by Adrian P
Audi crossed his arms. “And you think the Brotherhood operates on the same line of thinking?”
“From how you’ve described them so far? Absolutely,” she said. “Every social movement, at its heart, is a cry for change against a prevalent system which causes suffering. They may be fighting for different issues, different sufferings of different victim groups, but the core issue is often, if not always, the same.”
Bryant laughed. “You sound like you’re sympathising with The Brotherhood.”
“Shut up, damned gorilla,” Christina grumbled. “At least I spend my life thinking through big matters, unlike your simpleton mind and life.”
“Hey!” Bryant yelled, albeit still in a cheerful tone. “Even I have one or two complex things I kept on thinking about.”
“What? Pornography?”
“How do you know?”
Christina yelped. “This disgusting gorilla—!”
“I was joking!” Bryant laughed again.
The two bickered for seconds through the channel, then Audi pressed two buttons on his communicators. “Okay, I cut them off.”
“I’m sorry about Chrissie,” Rachele chuckled. “But that means the course is clear. Your fear of ambush turns out to be unfounded.”
Audi walked off the pavement into the middle of the road. He stood still, scanning the surroundings in silence.
What is this uneasy feeling? The sounds of riots are getting further away, and the police are getting dragged by their pace. He touched his holster and grabbed his pistol’s handle. Not planting an ambush makes no sense. Am I wrong? Am I—
An explosion echoed far behind.
Audi turned in abrupt.
A truck went up in flames across the intersection.
“What’s that?” Rachele’s voice echoed through the communicator.
The boy ran towards the truck with every strength he’s got. He took out his pistol while dashing back through the pavement, zig-zagging from cars, to lampposts, to objects big enough to cover his body. He reached the flaming truck within seconds.
“Shit!” he planted a box on the door and took five steps back. Boom. The door blasted off. Audi ran into the truck, and found a writhing Bryant inside. “Big man!”
“I’m…okay,” he winced. “My head’s a bit shaky, but I’m…cool.”
“Cool my buttocks, your armour’s burning!” Audi pulled his arm and dragged him out. He laid him down on the ground and took off his scarf. He spread it wide and smothered the flame with it. Seconds after, the flame went out.
“Audi!” Charlotte screamed over the communicator. “Someone’s with a rocket launcher from the building across the road! It’s aimed at you!”
“What the hell?” Audi turned his sight upwards across the road.
A Man in Blue Suit aimed a long, green tube towards him.
And a rocket screamed out towards the boy.
Chapter 2 / Part 5
Audi dragged Bryant into a building while beats of explosions rocked behind. The boy rushed him onto a wall and forced him to lean. He shook his shoulders. “Tell me you’re not wounded, damn it!” the boy yelled. “Tell me your armour has first aid function built-in!”
“Of…course,” he grimaced. “I should recover within a minute, just…wait.”
The boy clicked his tongue and grabbed his communicator. “Can someone hold that bastard back? I can’t protect the big man while fighting off rocket-wielding opponent!”
“We have problem,” Rachele spoke through the channel. “Some evacuees turn out to be Brotherhood soldiers. They have mingled among civilians and ambushed Chrissie. She’s fighting them off right now, but she’s cornered. I’ve got to help her.”
“Ghost Girl,” Audi said. “What’s your situation?”
“Was chasing your attacker, but he’s gone,” Charlotte replied. “I cannot find him using vital sign scanner, he must’ve used a vital sign jammer or some sort.”
“I hate these Brotherhood people,” Audi frowned. “Usually I’m the one trying to kill others, but with them, I’m always the target.”
“You did mess with them three years ago.”
“I messed with them after they painted a bullseye on me,” Audi grumbled. “Take care of the perimeter and make sure the other little rats don’t reinforce—“
“Incoming two fireteams of five heading your way,” Charlotte interrupted. “Ten people? I’ll play with them for a bit.”
She hung up.
“Damn it. We’re on our own, big man,” Audi turned to Bryant. “Can you fight?”
