Day 146 - Alarm Bells Ring

 Alarm Bells Ring

 Matthew Ryan Fischer

 

Before the alarm finished ringing, 66 was already in stride, pushing his way through the crowded street. He had minutes. Probably less. There had been a sighting. 47 would be on his way as well as a half dozen or more men. He wasn’t worried about 47, but if the other men got their first, he figured the gunman would make quick work of them and slip back into the underground.

They had devised a plan based on a simple principle – the shotgun attacks were happening on purpose. 47 knew more about the city, but it became clear fairly quickly that the gunman was attacking the nine major crime families of Jakarta. If they had figured that out, so too would have the families. And if the families were on the hunt in similar fashion than a chase like this would bring the Dragon Claw, perhaps all nine agents. 66 was confident, but not quite that confident. Reputation and rumor had it they were each as skilled as he. Two against nine and a madman with a shotgun spelled trouble. 66 preferred to be the first at the scene, finish his objective and get out before anyone noticed. Not that it ever was that simple.

The attacks were staged to appear random at a glance, but they were all targeting the lest defended lowest level business operations. Someone knew the families and was playing it as safe as they could. They were also all within walking distance of where the borders of multiple territories touched. Perhaps to hide his intentions in advance, perhaps to aid in his escape. 66 put his sights on four neighborhoods full of burnt-out broken-down buildings a man could hide in. Easy access to the gangs, an easy method to hide. Von had enough men to fill the neighborhoods for surveillance. 66 took one, 47 took another and they rotated between all four. 66 figured if luck was on their side, their surveillance would pick up the gunman after an attack and both he and 47 would be close enough to get there in time. The idea of luck being highly subjective as in this case it would mean he was close enough to engage with a loaded weapon.

66 received constant updates as he ran. Von’s men were closing in. The gunman was certain to be feeling the pressure by now. He had operated too long off simple fear. But he must have known the gangs would eventually fight back. He was outmanned and outgunned. He must have thought he had safe passages in the neighborhoods or a great place to hide. Either way, his luck today was out, but if he did manage to slip away, then this would all be for naught. The pattern would change. The attacks would become more cautious. They would be starting over trying to track and much more dangerous and prepared adversary.

66 saw a man running in the middle of the road, dodging traffic. The man glided through as if there were a preordained path established for only him. He wondered if he had just witnessed his first Agent. He certainly had the confidence and made no attempt to hide himself. And he lacked a shotgun.

66 thought about following him, but that might be perceived as a threat and instigate a fight. He has his own men guiding him and knew where he was going. This would be Agent seemed to be headed to the same general vicinity, but without updates, he’d eventually be lost in the crowd.

Then the shots began to explode. A pistol. An automatic. Then a shotgun. Someone had got there first.

“What happened!” screamed 47 over the radio com in 66’s ear.

One of our men decided to play hero, thought 66.

He heard more screams and gunshots over the radio as people barked orders and others cried and screamed in agony.

Up ahead the crowd was turning into chaos. The shots fired over and over, and the people began to panic.

The Agent paused in the street, then looked towards an alley, turned and ran.

66 saw the crowd up ahead turning and running his way and figured the Agent was on to a good idea.  The crowd was too thick and he couldn’t make to the same alley, but he could head in the general direction.

Updates started coming in again and some of the screaming voices from before had gone silent. Probably a bad sign for them. Maybe Von’s famous drug cocktails would keep them alive long enough to get help, maybe not. 66 didn’t have time to wonder or mourn.

66 turned a corner and nearly tripped over a dead body. He recognized the man, but didn’t know his name. His arm was nearly blown off from a blast from a shotgun. No amount of amphetamines was going to help with that.

66 saw the gunman turn a corner up ahead. 66 leapt back into action.

66 hadn’t expected an evenly matched fight. He chided himself for his arrogance. He was too concerned about Agents and the gun and forgot to consider the man’s other abilities. Plus, he had been healing but he wasn’t all the way healed. 66 wondered where 47 was and wished he was closer.

The gunman was trying to get away, and the moment 66 fell backwards, he turned to run. 66 thanked the gods for small miracles as he had no desire to test himself against a shotgun blast.

66 reached out and grabbed his arm, and that what when he noticed the man’s tattoo – Twenty-Two.

“Who the hell are you?”

This man was twenty-two, but he wasn’t the 22 that 66 knew.

66 got a punch to the face as his answer. Distracted by the mystery, 66 was hit thrown back more than usual. He tried to follow the gunman’s path, but by the time he stood back up, the gunman was lost in the crowd. 66 radioed his location and requested any updates, but he wasn’t hopeful. The gunman was gone, leaving a bigger mystery, just who was he and what had happened to the real 22.