Milan, Italy: September 2008
“Guys, are we really sure we want to send Sylvia to be the sexy one?” Shinji said into his walkie talkie.
“Are you acting like I’m not sexy?” Sylvia replied, offended.
“Respectfully Syl, I’ve been in bed with you before. You’re about as sexy as a damp sponge.”
“Why is he even here? He does not have combat training.” Katarina interjected from her line.
“He’s here for moral support and if we need a medic, although the former is looking doubtful right now.” Sylvia replied “Come to think of it, why didn’t we send Kat in to do the honeypot? I mean isn’t being a sexy foreign assassin her whole thing?”
“I’m busy actually getting us and all our weapons into this place while you two chat like birds.” Kat replied in her usual distant manner.
Sylvia and Shinji were both in separate lines to get into the event at a hotel in Milan, a huge and gorgeously crafted glass building that towered up towards the sky with a massive and elegant spire. The event was being held in the ballroom, a place for all the U.N. Ambassadors to meet and mingle after the day’s meetings. It was an exclusive list of people allowed in the venue that night, as most of the attendees were high ranking international officials. A pang of nerves ran through Sylvia as she walked through the metal detector. It didn’t go off, but she winced in anticipation anyway. Then when she got to the man holding a PDA with the names of the attendees on it, she said her name. The man waived her through quickly.
“Hey, I’m inside.” she said into her earpiece that was barely noticeable because it was so small.
“Great, now we need to locate the Bosnian ambassador and get him to his hotel room.” Sylvia saw Kat’s crown of golden blonde hair through the crowd. She was wearing a white dress that accentuated her figure. It was rare to ever see her without her eyepatch, but she wasn’t wearing it tonight. Sylvia had stuffed herself into a slim black dress that went down to her ankles.
“How on earth do you fight in dresses and corsets like this all the time. I’m like impressed now Kat, it’s so tight it’s like fighting with a really weak guy trying to put you in a triangle choke.” Sylvia said with her trademark snarky tone.
“Shut up and focus.” Shinji said “I think I saw him, over at the tables in the back right of the ballroom.”
Sylvia scanned the marble floors of the ballroom, laden with exotic crimson velvet and flawless ice sculpture; a glitzy sheen of elegance covering up the shady dealings underneath. She saw the target, a middle aged man, average height and weight, large gray eyebrows above shifty brown eyes. His hair was jet black but speckled with gray. He sat eating shrimp and red cocktail sauce sloppily.
“Alright, time to put on the charm.” Sylvia said taking a deep breath. She fixed her raven hair a bit, flaring it out across her slender shoulders.
She walked up to the Bosnian ambassador with a pervasive sway in her step. “Hey handsome, can I get you a new drink?” she asked, her voice purposefully hushed and intimate.
“Of course. And call me Miro.” He said jovially in a deep Eastern European accent. Sylvia went to the bar and got a drink for him, vodka tonic, and got herself a rum and coke.
She sat back down next to him at the table and cozied up, handing him his drink. He smiled and put his arm around her.
“So, what brings a girl like you here?” he asked taking a sip of his drink.
“Oh you know, I’m always looking for a good time.” Sylvia replied, her hand inching closer to his thigh. He smelled of expensive cologne and his beady eyes never left hers.
The two talked for a while. Sylvia was distracted by seeing Katarina lurking around her, waiting for the plan to spring into action. In that brief time, the foreign minister had slipped a few drops of a substance into Sylvia’s drink without her knowing. She turned back around and he gave her a crocodile smile, trying to play it cool. Sylvia took a large sip of her drink.
“So, do you have a room here at the hotel?” she asked, leaning into his shoulder
“I do.” He smiled
“Well, do you wanna take me there? Get away from all this noise… And do hand… Stuff?” she asked awkwardly
The ambassador gave Sylvia a quizzical look and did a double take.
“Eh, sure. If that’s what you want.” he replied with a smirk. He stood up and led her by the hip through the party. As they marched slowly through the throng of people, Sylvia noticed Shinji and gave him a small nod. They went through a side door that lead to an elevator up to one of the many high class penthouse suites available to the ambassadors. The elevator opened and they stepped out. The room had a luxurious view of Milan. It was magical, illuminated by the sunset.