Bryant grabbed his knee and slowly stood. He stretched his arms and deployed his helmet from within the armoured suit. “I’m good,” he said through the suit’s loudspeaker. “Let’s kick the ass of whoever’s trying to kill you.”
Bryant barged through a door and entered a wide storage warehouse. The building was barely lit, with tiny beams of light rays infiltrating the site through small cavities on the high ceilings. The entire hall was vast and expansive, but it was filled with steel cages to separate compartments. The doors were hollow steel nets. Musty smell of old leather and rusting metals permeated the air.
The paths were narrow, barely wider than the width of Bryant’s shoulders. They navigated through the site in line, with Audi in the front, and Bryant at the back. The big man struggled to see, but the boy’s steps were confident, albeit nearly soundless.
“This place is a maze,” Audi spoke.
“And it’s the only way to the other side of the district without going through the street,” Bryant said. “Which may be full of Brotherhood soldiers, hiding around, waiting to ambush us.”
Audi frowned. “Do you know what’s worse than fighting a bunch of soldiers?”
Bryant glanced at him.
“Fighting one whom we cannot find,” Audi readied his pistol.
“Shit,” Bryant pulled up his fists. “Are we trapped? This place is narrow, and I can barely fit myself between these compartments.”
“It’s a calculated move, keep walking,” Audi stepped forward as Bryant followed. “Our enemy knows we can’t turn back to the main street, and our only way forward is through this place.”
“So he scouted ahead of us.”
“Worse case, he’s already—“
A clank of metal echoed through the hall.
“Shit,” Bryant whispered. “Is that…him?”
“The echo ruined our hearing, we can’t tell the direction of that noise,” Audi turned around. “He’s smart for choosing this place for an ambush, but at the same time,” the boy grinned. “He’s made a grave mistake.”
“What?” Bryant turned.
Audi vanished from sight.
Hold on, where is he? The big man looked around. Damn it, did he just wander around on his own? I thought he’s the one who needs protection?
Bryant walked forward with his fists raised up. He navigated through the tight space, tilting his pose sideways to maximise his leeway. The guy could be anywhere. We need to get out of here before he attacks. Is that possible? He glanced around. I can’t even find him—
The fence next to him rattled.
The big man turned sideways. Nobody but a stack of chairs inside the compartment. His heartbeat rose, and cold sweat poured down his nape. Bryant clenched his fists tighter as he walked again. He reached a corner and turned.
A Man in Blue Suit punched him in the face.
The punch pushed Bryant back to a fence. His weight tore the metals apart and held him like a hammock. Bryant tried standing up, but The Man in Blue Suit jumped on top of him, slamming his chest with one foot.
“You want to play brute force?” Bryant grumbled. “Then let’s swing.”
The big man tackled him and slammed The Man in Blue Suit onto a metal door, clanking a loud echo through the hall. He punched him on the chest and forced him down the ground.
Click.
The Man in Blue Suit aimed his hand towards Bryant’s chest.
He f
ired a small rocket, pushing Bryant towards the air.
The big man crashed through a series of compartments, smashing a pile of tables down to pieces. With speed, he stood up and smashed through the cages like a rhino, heading towards The Man in Blue Suit. Bryant rammed him with one shoulder and pushed him far to the distance.
His armour is almost as strong as mine. How is that possible?
The Man in Blue Suit stood up and aimed both hands at Bryant. He spat a barrage of bullets, but Bryant’s armour deflected every shell. The big man walked slowly towards him. “I don’t know who you are, but you’re messing with the wrong person.”
“Really?” The Man in Blue Suit spoke in a familiar voice.
Eh? Bryant flinched.
Four rockets deployed out of the man’s wrists and launched straight towards Bryant.
Damn it! Bryant crossed his arms in front of him. The rockets exploded on his arms, pushing him back to the floor.
His helmet’s display showed hardware failures all over his suit. Life support system damaged. Bryant’s chest tightened as the interior ran out of oxygen. He disengaged his helmet using emergency function, launching the armour’s head piece away to the distance.
