Gunsmith Cats Fan Fiction / Hellsing Fan Fiction ❯ Through the Years ❯ Part Two ( Chapter 2 )

Through the Years, Pt. 2
Hellsing/Gunsmith Cats fanfiction
By Elwin Blaine Coldiron – bigkwell@gmail.com, bigkwell@netscape.com, and bigkwell@hotmail.com

“Hellsing ” and characters are created by Kohta Hirano, and is the property of Shounen Gahousha/Dark Horse Comics, Rondo Robe/Wild Geese/Satelight/Hellsing Production Committee, and Geneon Entertainment. “Gunsmith Cats” and characters are created by Kenichi Sonoda, and is the property of Kodansha/Dark Horse Comics, Vap/Tokyo Broadcasting, and ADV Films. I do not own both series, nor the characters. I just write the fiction.

GUNSHOP ‘GUNSMITH CATS’, THE NEXT DAY…

Rally Vincent slid the sign on the door to ‘open’ and unlocked the door. It was a particularly sunny day, which made her feel good… despite owing a friend a lot of money. Hopefully some criminal will feel desperate enough and try to jump bail or she would find someone on her ‘hot list’. But for now she concentrated on the shop, her secondary source of income.

She looked around at the displays, which she cleaned before opening up, and was satisfied of the cleanliness, then went into the back room.

“Minnie” May Hopkins was there, going over the latest inventory and tax forms from the previous week… something they were careful of since an ‘incident’ some time ago. “Let’s face it, Rally,” she began as her friend came in, “we can’t avoid paying Becky forever. After all, she has helped us out on a lot of our cases.”

“I know, May, I know,” the dusky-skinned gunsmith glumly said as she put on her work apron, “but until we get that money from the bondsman, she’s going to have to wait us out.” Changing the subject, Rally asked her young friend, “By the way, have that shipment of new shotguns came in yet? I can’t wait to get a jump on hunting season.”

“About an hour ago,” May answered. “After I’m through with this, I’ll enter the registration numbers of the guns into the database.”

Rally smiled May’s answer. “Thanks. It’s a good thing I have you to get ahead on things, otherwise we’d be in a lot of trouble, not to mention we’ll never be able to pay Becky,” she laughed. Just then, the light at the door blinked, indicating a possible customer inside the shop. “Better hang on to that thought, May. Looks like we got somebody in the shop.”

Rally then left the back room… mindful to keep an eye on where she stashed the various backup guns she had hidden under the counters in case this customer was actually a front-man for a hold-up. There was one individual inside, with long pale blonde hair and wearing a business suit. The figure’s back was turned to Rally, so she thought to let the possible customer know her presence. “Oh good morning,” she began. “What can I do for you today?”

“You can start by saying ‘hello’, Rally,” came a British-sounding female voice, which caught Rally off-guard. The figure turned around to reveal a somewhat plain, but beautiful woman in glasses. “It has been a long time. You have grown-up well, old friend,” she said, smiling.

It took Rally a few tense seconds to try to figure out this strange woman and why she knew her. Then a look of recognition came over her features. “I-I-Integra?” she stammered. “I-is that you?”

“Well nowadays I go by the name Sir Integra Fairbrook Wingates Hellsing… but yes, it is me, Rally,” Sir Integra answered, turning around fully.

Almost immedietly, Rally raced the distance between the two and gave her old friend a hug. “Oh wow!” she exclaimed, laughing, “I didn’t think you would remember me! Well… when Roy mentioned you when he told me about that incident with “Bruiser” Delany, I never thought it would be you!”

“Roy?” Sir Integra quipped. “Ah… I believe you are referring to Lt. Coleman. I did not think that you and the lieutenant would be friends.”

“Well… yeah Roy and I and his wife are old friends,” Rally absently mentioned, scratching the back of her head. “Anyway, what brings you here to the States?”

All of a sudden, Sir Integra’s face looked as though it was a deer in the headlights. Thinking quickly, she said, “Well… I had business over here, so I arrived here yesterday. You do remember that chemical spill at Joliet? I was involved in that, but have to stay over a few days more.”

“Well… yeah, of course I do?” Rally answered. However, she studied Sir Integra’s face and thought to herself, ‘She’s not telling me everything. What is it she’s holding back?’

