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Our Writing
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| Written: 08/20/2004 | | Submitted: 10/31/2004 | | Length: 10520 (words) | | Razor's Edge | | By: M. T. Dremer
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The
three figures stood in the silence staring at one another, none willing to move
as the fluorescent lights buzzed overhead. Two of the figures stood together; a
man holding a woman around the throat. He wore thick grey fatigues, flack
jacket and a rolled up ski mask on top of his graying hair. The woman wore a
slim black grey body suit adorned with support straps that held up a variety of
weapons and a belt loaded down with numerous bulging pockets; though she could
reach none of her many weapons as the barrel of a gun dug into her back.
“Pull
the trigger, kill us all and see if any of your leaders bat an eyelash.” The
man in the fatigues yelled.
The
third figure stood several feet away, another man, holding a small pistol aimed
at the pair. He wore a suit similar to the woman’s, though his was obviously
designed for a person of larger build and several more weapons lined his arms
and boots.
“Do
it Razor!” The man in fatigues barked.
The
silencer was in place, the clip was loaded and the trigger pushed against
Razor’s finger, eager to respond at the slightest command. Sweat was quickly
soaking into his bandana and his muscles began to twitch from retaining the
same position for so long.
“Does
she really mean that much to you, the man who has forsaken everything but his
duty?”
The
man’s voice was rough but high and each shout had a sharp snap to it that
bounced off the grey marble walls.
“Answer
me!”
“Do
it Razor, forget about me, I know full well the parameters of our mission.” The
woman’s deep and feminine voice came to his ears.
Razor
began to squeeze the trigger with a slow and steady movement just short of
firing.
“You’re
a marksman, this should be an easy shot regardless of who is holding who,” the
rough voice came again.
The
sound of an alarm was muffled through the grey walls.
The
trigger eased further back, enough this time, leading through with the rough
click under his fingers. With little more than a poof, the bullet left the barrel,
muffled by the silencer before it broke the air and blasted forward in a blur.
The
metal struck skin, muscle and finally bone in an eruption of red.
The
man in fatigues stood in shock before he reached up and felt the blood as it
poured from the hole in his forehead. Without enough time to react, he fell
backwards, releasing his grip from the woman.
“Took
you long enough,” the woman’s voice said as the body of the other man made a
thud on the ground.
“I
have to save you so often I was considering letting him kill you.” Razor said
as he replaced his pistol in a small holster at his hip.
“Very
funny, if you hadn’t tripped the alarm, they never would have found me.”
“For
the last time Zee, I didn’t trip that alarm.” His voice was sharp but carried with
it a mixture of sarcasm and annoyance, a tone that could only come from years
of dealing with tight officials and madmen.
“Well
if you didn’t trip the alarm then someone else is trying to get in this
building.”
“Could
our pal Jaimbers have set it off?” Razor said as he indicated the body on the
ground, still bleeding profusely from the bullet wound.
“He’s
not stupid enough to set off an alarm, nor did he put up as much fight as I
would have expected from someone of his caliber,” Zee replied as she too
surveyed the corpse.
“You
forget who was behind this gun,” Razor said as he patted his gun holster.
Zee
turned her attention back to him, a small smile appearing at the corner of her
mouth.
“You’re
good Razor, but Jaimbers was a legend.”
“People
will be saying the same thing about me
ten years from now,” Razor said with a smirk.
A
loud bang broke up their conversation as a series of guards wearing riot gear
came storming through into the surrounding rooms, dangerously close their
current location.
Razor
looked quickly over at Zee.
“Do
we abort?”
“We’ve
risked too much to abort now; we have to finish the job.”
A
faint ringing noise reached Razor’s ear and he carefully brought his hand up to
touch the tiny black object resting in his ear.
“I
read you,” he said into the tiny radio.
“What
are you trying to do, alert the whole building to what we are doing?” A
scrambled voice came over the speaker in his ear.
“Someone
else tripped that alarm and I had to... dispose of an old friend,” Razor
replied.
“Well
hurry up and get on with it, the police will be there in no time.”
“Gosh
I thought the alarm meant it was lunch time,” Razor said sarcastically.
“Don’t
shit with me Razor, get the job done or it will be your ass!” The voice then
cut off abruptly.