“Nice view, eh?” he said proudly, his hand already sliding up to the strap of Sylvia’s dress. Sylvia looked down at the bed sheet. The circular pattern on the comforter had started to squirm and shift in position as if it was moving. Her senses were severely dulled and she felt like she had no control over her motor functions.
He had removed her dress completely off her shoulders before she had even noticed. He smiled at her and then put his hand to the zipper, the meeting of fabric and metal whispering as he slid it down her back. She struck him in the back of the head with her forearm and knocked him old cold. It was a clean strike despite her motor functions being severely hindered.
“Target is neutralized guys, you can come up now.” she said, her tongue felt numb and saying words felt alien, as if she didn’t even understand English any more.
“Fucking seriously Sylvia, do you wanna do hand stuff? That’s what you came up with?” Shinji finally said from the other side.
“I was trained to be a warrior, not to be a romantic.” Her response was so soft and airy, like she was floating and didn’t know where she was. The elevator dinged and her two allies stepped out into the hotel room. Katarina was carrying a briefcase that had a distinct patina from wear and tear. She immediately opened it up and started assembling a long scout sniper rifle. It was a Lobaev Arms DVL-10 M1 Saboteur with an extended magazine to allow for 10 shots in the bolt action rifle. The firearm had a thin black wire frame with a shoulder support pad and extra long grip. The black magazine extended down and in towards the body of the rifle. She set up the tri-pod legs and then screwed the silencer on. She placed it in what she deemed the most strategic point in the room. She turned the sofa over and set it up by the corner of the small wall that separated the room from the.
Sylvia was sitting at the counter where there was a stool next to a very small kitchen. Kat slid a black pistol with a molded grip inside a brown leather holster across the counter to her. Sylvia picked it up and reflexively, instinctively and checked the gun to see if there was a round chambered and then clicked the safety on. She holstered it, then drew it up to her eyes. The weight of the pistol felt good in her hands.
“This is nice, what is it?”
“It’s a Heckler and Koch P2000. It has an extended grip for extra balance and a laser sight.” Kat replied, not even looking up from her work trying to set up her sniper rifle. She twisted the silencer on, then checked her trusty Makarov on her hip. Sylvia picked up her trusted katana, unsheathing it and checking the edge before placing it on the counter top.
“Alright, let’s wake this bastard up and get what we need out of him before security realizes we’re here. Sylvia grab that chair and some rope.” Katarina said dutifully.
“Uh guys, I think they spiked my drink or something. I don’t feel right.” Sylvia said, looking down at the floor which was moving back and forth like it was shifting side to side just ever so slightly.
“Don’t feel right how?” Shinji asked, obvious concern in his voice.
“Like, you know… Everything is so soft focus and… Breathing. The walls are breathing.” she said whisper softly.
“Oh damnit, I think they dosed you with LSD. alright… I don’t have any Thorazine… Just try to focus and ignore it. Hopefully it wasn’t a large dose.”
Sylvia nodded, but she hadn’t heard a single word he said. She had been utterly captivated by the soft neon pink glow of the hotel sign just outside the window. It bathed the room in its shadow and that combined with the last remnants of the sunset were lighting the sky on fire just outside the hotel room window.
“Shinji get over here and help me if she can’t.” Kat commanded. He grabbed the white nylon rope and a chair. Kat bunched up a bit of the Ambassador’s shirt and lifted him up into the chair. Shinji tied him up tightly, both arms behind the back of the chair and both legs strapped firmly to the chair legs, he could feel the rope burning into the man’s skin as he fastened it down. Katarina grabbed a small brown stick from her trench coat pocket and broke it in half under the ambassador’s nose. He woke up and immediately started yelling at them, swearing up a storm in his native language, asking where he was and who they were. He looked up and saw Katarina, who had put on her matching white eyepatch with the blue and yellow cross of the flag of Ukraine. The man recognized her instantly.
“How lucky am I to have been abducted by such a beauty.” he said mockingly
“Oh so you know who I am.” Kat replied
“More than you realize, USSR Special Operations Katarina Kovalev.” he said with a wicked smile.
Kat slapped him across the face with her Makarov, making him spit blood onto the floor.