“Rally?” May’s voice came from the back room’s door, a mass of papers in her hands. “I need to find out more about…” She then up and saw the two women. “Rally, who’s that?” she asked.

“Oh May,” Rally blundered, “how rude of me. This is the person I told you about yesterday.” She indicated to Sir Integra. “May, this is Sir Integra Fairbrook Wingates Hellsing… you know, my old friend. Integra,” she added, pointing to May, “this is May Hopkins. She’s also a friend of mine, and she helps me out here.”

“Wow!” May exclaimed, racing to the two. “When Rally told us about you… well… I could hardly believe that she knew somebody like you!” She then turned to Rally and whispered, “And you said she wouldn’t remember you when Becky made that suggestion! Boy how wrong were you!”

“MAY!?!? WHY DO YOU HAVE TO BE SO RUDE!?!?” Rally exploded.

Sir Integra cleared her throat. “Excuse me, Rally,” she said, “but have I caught you in an awkward moment?”

“Oh… no you haven’t, Integra,” Rally sputtered, taking May aside, “could you give a moment?” Moving to another part of the shop, she angrily whispered to her friend, “Dammit, why the hell did you make that remark, May? This is already as awkward as it is!”

“Uh… sorry, Rally,” May answered.

Her anger moving away, Rally took a big sigh and said, “Well… I’m sorry that I yelled at you like that. It’s just that… it was so clumsy, that’s all.” Glancing over at Sir Integra, she added, “Look… why don’t you keep an eye on the shop? I’m going out to see if I can get reacquainted with Integra for a while.” May nodded, then Rally took off her apron and said to Sir Integra, “I’m going to get my coat and cellphone, Integra. How about we go out for a bit?”

“Are you certain it is alright, Rally?” Sir Integra asked. “You’ve just opened up.”

“Don’t worry,” Rally said. “May’s capable of running the shop herself.”

Sir Integra just nodded as Rally disappeared into the backroom, then reappeared with her coat on. As she was getting it on, however, Sir Integra noticed that Rally was wearing a shoulder holster… with an automatic pistol inside it. Not noticing, Rally turned to her friend and called out, “See you in a few hours, May.”

“See you later, Rally,” May answered back, giving Rally a wave.

The two women – Rally and Sir Integra – exited the shop, where Walter C. Dolnez was patiently waiting outside near a Rolls-Royce. “Walter?” Rally gasped, seeing him, “You’re still around?”

“Indeed I am,” the old butler answered. “It is very nice to see you again, Miss Vincent.” He then turned to Sir Integra and asked, “Where do you two wish to go, ma’am?”

Before the dark-skinned blonde could answer, Rally tapped her shoulder. “Before you answer,” she began, “I want to show you something, Integra.”

“Really?” Sir Integra said, her right eyebrow raising. “Pardon us for a second, will you Walter?”

Walter nodded, afterwhich Rally led Sir Integra to the alleyway, where Rally’s car – a blue1967 Ford Mustang Shelby Cobra GT-500 – was parked. “What do you think?” Rally asked, her blue eyes twinkling. “Done a lot of the custom work myself on it, but I’m pretty proud of it. Of course, I assume you have better cars than this back in England… possibly another Rolls or Bentley… maybe even a Jaguar .”

Sir Integra smiled, looking at the car. “Quite true, I have a few very good motorcars back home,” she finally said. “However, they are nothing compared to this classic you have.” She then looked at Rally and asked, “Rally, you would not mind it much if I rode along with you, do you?”

Rally smiled. “Why of course,” she answered. “But what about your car?”

“I will ask Walter to drive it back to the Embassy extension compound,” Sir Integra offered. “You can drop me off there once we are through.” She then asked, “You do know where it is?”

“No,” Rally said, shrugging, “but I’m certain you can give me directions.”

“Very well,” Sir Integra said.

After giving Walter instructions, Sir Integra joined Rally inside her car. After both of them buckled up, Rally started the engine… for which the throaty sound gave the rather dignified woman next to her a start. “Ready?” Rally asked.

“As ready as I am,” Sir Integra confirmed, already wondering why she excepted her friend’s offer.

“Okay, let’s go!” Rally called out, putting the transmission into gear, releasing the clutch as she roared out of the alley. At first, Sir Integra began franticly looking for a hand-hold, noticing how fast Rally got out of the alley, but then settled down as Rally quickly assumed a safe speed limit.

