Match 22
#28 Nimia “The Serpent” Altamirano
Vs.
#27 Litonya “Cougar” Montoro
#26 Hira “Leopard” Corbett
And #25 Ofelia “Jaguar” Russo
Vs.
#24 Mihail “The Hound” Lupul
Guest Starring:
Luigi “Mammone” Scorava
Agent Garret Milgram
Agent Wendell Wright
Agent Noemi Shelburn
Inventory
Darling - A mystical saber imbued with the powers of fire and ice; Fire LV 2, Ice LV 1
Death & Debt - Two .44 Semi-Automatic Magnums, formerly named Sonya & Cleon; imbued with fiery bullets.
Lucky - A .357 Seven-Chambered Magnum Revolver with a ♣ symbol printed on the handle; [Passive Effect: Luck+; Active Effect: Bullets are more likely to hit targets, even by ricocheting.
Rapier - Previously owned by Owl. Good for stabbing.
Noemi Shelburn was dealing with a lot of bullshit at the moment.
White-suited freaks in plastic masks weren’t outside her experience; she’d read dossiers on the Pact before, she knew what Paradiso’s “overseers” tended to dress like with their fucked up ideals of professionalism, but the modifications they had were catching her off guard.
Gunfire wasn’t a problem for her, not anymore, but axes? Kind of catching her off guard, even as she weaved around slavers blowing holes through her papers. She formed quick enough to jab an electrified combat knife into a slaver’s throat, but the fucker just gurgle-laughed, white blood spilling from the wound as he nearly took her head off with another cut.
Then a bullet caught her in the head, sending a blast of papers out with the shot and she growled and rushed forward–splitting around two more hatchetmen–and leapt on the man firing, slamming hid to the ground and shoving her knife as deep into his eye as it would go–Then even more bullets went through her back as the man jerked and laughed, more and more white blood spilling from his body as he was lit up, and that was a problem because the blood was starting to cling.
She burst back, shoving another knife back through the head of one slaver trying to get into the next cabin, but that just left more openings and–
Then a woman in green, cybernetic armor and...a black cowboy hat(??) stepped through the opposite entrance and slammed her foot straight through the laughing man’s head, his feet jerking off the floor as she crushed his head into pulp. Then she started shooting, pulling two handguns and shooting straight through every slavers’ head in bursts of fire. And where knives and even bullets had barely done a thing, the flaming rounds blew skulls apart and sent the slavers dropping like charred flies.
“Fire kills them quick,” the woman offered, stepping closer and dismissing her guns as she went. Which was awfully trusting of her, but Noemi wasn’t going to complain.
“I’m not that good with fire, so...thanks.”
“You should work on that.” ...Was that sarcastic? “You using that guy?”
Noemi blinked, then stepped away from the pinned slaver, who was starting to struggle a lot more now that his buddies were dead.
“Thanks.” And the woman took a broken sword and stabbed what was left of its blade through the slaver’s throat. She waited for a few seconds, then pulled it back and frowned. “Hm. Right, not that then…”
“Uh...what?”
“Magic sword, broke it, trying to fix it.” She casually pulled one of her guns and shot the still struggling slaver through the head, taking care to aim away from Noemi, which was also appreciated. “Do you have any ideas?”
“...Not really, sorry. I’m more...it’s kind of a psionic thing? Something with, uh, shifting the mental image of the body causing physical transformation.”
“Sounds radical, and also not helpful at the moment. What can you turn into?”
“Paper. It’s pretty useful for infiltration.” She paused, then held out a hand. “Bureau Agent Noemi Shelburn, Investigation Division.”
The woman nodded, shaking her hand firmly. “Nimia Altamirano, Ranked Twenty-Eight. You mind if I borrow your knife?”
“I have a lot of them,” Noemi answered absently, reassessing a whole lot of this situation in her head, “And you can have them if you promise not to harm Luigi Scorava.”
“Is he ranked higher than me?”
“No.”
“Then we have no beef.” Nimia yanked the knife from the pinned corpse, then held out her hand. So Noemi handed her another knife. “I click these on, they zap people?”
“Yup.”
“Awesome. Thanks.” And then both of them were off, moving straight through the cabins with only one look back on Noemi’s part. Behind her, every cabin door was open, and all of them were full of corpses, still smoking from the holes blown through their bodies.
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Jaguar sighed, scratching at her neck as she stared at the two women in her way. The Vandalia was still chugging along, moving from plains to forests, and she was still on the top of the train.
Cougar and Leopard already went in to handle the overseers, but Jaguar was up here, dealing with knockoffs. Two of them, both in cybernetic armor. One was in orange with black stripes, and the other was in white with black stripes. “...So, are you Tiger and Zebra?”
“Bengal and Siberian,” Tiger answered.
“And you think you can handle me. Or your boss does.”
“If Madam Summerton believes we can handle you, we can,” Zebra stated.
Jaguar sighed again, deeper this time. “That’s cute. Sad, but cute. You get one shot.”
They glanced at one another instead of charging. Not quite single-minded there. The hesitation was very human.
Jaguar wasn’t moving, just keeping her hands at her sides, her posture loose and relaxed–Her foot snapped up and sent Zebra straight off her feet.
“You said we had one shot,” Tiger complained, flexing the claws in her gauntlets. Her visor was meant to be opaque, but Jaguar could see the minute flick of her eyes towards her prone sister. The relationship was obvious.
“I did. Did I say anything about letting you take it?”
Zebra was managing to push herself up, shaking, but the motions became less pained quicker than they would naturally. Modified healing then.