“So?”
Zee asked as she moved closer.
Razor’s
eyes moved down the hallway to a door that led to the stairs.
“We’re
off to see the wizard.”
The
police had been unsuccessful in locating the perpetrator of the alarm and
wasted much of their time searching the ground floors, allowing Razor and Zee
enough time to reach the twentieth floor. However the incident had caused
security to grow tighter and riot guards were now patrolling the halls.
“What’s
the time?” Zee said as she watched a guard walk cluelessly past their position.
“Two
hundred hours.”
“The
entry point to the next flight of stairs is blocked.” Zee indicated two burly
men wearing black suits, standing at attention before the door.
“Police?”
“No,
the wizard’s flying monkeys, no doubt he got wind of us and called for his own
lackeys.”
“It
was the witch who had flying monkeys not the wizard,” Razor corrected.
Zee
turned around and stared quizzically at him.
“Then
what did the wizard have?”
“Green
midgets I think.”
“I
thought that was Charlie and the chocolate factory.”
“That
was orange midgets.”
“Why
do these weird guys surround themselves with midgets anyway?”
“I
don’t know but our monkeys are moving.”
The
black suited men began conversing and one dispatched.
“Okay
Razor, do what you do best.”
Razor
moved past her and slid in a crouch along the wall.
The
riot guards had currently left the area, leaving just the one black suited man
standing by the only entrance to the top levels.
Razor
moved forward along the wall, still concealed by the shadows. It would be a
leap to reach the man but he could make it.
When
the man covered his face to cough, Razor shot swiftly from the shadows, snaked
his arm around his neck and twisted until he heard a sickening pop.
The
body went instantly limp and Razor caught it and moved him quickly back into
the shadows.
“Move,”
he hissed. Zee suddenly sprang from a concealed door and sprinted over to the
next level of stairs.
“It’s
fixed to set the alarm if someone opens it,” she said as she knelt down near the
door handle.
Razor
moved against the wall and held his pistol at the ready, his eyes darting down
each corridor.
“Can
you bypass it?”
“Has
there ever been one I couldn’t?”
Razor
let out a faint smile but it quickly faded as he pointed his gun at a security
camera and fired.
“Careful,
do you want to attract more attention?”
“It’s
better they see a malfunctioning camera than us; just make it quick.”
Zee
pulled out a series of long metal wires from a pouch on her belt and got to
work on the door.
The
faint sound of footsteps reached Razor’s ears and he darted across the hall,
flattening himself against the cold marble.
“Get
it open, I’ll take care of this.” He then moved swiftly down the hallway his
back bent slightly and the pistol pointed towards the ground.
When
he reached an intersection of halls he caught sight of the source. The second
guard in black was walking straight toward him, holding a bag of potato chips.
Razor
quickly ducked down the left hallway and pressed his back against another wall.
His hand then shot to his leg where he unsheathed a hunting knife.
“What
the?” A deep voice came from the hall. The second guard had just spotted Zee
and already Razor heard his footsteps picking up speed.
“Security,
I need backup on level, AH!”
Razor
sprang into action, sweeping his leg out, his foot crashing into the burly man’s
shin, sending him tumbling forward.
A
loud crack echoed through the hallway as the guard’s radio hit the ground and
skidded down the hallway towards Zee.
Razor
wasted no time as he slipped the knife into the man’s back. He had moved so
quickly and accurately that the only sound had been the crashing of the small
radio on the floor.
Razor
quickly dragged the body into a nearby darkened room and locked the door.
When
he reached Zee, he had just finished cleaning the blood from his hunting knife.
“You
were careless that time,” she said as she kicked the remnants of the radio
towards him.
“Don’t
I get any credit for saving the potato chips?” Razor held up the tiny yellow
bag and shook it with a noisy crinkle.
“You
can’t call for back up on a potato chip; the radio should have been your first
priority.” Zee moved forward and snatched the bag from Razor’s hand before
stuffing it into a nearby garbage can.
“I
still beat you didn’t I?”
Zee
gave him a disapproving look and pushed the door to the stairs open.
“Fine,
I suppose I’ll pay for dinner next time,” Razor conceded.
Zee
smiled and together they entered the next flight of stairs, the alarm rearming
itself as the door slid shut behind them.