“I sincerely hope Miss Vincent is a more cautious driver that she appears to be,” Walter sighed, watching the two depart as he got into the Rolls-Royce.

It was sometime later the two were inside a small, yet tasteful bistro, where both of them ordered lunch… with Rally paying. Sir Integra had a simple roast beef sandwich on white and a cup of hot tea, while Rally ordered a ham-and-swiss half-sub with multi-grain chips and a diet cola. In-between bitefulls, the two indulged in mostly small-talk, but Rally had noticed that Sir Integra had avoided answering certain parts of her past, but didn’t press the subject, figuring it was something that was secret.

The subject of their discussion soon moved to Rally’s life. “So let me understand this,” Sir Integra began, “the gunshop is only a secondary occupation and you are a ‘licensed recovery agent’ by trade?”

“Yup,” Rally answered after swallowing a sip of her drink. “What I do is go after criminals that had skipped-out on their bail and bring them back to stand trial. I then get paid a portion of the bond that was posted. The job description is good, but it doesn’t have the panic potential of ‘bounty hunter’, though. It does have its share of danger, though… if that little problem I had with Natasha Radinov is any indication.”

“I would imagine, Rally,” Sir Integra replied, recognizing the name of the infamous assassin. She then looked at a sign posted on the wall, sighed and added, “It is too bad that this establishment has a ‘no smoking’ rule. I could really use a smoke to relax a bit.”

“Really?” Rally answered. “Well, I’m a non-smoker myself, but I don’t mind people lighting up a cigarette every once-in-a-while. I only allow smoking in the backroom.”

“That is considerate of you, Rally,” Sir Integra said, then added, “But I would wonder if you would say the same thing for cigars.”

Rally’s eyes widened, catching on. “You… smoke cigars? No offense, Integra, but I can’t see you as the cigar-smoking person,” she added, mildly surprised.

“None taken,” the blonde replied, chuckling. She then got out of her chair and added, “Well, I should be returning to the compound soon. I’ve got a lot of work to do.”

“No kidding,” Rally said, also rising. “After I drop you off, I better go back to the shop and check on May.” The two then walked out of the bistro, Rally continuing to talk, “She tends to get a little irritated when I’m gone for a long time and…” However, before she could continue, she took a look across the street, an intense look on her face.

Sir Integra noticed Rally’s mood. “Excuse me Rally, but is something wrong?”

Rally didn’t answer, instead drawing her gun – a CZ-75 – and began to race across the street… with Sir Integra following close behind.

They didn’t go far. A skinny, rather scruffy-looking fellow was leaning against a building, not doing nothing in particular. “Hello, Alfie,” Rally’s voice came from behind him.

Alfie flinched, then started to bolt away… but the sound of Rally cocking the hammer of her gun made him freeze. “Smart move,” Rally said, still aiming at Alfie from behind. Too bad it wasn’t smart enough, for he tried to throw a punch at her, but she ducked back, elbowed the back of his head and swept his legs.

“Okay, I stand corrected,” Rally added sarcastically as she knelt against his back, “You’re NOT too smart.”

“What the fuck are you doing?” Alfie barked back. “I didn’t do anything!”

“Oh really, Alfie?” Rally countered. “Let’s see… breaking-and-entry, grand larceny, receiving stolen items… not to mention failure to appear in court for all those charges… doesn’t sound like nothing to me.”

“Why don’t you just fuck-off and die?” Alfie growled.

Rally simply smiled and added, “Sorry… but I don’t do requests.”

Sir Integra simply looked on, while Rally produced a pair of zip-cuffs and restrained the felon. “Interesting,” she finally said, smiling. “Even while relaxing, you still find time for work.”

“Just dumb luck, I guess,” Rally shrugged, “Being at the right place at the right time, that’s all.” She then hoisted Alfie up on his feet. But as he did, a bag fell out of his shirt pocked… and inside were several injection vials.

“Huh?” Rally mumbled as she quickly gathered up the bag. But when she looked at the contents of the bag, her mood suddenly shifted… from extreme surprise to blind rage! Slamming Alfie against the wall, she grabbed him roughly by his shirt collar and angrily yelled in his face, “ALRIGHT, ASSHOLE! I WANT TO KNOW WHERE THE HELL YOU GOT THIS!!!”, holding the bag in his face.