The Man in Blue Suit stood in front of him. “Where is he?”
“You…” Bryant winced. “No way.”
“Where is he?” The Man in Blue Suit stepped on his chest. “He was with you just seconds ago! Where did he go?”
Audi jumped The Man in Blue Suit from behind.
The Bandana boy stabbed his shoulder with a knife and grappled his neck, but The Man in Blue Suit kicked him away. They faced off in the narrow darkness, and series of metal clanks echoed through the hall. Bryant can barely see their battle, but compartments were destroyed one after another. A gunfire flash. More gunfire. Then stop. The Man in Blue suit shouted yells, but the boy was completely silent.
Explosion.
Fire blasted out of a stacked wooden furniture, turning the warehouse bright orange with dancing silhouettes painted on the ceiling: showing an intense shadow puppet battle ensuing. The Man in Blue Suit distanced himself and readied his wrist gun, but Audi dashed forward, slouching as he ran, and punched his stomach with an uppercut. The boy stepped back, and kicked him with a knee. The Man in Blue Suit collapsed.
Audi planted a square device on The Man in Blue Suit’s chest. Sparks of electricity jumped out, and the man ceased to move.
“That’ll make you a little humbler,” Audi said. “How does it feel, struck down by the same device twice?”
“You,” The Man in Blue Suit grumbled.
His helmet ejected itself away.
The man’s hair was ruffed, and sweat poured heavily down his face. He coughed in violence and tried picking himself up with his arms. His legs won’t move. The man dropped back to the floor.
Bryant stood up and walked towards him. “Matthew,” he said. “Why did you—“
“I didn’t betray you, Bryant. You both betrayed me, betrayed us,” Matthew Cainson said. “We were supposed to protect Mr. Simonovsky from Petit Fantome, yet you turned away.”
“Did you not see what he’s done?” Bryant asked. “His superweapon destroyed Benteng City along with its people! Are you saying you’re okay, helping that kind of—?”
“So?” Matthew frowned. “He promised us money. He’s willing to pay us handsomely. Does it matter what he’s done? Don’t you want to buy your fiancée a diamond ring—“
“Don’t bring my fiancée into this!” Bryant shouted. “Konstantin is a mass murderer who couldn’t give a damn about people’s lives! No matter how much I love my fiancée, there is no point if I buy her the diamond ring through money I gained by helping a bastard like him!”
“No point?” Matthew frowned. “There is a point: you don’t get to marry your fiancée.”
Bryant gritted his teeth and punched Matthew down.
“The way you described your struggle to feed your family, I thought you’re a man with morals,” the big man tightened his fist. “You are willing to sacrifice yourself, your happiness for the survival of your kin, yet why? How can someone humane like you turn your cheek away and be indifferent towards a mass murderer? Konstantin killed more than ten million people with his superweapon!”
“And that’s how important my family is to me.”
“What?”
Matthew chuckled. He glared at Bryant with a look of pity. “If letting ten million die is what it takes for my family to survive, then that is a fair price. Any price is fair, in fact.”
The big man flinched.
“Are you not selfish and arrogant? Asking me to let my family, my very blood and flesh, die just so ten million random people can survive?” Matthew asked. “My father. My mother. My sisters and brothers. They have done so much for me, yet you want me to choose the lives of random people whom I cannot care less about?”
Silence.
“We were born in the gutter, a fate that destiny forced us to live through. For generations we were poor, as none of us can pay for education, which even the slightest well-paying job requires,” he continued. “Even for job interviews, they judge us directly through how well we dress, which costs money on its own. How unfair is that? To get money, we need to look good, which costs money. To get money, we need education, but for that we need money. How many fucking retarded cycles do I need to go through?”
Bryant glanced away.
“It was a lucky strike that I managed to become a mercenary, the closest thing to a job anyone in my family can get,” he said. “I risked my life. I worked hard. Every day. Every night. But even then, it’s barely enough to keep them alive. Prices have gone up for the past three years, healthcare are more expensive, I couldn’t pay for my youngest siblings’ education without letting them starve,” he paused. “And they need to be happy, yet I still can’t pay for their leisure. Their life comprises waiting for meals and sleep. That’s all. Is that even a life?”