The
thick rubber boots muffled their footsteps on the polished tile steps and Zee
led the way up the flight of stairs.
“We’re
going to have to speed this up if we are going to be at the extraction point in
time,” Razor said as he reloaded his pistol.
“That
run in with Jaimbers definitely slowed us down, but we need only one file. It
will be as simple as checking out a book from the library.”
They
reached the end of the stairs and found themselves staring at a dark wooden
door that seemed oddly out of place.
“Get
the wire cam ready,” Zee said as she laid down next to the door.
Razor
reached into one of his own belt pouches and pulled out a thin black wire.
Zee
took out a flat grey object that vaguely resembled a remote control with a
small drill attached to the end where the infrared belonged.
A
faint humming noise reached Razor’s ears as Zee switched the device on.
“Remember
not to drill into someone’s foot; nearly killed us that time you bored into the
guards big toe.”
“How
was I supposed to know he was standing there? Besides, this is a door job, not
the floor,” Zee replied sharply as she aligned the drill. She then placed the
spinning drill against the lower right panel of the door and a light buzzing sound
reached Razor’s ears.
Razor
waited patiently until she had broken through, then switched places with her
and began feeding the wire through; which was connected to a small LCD not
unlike a palm computer.
After
Razor was satisfied with the depth of the wire, he pushed one of the buttons
below the screen and an image suddenly lit up the dark corridor.
“How
many?” Zee whispered.
“Ten.”
“How
many do you think you can get?”
“I’d
say half… at the least.”
“Go
for it.” Zee then pulled out her own pistol and quickly screwed on a silencer.
“I’ve got your back.”
Razor
turned his attention back to the LCD and began moving the camera with a simple
set of arrow controls. The image quickly focused on a single man, dressed in
riot gear much like the police they had encountered earlier, and armed with a
rifle.
“Sleep
tight,” Razor said with a smile.
Razor
hit a different button, a quick swishing noise followed and the man in the
image fell to the floor instantly.
“What
happened to Bill?” Razor said in a mock impression of the fumbling men inside.
Another man strolled into the image, staring down at his fallen comrade. The
second man then fell just as fast as the first.
“Jesus,
what’s going on?” Razor continued to supply the voices for the frightened men
as he picked them off one at a time until the remaining men finally decided to
hide from the view of the door.
“Ha!
That’s eight, not as good as the warehouse mission, but not shabby either.”
Razor
quickly withdrew the wire and together, he and Zee took their positions on the
stairs.
The
first man came out of the door tentatively, his rifle pointed to the ground.
Razor
and Zee dispatched him quickly with two well placed shots through the heart and
head.
The
second man was more reluctant to leave the room and Razor moved in swiftly,
sending one bullet through the man’s hand, which had been trying to call for
help on the radio, and another bullet through his lungs.
“Are
you sure there was only ten?”
Razor
looked up at Zee as she entered the room, scanning her surroundings with a keen
eye.
“Of
course.”
“Let’s
just finish this as fast as we can.” Zee replaced her pistol in its holster and
moved towards a door to the right of the furniture.
The
walls of the room were covered in dark red wallpaper and oak furnishings,
opposing the cold sterile feel of the rest of the building. Razor moved to
follow Zee, dodging around a large plush couch that matched the chairs and
misplaced decorum.
“Do
you think the wizard is here?” She said as she began to drill into the second
door.
“I
doubt it; a man of his caliber would probably hide up in the Bahamas or something. Places like this are nothing but decoys. But we aren’t paid to
find him, just the file,” Razor replied as his eyes continued to scan the
silent room.
Zee
continued to drill but it was obvious her mind was elsewhere.
“Yeah,
but it is only a matter of time until we are sent to find him. I mean the file
we are coming for is evidence, once we have that then…”
She
stopped as the drill broke through.
“I
know what you mean, but we should discuss it later,” Razor whispered as he took
his position with the wire camera.
Zee
patrolled the room uncomfortably, her gun at the ready.
“It’s
empty,” Razor said dumbfounded.
“What?”
Zee came to his side and stared at the empty room depicted on the LCD.
“This
doesn’t seem right, check for an alarm,” Razor said before moving out of the
way for Zee.
