Niikura Shou (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
oneman_onekill) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
damned_institute2012-02-10 05:13 pm
oneman_onekill) wrote in damned_institute2012-02-10 05:13 pm
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Night 61: Mission #6 [Niikura Shou and Hamato Michelangelo]
One second he was walking through the door, the next he was standing out in the middle of a field in complete darkness. "Whoa..." Niikura took a step forward, and jumped a little more than he should have when the dirt crunched underneath his boots. It was real--well, duh, of course it was real. Teleportation wasn't one of the things he was accustomed to, though; it had just felt so surreal, watching the landscape change with the blink of an eye. To be honest, it made him feel sort of amateurish, even though he already had every necessary skill to fulfill this mission as quickly and efficiently as possible. Just one little thing, though. Niikura liked having all the possible factors under his control or at least known to him, and that included initial transportation.
But no time to think about that. They had some people to catch. He looked around for the dim shape of his friend. "Mike-san, ya here?" His voice was a quiet hiss. Even though they were a few meters away from the encampment they were supposed to raid, he didn't want to take any risks while the mission was still in its nascent stages. "We, uh..." Niikura looked down at the two guns clenched in his hands. "...oh, that's nice of 'em." One was clearly the tranquilizer gun that the file said would be provided. Two rounds only apiece. One reserve in case they missed. Not...not too bad. It added a little challenge, although he considered himself to be a decent shot on bad days.
The other...he lifted it up so he could examine it a little more closely, and then nearly laughed when he saw the shape. An M29, huh? Now all he had to do was paint "Nyuunanbu" on the barrel and it'd be like a flash from the past, except hopefully, he wouldn't have to use it at all.
He looked back up again. "What'd you get?"
But no time to think about that. They had some people to catch. He looked around for the dim shape of his friend. "Mike-san, ya here?" His voice was a quiet hiss. Even though they were a few meters away from the encampment they were supposed to raid, he didn't want to take any risks while the mission was still in its nascent stages. "We, uh..." Niikura looked down at the two guns clenched in his hands. "...oh, that's nice of 'em." One was clearly the tranquilizer gun that the file said would be provided. Two rounds only apiece. One reserve in case they missed. Not...not too bad. It added a little challenge, although he considered himself to be a decent shot on bad days.
The other...he lifted it up so he could examine it a little more closely, and then nearly laughed when he saw the shape. An M29, huh? Now all he had to do was paint "Nyuunanbu" on the barrel and it'd be like a flash from the past, except hopefully, he wouldn't have to use it at all.
He looked back up again. "What'd you get?"
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He sighed in relief when he saw the turtle exit the building and nod up at him. That was two down, just like that. This was going to be a snap; all they needed was one more person, and they'd be able to jet out of here in no time at all.
"MONSTER, THERE'S A MONSTER!"
In retrospect, he'd been counting his chickens before they hatched, or however that Western saying went. Really, he should've known or at least suspected that their ridiculous luck had not yet had the last word.
"You've gotta be kidding me..." Niikura lowered the tranquilizer gun and groaned as he watched the man sprint off into the darkness. There went any possibility of having a quiet evening. Still grumbling, he slid back down onto the ground and then mentally kicked himself in the face as immediately, all the lights in the houses around him turned on and people began flooding out, pitchforks and all.
Are you kidding me? Okay, he took back everything he'd said about these people not really understanding their situation.
"Hey! You there! Back off!"
He threw himself against the side of the building just as a bullet screamed through the space where his head had been not more than a few seconds ago. "Shit!" Niikura cursed under his breath and started running, not even pausing when another bullet grazed his shoulder. "Go!" he yelled at Mike as he approached, blood beginning to stain the blue of his uniform. "We need to get this over with! That guy...he's on his own...JUST GET HIM."
They'd worry about the specifics later; he figured that winging things was something within both of their reaches. Right, he just really wanted to get out of range.
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Alas, no, they weren't kidding. Turtle Luck struck again, and this time, it was personal. Not in the good, funny banter sort of way, either. More like the--they had pitchforks. They had pitchforks. Somehow, Mike was disappointed to not see any torches. They didn't even have flashlights. Seriously, if he was going to be running for his life, and that he was being chased by people wielding pitchforks, there were certain expectations that he expected to be upheld. These guys totally weren't holding up their end of the deal.
And then they had guns. Which really, really weren't even in the same genre. Their director needed to be fired. Immediately.
Mike was already chasing after the guy when Niikura yelled at him to go. The guy was unarmed, so he was still the best target. Niikura was hurt, and then needed to end it fast.
At least the guy was slow. Mike was able to lap him quickly and twisted to sink his fist into the man's gut, and he watched expressionlessly as the man slumped forward. No time for tranquilizers to work. Brute force was the only option.
Mike slung the guy over his shoulder and began running after Niikura. He had always been the fastest turtle, but carrying this guy was slowing him down. No time to get his collar on. They'd shoot him before he could fiddle with it.
... of course, that still begged the question of how he was going to escape. Yup. This was a great night to be out on a walk. Really great night, folks.
At least they weren't shooting at him while he carried the guy. He couldn't say the same for Niikura; he had seen the blood beginning to stain a moment before he ran, and it was already getting worse now. It wasn't likely to be lethal, and as long as he didn't get mud or anything in it, the nurses would bandage it in the morning.