“Listen, I know how much you suffered now, I understand,” Bryant said. “But to gain money by helping a lunatic kill millions? Are you happy with that?”
“Happy? I cannot afford the price of happiness,” Matthew replied. “I don’t have time for morality. I don’t have time for niceties. My family is dying, and I am the only one that can stop it.”
“But ten million—!”
“So what?” Matthew yelled. “Have those ten million done anything for me? Do I have a reason to choose them over my own family? Fuck them, they can die and rot in hell!”
Bryant gritted his teeth.
“Now all’s done and over,” Matthew’s tone softened. “I failed to kill Audi, and Mr. Simonovsky won’t pay me—“
Bryant lent his hand.
Matthew stared at the big man’s hand with empty face. He glanced at Bryant’s face. Back to the hand. The air was silent for seconds, then Bryant took a breath.
“I might not have a dying family to protect, but I know how it feels to suffer from not having money,” he said. “How about we work together?”
“What?” Matthew deepened his voice.
“Help us stop Konstantin, and afterwards, we’ll look for new mercenary contracts together. Jobs that require multiple persons often pay a lot, so we can share the payment,” he smiled. “Anything so you don’t have to sacrifice your morals to a mass murderer.”
Matthew kept silent.
“Fine,” Bryant stepped back. “You need time to think. I understand,” he paused. “We will be heading towards the observatory where Konstantin is, so let’s meet up there if you agree to my proposal.”
He didn’t answer.
“Let’s go,” Bryant turned to the boy. “Konstantin will have to pay for what he’s done. We’ve spent enough time here—“
“Too late,” Matthew spoke.
Audi and Bryant turned.
“Mr. Simonosky has already prepared his superweapon for launch. He said he’ll showcase a power bigger than the one he’s unleashed in Bente
ng City.”
“What?” Bryant panicked. “Shit, we’ve got to go!”
“With haste,” Audi nodded. “I’ll inform the Princess and Petit Fantome to prepare an assault—”
“And it’s too late for me too.”
Matthew aimed his wrist gun to his own head.
Audi and Bryant flinched.
Matthew disengaged his wrist gun’s safety. “If I don’t get the payment now, my family is dead; they haven’t eaten for days,” he smiled. “They are the reasons I keep on fighting. They are the reasons I keep on living.”
“Stop it, Matthew!” Bryant yelled. “There’s still hope—“
“I don’t want to live in a world without anyone to fight for. I don’t want to live in a world where our worth is dictated by how wealthy we are. I don’t want to live in a world where we can’t survive without money.”
“I don’t want to live in a world where money means everything.”
Matthew fired his gun.
And the bullet punched through his skull.
After a quick splash of blood, Matthew leaned sideways towards the direction of the bullet and fell in abrupt. His eyes were wide opened and his mouth slightly gaped. Bryant and Audi stood in shock, frozen in place as they watched blood pooled out of Matthew’s head.
Bryant walked slowly towards Matthew’s corpse and kneeled. He remained silent for minutes while his lower jaw shook. His arm shook. He placed his palm on Matthew’s chest then gritted it in abrupt. Bryant raised a fist to the air and punched the ground with massive force, shaking the entire warehouse.
“Audi,” Bryant’s voice was weak. “Why is it that we need money for everything?”
Audi glanced away. “That—“
“Is it because it’s the only way others can measure our worth? Our value as a human being? How hard we worked? How powerful we are?”
Silence.
Bryant stood up, albeit still shaking. “If money is a true reflection of how hard we work in life, then shouldn’t most people in the galaxy be rich? The trash collectors? The janitors? The sulfur miners who jumped into volcanoes into a mist of poisonous gas?” he continued. “If money really projects an individual’s worth into quantifiable amount, then, are you saying all poor people are worthless?”