“There
is no sign of one.” She then took out another gadget and held it close to the
door handle. “I don’t like this, what if someone is waiting just out of sight?”
“Wouldn’t
they have come to the aide of their comrades?” Razor asked, his voice low.
“Not
if the room is sound proofed… or their orders are strict in guarding what is in
there.” She gave Razor a concerned look.
“We’ll
have to gas it,” Razor replied.
Zee
nodded and together they pulled out a set of gas masks and quickly sealed them
on.
Razor
then moved to the door and slipped a different kind of tubing through the hole.
“Go,”
Razor’s voice was muffled through the rubber of the mask, but Zee responded
without delay. She reached behind her belt and unhooked a small, compressed air
tank, barely larger than an aerosol can, and attached the tube to a small opening.
Slowly and precisely, she turned the nozzle, a faint hissing noise growing with
each turn.
For
a while they waited in silence, neither moving or breathing as the tiny tank
expelled its gas into the adjoining room.
“I
think that is long enough.” Razor moved to take the tube out but Zee quickly
stopped him.
“Wait,
just a little longer.”
Her
eyes were tinted orange from the mask’s lenses but Razor could see the same
intuition in them.
He
nodded and moved his hand away from the tube.
Finally
two loud thumps issued from behind the door and Razor quickly reinserted the
wire camera. Two bodies now lay on the floor, sprawled out from either side of
the only exit.
“Nice,”
he said as he patted Zee’s shoulder, however as he stared at the misty room, a
series of flickering red lines could be seen crossing through the air.
“Dammit!”
He cursed.
Zee
moved to his side and understood the moment she saw the lasers.
“We’ll
have to take the whole hard drive and run before they can respond.”
“No,
it would slow us down, and I’m sure there are security measures against taking
it,” Zee replied. “We go as planned.”
“Are
you sure?”
Zee
nodded, then slowly pushed open the door.
“Stay
back and cover me, this will take a while.” She then slipped inside and shut
the door behind her.
Razor
stood for a moment before removing his gas mask. He had great respect for Zee
and he knew, if anyone could get passed the lasers, it was her.
He
moved back through the room and began concealing the bodies where he could
manage.
Inside
the main office Zee stood before a mesh of red lasers, all clearly visible from
the effects of the lingering gasses.
The
two guards snored loudly from her left and right. They wouldn’t be asleep for
long.
She
took a deep breath inside the mask and moved forward.
The
first set of lasers was all vertical allowing her to slip easily through
sideways. The second set was horizontal, and she dropped to the floor and
carefully crawled under them.
The
third set became far more complex; a large mixture of both resulting in a grid
pattern.
Zee
moved against the wall and laid down on her back. The gap from the sensor to
the wall was just enough as she shimmied her way through like a snake.
However
the final set was a complete mish mash of lasers, all following no pattern or
leaving any space in between.
Zee
knelt down and began rummaging in the many pockets on her belt. One by one she
removed six small pyramid shaped objects. Each was no bigger than a cell phone
and made of a hard plastic material, polished to a fine sheen. The only oddity
in the design was a small ball sitting on the point of the pyramid. It was made
of glass and when she looked closely at it, five tiny lenses could be seen just
beneath the surface.
Zee
set one down and rotated its circular head. A laser quickly shot forth from the
black surface and hit the opposite wall. She then manipulated the sight until
the laser was shining directly at the end of one of the sensors.
The
laser pyramid began flashing different colors until arriving at green.
She
then sat it gently on the polished floor, being careful not to move the sight.
Once on the ground the tiny pyramid shot out a second laser, this time pointed
at the other end of the same sensor. The path had been completed and Zee
carefully blocked the original laser.
No
alarm was triggered and she quickly began setting up the other pyramids.
Back
in the furnished room, Razor had just dragged the last body out and into a
nearby closet. If someone were to enter now, they would have no idea that ten
men had been disabled only a few minutes earlier.
A
loud static noise caused Razor to jump slightly.
“Section
one, respond,” a voice reached his ears.
Razor
ran from hidden body to hidden body in search of the chatter. He eventually
found the small radio in the pocket of the second soldier they had been forced
to kill.
He
snatched up the device and jammed the button with his thumb.
“What
is it?” He said in a gruff voice.
“Who
is this?” the other voice came back.