Jaguar tilted her head, watching the two of them. “So, does Boss Gigi have a thing about twins, or are you just replacing the brutes?”
“Triplets.” Tiger’s voice was quiet, but it carried as Zebra stood back up, no sign of damage aside from a heavily cracked helmet. “There were three of us.”
“...I’m sorry, kid.” She meant it too. It’s why she threw them off the train.
It was two quick motions–a backhand and a palm–and the two of them were flung to opposite sides of the tracks. They could find one another when the train stopped, assuming they survived.
Jaguar was, in some regards, a kind person. She was also a murderer.
“Find better names. Something for yourself,” she offered as parting advice, her words transmitted through their cracked helmets. If they took it, good for them. If they didn’t, they would die. Summerton was going to pay for fucking around here, and Jaguar was looking forward to doing the job herself.
Once she killed the snake’s worthless mutt, of course.
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Cougar worked methodically. She had little reason not to. Hasty decisions would rush the job.
She did not work slowly though. She was thorough, not slow.
When she stepped into a car, she sighted the targets present, communicated with Leopard, and eliminated them. The Overseers of Paradise were modified, so it took more effort than typical, but she worked effectively. Destruction of the brain and decapitation would remove the body’s ability to function; the modified lacked regenerative abilities extensive enough to heal from such a wound.
Victor could survive such a thing, but Victor was ridiculous, so that did not count.
She was almost surprised not to see him hiding amidst the hired killers bolstering the Overseers ranks, dressed as conductors or regular passengers. He tended to infiltrate such–
A shard of glass pinged off her helm, and she glanced to Leopard, who was already moving to the next car. She had been distracted. Unfortunate.
Cougar pulled her machete free of the overseer’s bisected skull, and cut the head off for good measure, before following Leopard out of the compartment and through the hall. Both of them carried swords, though Cougar preferred a set of saw machetes–the serrated backs of blades were good for both intimidation, and slow amputation–while Leopard carried a pair of cutlasses. Cougar never asked what the story there was, but she knew there was one.
There were two men in the next train car. That was not unexpected. They were the agents they were sent to kill, and both had white and red stains across their hands and clothes. They fought on the way, and the meat littering the floor suggested they had fought in this lounge car too.
One of them smashed, the other cut; some chunks were crushed, some pieces were sliced off.
“Now that’s just not fair. Why don’t we get self-cleaning suits?” the blond man complained, in a tone suggesting he did not care for the complaint. It was said out of humor, not genuine annoyance. A joker.
“If you want to pay out for one, we can bring it up with the brass,” the large man replied, also in humor as he sized them both up. There was camaraderie there. How cute.
Cougar raised a hand, pointing her blade at the large man, then moved it to the blond man, her threat clear.
“...Well shit. It was nice working with you, Wright.”
“We’re not dead yet.” They would be.
“Factual, but optimistic.” The blond sighed and stood, pulling his jacket off. Then he continued and pulled his shirt off. Cougar was somewhat bewildered, but she was not going to stop him.
“Any reason why you’re stripping?”
“I like that shirt. I’d rather I didn’t shred it.” Then he took a breath and erupted with spines and blades, his skin turning a steel gray as he shifted, his entire head now a mass of razor sharp blades sticking out at odd angles.
“Fair enough.” The large man did not undress, merely settled into a stance. Leopard would handle him, Cougar would take the formerly blond man. Simple–
Then the opposite door slammed open and a woman in green armor stepped through. “Huh. Greenie didn’t mention one of the agents would be a blade man, but that’s sort of rad.”
“...Uh...thanks?” The blade man appeared to be at a loss. Cougar sympathized.
She spared a glance at Leopard, who was staring directly at the green woman. And then it clicked for Cougar. This was Altamirano. Unfortunate. Now she had to avenge Owl and the runt.
“You’re welcome. You’re also welcome for getting your paper pal to Lou back there. Nice kid, little nervous, and Greenie filled me in on everyone. I don’t feel like recapping, we’d just be repeating info, so head on back and relax in the spectator seats, got it? This is a ranked fight, not a cool weirdos with superpowers thing.”
The two men glanced at one another, and the big man nodded. “Thank you. I'll trust you to handle things then.”
“Yeah, thanks. I’m not really the death match type,” the blade man lied, before picking up his shirt and leaving very casually for a man turning his back on a predator.
So Cougar threw her machete at the man, the blade flying straight and true at full force before Altamirano batted it aside with Owl’s rapier, where it stuck straight in the wall. “Leave the nice men in peace, kitty. Nobody likes a clingy cat.”
Cougar disagreed. The men still left though, if somewhat more hurried. That was fine.
They would die soon enough.
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Jaguar ambled casually to the front of the train, her pace unhurried. Lupul made himself easy to find, though it wasn’t like he was bothering to hide.
The mutt was sitting right on top of the front car, his legs crossed as he held a transceiver to his ear. Which was making some kind of noise…
“Are you listening to music?” she asked, pausing at a decent distance behind him. No need to get into range too quickly.
“Yup. I got bored. I don’t get how announcer people just wait when there aren’t announcements. Or maybe they don’t? Maybe they wander off, live their lives...never thought of it before.”
“Is that any different from usual?”
