(Get your damn sidearm activated!) Saitoh mentally ordered, wondering why in the hell Takagi hadn’t taken the hint. Turning on his laser light had been risky; the activation beam emitted a low buzzing sound until the weapon had fully warmed up, but other than winking (perish the thought) or simply announcing (not unlike “KEN” had just done) that there was bigger trouble in this diner than an empty pot of coffee, a bright red pin point of a sighting laser reflecting off the underside of a booth was the best he could do with the time he’d been given.
The black hairs on the back of Saitoh’s neck bristled at the sudden change in the waiter’s tone of voice and body language. An invisible, yet almost palpable note of menace and anger emerged from the slender man who was glaring at him, and then at the suspect that Saitoh had been trailing for nearly five months.
The man was sweating, a tiny bead of sweaty film forming on his upper lip and nose as he started to rise.
(Yes, get the hell out of here…) Saitoh thought, wondering sourly if his powers of mental suggestion might work better on this prick than on Takagi, who was sitting as still as a stone. (We’ll pick you up later, when there are not innocent people nearby).
“Sit down,”
Saitoh sighed and silently turned over his tablet. This time when he typed, no sound came from his rapidly moving fingers.
TXT MSG: ENCRYPTED START MSG: HSAITOH to KWATANABE; SQD3 BACKUP REQUESTED. HAUL YOUR ASSES. END TXT MSG:
Takagi wasn’t armed. At all. Saitoh glanced again quickly, noting with displeasure that there was no hint of body armor beneath her delicately tailored blouse. (Damn fool….she’s not going to last a week if she keeps this up) One of the first rules he hammered into the men and women who joined Squadron 3 was to never leave home without a side arm, a spare and body armor. While annualized attrition rates due to homicide within the police force was at an all-time low (down to 28% from 43% five years before) too many good people were lost because of carelessness.
Saitoh knew all about carelessness. He’d been careless once and that was enough to last several lifetimes.
Saitoh exhaled quietly, pushing down thoughts that would only hinder him at this moment, then twisted slightly, slowly in his seat, so he was in the best possible position to move and move quickly away from the bench. He moved his hand away from the tablet and slid it off the table. Never taking his eyes off of Salamander and “KEN”, still unsure of where the greater menace lay, he reached into his jacket, and initiated the start sequence on his other gun. This time, there was no laser light signal.
“Who the hell do you think you are?”
Saitoh’s eyes, which were definitely on the narrow and slightly beady side of the optical spectrum went wide at the most unlikely of responses. “Saitou Hajime. New Meiji PD. We have you surrounded and we know about Rat.”
(Who the fuck are you?) This was one of many questions that Saitoh intended to ask the Sunshine Diner’s newest employee. Unfortunately, this question would have to wait.
(There!) Saitoh exhaled sharply when Salamander’s arms began to move (Too Fast. He’s a user!) and move quickly towards what he knew were going to be weapons. He saw a holster appear (Semi-Automatics) and reached up and hit the activation switch on his body armor, then crouched, hefted up his RK-RB12 and started pressing the trigger, aiming right for the middle of his prime suspect’s head.
“Oi, what’s going on out here?” Saitoh cursed at the sound of someone pushing open the door that led to the diner’s kitchen. It was one of the busboys, a gawky kid with serious headgear who was midway through Senior High School.
“GET DOWN!” He ordered, his deep voice ringing with authority, unable to dare turning his head, as he felt a strong electromagnetic current move through the Poly-Kevlar armor, creating a faint blue-white energy field beneath his uniform. While the inactivated armor was somewhat effective a stabbing or other slow moving melee weapon, high velocity and energy rounds required something more.
The next one and a half seconds were, as usual, a blur. He felt the air displacement before he heard the whine and pop of a semi –automatic weapon being discharged, the first bullet missing “KEN’s red head by less than two inches. Saitoh returned fire a millisecond later, but with AMP a millisecond was an eternity. Salamander blurred, his body moving so fast Saitoh could barely track him. He’d tried to anticipate this, but was only human (which in this day and time was becoming a liability) and was able to compensate only enough to ensure that Salamander was shot in the upper shoulder rather than through the forehead.
