The ninja leapt from the roof, throwing one sword to the ground and grabbing the rope with his now empty hand, slowing his fall. Ran spun and fired at the ninja as he descended, but Jac, flying through the air, again deflected the bullets with his sword. The weapon was a blur as he expertly maneuvered it. He was good. Not all Red Ninja had yet mastered this bullet deflection technique.

Randal ran, turning a corner of the building.

Landing, Jac retrieved his sword and chased Randal around the building.

Randal turned another corner then stopped, five security facing him.

With his simple proclamation, Jac withdrew two swords from his back.

“Very well,” Ran said, turning both guns on the ninja, unloading them. Jac deflected the bullets with his swords while charging the Special just as Anja flashed her hand forward and a dozen silver strands flew forward, spinning, changing trajectory, training on the Special, razor edged and coming to a deadly point at the head.

The Special jumped from the roof, grabbing the zip line, and swinging to the ground.

“We will not fail our master again,” the Red Ninja said, continuing his assault and leaping off the roof.

Jac was dressed in the traditional garb, red from head to toe, face covered with a red hood, his eyes the only area visible.

Ran kept a gun trained on the ninja. To Randal’s left, Anja was propelled to the rooftop by her armor, silver strands pushing off the ground and quickly returning to her, the armor swirling and circling her body, ready for an attack or ready to protect its matron.

“This does not have to go badly between us,” Randal said, backing further to his right, a gun held on each.

“I’m afraid it does,” the ninja said.

“My fight is not with you, Glyph,” Ran said, vaulting himself from the zip line and grabbing the edge of Giresun’s roof. He pulled himself to the top, the three dead guards at his feet. “Nor is it with you, esteemed Red Ninja,” the Special said, gun at the ready, facing Jac thirty feet at the other side of the roof.

“If your fight is with our employer, then your fight is with us,” the Red Ninja said. “We are honorable warriors, and we hold to our word.” He was dressed in the traditional garb, red from head to toe.

Anja the glyph was tall and muscular standing on ground level below the Special flying through the air. Her dark hair was pulled back in a ponytail. She had wide shoulders and took a wide stance, feet several feet apart. She wore no clothes over her dark tan skin, only the liquid metal suit that served to protect her and served as her weapons.

Narrow strands of her suit knocked the Special’s bullets aside, then turned to sharp points and continued flying toward him. Ran grabbed his zip line again quickly changing his body’s trajectory, again avoiding the glyph’s attack.

Dropping the zip line, Randal narrowly avoided striking blasts of liquid metal from the glyph’s bioarmor, blades that surely would have cut him in two had they made contact. Instead, he landed on the rooftop of a neighboring house, rolling to lessen the impact.

Randal continued the motion, rising to his feet and running, still coming for Giresun’s home. Guards began firing from Giresun’s roof, but Ran killed the three with his heater, putting several holes in each.

Suddenly a multitude of liquid metal blades slammed through the roof beneath Randal. He jumped off it, firing on the glyph below.

Besides the glyph who had guarded Claude Revel a month earlier, Giresun also had Jac acting security, the Red Ninja who had ultimately lost Revel to Turtle. After Revel’s abduction and subsequent disappearance, Giresun went into security high alert. Both Anja and Jac would be with Giresun, along with a number of other security.

Randal smiled, enjoying the ride on the zip line and thinking of the panic Giresun and his personnel must be in right now, frantically trying security, wondering why alarms weren’t going off and realizing outside communications were shut down.

Nearing Giresun’s home, Randal had to dismount.

Ran lined up the shot and pulled the trigger of the reeva. The rifle fired an anchor grapple at the reinforced walls of Giresun’s home, blasting through it and then slamming back into place, anchors extending and locking the grapple into place, the rope between it and the reeva completely taut.

Satisfied with the outcome of this maneuver, Randal attached a zip line handle to the rope and leapt off the face of the cliff, riding the handle down toward Giresun’s home.

Clara’s intel told Ran that Giresun had his glyph with him now, Anja who Kurl had effectively delayed.

He knew the walls were fire resistant and reinforced, so they would be able to withstand several types of direct assault. But they would also be able to hold up under the strain of his next move.

Ran pulled out the small device Sprite had given him, waiting to receive several important signals. It wasn’t long before they all came in, letting Ran know that Giresun’s security and communication systems had been cut off and that the bugs were now in position to send jamming signals, effectively cutting off the home from the outside world.

It was time for action.

Happy with the weather conditions and distance, satisfied that Sprite’s information on the area had been accurate, the Special removed the long rifle from its soft case. He flipped out the tri-stand and lined up his shot through an enormous scope attached to the reeva, adjusting the stand as necessary. Then from the duffle, Ran bolted the tri-stand to the rock with a bolt gun and six inch spikes.

Randal loaded the reeva, lining up his shot. He knew what would happen. He knew the glass in Giresun’s home was armored, so the kill would have to be up close.