“Nah. There’s too much in the world to understand everything.” He stood and stretched, working the cricks out of his neck. He was wearing a full bodysuit of nanoweave, but without any armored plates. It was skintight, clinging to him, and he wore what looked like a sky-blue leather harness over his torso. It criss-crossed over his back and chest as he turned, showing how it wound up to a collar at his throat and down to loop at his thighs and over his biceps, winding up to his wrists. His head was fully covered, two narrow, visored slits in blue to serve as sights. On top of his head, he had a pair of white spikes, designed to look like pointed dog ears.
“And you don’t bother to try.”
“Do you?” He shrugged, holding his hands at his sides, palms up. “You live the same kind of life as mine. We’re strong, but we’re not...what’s the word...free?”
“I’m free. You’re thinking ‘independent’.”
“Ah.” Lupul shrugged again, scratching at the back of his head. “So many syllables, you think they could use a simpler word.”
“Sure, simple, just like you. What was with the triplets back there?”
“Triplets? There’s only two though. I know, I killed the third.”
Jaguar’s grin twitched under her helmet. “Course you did. You’ve always been a piece of shit.”
“Hey now, don’t be rude. You know that rough talk gets me going, and that’ll be embarrassing for both of us.”
“Why did you bring those girls? They weren’t nearly enough to handle me.”
“I know that. I wanted to fuck with you. You’ve always been soft for kittens. Boss thinks we can market them, ‘Bengal and Siberian’, but they’re clones. Who gives a shit for those? We can still use the names, and this gives the names credits. I can say they helped me kill you, and who’s going to know different?”
“Ha! Like you could kill me! You had five chances before this, and you fucked up all of them!”
“No, no, you have that reversed. You missed your opportunities, and now they’ve run out.”
“Sure they have.” She rolled her shoulders, then flexed her wrists, forming two black gauntlets at the back of her hands. Simple metal plates with spiked knuckles, solid and brutal; the left was carved with a skull, while the right had a rose. “Just one more question before I put you down, mutt.” His head tilted, questioning. “You could work for anyone. You’re trash, but you’re tough trash. So why the slaver queen?”
“...That’s your question, huh.” He crossed his arms over his chest, tapping one finger against his bicep. “...Have you ever been fucked?”
“That’s a personal question. Also a fucking weird one, mutt.”
“You’re not getting me.” Lupul leaned forward, putting one hand on his chest, his voice intense. “Have you ever been fucked? Not ‘had sex’, ‘been fucked’. Just stopped being a person with agency. Surrendered to another person, so completely and utterly, that there was no other thought in your mind but the pleasure they were giving you. Becoming a thing, not a person. Knowing they hold everything you could be in their power, that you have no choice and they do. Being dominated. Have you ever had that?”
That was more passion than she ever heard from the callous bastard. But it explained something. “No, that’s a new one. And it looks like I lied. I have one more question.” She took a stance, watching for any hint of movement from him. “Do you love her?”
“...” He didn’t take any steps, just tilting his head back and staring at the sky. “...I don't think I do. I lust for her. That’s enough.”
“...Maybe for you.”
“Do you love your rose, cat?”
“Yes. Like a patriot loves her flag.”
“Lame. But that’s not new. You’ve always been pathetic, you fucking cockroach.”
Jaguar laughed without humor as orange flames licked up her armor, bursting out through the plates. “Same to you, you shitty louse.”
Both fighters rushed at the same time, fires burning off their bodies as they smashed fist against fist, sending plumes of orange and blue flames washing across the top of the train, before a flurry of blows collided with each other between the two, vicious and destructive, when Jaguar took the initiative and a leg sweep knocked Lupul down, a second kick sending him straight off the train when he thrust out a hand and caught the side with a spiked rope and yanked himself back on, landing easily. So easy toss was out–
Then it was back to blocking and meeting kicks and punches, each hitting hard and sending a rush of heat over her body that her own heat easily met. Not enough to overwhelm him though, same as before, so the chances of this going on for a long while were pretty damn high.
Maybe her girls were having better luck?
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“Hey, real quick, before we start,” Nimia spoke up, holding up a hand to her pair of opponents. And hey, they actually humored her, so that was nice. Always good to get the polite killers. So she pointed to Leopard–who was really obvious with the spotted armor–and continued, “Do you wear leopard print undies?”
“...”
“...”
Cougar–or at least who she figured was Cougar by process of elimination and lack of spots–stared at her in visible confusion, apparently baffled, then looked to her partner, who looked very fidgety for a professional assassin. “...Really?”
“...The pattern looks sexy.”
Cougar sighed, then Nimia brought her rapier up to block the chop straight from her side–so Cougar could teleport and moved straight to her side, took the machete in the wall, tore it out and–She lurched back, dodging a stab, then ducked as Leopard rushed in, cutting and swinging as every light in the traincar burst at once, plunging the interior into pitch-black darkness.
Nimia pulled an electro-knife, flipping it upside-down in her left hand and stabbed back, trying to catch distance with Leopard–whose armor was completely black now, looking like a living shadow and crap, the trees outside the train were casting big shadows through the windows, that was–
She flinched back, blinking the spots from her eyes as Cougar erupted with light, shining a pure white as she–Nimia twisted, parrying cuts from behind then kicked out, putting distance–Cutlass nearly went through her there, she twisted just barely, Leopard was hiding in the darkness–
Her vision was going weird, some kind of effect? Light and darkness were flashing through the windows, casting things in either pure black or pure white and the cats were hiding in both. Cougar was in the light, flashing between light beams, and Leopard was in the shadow, moving and twisting in ways a human couldn’t naturally, so Nimia was on the back foot with two killers she could barely see–
She drove her elbow back, smashing into steel and turned with the motion, nearly driving the knife through Cougar’s head, then moved with the motion and thrusted at Leopard, catching the blades, and the two of them exchanged slices, steel ringing out as Nimia looked through the light spots, because there were only so many places she could–
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More spots in her vision but now because there was way too much light! Was the fucking forest on fire?!