“Wha-what are you talking about?” Alfie whimpered – and got the barrel of Rally’s gun jammed tightly under his jaw after she dropped the bag.

“DON’T PLAY DUMB WITH ME, ALFIE!!” Rally snarled, looking as if she wanted to pull the trigger. “I WANT TO KNOW WHERE THE HELL YOU GOT THIS AND I WANT IT NOW!!!”

Suddenly fearing for his life, Alfie blurted out, “LOOK MISS, I GOT THAT BAG FROM A STRANGE GUY THREE NIGHTS AGO! HE TOLD ME TO HAND IT OUT TO SOME PEOPLE, THEN GET THEIR ADDRESSES!! I SWEAR TO YOU, THAT’S ALL!!! DON’T SHOOT ME!!!”

“RALLY!” Sir Integra yelled out, surprised by her friend’s sudden change of mood. “WHAT IN THE NAME OF GOD HAS GOTTEN INTO YOU??”

Almost as quickly as she heard Sir Integra, Rally came to her senses. Withdrawing her gun from the crook but maintaining eye contact, she reached for her cellphone and hit the speed dial. When she got the dial tone, she quickly switched to speaker, where everyone heard, “Coleman here.”

“Roy, it’s me Rally!” she answered crisply.

Coleman’s voice had a note of concern. “Rally… is something wrong?”

“I caught a bail-jumper near the Sunlight Bistro,” Rally began, “but what I found on him I didn’t like! Could you get over here and pick him up?”

“I’m on my way, Rally,” Coleman answered then hung up.

During this conversation, Sir Integra happened to get a look at the bag Rally held. ‘Those vials,’ she thought to herself, ‘They are the very same as the vial Alucard discovered last night.’

+ + +

A few minutes later, several squad cars had showed up, where several policemen took Alfie into custody… and Coleman was giving Rally an impromptu lecture on the finer parts of street interrogations… whatever she wanted to listen or not. “I’m serious, Rally!” he scolded, glaring angrily at her, “You can’t go around getting information by threatening a suspect with a gun like that! You’re lucky someone was there to stop you, because I sure as hell don’t like the idea of hauling your ass off to jail for murder!”

“I know, Roy. I’m sorry,” Rally moaned, “But when I saw this on him… I sort of lost it.” She then handed him the bag. “Alfie was told to push Kerasine on a few unsuspecting people, but that guy doesn’t know who.”

“Kerasine,” Coleman muttered, recognizing the vials. “And when there Kerasine…”

“…Then it’s a sure bet Goldie’s not too far behind,” Rally finished. “It’s a good thing Misty’s no longer in town… otherwise there would be too many targets for that bitch to get to just to get me.”

Coleman nodded, adding, “I’ll get an A.P.B. out on Goldie A.S.A.P..” He then leaned over to Rally and added in a stern voice, “I don’t have to tell you not to go gunning for Goldie herself. She’s too smart to leave herself out of the open.”

“I got it, Roy,” Rally answered, “but I’ve got to get my friend here back to the British extension compound.”

Coleman then noticed Sir Integra, who was standing nearby… and listening carefully to the conversation without their noticing. “Oh… Sir Hellsing, I was hoping I could talk to you. I’m sorry about that little problem with Captain Delany yesterday.”

“There is no need to apologize, Lt. Coleman,” Sir Integra answered. “I am certain you have the problem at hand. And now if you will excuse me, I would like Rally here to take me back.” Coleman did not object, and soon the two women took off in Rally’s car.

THE BRITISH EMBASSY EXTENSION COMPOUND, AT SUNSET…

“I have gotten the confirmation from Agent Lewis about the compound that Alucard reported,” Walter said, holding several printouts in his hand. “The substance presented was indeed the compound Kerasine.”

Sir Integra simply sat at the desk, a cigar smoldering in her hand. She noted that the sun had slipped over the horizon… which usually meant the appearance of the two vampires of the Royal Order of Protestant Knights Hellsing… Alucard and Seras Victoria. “So what are the particulars of this drug, Walter?” she muttered, apparently in deep thought.

