He was off, not looking back. His gun had ejected five casings by the time he was past the counter. Three shots had found the sniper, blowing off the man’s arm at the shoulder, sending arterial sprays of hot blood arcing across the diner mirrors and ceiling. Saitoh did what he could to shield the injured waiter and allow him a measure of time to recover, still unsure whether the man’s other, older name still applied, but unwilling to let someone who spared an innocent woman’s life to be cut down needlessly.
“You never brought me that pot of coffee, you asshole,” Saitoh muttered as he pivoted out of the way of a velocity round, sweating as the radiant heat of his armor began increasing. Salamander’s aim was worsening, he realized with no small amount of satisfaction. (Ahh, we’re back to being human again…) The dealer of things far worse than drugs, was cowering behind a taller, muscle bound wreck of human being.
Saitoh took two shots, both of which hit the criminal in the chest. A familiar crackle erupted from beneath the man’s coat, and Saitoh immediately adjusted his aim, knowing that body armor wouldn’t do much for a head with an exit wound the size of a dinner plate in it. The man vanished the second the gun went off and then reappeared inches of where Saitoh was standing, wielding a long knife.
He lunged, the knife curving in an impossibly fast arc. Saitoh shifted to the side and caught the man at the juncture of his meaty arm and elbow, then with a roar, using his attacker’s momentum and his years of teaching police officers kempo, twisted up, then down hard, shattering the larger man’s elbow in the process.
A well placed front kick sent the screaming man back, careening into what was left of a dining booth.
Gasping from the now nearly painful heat of his body armour, Saitoh turned to face Salamander. The glow from his armor was bright as the circuitry began to overheat, illuminating the officer in light. Saitoh staggered and fell to his kees, then reached down and clamped a hand over a knife deep cut in his thigh that went all the way to the femur bone. Blood that flowed heavy and hard in horribly perfect time with the beat of his heart ran down his leg, pooling beneath him.
His armor began to smoke and he felt blisters begin to form on his back and chest as he summoned up the strength to stand up shakily and try to get as close as he could to Salamander , intending to take the bastard out right along with him. “That fucking thing’s gonna blow!” The dealer screamed as Saitoh advanced on him, his AMP-less body shaking violently.
And it did, though not in the way Saitoh had hoped. Despite having a broken elbow, Salamander’s thug was able to heft up the military rifle with one hand, and before anyone could stop him, fire a round directly at the cops glowing chest. Saitoh felt heat, and then as the energy round collided with the white hot body armour, he registered that he was airborne and that his uniform was on fire.
His smoking body landed fifteen feet away, careening off the coffee counter, coming to a rest face down next to a broken pot off freshly brewed coffee.
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Date: 2012-04-11 03:35 am (UTC)“You never brought me that pot of coffee, you asshole,” Saitoh muttered as he pivoted out of the way of a velocity round, sweating as the radiant heat of his armor began increasing. Salamander’s aim was worsening, he realized with no small amount of satisfaction. (Ahh, we’re back to being human again…) The dealer of things far worse than drugs, was cowering behind a taller, muscle bound wreck of human being.
Saitoh took two shots, both of which hit the criminal in the chest. A familiar crackle erupted from beneath the man’s coat, and Saitoh immediately adjusted his aim, knowing that body armor wouldn’t do much for a head with an exit wound the size of a dinner plate in it. The man vanished the second the gun went off and then reappeared inches of where Saitoh was standing, wielding a long knife.
He lunged, the knife curving in an impossibly fast arc. Saitoh shifted to the side and caught the man at the juncture of his meaty arm and elbow, then with a roar, using his attacker’s momentum and his years of teaching police officers kempo, twisted up, then down hard, shattering the larger man’s elbow in the process.
A well placed front kick sent the screaming man back, careening into what was left of a dining booth.
Gasping from the now nearly painful heat of his body armour, Saitoh turned to face Salamander. The glow from his armor was bright as the circuitry began to overheat, illuminating the officer in light. Saitoh staggered and fell to his kees, then reached down and clamped a hand over a knife deep cut in his thigh that went all the way to the femur bone. Blood that flowed heavy and hard in horribly perfect time with the beat of his heart ran down his leg, pooling beneath him.
His armor began to smoke and he felt blisters begin to form on his back and chest as he summoned up the strength to stand up shakily and try to get as close as he could to Salamander , intending to take the bastard out right along with him. “That fucking thing’s gonna blow!” The dealer screamed as Saitoh advanced on him, his AMP-less body shaking violently.
And it did, though not in the way Saitoh had hoped. Despite having a broken elbow, Salamander’s thug was able to heft up the military rifle with one hand, and before anyone could stop him, fire a round directly at the cops glowing chest. Saitoh felt heat, and then as the energy round collided with the white hot body armour, he registered that he was airborne and that his uniform was on fire.
His smoking body landed fifteen feet away, careening off the coffee counter, coming to a rest face down next to a broken pot off freshly brewed coffee.