“Look, you answer my questions and we all get out of here and everything goes back to normal. Don’t answer the question and you’re going to get a 9 millimeter round to your kneecaps, and if you scream or call for security, then I bust out my combat knife and start taking fingers… Your choice.”
“Fuck you.” he said spitting on Kat’s heels. Katarina immediately pistol-whipped him again, causing his face to bruise and bleed even more.
“Why did all of the U.N. Special Ops team get burned? Me, General Maxey, all of us. I need to know now.”
“That’s above your paygrade.” he said with a cruel and cocky smirk.
Katarina stared daggers through him, then said “Alright, my patience is already worn thin. He’s getting waterboarded. Shinji, grab a towel from the bathroom.”
Shinji promptly did as he was told. The Ambassador was fighting and struggling to get out of his binds but Katarina put the bedside radio on to drown out any noise he made. Out of Touch by Hall and Oates played loudly from the speaker. The digital drums kicked in and then the plunky synths started up as Sylvia watched almost a complete spectator to what was happening in the room literally feet from her.
“Why did you kill us Sylviaaaaa” Angel said inside Sylvia’s head
“Angel, just stop will you? She’s already panicking enough as it is, don’t mess with her like that.” Janus scolded her opposite voice.
Sylvia was hardly listening to the voices in her head. The decorations on the curtains were shifting slightly, the red and gold pattern wiggling up and down like paisley snakes. It looked like her vision was constricting and expanding constantly. The gentle pink glow of the neon had her captivated as Katarina grabbed the ice bucket from behind Sylvia, but she wasn’t moving normally. She moved with a rhythm, with a grace, with a free flowing spirit that Sylvia had never seen from the stoic European. She grabbed the bucket and did an elegant ballet pirouette around her. She tossed the empty bucket to Shinji who, likewise although much more clumsily danced his way over to the bathroom sink. He filled the water bucket up and then handed the damp towel to Katarina.
The song had a crescendo to the chorus. “You’re out of touch, I’m out of time, but I’m out of my head when you’re not around.” Katarina lifted her leg up and kicked the chair over and did another pirouette in one smooth motion. The light of the sign was playing beautifully off the backdrop of the large windows to the Milan skyline and the shadows in the room, keeping Sylvia utterly enthralled
“Look, I’m going to ask nicely one more time. Why were all of the UN Special Forces agents burned?” Kat asked, holding up a piece of paper that served as her own burn notice. The note had been sent a few days ago to every intelligence agency in the world.
“Sorry, that information doesn’t concern you.” he replied bitterly.
“Wrong answer, down!” She kicked him back over and then shoved the shaggy blue hand towel from the bathroom into his mouth until it was tight. Then, she poured water from the ice bucket into the towel until he was choking and sputtering.
“We’re soul alone and soul really matters to me.” the song said, leading to the chorus again. Sylvia watched enraptured as Katarina performed a purposefully jerky danced to the middle of the window, the pink light creating a perfect shadow over the window which had now darkened slightly as the sun had completely set. She struck a triumphant pose in the middle of the room as the peak of the chorus ended. The water from the ambassador’s mouth which he had spit out while lying on the ground played off the shadows like the facsimile of a fountain.
The Ambassador’s shirt was soaked through and you could see the hair on his chest through his thin dress shirt. He coughed loudly and spit more water out as he was sat back up. Katarina had gone back to her suitcase and pulled out another piece of paper, it was a black and white photo of two men in sunglasses sitting at an outdoor cafe in some Mediterranean country. The picture was pixelated as if it had been taken by a very powerful camera from afar, but you could still tell it was clearly the Ambassador with another, much larger man.
“Why do we have pictures of you with the head of a known terrorist cell? And what the fuck is Project Phoenix?” Katarina asked, she was clearly growing more and more impatient with his unwillingness to tell.
“Again, that is above your paygrade little girl. Why don’t you run off and bother somebody else?” he said smugly.
Katarina kicked him over and shoved the towel back in his mouth. She poured the rest of the water like a flood into the towel. She repeated the process of pulling tight to his mouth so it ensured he was breathing in water. She once more lifted him back up as he spit out the water and panted to regain his breath.
