28th April 2071
[no time stamp]
As a bonus to a good thing that happens once in a while, Kiki also could help me out with finding our suspect…weird enough, when I showed her the people of our place she recognized Neil.
When I called, he was just as stumped as I was, but being the trainee of an illusionist, I asked her to show me her cam material. Electronics are a lot harder to fool than vision 1.0…
And there we had our winner.
A guy called Gen Wong. Old dude from Chinatown.
Neil and the others said they would check that. I trusted them to handle this, I mean, one guy versus Neil, Glitzy and our merry bunch of misfits?
No way this could go south, right?
I packed my stuff and asked Kiki if she wanted to see my place. She was happy to get out for a bit and so we hit the road with my Growler.
Another thing about her is that she has a tendency to attract bad luck. Like, not on a scale we do, but more like stuff that shows that karma has some hours for personal crotch-kicking reserved for you.
We got into a standard police control.
To be honest, I never had that problem. Police around my turf is more like everyone else, small time thugs among small time thugs, if you want.
But how bad could it be? They’d check my nonexistent plate and ID, ask for some bribe and be on their way, or something…
Fuck, was I wrong…
[no time stamp]
You probably know that shit gets real if I need a break between these.
Two cops, a rookie and his veteran partner. They went pretty much by the book for the first minute or so. Kiki looked seriously troubled but I didn’t quite get why.
To double check our story of…quietly riding along the road…they put me into their car, with cuffs and all that shit.
Being a free man, as free as it gets, I might add, this almost made me punch my way out of this, but for the sake of my witch and my conveniently bullet-free guts I kept my cool.
That asshole probably thought I wouldn’t hear him, but they failed to frisk for my audio enhancer and so I’ve heard every word and implication he made.
“Come on, you know how this works. Or do you want to go back to jail?”
Even without that, the groping was a language of its own.
And when he dragged her into the near woods, Crow and I agreed that this would end in blood, screaming and broken bones.
Had to do something about my restrained status first, though.
Steckler’s partner, Engelmann stayed at the car to watch me. Reinforced glass between him and me, doors were, of course, locked. What his partner did, didn’t seem to bother him, so talking some conscience into him was no viable option either.
My mind frantically picked up and threw away ideas until finally, after painful seconds I came up with something solid.
Smoked up and freaked out the cop who thought the back of the car was on fire.
He was no idiot, so he carefully opened the door, weapon drawn.
I kicked the door open and jumped outta there like a bastard offspring of a lightning and quicksilver.
He fired, missed, another bullet got caught by my suit.
Spirits, I love that thing. Lost count how many times it saved my live and I had the feeling today my armor was in for some overtime.
With my hands bound and balance fucked up this had to be quick work. That rookie cop was not a bad fighter, but when I finally managed to make two swift kicks connect, he was down.
What came now, and is sadly also available on ‘Tube, is what my fans call the cuff dance…roughly ten seconds of me struggling to get rid of those stupid piece of shit metal rings around my wrists. Even magically boosted to the level of an angry ork on ’roids it took me forever…not my greatest moment, admittedly.
Steckler came back, tripping on Jazz, weapon in hand and firing.
I had to hunker down, he was calling reinforcements.
Alright, no time for the fancy stuff, no running, no hiding.
I focused, made the world go a lot slower for me and dashed right towards him.
Dodged one or two bullets, another one cracked a rip and I’m sure the sheer force of the hits I took gave me some internal trauma.
But right now, all that mattered was that I got closer with every split second and he couldn’t stop me.
When I closed in, time oozed away in lazy drips, mana gathered along with my rage and urge pound this fucker six feet deep.
Let’s pause here for a minute, ‘cause I feel like you should know one or two important things.
I killed a couple o’ times in self defense. Once for greed’s sake.
The world is a sick, sad place most of the time. I get why people are the way they are. I get why they exploit, cheat, lie and seize opportunities. Some want power, some are ambitious or deluded or just try to get by their way. I take no offense in that.
Sonny and Rico, good example. They use their influence as cops to milk some cash out of desperate people. But at the end of the day? They provided folks who have nowhere else to go with a roof above their heads. There is no real harm in what they do while they cheat the system.
The very low amount of true hatred I got is reserved for guys like Steckler.
Men who think they can fuck the system instead of cheating it. The difference between a rich or confident gambler and a rabid dog, to simplify things a bit.
You know, I don’t kill often because it doesn’t solve problems. If I had snapped Fedderson’s neck back then it would’ve created far more misery than, for the lack of a better word, justice.
But sometimes an asshole just needs to be taken down and that is that.
Walter Steckler crossed a line when he thought he could get away with trying to rape my girl.
Wrong day, wrong guy.
The first blow evened out the cracked rip-score.
Second went straight for his head. Can’t really tell what happened, but what I saw later in the news was pretty fucking scary and impressive.
Never seen my smoke so dense and deadly, shedding feather shaped shadows along my trail and crashing into that cop’s face like a tidal wave.
He was down, a puppet with its strings cut and a blink later I’d dragged him up again. That drekhead was still breathing and I gave him one last chance, one last shot at saving his worthless hide.
He botched it, as you might’ve guessed.
Killed that man in cold blood and I’d do it again.
Now’s usually the time for reflection and such things…wondering if what I did was right yadda yadda.
But there’s nothing to question here. I beat Steckler to death with my bare hands and my world is a better place now. Sure, there will be consequences, but ain’t there always?
Kiki’s safe, we’re on the run.
Familiar ground, I’d say.