“Sir Integra… I believe it would be best if the others arrived as well before we proceeded,” Walter pointed out. And as if to punctuate his observation, Alucard chose that moment to appear out of thin air, as he usually does.

The No-Life King looked at his master… who clearly didn’t seem to be in the mood for his usual mind-games. “Well,” Alucard began, “you seem in one of your moods again, Sir Integra.” He then smiled and added, “I sincerely hope it wasn’t something Walter had said. I know he has a sense of humor, but it’s no need to get medieval on him.” Walter just rolled his eyes, but said nothing.

“Very funny, Alucard,” Sir Integra grumbled. Noticing one person was missing, she added, “By the way… where in the world is your fledgling?”

As if on-cue, Seras showed up. However, she didn’t open the door. Rather, she had phased through the door, albeit not too well. “Sorry about being late, Sir Integra,” the Draculina began, finally materializing inside, “but Master has been wanting me to practice more of my powers.” She then looked at Sir Integra, blushed and added, “Please… don’t be mad at me.”

“I am not, Captain Victoria,” Sir Integra said, noticing Seras’ blush. She then began to wonder why a vampire would react like that, but decided not to ask. “Actually, you’re doing very well. Anyway… Walter, please continue with your report.”

Walter nodded, then began. “Like I told Sir Integra,” he said, “Kerasine… or ‘Powerball’ as it’s known on the streets, is a powerful synthetic narcotic, cheaply manufactured and distributed in quantity, primarily in this area of the country. The one characteristic of this drug is that, depending on the dosage, it can mimic the effects of several other illicit drugs; the smallest amount can simulate cocaine, while the largest can bring about the effects of lysergic acid diethylamide, commonly referred to as L.S.D..” He cleared his voice as he continued, “However, regardless of the dosage, there is one particularly nasty side-effect… it renders the user susceptible to suggestion, much like hypnosis.”

Alucard frowned hearing this. “So this is how they plan to work,” he growled.

Seras looked confused. “What are you talking about, Master?” she asked.

“Think about it, Police Girl,” Alucard growled. “If this drug were to get out in the open market, there could be thousands of willing subjects to the FREAK chip we discovered in Joliet.”

“I… see,” Seras said, nodding.

Sir Integra’s brow furrowed. “This is monstrous,” she said, “using a drug to force others to renounce their humanity and become these FREAKs.” Looking up to Walter, she added, “So what about this… Goldie that I heard Rally mention.”

“Huh?” Seras mumbled. ‘Who is this… Rally?’ she thought to herself, feeling a stab of jealousy. Alucard briefly glanced at her.

“Let me show you all on the plasma monitor,” Walter said, oblivious to Seras’ reaction. He punched several commands on the laptop on Sir Integra’s desk, which activated a plasma monitor on the wall. A picture of a woman with strawberry-blonde hair show up, along with a D.E.A. file. “Goldie Muso, alias “Iron Goldie”, currently believed to be the head of the Muso crime family, which has it’s origins in Sicily. Her specialty is psychopharmacology, and has created a number of has been called “designer drugs… which includes, sadly enough, Kerasine. She is also an excellent hand-to-hand fighter and strategist.”

“So she is responsible,” Sir Integra mused. “Still, that doesn’t explain Rally’s reaction to her.”

“I believe I have more, which could explain that,” answered Walter, then produced on the monitor a side-by-side showing of Goldie’s picture next to Rally’s. Seras let out a small growl, but nobody – except Alucard – noticed. “It seems that Goldie is also a lesbian that has a controlling personality, and has been known to surround herself with teenaged girls, all of them Kerasine-induced as assassins. She and Miss Vincent had clashed from time-to-time… with Goldie proclaiming that one day, she will be able to break Miss Vincent’s will and make her Goldie’s personal slave… both in servitude and sexually.”

“That woman is a monster,” Sir Integra growled.

“There’s more,” Walter added. “It seems during their last meeting, Goldie was able to use Kerasine to enslave Miss Vincent’s father as well… using him as her personal assassin.”

Sir Integra finally decided she heard enough and motioned Walter to stop. “Personally, I would like to see this woman stopped, not only for the harm she’s causing the general populace with this drug, but also what this drug might cause when the FREAK chip is used as well. Unfortunately, we are only guests in this country and do not have any jurisdiction to act.”