“I
keep telling you, we’re fine here, we have it under control.”
The
radio was silent, save for the static.
“Alright,”
the voice said finally.
Razor
quickly smashed the black plastic against the wall.
“Shit.”
He moved to tell Zee but stopped instantly. She couldn’t deal with unnecessary
distractions right now.
He
turned to the entrance and began moving chairs in front of the door. There was
little doubt his impression over the radio had failed and now it was only a
matter of time until troops were breaking the door down. Razor shook his head;
it would be that much harder to reach the extraction point in time.
Zee
had now successfully placed all six of the small pyramids and a large section
of the laser wall was gone.
She
carefully made her way through the gap and reached the computer on the desk.
It
booted up normally, allowing Zee a moment to relax, but when it reached a
password entry screen, it was back to work.
She
plugged in her own palm computer and began cycling through an array of files.
Once she had found the appropriate one, she set it loose on the large PC.
Instantly
a program popped onto the screen and began working furiously to crack the
password.
“Open
up in there,” a voice came.
Razor
had thoroughly barricaded the door, but he knew it would be open soon enough.
Without
hesitation he dropped into a crouch by the door and fed the wire camera through
the hole still left over from Zee’s drill.
A
group of eight men stood outside the door, dressed in the same blue grey
fatigues and ski masks, all carrying the same type of machine gun; AK-47’s.
Razor
frowned as he glanced at a tiny number located in the upper right of his wire
camera LCD; the tranquilizer ammunition was low, but it would still thin the herd;
which is exactly what it did. He managed to down half the group before it was
completely depleted.
He
was especially proud of a shot to the face that had sent one guard over
backwards clawing and grasping the air, invariably dragging two more down the
stairs with him.
However
they were wise to him now and he was rapidly loosing the advantage.
As
fast as he could, he withdrew the camera, slapped his gas mask back on and
opened his own gas canister as far as it would go.
He
left it near the door and took his position behind a nearby couch.
Zee
reached further into the computer’s memory and was beginning to extract files.
Her mission was one file alone, but as she scanned the information before her,
she realized that there was much more here than even she was told.
The
first shock was a set of launch codes and schematics that revealed a new kind
of sonic missile. The second was a set of scanned official papers that directly
linked Zee’s employers with the Wizard.
At
first it seemed a mistake, but there was no denying the signatures, ones she
had seen clearly on her own contract.
She
delved deeper into the information, almost forgetting her mission, focusing too
much on the connections between the DataTech and this Arten organization.
Finally
she came to the requested file; a full layout of Arten’s plans and a series of
codes that would be vital to success in the event of war.
But
why would DataTech conspire with Arten, and what did they hope to gain by
sending in her and Razor?
When
the soldiers finally broke through, Razor realized with disappointment that
they were all wearing gas masks.
“So
that’s how we’re going to play this game.”
Razor
moved into a crawl and shifted his body under the couch. He then lined up the
shot and… beeped loudly.
The
soldiers heard the ringing immediately and he could see their feet gathering
around the couch.
“Dammit
Zee!”
Without
hesitation he took out two pairs of feet with his silenced pistol, but was soon
forced to roll out when the troops opened fire on the seat cushions.
The
stream of bullets followed him until he rolled directly into one of the
soldier’s legs.
The
man was dressed in black grey fatigues and wore a ski mask under the gas
breather.
Both
men drew their weapons, but Razor was faster and sent a bullet through the
rubber mask. He then caught the falling body and used it as a shield as he
scrambled to his feet and opened fire on the remaining soldiers.
He
managed to finish most of them in a few seconds, including several that had
scrambled back up the stairs, but the final man stood away from the crowd,
avoiding his bullets with stealth that none of the others had shown.
The
man glared through the eye holes in his ski mask and the orange lenses of his
breather before dodging another of Razor’s shots.
“I
suppose I get no respect after such an uninspired death?” The man said, his
voice heavily muffled by all his facial gear.
Razor
quickly took cover behind a nearby chair as the man opened fire with his own
AK-47.
“Sure,
lets talk about it,” Razor said as he effortlessly reloaded his pistol. Several
of the bullets whizzed by his head, chipping off large parts of the couch as
Razor ducked lower behind it.