Katarina held her handgun to his knee and flipped the safety with a foreboding pop. The pointer finger of her white prosthetic right arm pressed against the trigger menacingly. “Tell me what happened now or both your kneecaps are gone. I’m done fucking around. Who burned us and what is Project Phoenix?”
The man took a moment to compose himself, his hair which had been done up immaculately now fell in his face, soaking wet. there was a slight glimmer on the wall behind Katarina. He spit out more water and then spoke, his demeanor changing instantly. “Well, since all of us in the room are dead men walking, I might as well spill what I know.”
Kat took the handgun off his knee and stood above him. He paused to catch his breath more then spoke.
“This all goes way above me and you. You were all burned because there are people within the UN conspiring with the biggest terrorist cell in the world.” he replied
“A Terrorist cell, why?” she asked, pressing the gun to this cheek. “Why were you meeting with the man who is number one in the Interpol most wanted list?”
“If we’re aligning with the elites that control the world, then maybe I wanted in on it too. I’m a politician and we’re opportunist first after all.” he said with a wicked grin “But he told me everything about Project Phoenix.”
“So what is it then? Is this a codename for an operation?” Katarina asked impatiently
The man looked up at her with another sadistic smile on his face. “No, you’re thinking too small again Ms. Kovalev. Project Phoenix isn’t a line of computer code or nuclear secrets or a ground breaking piece of military tech that can sway the tide of a war… Project Phoenix is a bioweapon. A synthesized virus 30 times more virulent than Anthrax. I don’t know what they plan to do with it, but it’s being made in a lab somewhere. I swear I don’t know where or how. All I know is that they’re being privately funded by a lot of the world’s wealthy. I can’t say much more, other than you are not on the winning side trust me.”
“And you betrayed your morals to get a seat at the table.” Katarina stated angrily
“Ask a dead man what morality means, you’ll hear no answer, for dead men speak not. Tell me Ms. Kovalev, what will your morals mean where there’s no world left for tomorrow?”
The response hung tense in the air, but just then, the glass of the window shattered, there was a thunderous, echoing bang and then the Ambassador’s head had erupted into a fine mist of brain matter, dark red blood and skull fragments. The reality of what was happening smacked Sylvia in the face like a cold night’s breeze leaving a stuffy house party. She was instantly out of her enraptured state and straight into survival mode, but her motor functions were still seriously impaired. It felt like everything was moving in slow motion, in frames happening before her eyes. She dove down behind the counter and before long, Shinji and Katarina were beside her. Kat had one side of her face completely covered in blood and tiny bits of skull in her hair.
“I need to get to my rifle.” Kat said, her head covered by her arms.
“You’re seriously going to try to stay and fight?” Sylvia yelled “You have a Scout Sniper, you heard how much that shot echoed, that’s a fucking 50 Kat!” The intensity in her voice proved that she wasn’t joking around.
“I know but trust me, this is what I trained for. This is what I do. I just need to get to my rifle and we’re fine, I have a thermal scope.” she explained, pointing to the small sniper’s nest she had made around the corner. There was a big wall which wrapped around the entry way and blocked off the main part of the suite from view of the elevator.
“Well how do we get there, we’re getting fucking smoked if we try to crawl that far!” Sylvia replied
“I know what I’m doing Sylvia. You just have to trust what I-” Another shot rang out into the night, shattering the next window over and splintering the counter. An entire third of the small wooden structure was gone. The wood had shattered into a fine mist. The shot had landed right next to Kat’s foot, leaving a sizable hole in the ground.
Suddenly, the group’s ear pieces all buzzed and crackled with thick static. “Bon Jour, can you hear me?” a seductive French accent came from the other side of the line. The woman’s voice was dripping with a teasing sarcasm.
“Who the hell are you?” Sylvia asked.
“Well, we’re not exactly close enough for first names are we? Call me by my codename, Black Heart.”
“That didn’t answer our question.” Shinji replied nervously.
“Let me just say… I’m currently aiming what I think is about 3 millimeters from your head.”
“Kat, you saw the angle of that bullet, she has the drop on us, she’s at least a few floors up.” Sylvia replied panicking.