And it was, sort of, because up above Jaguar had been sent skidding across the train by a sharp kick from Lupul and flared her flames out to rocket straight back into the fight, sending plumes of fire out into the trees on either side, setting them all alight, but Nimia had no way of knowing that, so back to her suddenly being overwhelmed with light.
But she could see Leopard just fine for a moment, so she lunged, telegraphing the stab and then whirling to kick Cougar straight in the face while chucking the knife at Leopard, before rushing in to take the chance–Fuck, she moved!
Nimia turned again, saw Leopard yank the knife from her shoulder, but Cougar wasn’t there–She brought up the rapier to block a hard cut from the side and scowled as she broke another sword straight in half, though Cougar’s machete snapped too and when the 27th whirled, flashing behind Nimia again, she didn’t bother with an elbow, turning faster and stabbing back into Cougar’s throat with the extra knife she got from Papers.
She didn’t expect Cougar to drop her machete and grab her wrist though, holding her tight in place even as electricity coursed through the 27th–Nimia tried to turn, but Cougar’s free hand grabbed her by the neck as Leopard shoved one of those cutlasses straight through her back and out her front in a burst of blood and pain–
Nimia wrapped her free arm around Cougar and yanked her into a tight hug, sending the sword stabbing through her chest piercing into Cougar’s, then grabbed the cutlass’s blade before Leopard could yank it back, holding it even as it cut into her hand–She jerked her head, narrowly avoiding a thrust that would’ve gone through her brain and twisted, trying to get away from–
Then Cougar flashed away, and Nimia just had a fucking sword in her chest and a bitch in black lunging for her, the second blade gleaming in the light as she swung for her head–
Then all the light from outside cut out all at once as the train entered a tunnel, plunging the whole cabin into pitch-black darkness, aside from the glowing bright white figure of–And Nimia lurched back, pulling her revolver even as the blade swiped through her throat, and fired three shots straight through Cougar’s head.
28 -> 27
Nimia shoved the cutlass back, pushing it right out of her torso as she felt the burn at her neck, and let out a breath as the deep wound healed rapidly, along with the cut at her throat–Then she jerked, dodging stab after stab as Leopard lunged for her, thrusting and cutting faster and faster–Cougar’s light was flickering, the former 27th’s collapsed and bleeding gold on the floor, so the 26th had to know what happened–and definitely nicking her a few times–Shit, she needed to grab the first cutlass, if Leopard got both at once–
It clinked at her feet and she stepped back, kicking it up and catching the cutlass before she swung back, catching each swing and deflecting each thrust but she was still on the back foot, fighting an opponent that moved way too quickly and somehow was never where she tried to stab–The dark, one used light, the other darkness, so she just needed light again and her fucking fire sword was broken–
An idea clicked in her head and she decided to try a trick she already went for, bringing her broken darling out into her free hand and dove through the dark to stab it straight into the corpse. If it gained power through death, then blood should fix it, it was fucking logical…
But apparently the universe disagreed, because her darling was still broken and that made her seethe in building rage, unfair and petty as it was. Death match, don’t complain, but fuck it, she liked her damn sword and now when the fucking fire would come in real handy, it wasn’t–
On instinct, she twisted and swung to try to catch the blade stabbing down at her, but she swung with her broken sword–Which burst with fire as the blade reformed and caught straight against Leopard’s cutlass, lighting the whole room up and searing away the shadows visibly roiling off of Leopard’s armor. The 26th had looked twisted, taller and stretched almost inhumanly, but now she was normal, and Nimia grinned wide as the tide turned in her favor.
And right on cue, they left the tunnel completely, bringing natural light back into the cabin. So Nimia pressed her advantage–And got a hard knee in the stomach for her troubles as Leopard snatched the cutlass from her grip and full on flipped backwards, making some distance between them.
Then she let out a slow breath, and Nimia noticed a very sudden drop in temperature. Leopard stood, rolling her head as the black of her armor shifted. The black spots still stayed, but the primary color shifted to a grayish-white as snow started to flake off the 26th.
“Snow, huh...y’know, this thing can turn icy too,” Nimia offered, testing the weight of her newly reformed saber in her right hand. She flicked her other wrist and brought Lucky back out, fully reloaded, one sword and one gun up against two swords. “I haven’t figured out how to get it really going though. Not to the same level as the fire.”
“...” Leopard tilted her head, considering that, then suddenly sent her arm shooting forward, stretching unnaturally as her armor flashed back to black–but it wasn’t going for Nimia, instead grabbing Cougar by the ankle and yanking the corpse over, holding it upside down, where Leopard cut straight through it, splitting the body in half. Golden blood soaked the cutlass, then it seemed to soak in, and the sword lit up with a bright, white light that made the shadows roiling off the 26th noticeably start to curdle.
Leopard tossed the corpse to the side, and her armor turned back to its white version, the frost on the windows rapidly returning as she rolled her wrist, showing off the now light-infused cutlass. “That is how you do it.”
“...Hm. Thanks, I guess.”
Leopard nodded, weirdly casual, then burst forward in a sudden rush of motion as Nimia fired, the bullets going straight through a body that was more snow than skin, then it was back to parrying and cutting and trying to deal with the fact that her opponent had two swords–one of which was remarkably glowy–and she had one. She was handling it pretty decently though, and having Lucky in the mix let her deflect some swipes with the very solid gun, and get some shots in that still didn’t seem to do shit.