“You
didn’t think I would go down that easy did you?” The voice was rough but high and
somehow familiar despite its distortions.
The
faint ringing that had previously given away Razor’s position came again, but
this time Razor answered the call quickly.
“What
is it!?”
“You’re
not going to believe this, but DataTech and Arten are working together. It
would seem that Arten started dealing its own business against DataTech, the
age old power struggle in partnerships. Apparently we are gathering this
information in order for DataTech to counter the deception,” Zee explained over
the comm. link.
Razor
ducked another stream of bullets and replied.
“So
what, we aren’t paid to determine what is right and wrong.”
“But
wait, there is more. It turns out that the Wizard is in fact two people, the
head of Arten and the head of
DataTech.”
“Great,
there are two wizards, who cares? Scheming leaders aren’t that hard to come
by.”
“You
don’t understand, all the killing, all the damage is just because of a few
bickering men; they are brothers Razor,
just trying to out do each other. You, me, Jaimbers; we are all just pawns in
their sick game.”
Razor
rolled from behind the couch and let off another few rounds. The man dodged
them easily and returned his own fire.
“I
don’t care whose game this is, it pays the bills.”
“This
is needless killing Razor; even you can see that is wrong.”
“Yeah,
well right now a little killing is exactly what I need.”
Razor
pulled one of two grey rectangular grenades from his belt then fitted his left
finger through the pin and pulled. Two metal spikes jutted out from the bottom
of the grenade, but Razor ignored them as he held down a flat button on the
side of the explosive.
“If
it is their game, then I have no quarrels about destroying their property.”
He
then chucked the grenade over handed from behind the chair before hearing a
dull thud across the room.
“Fire
in the hole!”
It
exploded in a flash of white, sending splinters of wood, leather and upholstery
in every direction.
“Alright
Razor, I have the files, let’s move out.”
Razor
didn’t even check to see if the man had survived the blast. He dashed to meet Zee
and together they returned to the stairs and shot for the roof.
Razor
ripped off his gas mask and shouted over his comm. link.
“We
need immediate extraction, repeat, immediate extraction. This is Alpha team at
target zero, zero, one.”
The
air was cold as they stepped out onto the roof, the sound of the fire alarm
blasting up behind them.
“Dammit
Razor, those are clearing grenades, designed to be stuck into walls and debris,
not thrown; you could have been killed.” Zee hissed as she pulled a flare from
her belt.
“You
didn’t see that guy; he was as good as us.”
“Do
you think he was the one who tripped that alarm earlier?”
“It
wouldn’t surprise me. He was dressed like one of them, it would have been easy
to trigger the alarm and finger us.”
“Well
it is behind us now.” Zee smacked the end of the flare and a stream of red fire
shot out like a miniature jet engine. She then held it to the air and waited.
“They
won’t be happy with two alarms tripped in one night,” Razor said as he eyed the
door to the stairs.
“Then
we had better make sure to leave as quickly as possible,” Zee replied.
Razor
checked his thick glowing watch; the time for extraction had passed.
“Dammit,
we missed the window,” he cursed.
“Impossible,
they would still be in the area to see the signal.”
A
loud gunshot whipped through the air and Zee dropped the flare.
“They
would of course, have to be in the area to begin with,” a voice said from the
stairs.
Razor
caught Zee just before she fell and struggled to keep her on her feet.
His
eyes traveled to the voice and he saw the familiar fatigues and ski mask,
though the gas breather was gone now.
“Who
are you!?” Razor barked.
The
man began to laugh, a high merciless laugh that sent chills up Razor’s spine.
“I’m
surprised you haven’t figured it out yet.”
The
man reached up and grabbed hold of the ski mask, but as he pulled it off, Razor
could not believe what he was seeing.
He
now stared into the cold eyes of a dead man: the eyes of Razor Jaimbers.
“Impossible!”
Razor shouted as he held tight to Zee.
“Nothing
is impossible with DataTech and Arten as your personal playgrounds.”
Razor
gritted his teeth and could feel Zee’s breaths becoming shorter, her pulse
strong but flickering.
“How
did you do it? Clones, robots, facial reconstruction? Who was it I murdered
tonight?”
“Oh
that, no more than an insignificant brother, never liked him much anyway; you
did me a favor.”