The woman sniggered into her microphone. There was the audible clicking of the sight being calibrated and then… Bang! another deafening shot from the rifle. The bullet struck right between Shinji and Sylvia, splitting the counter in half and sending both of them running to the side. Shinji grabbed Sylvia’s hand and she squeezed it firmly, assuredly. She was still processing how the drug was affecting her, and at the moment she was running on pure instincts and adrenaline. In a way, the drug was forcing her to think about everything constantly, helping her keep focus.
“You should listen to your friend Katarina. She’s right.” More ominous clicking from the sight mechanism; like the hands of a monstrance clock ticking down. There was barely any cover left from the counter, the bullets had torn the cheap fibers to shreds.
Katarina pointed to her waist band which had a small blue tube that looked like a signal flare in it. Sylvia recognized it as a smoke grenade. She nodded and signaled for Shinji to get ready to move. Kat pulled the pin and threw it between them and the entry way. There was another shot that just barely missed Katarina’s head by a 6 inches at most. She dropped to the deck, took a moment to compose herself then crawled as fast as she could on her forearms and knees to where her rifle was located. Shinji followed and soon Sylvia. Another shot into the mass of choking black smoke that was building up in the entry way and kitchenette. It was a blind shot that missed everybody by a decent amount. Shinji dove into cover and then pulled Sylvia around the corner just as another shot pierced the crown molding of the wall just above where Sylvia had been. Shinji held her close for just a moment before she straightened up and leaned against the wall.
“Clever, clever…” The woman said on the other line. Click… click. click…. Every time like gears in a foreboding machine. “I expected an experienced marksman to pull out all the stops against another world class marksman, I want to see what you’re really made of though, agent Kovalev.”
“It’s over, I have a thermal scope.” Katarina said, desperately dialing in the sights of her own rifle. She lifted up the scope and looked, it was clear to see where the opposing assassin was, about 3 floors up and 3 rooms over. She put her finger to the trigger.
“Oh you didn’t think I’d make it that easy for you did ya?” she said, her voice soaking in sadistic confidence. She pressed a button that dispersed a layer of compressed heat that ruined the calibration of the thermal imaging.
“I came to duel the Angel of Death herself, let’s make it a fair fight, shall we?”
Katarina turned off the thermal imaging leaving just her night vision scope to survey where the shooter had relocated to. She scanned the room, finding the glint of the rifle scope’s glass pointing from around a corner. She steadied her breath and pulled the trigger. The shot fired and landed, hitting a column about 2 feet above the rifle. Katarina pulled the rifle butt up and moved positions. Sylvia and Shinji were still kneeling around the corner in the entry way, near the hall that lead to the elevator.
“Get out of here, I’ve got this!” She yelled
“Yes, get out of here, let the two of us have our moment. I’m sure you deserve no better than the nameless goons that await you anyway.” the woman said, no doubt her face forming a cruel grin. Another earth shattering shot from the rifle. This one penetrated the upper wall and down about 9 inches from Sylvia. Sylvia looked down at it and then looked back down the hallway. “Shinji, let’s go. Be safe Kat. We’ll get the van.” Sylvia said with purpose. Kat nodded and set up her rifle just to the left of where she had previously been. She calibrated the sights again and racked the bolt to chamber a new round. Sylvia and Shinji discarded their ear pieces, and ran to the elevator. Once the ornate golden doors opened, Sylvia checked her handgun again and then checked the backup she kept on an ankle holster. It was her most trusted weapon, the Walther PPK with a long slide grip. She got in with her friend and mashed the button for the ground floor. She handed Shinji her handgun and picked her backup off her ankle, bending over gracefully to grab the sleek silver firearm. She racked the slide and checked to make sure the chamber was cleared before clicking the safety off.
“Fuck, we don’t have enough ammo. We’re gonna have to steal weapons from them.” Sylvia stated
“How are you feeling?” Shinji asked
“I don’t know, I kind of like it. I feel so… Focused.” Sylvia said. The walls inside the elevator were shifting back and forth, like her chest as she inhaled and exhaled.
“Well that’s good…I-I guess…” Shinji said a bit confused.
The walls of the elevator opened and they stepped out. Immediately, Sylvia had to shoot, drilling a man in a black security suit straight in the back. He was carrying a compact machine gun, a UMP 45. Sylvia grabbed it and instantly unfolded the stock. She didn’t feel like she had complete control over the sub-machine gun; not her preferred firearm, but it would have to do. She searched the man down for ammo and found a few magazines. She grabbed them and put them on her holster. She handed Shinji the man’s sidearm, a generic Glock and he took it, putting it on the other side of his holster. They continued down the entry way, which was now full of men in the same black suit dispersing out.