The room was getting colder too, frost creeping faster and causing the windows to crack as snow started blanketing the floor. The temperature seemed to drop every second, and Nimia felt her armor starting to get stiff, the plates locking together as the cold hit them–definitely needed temp regulators, thing to get after this fight–and even with a burning sword, she couldn’t actually hit Leopard with it. The 26th was a good swordfighter, Nimia had to give her that, so she dove past her and shot straight through the windows, smashing them to pieces and sending a rush of wind through the cabin.
It wasn’t quite enough to completely disperse the cold, but it didn’t feel nearly as bad...and there was a lot of noise coming from up top, huh, and a lot of fire–“I’m a fucking moron.”
“I noticed.”
Nimia jerked back, narrowly avoiding two cutlasses stabbing into the floor beside her and rolled to avoid the sudden flash of bright light, getting to her feet and dismissing both her sword and her revolver in favor of bringing out Death and Debt. Her semi-automatic magnums which both had fiery bullets!
Leopard stood, flicking her swords out at her sides as she studied the newfound confidence–Then she got shot through the eye, noticed it actually hurt, and very quickly realized that those were very burny bullets currently being shot at her. She jerked back, trying to switch back to her “black panther” form and get out, when it clicked that she was still holding her light cutlass and that it didn’t mesh well at all with her dark form.
So– “Fuck.”
27 -> 26
Nimia let out a slow breath, because, as anti-climactic as that was, her heart was racing like hell. Even with the burning sensation at her neck as her number changed, she took a moment to watch Leopard’s corpse, riddled with bullets and slumped under a newly ventilated window. When the body fell over, she nearly shot it again, before letting out another breath and dismissing her guns.
“Right...Good fight. Not sure if I want to test the sword thing right now, I already screwed up on forgetting some of my stuff, so…” She shrugged, before taking both cutlasses and laying them in front of Leopard. “We’ll see how things go.”
For now, she had one more fight to get to. First things first though, she needed to figure out where the hell her hat landed...
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Jaguar snarled, the metal warping under her feet as she dug in, putting as much force as possible into her punch, smashing into Lupul’s jaw as his fist crashed against hers, both of their heads snapping to the side before they both punched with their other fists, hitting each other at the same time. By this point, they weren’t even blocking, just trying to wear the other fucker down and she slammed her skull full against Lupul’s in a solid headbutt, cracking her already fractured visor even further.
Then he clapped his hands to her head and sudden drove her down, smashing his knee straight into her face, and as she rocked back, he went full force, punching straight for her head when she grabbed his forearm and twisted, throwing him straight over her shoulder, only for him to roll straight to his feet–
She paused, staring at Nimia Altamirano as the woman flipped up onto the roof of the train. Her being here meant her team was dead. That was a shitty feeling.
The younger woman, fully armored and wearing a cowboy hat for some reason, stared back as Lupul stood to his full height, glancing from her to Jaguar and back again. “...heh. Guess we got a new partner here. Always did strike me as a slut, Jag.”
“Buddy, you have zero right to comment on sexual preference with that get-up,” Altamirano stated, sounding unimpressed and earning a flare of flame from Lupul.
“Mmh, alright, you can say that. Already hard here, so fuck it.”
“Didn’t need to know that, but kay.” Altamirano flicked a hand out, and that was a gorgeous sword in her hand, burning with murderous passion and open rage…
“Another fire? And it’s even colder than Jag’s. Lame.” Lupul rolled his shoulders, turning to face her and away from Jaguar. “That’s fine though. I can handle you–”
“Awwww shit! Look at this!” Nero’s voice echoed out from below them, over the intercoms, catching Lupul and Altamirano’s attention, “Goddamn, we missed some shit! Now that ain’t fair, you three oughta give me some warning! What’re our gracious viewers gonna think if they miss a huge chunk of action!? ...Wait, they knew? We didn’t? Aw, bitches, runnin’ around with us…
“Whatever! Point goin’ on here is that there’s a threeway up on train top! The twenties–which, by the way, only count for twenty-nine through twenty-five so c’mon, you really gonna stick to that nickname? Really? Any rate, most outta five are dead, no spoilers, and the boss of the bunch, that’s a Miss Ofelia Russo, born and raised pitfighter from Xiomara, is up against longstanding rival and evil sonofabitch, Mihail Lupul! That’s right, this’s a grudge match, and Nimmy, that’s our own Nimia Altamirano, is interruptin’! Not quite sportin’, but hey, this ain’t a sport!
“Anyway, yadda yadda, match is already goin’, blood’s been spilled, don’t steal my fuckin’ bit Lupul, and the grand prize is some scrawny kid from the Scorava’s! So aim for the prize, take what you want, and don’t forget to grab Jaguar there, cuz she’s already runnin’!”
“Wha-” Mihail whirled, looking to see Jaguar sprinting down the length of the train, then scowled furiously, immediately throwing his hand out and launching his tether straight for her, aiming to spear the coward in the back–When she ducked under it, grabbed the edge, and suddenly yanked, throwing him up and much, much further than before as his tether unspooled. His eyes went wide, a yelp slipping out as he’s thrown, before he shook off his surprise, still mid air and already twisting, throwing his hand out to blast out a burst of flame, shifting his momentum back before she could throw him right in front of the train–
And Jaguar smirked, twisting her grip on the cord she had between both her hands, looped partially around her forearm, and yanked, full force, once Lupul’s feet hit the train. In an instant, any balance he had was ripped away and he was thrown upward again, his eyes going wide at the sheer strength the damned bitch still had, but he shook it off, again, because he was still stronger and as long as he kept his eyes on her–
Nimia stepped forward, one hand on her saber, and cut straight up, carving right through Lupul and splitting him in half in one swift motion. He flew past her, the cord severed and a brief flash of confusion hitting him as he tried to figure out how he was seeing in two places at once–
26 -> 24
“...”