“Then I suggest we wait her out,” Alucard added, smirking. “This Goldie is obviously get paid… and very well. And greed is a very powerful emotion.”

Sir Integra nodded. “Very well. It may be a long time before we see results… but it may be worth the wait.” She got up and passed Seras – afterwhich she blushed – and said, “I will contact Agent Lewis and see if he could find out more about Miss Muso. Dismissed.”

Seras departed first, her face unreadable. She only went a few yards from the office when Alucard appeared in front of her. “You’re a little quiet, Police Girl,” he smirked. “Would you like to talk about it?”

Seras had a confused look on her face. “Sorry… but talk about what, Master?”

“Oh… some odd stuff, nothing special,” Alucard remarked, “especially your reaction to seeing Sir Integra’s friend.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Master,” replied Seras a bit too defensively.

“Me and Walter saw how you reacted,” the No-Life King countered, “how your jealously showed itself.” His voice then softened, “Both of us know of your infatuation with Sir Integra; it is very evident on the way she complimented you on your progress with your powers, not to mention when you disposed of that FREAK the other night.”

The young vampire was silent for a few minutes. “I guess it does show,” she finally said. “To tell you the truth, Master… I… I think I love Sir Integra.”

“Then why do you not tell her? Surely she’ll understand,” Alucard offered.

“It’s just that…” Seras struggled for the right words, “I’m not sure she’ll except me. She’s very dedicated to the Anglican Church as it is, so I don’t think her faith would allow it. And even if she did,” several bloody tears showed themselves on her face, “I don’t think she’ll accept a vampire as a lover. I’m so afraid that she’ll reject me.” She then hugged Alucard tightly, sobbing.

Alucard felt a little uncomfortable, having to comfort his fledgling, but he swallowed his pride and replied, “I wouldn’t worry too much, Police Girl. Give her time… who knows, you might be surprised by the results. Now I suggest you get yourself cleaned up.”

“Yes… I’ll do that, Master,” Seras sniffled, then proceeded to the nearest bathroom to clean her soiled face. Alucard simply sighed, wondering how he became a counselor.

“Walter?” Sir Integra asked, taking a break from her paperwork. “I wonder if I should have told Rally the truth.”

The old butler looked over. “I do not believe I follow you, Sir Integra,” he answered.

“I am talking about if I should have told Rally what I really do… about the Hellsing Organization. She was entirely truthful about her past and what she did, but when she asked me the same, I found myself being evasive. God and Her Majesty knows I want to protect Rally from whatever danger she may encounter if she knew… but I wonder if it is the right way.”

Walter bent over to Sir Integra and answered, “It is not my place to be your advisor in such matters, Sir Integra… I simply do your bidding, that is all. However, if you do choose to let Miss Vincent share in the truth, I will support you as always.”

“Thank you, Walter,” Sir Integra sighed. “Perhaps I shall… but gradually, to allow her time to absorb the gravity of the revelation… and I believe I know how to accomplish it.”

THE RECTORY OF A LOCAL CATHOLIC CHURCH, THE NEXT DAY…

“Thank you, Father,” Captain Kevin Delany said to the priest as he left the office, “I think I will do just that.”

“I’m glad to hear that, Kevin,” the elderly priest said, shaking his hand. “To take up the department’s suggestion of anger management counseling is the first step in finally moving on after your wife’s death.”

“Glad to hear,” Delany said. “Ever since Gladys died, I was constantly letting my anger get the best of me and yesterday was the topper. If I followed through with attacking them… I have an idea that my career with the department, along with my pension, would be a thing of the past.” Changing the subject, he asked the priest, “By the way, with that problem that came up with you… I’ll have you in my prayers, Father.”

The priest looked sadly as he answered, “These days, Kevin… that’s all I have left is prayer. Well, I won’t be keeping you. I’ll see you this Sunday.”

“You too, Father,” Delany said. The detective then left the rectory building and started to his car when he nearly ran into a young nun, who was carrying a sizeable load. “Oh excuse me, Sister,” he blundered, “I didn’t notice you were coming.”

The nun, who appeared to be Japanese in nationality, straightened her load, smiled and replied, “Oh that’s okay. I should’ve been more careful in carrying these donated items.” She then changed the subject, “So… you’ve been to see the priest? I’ve just got here and don’t know many people here.”