Back in the penthouse suite, Katarina had another shot lined up. She went through the same routine as always, it was ingrained into her very being at this point. Finger on trigger, relax your shoulder and take a deep breath, pull slowly, even pressure. It was like a checklist to her. The rifle fired and struck just above where the opponent’s rifle tip was pointing. It was followed by another shot. Kat could hear the bullet flying by her head, displacing the air with a sickening zip. It struck the wall literal millimeters from where she laid down. She could see the bullet hole which had dug into the wall of the hotel leaving a small crater. An all too familiar anxiety started to set in. She took a moment to gather herself, took a deep breath. Click… Click… Click…
Her instincts kicked in and she rolled out of the way with the rifle, just as another shot exploded violently through the wall right where she had just been. She laid the rifle down and pulled the lever to clear the chamber for the next shot. She changed her angle, laying around the corner of the bar that was just to the right of the entry way. Another deafening blast from the rifle. She had to ignore the shot that had just barely missed her by a fraction of an inch. She had to make the assassin waste one more shot before her plan could work. She looked down at the rifle. She turned it so that the light from the nearby lamp would reflect off of it. She immediately pulled back and the shot missed the center of her scope by less than an inch.
Katarina took the time her opponent used to reload after her final shot to pull out a small mirror on a short handle from her belt. She had her rifle set up to the correct distance just behind the corner of the wall. She reached her mirror out just enough so that it would pick up a glint from the wall mounted light. She pulled it back and instantly, another shot rang out, hitting the floor exactly where the mirror had been. Katarina reached for her rifle, diving to the side. She sidled up to the gun, finger on trigger, relax your shoulder and take a deep breath, pull slowly, even pressure. The gun erupted, dispersing its energy throughout her body. She absorbed the impact of the recoil as the shot tore through the plaster of the wall and struck the assassin in the upper forearm. She let out a pained gasp and then a resigned and yet sadistic laugh. One last shot that was as near a miss as you could get. The constitution to even get that close after being hit in the shooting arm impressed even Katarina, although the bullet hole was a stark reminder of what might have been. Kat had made a formidable foe. The radio waves crackled into life in her ear.
“I have to admit Agent Kovalev, I’m impressed. That was some real fancy shooting. So glad you didn’t disappoint me, it’s rare to find another marksman of my pedigree. But unfortunately we seem to have made quite the ruckus. So I will have to bid you ado for now. But don’t you fret Katarina, we will meet again. I look forward to our second showdown.”
Katarina had no ammo left in her rifle so she watched as a cloaked figure with dark hair exited into a cloud of thick black smoke. Katarina quickly grabbed what she could, namely her pistol and Sylvia’s katana and then contacted Sylvia and Shinji “Change of plans, meet me on a street over from the main street. This is absolute chaos. I’m taking a shortcut.” “Roger that, we’re on our way to the van now.” Shinji replied over his shortwave walkie talkie.
She put her sidearm into the ankle holster and tied the sheath around the side of her waist. She jumped out the open window. The palm and fingers of her prosthetic arm flew off and a cable extended out of it. The grappling hook dug into the side of the window and she swung down slowly to the street below, gliding gracefully across the glass of the building. As she descended to the street below, she dug the end of her mechanical arm into the side of the building’s glass, sending a shower of sparks across the facade of the building. She landed and rolled as the hand of her arm snapped back into place. She twisted the white hand which had been scuffed and burred from contact with metal. The paint had been completely sheared off her hand one side. She twisted the wrist until it was on straight, the ball bearing joint that acted as the wrist snapped into place. She saw a man in a black security suit pull up on a motorcycle. She drew the pistol in her ankle holster and shot before he could even get his gun readied, spinning it just once around her finger before running over to the motorcycle.
Sylvia turned the corner and blasted 3 tightly controlled shots into a man in black. She continued down the hall with Shinji, praying the silencer had helped dampen the noise enough to allow them to retain the element of surprise. Two more men came around the corner and Sylvia dispatched them with shots to the head one after another, visceral amounts of blood splattering against the wall and against Sylvia’s black dress. Sylvia checked the magazine to see she had 12 bullets left.