Razor
quickly drew his gun but Jaimbers was faster and sent several bullets through
the air. Razor felt a stabbing pain in his shoulder and could hear bullets whiz
past his ear as he cringed.
However
it was Zee who took the full force of the shots and she crumpled in Razor’s
arms.
“NO!”
He
cradled her for a moment, letting the tears escape before looking back at
Jaimbers.
“My
brother really was an amateur, I would never have let her live that long.”
Razor
carefully laid Zee back on the roof and got to his feet, ignoring the pain in
his side and the warm blood sticking to the side of his face.
“It
is touching when love blooms on a battlefield, but then again, I wouldn’t know
myself.”
Razor
cocked his gun even though he knew he could not hit Jaimbers; the only man who
had ever out ranked him; the only man who had ever beaten him and the only
other man to earn the title: Razor.
“You
will always be a rookie in my eyes,” Jaimbers laughed. Razor brought his gun up
to fire, only to have it shot from his hand just as quickly.
“You
can’t hope to win Rookie. Your precious extraction will never come. This entire
game with the wizards is my doing!” Jaimbers cackled as he paced slowly around
in circles, Razor at the center.
“You
mean?...”
“Yes,
I am the wizard, the dual entity responsible for the weapons race of DataTech
and Arten. I had been running it with my brother, hence your little wench’s
find, but all along I knew he would be killed; either by you or me. In the end
I alone would be the victor, in control of the most advanced weapon technology
in the world!”
“Seems
like an awful lot of trouble for just a few bombs,” Razor said as his hand
moved slowly towards his belt.
“A
few bombs? You obviously don’t have an understanding of the power these two
drone companies have created. We’re talking explosive semi-automatic weapons,
burrowing warheads and gas so deadly that it can eat through walls faster than
acid.
“Super
villain status, you really shoot for the stars,” Razor grumbled as his hand
closed around a grenade.
“This
goes beyond two companies, beyond a simple enemy, this encompasses total world
domination!”
Jaimbers’
voice had become maddened and spittle flew frequently from his mouth.
“What
about other worlds? Seems like the face rocks on mars are laughing at you,”
Razor said with a crooked smile.
Jaimbers
crushed his fist into Razor’s face, causing him to topple over sideways,
dropping his last grenade. The tiny grey object skidded to a halt next to the
immobile form of Zee.
“You never
took the situation seriously Rookie and that is why I was so easily able to
surpass you.”
Razor
gritted his teeth, his gloved fist clenching under his hunched form.
“Taking the
situation too seriously results in blind judgment,” Razor growled as he lurched
to his feet, sending his fist crashing into Jaimbers’ stomach. A loud grunt
escaped his lips and Razor quickly plowed forward, leading his second fist into
his opponents jaw. However as he attempted a third strike, Jaimbers brought his
hand up and caught Razor’s fist in mid flight.
“Hand to
hand combat was never your strong suit Rookie,” Jaimbers growled, a trickle of
blood seeping from the corner of his mouth. He carefully applied more pressure,
crushing Razor’s fist as he led through with a punch to the stomach.
Again Razor
was on the ground, breathing desperately for air.
“How did a
pathetic worm like you ever achieve the title of Razor?”
“I was the
only one who raised my hand,” Razor said through sporadic breaths.
Jaimbers
ran forward, smashing his boot into Razor’s side.
“Down after
only three hits, what sort of fools is DataTech hiring?” Jaimbers laughed.
Razor
braced his hands behind him and pushed himself back up, so quickly that
Jaimbers hadn’t time to react, and Razor’s foot connected with his groin and
his fist connected with his right temple.
Jaimbers
toppled over instantly, clutching himself in two places at once.
Razor spit
blood on the cringing figure and made his way over to Zee and his stray
grenade. However a boot quickly knocked him off his feet and his head crashed
painfully against the concrete roof.
“No one
will win this battle Rookie,” Jaimbers said as he struggled to his feet.
Razor tried
to think of a sarcastic remark, but his head would not stop spinning and soon
the figure of Jaimbers stood over him.
“At least,
no one will win through simple combat.” He then lifted his AK-47 off his back
and held the barrel to Razor’s battered face.
Razor had
neither the energy nor motivation to stop him.
