05 • gunfire•
Industrial Street of the Second District in Zone Three
26 days to Zero Hour
She thought that being kidnapped by the Bureau and forced to cooperate was strange. However, things took an even stranger turn when they had to assimilate into new conditions.
Their temporary mentor enthusiastically informed them that not everyone would have a spot on Ace Busterrix's team, despite the fact that there were only five positions available, and they were a group of ten, leaving half of them unclassified. To address this issue, Urs proposed a swift evaluation in the form of a test that would immediately determine the successful candidates. The test involved being placed in a peculiar setting—a completely unfamiliar district with abandoned outskirts—and tasked with locating five items scattered within a five-kilometer radius.
What struck her as even more peculiar wasn't the fact that they were immediately sent on a hunt for seemingly trivial items right after a nap.
No, the oddest part of this situation was coming face to face with a former colleague who was now temporarily on the opposite side of the barricade.
When a fair-haired member of Busterrix's gang directly addressed her, that same irritating smile on an equally vexing face was unmistakable.
It was Urs Daymour, the young man she had worked alongside for several months, robbing the wealthier neighborhoods of Ninjago City. Urs Daymour, a boy who, just a few years ago, looked drastically different from the last time she had seen him – with short, greasy hair, a chubby face, and a bit of a paunch. And lastly, Urs Daymour, a former accomplice whom she had duped and abandoned to the mercy of the police to save her own skin.
She thought she was in prison not only for theft, but also for drug antics. However, it turned out otherwise; Urs wandered in the wild, enlisted in a gang of dangerous criminals,, and what's worse – he was her supervisor at the moment, and she bet he would want to destroy her.
This disturbing revelation did little to ease her frustration as she scoured the alleys and empty tenement houses in search of her assigned item. Time was ticking; they had an hour to locate it and return to their present headquarters. Those who returned empty-handed would be cast aside.
"I'm sick of it," she muttered under her breath while climbing the fire escape to one of the tenement rooftops.
Did Urs still bear a grudge against her? If not, he must be a saint. After all, she'd be furious if someone had locked her in a room, only to have the police show up a few minutes later and run off with all the loot.
Yes, she was in deep shit. Urs likely concealed his anger behind a pleasant façade, fully aware that he held the power to turn her life into a living nightmare, whether she succeeded or failed at this task.
Finally, she reached a flat roof, which offered a panoramic view of the territory they needed to search. Dusk was slowly settling in, indicating that half their allotted time remained. Yet, she had no clue where the object might be hidden. It could be anywhere. Adding to the challenge, they were clueless about what the object even was – a ball, a condom, a book?
She sighed heavily, massaging her neck as the weight of the situation pressed down on her.
The reason she didn't recognize Daymour while reviewing Gang B's file was simple: Urs had undergone a drastic transformation. He no longer resembled the man she once knew, having shed his former appearance that included the potbelly and short, greasy hair. His cheeks, once hamster-like, had slimmed down, and he had undergone a total glow-up. In the file itself, only Daymour was mentioned, as Urs frequently changed nicknames like gloves, making it difficult to discern his true identity. It was even possible that the name itself was forged. Given this, she wouldn't have been able to identify him from the brief description, which only stated, "a petty thief, formerly involved in drug dealing, with a criminal record."
However, she couldn't help but wonder why the all-knowing Callean hadn't said a word. He might have been aware of her prior connections to Urs, even if she wasn't, and recognized the glaring conflict of interest. It seemed like a blatant oversight. How could she possibly succeed when she had to protect someone she'd nearly robbed and collaborate with someone she'd turned over to the police?
It was as if logic had abandoned her, and she felt lost, not knowing her next move. She would have rather sacrificed a limb right there and then than be under supervision. But she couldn't help but wonder about her own fate...
Her chaotic stream of thoughts was interrupted by the noise coming from the alley below. She leaned over the edge of the roof and observed one of her competitors retrieving an item from the ground, which had fallen into an empty basket. He cast a furtive glance in all directions, checking if anyone had witnessed his momentary clumsiness. Without looking up, he swiftly moved forward, his gaze fixed on a specific spot.
Kelly frowned; he looked like one who knew where he was going. Or just pretended. She made the impulsive decision to trail him from the rooftops, leaping agilely across two-meter gaps between buildings. The young boy did not notice her presence and walked freely in the chosen direction, on short legs. Either he was on his way to his goal or just to pee; but she chose to take a chance without a better plan.
After navigating through several turns along both narrow and wide alleys, the young boy suddenly found himself in a dead-end. The dead-end was cluttered with only a few crates and trash bins. He stopped, his confidence wavering, while Kelly, who stood on the rooftop, began to lose hope. Perhaps she had underestimated the cleverness of her prey. Just as she was on the verge of giving up and pursuing her own lead, the boy cast nervous glances around and retrieved a small box concealed beneath his coat. In the next moment, he hurled it against the wall, breaking the lock. Retrieving a weapon with a red ribbon attached, the symbol Urs had emphasized, Kelly's eyes widened in astonishment. "Short Legs" had found the sought-after item!
She began to think feverishly; she didn't know how many items were still unclaimed, but it was possible that this was the last one. She couldn't afford to assume otherwise. This was the perfect opportunity, the object was within reach. Now she just had to... steal it.
She wanted to rethink her strategy, but the man seemed to sense her presence and looked up. Their eyes met for a brief moment before the man sprinted away.
"You little piece of shit!" she hissed under her breath and gave chase.
The man began to wrench between the alleys, trying to lose her. Kelly had a perfect view of his escape from the rooftops, but in order to get him, she had to go down to the ground.Seizing the first opportunity, she clambered down a fire escape and landed just two meters from the man. He shot a quick look over his shoulder, nearly stumbling into a stack of cardboard boxes. In her experience, things often had a penchant for chaos, and this was no exception. He shoved one of the boxes over, but she easily vaulted over it.
He might have started ahead of her, but his shorter legs were failing him. Besides, she had a knack for long-distance running from her escapades with the police, and she quickly closed the gap. When they were less than a meter apart, she reached out and tugged on the man's jacket. He went sprawling backward like a ragdoll, while she used a nearby wall to brake.
They looked at each other and at the same time rushed forward. The man was the first to grab the object, but the next moment it flew against the wall as Kelly knocked it out of his hand. The next moment she kicked him in the cage, pushing him backwards.She quickly grabbed the trophy and turned just in time to avoid the blow.
"How dare you raise a hand against a woman?!" she exclaimed, her outrage apparent.
The man remained silent, but his fury drove him to hurl himself at her, clutching her around the waist and sending them both sprawling to the ground. The metal box once more rolled beneath a nearby wall, disappearing into a heap of refuse. He pinned her to the ground and drew back his fist, but after a brief moment, he hesitated, recognizing that he was about to strike a woman. Kelly seized this opportunity to her advantage, unhesitatingly driving her knee into his stomach. She flung the groaning man aside and crawled toward the spot where the object had fallen.
Kelly retrieved the box from the pile of rubbish, successfully locating the correct item amid the others. But in the next moment, a sharp cry of agony escaped her lips as a heavy object slammed into her back. Writhing in pain, she curled up, clutching her hands to her injured torso. An iron rod lay nearby, the instrument of her unexpected attack.
Through the haze of pain, she watched as her opponent bent over the box, seemingly uninterested in its contents, and casually walked away.
"Piece of…" she muttered under her breath, struggling to rise to a semi-upright position. Agonizing pain radiated through her spine, thwarting her attempts to stand. She collapsed back onto the ground, letting out a heavy sigh. She turned her head to the side, only to find that the man had vanished, taking the box with him.
•••
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