“Well, this parish has a lot of good people,” Delany began, “and I’m certain some good friends here, Sister… er… I haven’t got your name.”

“Takagi,” the nun replied, smiling. “Sister Yumiko Takagi. And yes, I’ll try to make friends while I’m here.”

“Okay,” Delany said, heading for his car while Yumiko carried her load in another direction. “I’ll see you later.”

Yumiko waved goodbye, then proceeded to the local thrift store with the donations. As soon as she did, however, she had ducked into an alley. After going a short distance, she found a secluded area, where standing hidden in the shadows was another woman, blonde and dressed in the manner of a Catholic priest. “So,” the woman said in a heavily-accented German voice, “it is set for tonight.”

“I see, Heinkel,” Yumiko replied, albeit in a sad voice.

“Yumiko,” the woman – Heinkel Wolfe – said, her tone sympathetic, “I know you don’t vant to do it… but it has to be done.”

“Yes,” Yumiko sighed, taking off her glasses.

It was ten in the evening when the priest had left the rectory and headed home. His mind was heavy with worry and shame that evening. For over thirty years he had to fight his hidden urges… and losing. During this time, whenever talk came of an alter boy being abused in a church he served at, he would be quickly and quietly moved to a new parish… where no matter how he tried, no matter how much he prayed, he would find himself succumbing to his unholy urges.

So involved with his thoughts was the priest that he almost failed to notice the figure in front of him. “Guten Tag, Father,” the figure, a female addressed him.

“Er… Miss?” the priest blundered. “Is there… something you want?”

“Ja… your life, Father,” the figure, Heinkel Wolfe said, stepping out of the shadows. “Your life as payment for the crimes of your perverted past… and justice for all your victims!” Wolfe produced a gun, which she aimed at the priest.

Turning back in a panic, the priest fled in the opposite direction, back to the rectory… or anyplace with a phone. He would’ve gone farther… if his legs were not suddenly cut-off at the knees. Falling face-first, the priest managed to pull himself upright to face his assailant, but was surprised to see Sister Yumiko, a katana in her hand. Yumiko also didn’t look the same. She was smiling… but it was not the warm, kind smile he was fond of. This smile had a cruel, sadistic smirk to it, and her eyes, which didn’t have her glasses, were wide and wild. “S-Sister Yumiko?” he whimpered, seeing her partner walking behind her.

“Sorry Father,” the nun smirked, drawing back her blade, “Yumiko’s taken a nap for now. You can call me… Yumie!”

The priest didn’t have time to scream, his head cleanly cleft from his body. The job done, Yumie shook the blood from the blade before replacing it in the scabbard and turned to Heinkel. “Boy, that was a boring job,” she grumbled. “I would’ve liked to see him at least beg for his life before loping off that pervert’s head.”

Heinkel shook her head and sighed, “Sometimes Yumie, I think you enjoy killing way too much! No wonder Yumiko doesn’t like to wake you up.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Yumie replied, “let’s just hope Archbishop Maxwell’s got a more interesting job ahead of us.”

As if on cue, a cellphone rang, which Heinkel took out and answered. “Ja? Ja, Archbishop, the deed is done. Ja? Ja? Ja?” A pause. “I see. Vell, ve vill be vaiting at the airport for his arrival. Danke.” She then switched off the phone, turned to Yumie and said, “Vell, it seems that your vish has been granted, Yumie. A patron for the archbishop’s has told him of an individual that may have gotten too close to someone that Iscariot doesn’t like.”

“And we’re going to kill this individual?” Yumie asked, somewhat eagerly.

“Not so fast,” Heinkel countered, which disappointed her partner. “The archbishop has sent the agent that will take care of the job. Ve simply have to confirm his arrival, then ve return to the Vatican.”

“Humph!” snorted Yumie, who cast one last look at the priest’s body. “Possibly another milk run the archbishop wants us to run. And Yumiko was starting to get to like Chicago.”

“I don’t know,” Heinkel said as the two walked away.

TO BE CONTINUED…

Author’s note: Yeah, I know, the ending’s rushed and generally sucked. But I thought the chapter needed to get out soon, so I raced right through it. I usually take my time with such things.

9/11/01
FDNY-NYPD-THE REAL HEROES