Ran stopped at the cliff’s edge, a spectacular view of the beach community below him, amazing houses tightly lining narrow, curving streets. The houses were bright pinks, blues, and yellows as was apparently appropriate for a beach community. Balconies and rooftop patios adorned them all.

Ran pulled the reeva from his back, setting the long, rifle and case on the ground. He withdrew binoculars from the duffle, setting this bag down as well. He scoped out Giresun’s home, knowing the man actually preferred coming here after summer was through and crowds had diminished. He enjoyed his privacy and the quiet.

But it was unlikely any hikers would show up at this picturesque location today. It was late in the season now and the air was cold.

Randal looked out over the ocean, briefly enjoying the view, the rising sun behind him, the dark ocean as far as the eye could see. He inhaled deeply, feeling refreshed and ready. The Special then threw on a backpack, grabbed a duffle bag, and carried the reeva over his shoulder. Ran tromped into the tall grass, following another foot path that eventually led him to the edge of the cliff, the beach community below.

Ran’s tires still pulled traction on the narrow dirt footpath because Sprite had changed out the roadster tires of the double R with steep terrain the week before. The drive here on the regular highways had worn them down pretty good, but Ran only needed them for less than twenty hours of abuse.

By the time Randal reached the top of one of the cliffs, the sun was rising from the eastern horizon. The Special stepped off his Rider Rocket, killing the engine. It was quiet up there, a picnic table sitting to one side, a beautiful view for hikers.

Randal drove past the closed front gates and kept traveling north, pulling over a quarter mile later. There he released Sprite’s bugs, metal, spider looking devices, bodies smaller than a fist and several long legs. The bugs quickly vanished, heading the way the Special had just come from. Ran kicked the Rider Rocket back to life and continued up the long, dark road.

Eventually he took a left, heading toward the ocean through winding roads as he snaked his way up the cliffs. Then Ran slowed and turned off the paved road, driving up a nearly invisible, narrow dirt footpath.

Ran had chosen this path for a reason. City gates weren’t tightly manned here, and the signal from the double R was clean. He got through without even having to stop.

Eventually he made his way into the desert and really opened up the throttle.

It was an hour later when Ran approached one of Giresun’s weekend homes, a large estate in a vacation beach community, private gates and beachside cliffs keeping residents safe and cut off. A large, functioning lighthouse sat at one end of a long, hollowed out cove and private sandy beach area for the residents’ enjoyment.

Reynolds put the cigarette back into his mouth. “I understand,” he said, cigarette bobbing. “Good luck.”

“Thanks,” Ran said, and headed for the garage. There he hopped onto Sprite’s red and black double R, thumbed the starter, confirming driver ident, and punched the throttle, disappearing down the empty streets. They were still wet with the nightly acid rains, his tires hissing and sizzling as he drove.

Though dry, it was still dark two hours later. Ran traveled north on a four lane back road with sporadic traffic, starting to make his way out of the sprawling metropolis of Lost Angels.

Reynolds held the cigarette with two of the three fingers on his disfigured left hand, though no more disconcerting than the rest of his body which was covered with self inflicted scars.

Reynolds nodded. “Thought you might.”

Randal stood there silent a moment. “Do you take issue with that?”

Reynolds shook his head. “Not my place,” he said. “But are you sure you’re up for this one alone? If you need any backup, I’m more than happy to offer my assistance.”

“I appreciate the offer, but I think this is something I need to do on my own.”

Reynolds nodded.

Randal packed a few more items and pulled on his long trench coat, the inner lining a thin armoring. He donned his fedora and made his way through the shadows to the garage.

“Going somewhere,” a voice asked Randal behind him.

The Special turned, and it was Reynolds standing in the hallway, smoking a cigarette.

“I am,” Randal said simply. He thought it was amazing that even with his own heightened senses, he still didn’t hear the man approach.

Reynolds took a long drag on his cigarette, taking it from his mouth with two fingers of his diminished left arm.

But Clara had done recon work for the Special, understanding he had to end this in his way on his terms. Sprite too had done her own fair share of assistance for Randal, giving him some technical specs and working out several short circuit bugs for the security. Besides, without Giresun, Revel wouldn’t have been an issue to begin with. Though her black mark was removed, retribution was always appreciated. How else could one keep making a living the way they did if their reputation wasn’t held sacred?

Randal packed a few more items and pulled on his trench coat.

epilogue

Randal woke up early. It was technically morning, though it was really still the middle of the night. He packed two heaters, his hand cannons, his kitana, and his reeva, a hyper long range rifle, thin and over six feet long. He put the reeva in a case, throwing it over his shoulder.

It had nearly been a month since Randal was rescued by Clara and Claude Revel erased, but this was something Ran had to handle on his own.