“Fine, but
make sure my funeral isn’t too flashy, I would hate for people to get the wrong
impression,” Razor replied.
“A clown to
the end; is that really what you want Rookie?”
Razor
closed his eyes, but didn’t respond.
“Very
well.” The trigger eased back slightly, ready to respond at the slightest
touch.
The ring of
the shots echoed in Razor’s ears, but he felt no pain, and a moment later,
Jaimbers’ screams drowned out all other noise.
“Ahh!”
Jaimbers yelled as his bullets shot astray.
Razor’s
eyes shot open and he looked up at Jaimbers who was violently clawing at
something on his ankle. He squinted through his swollen eyes to see his grenade
protruding from Jaimbers’ leg, the metal spikes jutting out the other side.
Immediately
Razor cocked his head to see Zee laying next to him, her eyes still closed.
However on her right index finger sat a metal pin.
A small
smile was all Razor allowed himself before he turned back to Jaimbers and
pushed himself to his feet.
Jaimbers
seemed to have forgotten about Razor, and had backed up so far that his legs
now bumped against the railing of the roof.
Razor moved
closer to him, his mind working furiously to calculate how many seconds had
passed. In one powerful yank he disarmed Jaimbers and threw the gun over the
ledge.
Jaimbers’
eyes shot up to meet Razor’s and he moved to strike, but a fist met his face
before he could finish; then another and another. He was soon pressed firmly
against the railing, the pain in his leg burning like fire and the repeated
blows to the face disorienting him further.
Razor
stopped briefly in his barrage, long enough to view Jaimbers one last time; the
only man to have ever surpassed him in training.
“It must
kill you to lose to a rookie,” Razor growled as he brought his fist up under
Jaimbers’ jaw with enough force to push him over the edge of the building.
Razor knew
the grenades clock was ticking, and as the screams echoed down the side of the building,
he dove away from the ledge, landing painfully on his stomach next to Zee as
the explosion rang through the air. Glass shattered violently, raining deadly
shards down onto the streets below, along with what ever was left of Jaimbers.
Razor
remained immobile for a long moment, trying to catch his breath and bearings as
the pain still throbbed through his body. He carefully looked up at the figure
of Zee, her eyes still closed, and he crawled closer until his face was just
above hers.
“Zee?” He
whispered, his voice failing him. She didn’t respond.
Razor
carefully rested his head on her chest; afraid that what he might here would be
silence.
“Ow!” Zee
choked.
Razor
lifted his head to see her eyelids slowly open. She looked at him and cringed.
“These
light weight flack jackets suck,” She groaned. Her hands then came slowly up to
the zipper on her body suit and she pulled it down to reveal the rather thin black
vest, a bullet burrowed inside, partly protruding from the Kevlar. Her gloved
hand reached up and grasped the bullet before yanking it free; a great sigh
coming over her.
“That one
was really bugging me,” She said.
Razor was
without words, he simply stared at her with his trademark smirk.
“So,” Zee
began. “Why did you let him shoot me anyway?”
Razor
laughed outwardly.
“I can’t
save you all the time,” Razor replied.
Zee pushed
herself into a sitting position and patted Razor on the cheek.
“If I’m not
mistaken, it was me who saved your ass this time,” she replied.
“Alright,
alright, so that is two dinners I owe you?” Razor attempted to rise to his
feet, but stumbled slightly from the pain. Zee quickly braced her hands on his
shoulders.
“Ha, you
owe me more than a dinner for that,” She laughed as they helped each other to
their feet.
Razor
smiled despite himself and together they headed for the stairs.
When
the police, firemen, and FBI arrived at the Arten building, they found a large
amount of discarded bodies hidden in various closets and store rooms about the
structure, with an empty roof and a computer system that had been corrupted
beyond repair.
No
sign of the intruders had been left behind save for half the body of Fredrik
Jaimbers who was found in pieces along the block surrounding the building.
The
police concluded that Jaimbers; wanted for multiple acts of terrorism,
infiltrated the building in hopes of obtaining the weapons information Arten
had stored in its computer network. After obtaining the information, Jaimbers
reportedly destroyed the existing files in hopes of auctioning the information
to the highest bidder.
The
palm computer containing the information was found near Jaimbers’ body, smashed
beyond repair.
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