“Oh my god she wasn’t counting bullets. She must be totally fucked off her rocker.” Angel laughed in Japanese
Sylvia’s focus was absolute; whether it was pure reactions or intuition from a life time of fighting Sylvia hadn’t felt this clear headed in the heat of battle in a long time. She gracefully killed another man with a single shot to the throat, he grabbed at his neck briefly before bleeding out and crumpling to the floor in a heap. Sylvia wiped a bead of sweat from her brow. Shinji said nothing, clearly she was fighting like a woman possessed right now and he didn’t want anything to break that focus.
“Nanto, saigo ni kanojo ga watashi-tachi ga Nihon-go de hanashite iru no o kiita no ga itsudatta no ka sura oboete imasen. Kanojo wa hontōni mechakuchada.” Janus agreed.
Sylvia led Shinji down a stair well and then silently stopped him when she heard footsteps from down below. She switched to her pistol and moved down the steps as quietly as she could, the pistol turned 45 degrees for close combat. Down below in the well, two more men were quickly ascending about 20 steps. Sylvia swung down and landed on one. She rattled off a shot and hit one man in the shoulder. She grabbed the other man by the neck and dragged him down. She disarmed him quickly and then lifted him up by the collar to use him as a human shield against his ally. His vest and relative size was enough to stop the bullet from penetrating to Sylvia. She looked up and took aim. One shot and sparks flew as it took two deflections off the stairwell wall which had her enemy ducking frantically. Shinji took a shot which grazed the man in the side of the arm. He ignored him and focused on Sylvia, jumping down and knocking the gun out of her hand. She grabbed her knife instinctively and slashed his Achilles, causing him to scream in agony. She grabbed him by the neck and pulled him down. He reached for his gun but Sylvia kicked it off the ledge, watching it fall down the stairwell.
Sylvia flipped him on his back, putting him in a rear naked choke and constricting the much stronger and bigger man’s movement as much as possible as the choke itself wasn’t locked in tight under his chin. She reached for the knife before him and grabbed it, sending him struggling and smashing Sylvia’s head against the hard, cold metal of the stairs. She gritted her teeth against the pain, once, twice. She knew Shinji couldn’t hit a shot like this and he knew not to try it with her so close. She would have to manage on her own. She tightened her grip as much as she could on the knife and jabbed it down into him with the entire force of her body weight. The man blocked the knife, his hands now gushing and gapping with defensive wounds. She attacked the shoulder wound, loosening his grip and then jabbed the knife straight down into his throat. The man’s voice sputtered his dying breath as blood from the artery sprayed into Sylvia’s side and face. She was now almost entirely covered in dark red blood. The blood dripped down the stair way, each drop landing with a metallic thunk. Sylvia stopped for a moment to catch her breath. She was completely lost in her head. She looked down at her own hands, covered in blood. Her elegant pistol stained crimson with a stark reminder of her dirty work.
Sylvia looked down and her hands were visibly shaking. Shinji offered his hand and after a second of hesitation she let him help her up. He handed her the machine gun and her handgun back. she took it and refocused herself. They exited out the door and to the fire escape. There was a man standing there and Sylvia dispatched him with one shot from the rifle. They climbed down the rusted metal ladder and into the parking lot. They found their big white van parked in the middle of the furthest lot amongst a chaotic mass of cars and bodies. Shinji grabbed the keys and started it up. The engine came to life after a moment. Sylvia strapped herself into the bucket seat astride Shinji. The back of the van was lined with tactical gear, a few bulky laptops and a few auxiliary seats attached to the sides of the vehicle. Sylvia afforded herself a moment to relax and collect her emotions. She drew a few deep breaths trying to ignore the lights reflecting brightly in her eyes, causing small rainbow patterns to form in the corners of her vision.