“Heh.” Jaguar reached up, and shoved at her shoulder, trying to pop it back into its socket. It just...wasn’t quite working at the moment. There was a rush going through her body. Post-fight jitters, where all the adrenaline...didn’t quite bleed off.
The cord was still looped around her right forearm, and maybe that was cutting off circulation. She hadn’t been fixed up from Lupul's death. It wasn’t her win.
“...Alright. I’ll give you that one,” Altamirano said, shrugging. Her armor was soaked with Lupul’s blue blood, though there was plenty of red staining it too. “It was more your fight than mine, wasn’t it?”
“You could see it like that, sure! I prefer to think of this as a mutual kill here, and an opportunity for the both of us!”
“I’m not interested in joining your group. I’m going to kill your boss at some point for his rank, so it would be awkward for all of us.”
Jaguar bit back a laugh. Altamirano’s confidence was just too cute, even if Jaguar was still pissed at the new 24th for killing her teammates. “Sure, sure, awkwardness should be avoided, I get that. It’s all good with me. All I’m asking here is that you let me walk away. You’re ranked higher, so there’s no need for us to fight.”
“Sure, go ahead.”
...Well that was easy. Weird. “Huh. Hey, just one question here. If you’re fine with letting me go, why didn’t you just kill Lupul first and skip over my whole team?”
Altamirano shook her head. “That wouldn’t work. For one thing, I’m not trying to skip. Fate moves in strange ways, but a general truth is that a ranked can’t kill another ranked if they’re too high up. Maybe you’ve given it a try, maybe you haven’t, but there’s an order to it. And you can’t honestly tell me your teammates hadn’t warranted killing.”
“Is that a moral stance I hear? From a murderer?”
“Yup. The way I see it, everyone with a number is a guaranteed killer. Maybe that makes it better, maybe it doesn’t, but my conscience is already ruined.”
“...I lied about the question. I want to ask more. Who was your first kill?”
“Ocer. That’s the only name I knew him by. My teacher, Amber, guided me through it. It was with a knife, so I knew what I was doing the whole time. Just one stab, right through the neck. Unless you mean before that? Because I helped my dad put down a diseased coyote back in the day. Used a knife then too, after he shot it. He wanted me to get a good feel for what it took before he let me help with the farm animals.” She chuckled. “Isn’t it weird? Two people, two different life experiences, and they still wanted me to learn the same lesson...Can I ask who yours was?”
“Sure you can, ask away.” Jaguar smirked at the audible huff, then sat down, cross-legged on top of the train, thinking back to the sunny streets of her seaside hometown. “Hm...I don’t actually remember his name. He was a kid I knew, that I grew up with. There was always something off about him, and he tried to strangle me one day, so I jammed my thumb into his eye, punched him down, and just kept hitting until I figured out I should be stomping instead...I think he wanted something I had? Maybe?”
“...That’s...rough. I’m sorry?”
“Oh don’t be. I never went to jail for it, and my own pops wasn’t the type to notice if I looked bloodier than usual. Hell, he got mad at me for dripping water in the house after I tried showering off with the hose.”
“...” Altamirano wasn’t sitting. That was a concern. “...You were a pitfighter after that?”
“Yup. I had a talent, and it brought in cash. Pops always bet on me too. I took the name ‘Jaguar’ back then, and I’ve kept it ever since. Leopard was my first real teammate, partner, all that. I recruited her from a paramilitary group down south. Cougar was a fixer for another mob, Owl was a professional assassin, and Crow wanted in. She made her own way with her own skills, and I respected that.”
“You’re sharing a lot.”
“Maybe you’re easy to talk to. No take backs on letting me live, right?”
“No. At least, I didn’t think so. It depends a lot, right now, on if you’re still going for Luigi Scorava or not.”
Fuck. “...You shouldn’t go back on your word, kid.”
“I didn’t give you my word. I’m still willing to let you leave. I just don’t want you to hurt that guy.”
Jaguar chuckled as she pushed herself back to her seat, faking a slight stumble before she stood straight. “That’s really nice of you, Nimia–Can I call you Nimia?”
“Sure.”
“Thank you. I just want you to think this over. How much do you actually know about this kid? You know he’s ranked, right?”
“I know. He’s not higher than me.”
“But he’s still a murderer. And you don’t totally care about that, I know, but have you given any thought to who he murdered? Or how about to what family he’s from? You might be biting off way more than you can chew here if you piss off Don Scorava. He’s a fair man, to his friends, but he’s not gentle to his enemies.”
“I already killed at least three of his best.” Three? “I think I’m already on his shitlist.”
Jaguar ignored the suggestion one of her teammates might be alive, focusing on the conversation and just how she could get through this without fighting a bad match. Closing the distance wasn’t smart, not with the sword, and she didn’t like her chances in another slugfest, not with how sore she felt. “Not yet, you’re not. Losses suck, but sometimes they happen. You weren’t trying to screw with the job then, it was just collateral from your own mission. So there’s no need to shed any more blood.”