Of course, they had to escape first, Mike thought to himself as he kicked a villager aside and dodged another two as he ran to catch up with Niikura. Mike wasn't sure exactly how they were going to do that, but he was pretty sure he'd come up with something.
Because as skinny as this guy was, he was still heavy enough that Mike didn't really feel like carrying him around while he got poked at by pitchforks any longer than he had to.
"I've got 'em! Let's get outta here!"
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"Don't tell me that...ah, crap," Niikura said, panting for breath as he skidded to a stop and executed a sharp turn down a nearby alleyway as the other possible paths flooded with people. What kind of town was this, huh? Were they all connected by some kind of hive mind? Actually, that made sense, since safety in numbers and all. He wouldn't have been surprised if somewhere buried in this town, there was some kind of supreme being trapped in a cocoon that sent out telepathic rays to everyone to enter Berserk Mode or whatever whenever it sensed trouble. Dystopian mangas always had something like that in them, and since his life inside the institute was starting to play out like one, it would make sense if his outside one was too--
"AUGH!" He snapped back to reality just in time to pivot neatly around the remnants of what had probably been a stop sign, although not without a truly ungainly scream. Niikura shook his head and then tried to focus his attention on someone else: Mike.
"Hey...why haven't ya put the goddamn...collar on him yet, huh?" he asked, trying to shoot the turtle his best glare as they thundered down another street. "And quit hoggin' the street!"
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At the comment about the collar, Mike let out a grunt. "Kinda only got one hand, here, N. And I ain't hogging--grab the collar and put it on!"
The sooner this guy was gone, the sooner he could go full speed--and fight with his arm. The more control he had, the less damage he would do. Sure, these people wanted to chase them down and kill them, but they didn't deserve to die for it.
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Niikura scowled--or, tried to. It was hard when you were running at breakneck speed. He reached out with a hand and tried to snag the collar from Mike's belt. Each time, though, his fingers would just barely miss, or latch on and then not be able to find purchase.
"Alright, that is it." He dug his feet in and grabbed Mike's shoulder. "Stop for a second, will ya?" There was really no time to lose, but he needed to grab that collar and fast. What he needed was a distraction. Think fast, Niikura. He had the tranquilizer gun and two darts left, but those would take a while to kick in, and they had already ground to a halt. He needed something that would be immediate.
Oh, right. His right hand went to the other holster at his side, the one that so far, had remained untouched. Room was tight, and .44 magnum went a long way, but at this point, he wasn't so concerned about innocent civilians getting in the way as he was getting out of this mess alive.
Drawing the revolver, Niikura dropped into a crouch and took aim. The first shot went through the knee of the man closest to him (and probably through a few other people's...eh, they'd live); as they stumbled and fell, sending the mob into disarray, he sent a second through a grimy streetlight, plunging the alley into darkness and showering the crowd passing underneath with small but still significant shards of glass.
No time to lose. He unhooked the collar and jammed it around their third catch's neck before punching the button and breathing an inward sigh of relief as the man vanished.
"There...got that over with..." Niikura squinted up in the darkness at Mike. "Don't call me 'N' again, hear?"
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Mike winced when Niikura shot a guy through the knee, but said nothing. He'd seen worse. It was just bad seeing it on people that were likely innocent. Niikura was a good shot, and he was glad for it. It could have been a lot worse.
With the second shot, they were covered in darkness. He stood there, waiting, listening to the crowd let out shouts and cries. It would only startle them for a few more seconds--
And then the bulk he was carrying--although it really couldn't be called that, considering the guy was thin--was gone, and Mike had his arms free.
"How about Nii, then?" Mike asked, glancing at the crowd that he could barely see. "And how 'bout we run for our lives?"
Because someone had just found the one flashlight in the entire camp and turned it on to point it at them.
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He really didn't need to be told twice about the necessity of running at this point, especially not with a flashlight beam shining right in his face. Pivoting, Niikura took off.
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He turned and broke into a run, following the teenager as the other humans started chasing them again. Running for his life was something Mike was good at, and he was nearly as good at it as being a ninja. Came with the territory. Actually, technically it didn't, since good ninjas normally didn't need to run for their lives. More like they ran to keep from being discovered or from some bomb they placed. ... Actually, that was still running for his life. Nevermind.
It would've been easy to go full speed, but Mike didn't. Those following them were half-starved. They'd tire out quickly, and then they'd be out of range. Unless they had snipers.
Mike, stop tempting the Turtle Luck, you idiot. Just run.
And so he ran out of the shanty town and into the clearing with his partner in crime.
"Think they're gonna tire soon?" Mike asked, barely sounding out of breath.
It didn't matter what Niikura's response was, because they were going to run anyways. And run they did. The refugees were indeed not healthy, and not quick--slowly, they started to fall behind them. Unfortunately, they were stubborn, and even as they fell behind, they still didn't give up the chase. It was good they were weak so that Mike didn't have to run full tilt--he could pace himself, and he knew Niikura would do the same.
After what seemed like forever, Mike and Niikura outran them all. They kept running, just to be sure. Finally, with burning lungs, Mike leaned forward, his one good hand resting on his knee. It wasn't his age, but the condition of his lungs, that kept him from going further. There was no point in pushing himself worse if they couldn't see anyone else for the moment.
"... Well, that was fun," he rasped out sarcastically. "Let's not do that again, okay?"