Katarina jumped on the bike and started the engine up again. It roared into life and squealed as she peeled out into the main street. She deftly ducked through the traffic which had swelled near the exits of the hotel. The silver bike found some open road finally and she was able to really push the throttle down. As she saw the van in the distance, two bikes pulled up alongside her with men in black suits on them. She brought her pistol up with one arm while still balancing the bike and shot the man off the back. She took aim again but a bullet struck her arm, causing it to make a loud echo as it ricocheted off, leaving a charred hole in her trench coat. The recoil from the bullet reverberating through her arm caused her to drop the pistol. The main raised his gun again, delicately balancing the motorcycle, but she reached for Sylvia’s katana on her waist. In one slash she cut his arm off then struck his helmet. The blade didn’t pierce the helmet, it just left a long, sleek gash in the material, but it was a hard enough impact that it caused him to go careening off the road. The gas tank of the vehicle exploded sending a wave of heat behind from Katarina. She drove up alongside the van. The door slid open and Sylvia was there to help her in. She stood up on the bike, letting it go forward with its own momentum and she leaped into the van. Sylvia caught her body and eased her fall. She got up and slammed the door shut. Shinji stepped on the gas and drove away, leaving the utter chaos behind.
Sylvia and Katarina both collapsed, leaning up against the of the van across from each other. Sylvia anxiously played with her hair, which had started to betray her age around the temples; small streaks of gray hair underlining the raven black.
Katarina handed Sylvia her sword back. It was covered in blood. Sylvia looked at it and then took it. She cleaned the blood off with the sleeve of her peacoat and then examined it closely. Kat reached for her ear and the ear piece came on. She calibrated the frequency and then talked into it. “General Maxey, come in.” She said.
“It’s good to hear your voice again Captain Kovalev. Certainly not your cleanest op.” He replied with a smug tone in his proper British accent
“I get it, but we got a lot of good information about Project Phoenix. Apparently, it’s a virus being synthesized in a lab somewhere but he didn’t know where.”
“A virus… Interesting. We’ll have to go over the intel once you get to the airfield. Get back to camp and we’ll talk. Good work Agent Kovalev.”
The call ended and then Katarina laid back, every muscle in her body screaming in pain as she rested against the droning sound of passing city traffic. When they arrived at the airfield about 20 miles from Milan, Shinji left to go into a tent for mission briefing and what the next plan of action was. Sylvia was in one of the green canvas tents that were dotted around the center of the airfield. Katarina ducked in, opening the flap and then resealing the entrance. She had taken her prosthetic off and the stump of her forearm right where the wound had happened was wrapped in a bandage sleeve and hung down by her waist. Sylvia leaned up against the wall at the head of the cot. She was sharpening her katana with a large grey whetstone, the blade making a satisfying metallic noise as she formed a new edge. She had a large blue ice pack secured to her head with a tan cloth bandage.
“How are you feeling?” She asked, genuine concern in her face.
“You fucked up the edge on my blade, so thanks for that. I’ve been using this whetstone for an hour.” She sighed, looking up and trying to hide her charmed smirk as she ran her hand over the slowly forming new edge.
“Don’t lie, I know you love sharpening knives.” Katarina replied with a similar smile. Sylvia chuckled in agreement. She put the blade back in the sheathe and put it to the side.
“I’ve always found sharpening knives so relaxing, I don’t know why.” she added simply “You know, until right now I never took the time to see how beautiful life can be.” she said lightly.
“What? Ok Janis Joplin, maybe sleep off the LSD before we get into to any big revelations.” Katarina laughed in a rare moment of lightheartedness.
“No, Kat I mean it. Seriously, look at us. We’re both pushing 50 and all we’ve done our entire lives is create pain and violence. I never stopped to realize how beautiful everything is.”
Katarina heaved a sigh but she had to admit the years of fighting had left her exhausted, both mentally and physically. Her body was taking longer and longer to recover from missions and it was getting harder and harder to feel like she was in complete control of the situation in fights, not to mention the anxiety attacks that were frequent now.
“What happened to your arm?” Sylvia asked, pointing at her right arm.
“Oh Nicolai is working on it.” she said simply. There was an uncomfortable, maybe even tense silence between the pair.
“Alright, I’ll let you get some rest. We leave tomorrow to return to the states. oh-700 hours.” she stated and Sylvia nodded. She left the tent and Sylvia leaned back against the wall, her head pounding as she pushed the icepack closer to her temples, the cold of the ice doing little to alleviate the aching in her head.