“So you’d let the agents live then?”
“Of course I would,” Jaguar lied, “I have non-lethal techniques that I can use to incapacitate. I don’t have to kill them.”
“But you would still be taking a man against his will to the people he wanted to get away from.”
“Yes, but the Scorava’s are his family! They care about him, he would be fine there. The Bureau just wants to use him, we’re just returning him home. His family would never hurt him.”
“I doubt that. I really doubt that.” She sighed, then stared straight at her, and Jaguar felt a rush of tension hit her at the sight of those green eyes, somehow bright through the visor. “I killed my brother, y’know? I had two brothers, Marco and Hector. Marco was executed in front of me by men killing for money. Hector, I killed on my own, because he destroyed our family. For money. So I killed the men who killed for money, I killed the man who paid them money, I burned his mansion to the ground, and then I drove after my brother in that shitty truck he stole to get away.
She looked up at the sky as the sun came out from behind the clouds. “I shot the other men in the truck first. The ones from the manor. The truck flipped, at some point, and I remember how he crawled. His last words to me were ‘Nimia, for the love of God, please’. I feel like I should have said something. ‘Yes, for the love of God’, maybe. But I didn’t. I just shot him.”
“...” Jaguar nodded, slowly. She still had a gun in her inventory. A black handgun, a custom job. All of them had at least one. “You had your revenge, and it wasn’t enough.”
“No, it wasn’t. Because to take it, I had to kill the man with the money, and he was Ranked. So now...why not? Either I get to the top, or I live long enough to die. And that’s not a life.” Nimia lowered her gaze, those fucking eyes still boring into her soul. “I want to win. You don’t need to die for that.”
“Sure. How well do you even know this man, hm?”
“Not at all. I said hi, talked to Eliza, and went this way once I knew what the situation was. I said maybe two words to him, max.”
Jaguar scoffed. “And you’re willing to die for a man like that? For nothing?”
“No. I’m not willing to die. I’m willing to kill though.”
She sighed, slowly shaking her head. “God help compassionate idiots…” Then snapped her hand up, the gun formed–
Jaguar jerked back, six shots going straight through her chest and a seventh piercing right through her eye, snapping her head back hard.
Then she dropped, flat against the top of the train, watching the clouds cover the sun again...
----------------------------------------
The Vandalia stopped a lot sooner than it should’ve. There were a few reasons for that; aside from all the carnage and murder that’d gone on aboard it, the engineers at the front were all already dead, and Nimia really didn’t trust herself to stop the train properly at an actual station.
Visions of accidentally derailing the whole thing and somehow smashing it through an orphanage played through her head as she tore the wiring out of the front console. Smart guess was that no power meant the whole thing would stop as its momentum slowed on the flat stretch of land, and she was right about that, so once it slowed to a stop, she hopped off and started walking to the back.
Safe bet was that everyone moved to the back of the train to avoid the fighting, and it quickly became clear Nimia was 2 for 2 today on guesses. Shelburn and the big black dude were pulling corpses from the cars and laying them out on the field while Greenie, Lou, and the white guy were chatting closer to the train. Well, Greenie and Stabby were chatting, Lou was staring at the bodies with a haunted look. Definitely not a natural killer there.
“Yo, Greenie!” Nimia called out, raising a hand in greeting as her minion glanced over.
“Hey boss! I see you’ve still got your hat, but I’ve still got mine, so-” Greenie paused as Nimia flicked her hat off, then frowned. “...That’s cheating.”
“You didn’t say it was. I win. Speaking of, are you handling payment here?”
“Oh yeah, Milgram here wanted to negotiate an extension on that, by the by.”
Nimia looked to the agent, who was still shirtless, and raised an eyebrow, waiting for an explanation.
“Having a professional mercenary and a ranked killer on our side sounds good when we might have to deal with other ranked killers.” He shrugged. “It’s easy math.”
“My first instinct is to say no, but I want to hear your offer first.”
He shrugged again. “What do you want?”
“Three billion dollars?”
“Done. What’s your bank account-” Milgram paused, then glanced up at the big guy looming over him. “Heya Wright. The ladies want three bil to stay onboard.”
“...” Wright looked at Nimia. “Did he send you the money already?”
And Nimia looked at Greenie, who shook her head. “Nope.”
“Right. That...might need to be further negotiated. Is it a blanket payment for the whole job?”
Nimia shrugged. “Sure, I can be generous. But I also want a…” She looked at Greenie again. “Can you fly a plane?”
“I can fly a helicopter.”
Nimia nodded, looking back to Wright. “I also want a helicopter.”
“I can guarantee a helicopter.”
“You also cover all travel expenses.”
“We were already doing that.”
“Then I need one more thing. Can I talk to Lou?”
“...” The agents looked at each other, before Wright slowly nodded. “We’ll be traveling together for however long this takes, so sure.”
“Thanks.” She nodded to them, then went over to the man in question, who was still staring at the corpses. “Afternoon.”
“...G-Good afternoon,” he greeted back, then took a slow breath and looked towards her. His red eyes were shaky, looking like they wanted more than anything to look anywhere else. Where else that was, Lou didn’t seem to know. “...Thank you. For, uh...for keeping everyone safe.”
“I was here to kill the Ranked on the train. Protecting you guys was incidental.” She stared down at him, watching him fidget and nearly look away. “That will happen to you one of these days.”
“...H-Ha. It’s already happening…These were the first...really trying to kill me though. Rest wanted me alive.”
“What number are you?”