They couldn’t tell Turtle or Helen; Helen wouldn’t understand Ran’s need to do this alone, instead insisting the two help.

Clara too was injured, but she insisted if Randal’s wounds could be deemed “wait and see,” then she too could be monitored for lack of improvement before she was forced to see a doctor. Helen agreed reluctantly, but made the Red Ninja promise to remain in bed the next several days.

Sprite had her freedom; the mark soon a memory. Turtle felt good, certain Revel had not implicated him in the affair.

All that remained untied was Giresun. And all agreed that that discussion should wait for Randal, wait for him to heal and ultimately wait for his final decision.

The next morning, Clara brought Randal home. The Special still slept, his battered and beaten body still needing much rest. Both Helen and Sprite examined him, Clara insisting to remain at his side during this. They both agreed that rest was the best thing for him and thought that his body would soon heal itself, already seeing some amazing changes, if Clara’s testimony of Randal’s torture and condition when they made their escape was to be believed.

They would all keep an eye on him, though, and if any changes were seen, they would immediately bring an actual doctor in.

Naturally Revel’s fear and regret was great. Getting caught can have that effect. And being tied to a chair in a dim basement room with no windows can only add to that. Throw in the fact that your captors are professional killers and adventurers, people you yourself betrayed, and their friends are large men wearing ski masks, yes, fear and regret are the natural emotions.

And they had gotten everything from Revel. He had nothing more for them.

Turtle took Revel’s confession and served him the Eucharist before they killed him, his body carefully and thoroughly destroyed and disposed of.

Sprite had broken several laws in her work as a dart, but she had not broken any code of the ace mechs, so this evidence had been fabricated. Sprite looked at it, devising a rebuttal for each accusation. Then Revel gladly placed a formal regret and removal of accusation, claiming a plentitude of mistakes made in the charge and in the evidence, expressing formal regret to the ace mech code, governing body, and to Sprite specifically.

Sprite was fully confident that it would not be longer than a few days before the charges were dropped and the mark officially removed.

With Revel calling for the black mark, he was connected to her within mech records. It was probably Giresun’s move to force Revel closer to him, make him rely on Giresun for support. Revel revealed what evidence he had and where he had it stored. Sprite pulled copies, devising ways around the evidence. There really wasn’t much to it; there was nothing she had done that served to get her marked.

Yes, she had broken several laws in her work as a dart and the mission Revel hired them for was no exception. But she had not broken any code.

Anja the glyph and Jac the Red Ninja were in fact on Giresun’s payroll, the two on indefinite loan as Revel grew in the public eye.

The darts had assumed as much and also surmised that the two bodyguards were meant to report Revel’s activities to Giresun as well. Revel hadn’t come to the same conclusion, perhaps wanting to trust the man; but Giresun did not get where he was out of foolishness and naïveté.

Then it was Sprite’s turn. Revel confessed putting the black mark on her. The record could be retrieved and probably forced Revel closer to Giresun.

Already Giresun’s friendship had lead to several profitable business opportunities, and the political connections were unbelievable. Giresun introduced Claude Revel to powerful and influential people, people like council member Tobias Treadhook, the businessman and vampire, Blaise the Ukraine, and even a short conversation with Matron Cassandra, head mother of the Glyph Sororal, to name just a few.

Revel gave the darts what little information he had about Giresun. The two had met mostly at a number of offices near wherever Revel was campaigning at the time. Only once was Revel brought to a home of Giresun’s for a short meeting.

No, it was not pretty, but it was relatively short. Revel gave the darts what information he had quickly. He begged; he pleaded. He apologized for his betrayal, as if something like that could be wiped clean with mere words. There was forgiveness, yes, but there was also judgment.

He confirmed their thinking, that he had hired the darts with the intention of betraying them to Giresun. He gave the tycoon incriminating information on Randal and Sprite without implicating himself in the attack. He even withheld information on Turtle, for fear Giresun would track the business opportunity back to Revel.

Hawk and Kurl protested, pleaded, argued, and begged; but Helen insisted that the two could not be anywhere near their prisoner. Turtle agreed completely. Helen kept the two upstairs away from this dirty scene, both parents knowing what had to be done; but both unwilling to open the younguns to this darkness just yet.

It was not a pretty scene that followed but objectives were pure. Claude Revel had employed these darts and then betrayed them, his actions leading to the attempted death or capture of two of their own, and who knows how many more later, if not stopped.

Turtle, Sprite, Gunn, and Reynolds waited to administer Revel a wakeup call via a large syringe. The latter two wore ski masks to hide their identity, Gunn and Reynolds having never met the captured dignitary and having no connection to him other than working with Turtle.

Sparrow had been unwilling to aid any further with the situation, her glyph code forcing her to remove herself. She had dropped Gunn and Reynolds off and then retreated to her own safe house, not even getting out of the car.

No one faulted her for this, grateful for the part she had played.