Part 1
The black hairs on the back of Saitoh’s neck bristled at the sudden change in the waiter’s tone of voice and body language. An invisible, yet almost palpable note of menace and anger emerged from the slender man who was glaring at him, and then at the suspect that Saitoh had been trailing for nearly five months.
The man was sweating, a tiny bead of sweaty film forming on his upper lip and nose as he started to rise.
(Yes, get the hell out of here…) Saitoh thought, wondering sourly if his powers of mental suggestion might work better on this prick than on Takagi, who was sitting as still as a stone. (We’ll pick you up later, when there are not innocent people nearby).
“Sit down,”
Saitoh sighed and silently turned over his tablet. This time when he typed, no sound came from his rapidly moving fingers.
TXT MSG: ENCRYPTED
START MSG: HSAITOH to KWATANABE; SQD3
BACKUP REQUESTED. HAUL YOUR ASSES.
END TXT MSG:
Takagi wasn’t armed. At all. Saitoh glanced again quickly, noting with displeasure that there was no hint of body armor beneath her delicately tailored blouse. (Damn fool….she’s not going to last a week if she keeps this up) One of the first rules he hammered into the men and women who joined Squadron 3 was to never leave home without a side arm, a spare and body armor. While annualized attrition rates due to homicide within the police force was at an all-time low (down to 28% from 43% five years before) too many good people were lost because of carelessness.
Saitoh knew all about carelessness. He’d been careless once and that was enough to last several lifetimes.
Saitoh exhaled quietly, pushing down thoughts that would only hinder him at this moment, then twisted slightly, slowly in his seat, so he was in the best possible position to move and move quickly away from the bench. He moved his hand away from the tablet and slid it off the table. Never taking his eyes off of Salamander and “KEN”, still unsure of where the greater menace lay, he reached into his jacket, and initiated the start sequence on his other gun. This time, there was no laser light signal.
“Who the hell do you think you are?”
Saitoh’s eyes, which were definitely on the narrow and slightly beady side of the optical spectrum went wide at the most unlikely of responses. “Saitou Hajime. New Meiji PD. We have you surrounded and we know about Rat.”
(Who the fuck are you?) This was one of many questions that Saitoh intended to ask the Sunshine Diner’s newest employee. Unfortunately, this question would have to wait.
(There!) Saitoh exhaled sharply when Salamander’s arms began to move (Too Fast. He’s a user!) and move quickly towards what he knew were going to be weapons. He saw a holster appear (Semi-Automatics) and reached up and hit the activation switch on his body armor, then crouched, hefted up his RK-RB12 and started pressing the trigger, aiming right for the middle of his prime suspect’s head.
“Oi, what’s going on out here?” Saitoh cursed at the sound of someone pushing open the door that led to the diner’s kitchen. It was one of the busboys, a gawky kid with serious headgear who was midway through Senior High School.
“GET DOWN!” He ordered, his deep voice ringing with authority, unable to dare turning his head, as he felt a strong electromagnetic current move through the Poly-Kevlar armor, creating a faint blue-white energy field beneath his uniform. While the inactivated armor was somewhat effective a stabbing or other slow moving melee weapon, high velocity and energy rounds required something more.
The next one and a half seconds were, as usual, a blur. He felt the air displacement before he heard the whine and pop of a semi –automatic weapon being discharged, the first bullet missing “KEN’s red head by less than two inches. Saitoh returned fire a millisecond later, but with AMP a millisecond was an eternity. Salamander blurred, his body moving so fast Saitoh could barely track him. He’d tried to anticipate this, but was only human (which in this day and time was becoming a liability) and was able to compensate only enough to ensure that Salamander was shot in the upper shoulder rather than through the forehead.