“...T-Two hundred and...s-seventy ei-...no, no, uh, seventy-four now, I think. Seventy three? Some of the burns were...close. I dunno.”
“You can check in a second. My point here is that you have someone guaranteed to go after you. The two seventy-fifth, two seventy-fourth, whoever’s behind you, is going to want you dead for the number you have. Someone will want you gone so they can get just a little closer to the peak. And they will try to find you, no matter where you go.”
He was staring at her now. Not quite evenly, but his eyes were stuck on hers. “...y-yeah. I know.”
“You won’t live forever. That’s not how this works. You might live long, or you might die quick, but you will die at some point. All that number guarantees is that your death will be violent. You can’t go gentle. Not anymore.”
“Yeah. Yeah. I...I know. I do.”
“So what are you going to do, when they get you where you’re going? You know, one day, someone will go for you. Maybe they’ll be bold and open about it, challenging you. Or maybe they’ll just shoot you in the head while you’re walking to get groceries. If you climb to the highest peak in the world, someone will climb. If you sink the lowest depths of the oceans, someone will dive. What are you going to do about it?”
“Die, I guess.”
Nimia raised an eyebrow. She waited for the rest.
“...” Lou shrugged, scratching awkwardly at the back of his head. “...I’m not a fighter. I’m not a good killer. I’m not a good son...If someone comes to kill me, for my rank...I don’t think I’ll live.”
Nimia nodded. “Want me to do it, right now? I’ll make it quick. I might have to fight your buddies, but I promise I won’t kill them. Just you.”
“...” He swallowed.
“...”
“...” Lou took a slow breath, then shook his head. “No.”
“It’s a way out. An easy one. I’ll be quick, and you’ll know it’s coming. I don’t know if it’ll be painless, I can’t guarantee that, but I would try to make it.” It wasn’t a real argument. She just wanted to check.
And he shook his head again. “No. I don’t...It’s not that...It’s not selfless. Don’t think that. I’m just...I don’t want to die. I have...there’s more. I could do more.” Lou let out a shuddering breath, but nodded. “I want to live.”
“Decent answer. Do you want to climb? To get out?”
“No. I’m fine where I am. I don’t want to kill anyone else.”
“Then you’re going to die. Sooner or later, you will.”
“Yeah. Someday I’ll die, and I won’t know where it comes from. Like a regular person.”
Nimia nodded. “If that’s your path. Hope you enjoy it.”
“...It could be yours-”
“No, it won’t. I could. But I won’t.”
“...What do you feel when you kill someone?”
“Triumph.”
He stared at her, red eyes meeting green. The coward and the killer. And there was–awful or glorious or mundane as it was–a respect there.
Nimia took the job. On the additional conditions that the agents taught her and Greenie how to do the psionic stuff. It seemed handy.
She also doubled back to go get those cutlasses from Leopard’s body, and found both the swords and the corpse were completely gone. And up top, Jaguar’s body had vanished too.
So that was a potential issue down the line. Well, something to figure out when it came up.
For now, she had an escort mission to complete.
----------------------------------------
“Mmm...ah, Mister Wakuri?” Mantis tapped at her helmet, frowning a little. “Miiiister Wakuuuuri? Are you there? Calling? Speaking? H-Hello hello?”
Then she jumped at the sudden crackle of noise in her ear and shook her head, trying not to curse her boss’s perfectly fine equipment that definitely worked just fine and wasn’t getting busted or something. And if it did, it wasn’t her fault, because she definitely didn’t try throwing her helmet at a toad to scare it away or anything like that…
“I read you, Miss Mantis,” came the reply of her superior, and she tried not to sigh with relief at the sound, “Do you have anything to report?”
“Ah, yes, I found one individual.” She poked the wrecked body lying on a bloodstained patch of grass with a stick, staring at the mass of broken black. There was clearly a person in there, under black fabric, but they’d lost limbs. Maybe an arm? Or a leg...or both. “I don’t know if it’s alive-”
She flinched as a hand gripped the stick, clutching it hard enough to crack. “...Confirmation that Crow of the ‘Twenties’ is still alive.”
“Good. I presume she still retains her rank?”
“I would have to check, and…” She tried to twist the stick, frowning under her full-faced helmet–simple civilian garb for the moment, the black jeans and camo hoodie marking her as a scavenger–as it snapped. “It would be inappropriate to undress a girl out in public, sir.”
“It would, yes. I appreciate your consideration.”
“Thank you, sir! How goes it with the other two? Ah, if I can ask, sorry.”
“It’s fine, Miss Mantis. They’ve already been extracted via fulton. Can you do the same for Miss Crow?”
“Hm…” Mantis studied the broken woman, watching the rattle of her breaths, the twitch of her clearly broken limbs...and the utterly vicious glare she was giving through the broken lenses of her mask. Not so broken then, and a little scary as a result… “I think that might hurt her worse.”
“Then I’ll route the jeep to your location. Do take good care of her on the way.”
“Understood, sir!” She nodded, then crouched by Crow, watching her carefully for any movement. Still some struggle, but it was weak. Maybe anger was keeping her going? Maybe. The burning rage, the type that builds in your chest and pounds in your head, and drives you do lash out even when it’ll hurt you ,break you, even when your body was screaming at you to stop, the type that would shatter your hand to splinters in order to punch out God...
Mantis let herself smile, unnatural as it always felt. Even knowing her boss’s plans, what would happen and could happen, didn’t keep the anxious excitement down. She found someone like her. And she was going to be her very best friend.
“Yeah, you’re going to be great.”