the side of his goggles, activating the sound detection program that alerted him to what direction a noise was coming from. With this on, he continued through the fog sure that the men would try to refrain from firing until their vision was cleared, as to not hit a partner by accident. Preecha took advantage of this and slowly followed one set of foot steps until he was right behind his target then quickly knocked them out with a roundhouse kick. There were a signal of a louder thud but before Preecha turned to address it, a bit of writing appeared at the bottom of his interface. “Don't worry, Bonnie is in. She took down a big guy. Preecha continued this tactic a few more times, knocking out one, two, three grunts as he continued to see thud after thud appear on his goggles until at one moment he was following appear of footsteps and was about to repeat the same move when he hit a space in the smoke as it began to thin out and saw it was Bonnie.
Bonnie seemed a little surprised he had managed to sneak up on here but quickly smiled it off before pointing behind Preecha. Upon turning around, they saw two other men as they stood in front of Zhong. Preecha quickly pulled out his Desert Eagle and Bonnie instinctually activated her time distortion which upon further observation, she noticed that Preecha appeared to be moving at normal speed...Before they even made an attempt to charge the White Lotus members, all three men threw down a smoke screen of their own before seeming disappearing into thin air, despite having been slowed down, almost as if they had actually vanished into the night. Releasing out of time distortion, Bonnie tried her best to search for the remaining members but Armand rung out in her ear.
Bonnie Blue: Where are they?!?
Armand De La Fontaine: Forget it, Bonnie. It's Chinatown...
Preecha, having holstered his pistol, walked over to the giant crate that was leaning up against the wall at an angle. The box having already been opened, Preecha tossed the lid to the side, revealing a giant, high-tech, cryogenic container and on the inside was a blonde haired man wearing a red leather jacket and black muscle shirt and jeans underneath.
Bonnie Blue: Uhhh...We went through all this for...a dead guy?...
Armand De La Fontaine: I...am beyond confused...
But upon seeing the man, Preecha suddenly leaped into action, having recognized him from a time before...He search all over the machine for some sign of a way to get the frozen man out of his state of suspended animation...Having no luck, Preecha pulled out his pistol and was ready to shoot the damn thing before Bonnie stepped in and told Preecha to calm down. She pulled her Sonic Impact Wrench aimed it at the contraption.
Bonnie Blue: Well, this sure don't seem like your ordinary crime syndicate tech. Way above their allowance...Weird...Hold on one second.
After a moment of analyzing the machine, Bonnie pressed a button on her Sonic wrench that let out a squeal and after a moment or so, the tech appeared to be reacting as lights lit up and the inside stopped being visible. It took a while but soon the glass opened up and out poured endless steam before a hand reached out and latched onto the side before pulling the rest of him out.
The man stumbled out of the machine, almost falling to the floor if it wasn't for Preecha who was quick to catch him. The man looked up into Preecha's eyes.
Hophni: Oh, it's you again, my friend! It has been too long...
The man looked around, wondering where it was exactly he had woken up.
Hophni: How long, I am not all too sure at the moment...
He gets to his feet and slowly regains his bearings as he continued to look around. He slowly put one foot in front of the other, doing his best to keep balance. Eventually his half-awake gaze landed on Bonnie.
Hophni: Ah! Bonnie! We've met once before! Well...it wasn't us who met...Well, it was but it wasn't. It wasn't the two of us, but it was us in spirit, in a sort of since...
Armand De La Fontaine: What is this guy talking about...
The stranger continued to move around, mumbling to himself...Until one moment, he slaps himself on the forehead and turns back around.
Hophni: Sorry, you must excuse my rudeness, kind of all over the place...I wish you understood how literal that was...Let me introduce myself to you and for those who may be listening...I am Hophni. At least that is one of my names. There is a name a small African tribe in another world calls me that I much more prefer, Para-Pirutseo-Bal. But I won't force that on you, not for the time being anyways. Again sorry, I am all over the place. There is still some of me locked up all over existence at the moment, so I am not all there. It is a terrible feeling. Like when you wake up and there is still parts of your body that don't want to move...Really it is terrible...
Both Bonnie and Preecha stared at Hophni with their jaws dropped, with no real idea what to reply with besides silence...
Armand De La Fontaine: Wait...what the fuck did he just say?!
