Take Ten Steps - M1 - Throw it All Away

Take Ten Steps (Turn, and Fire).

MISSION 1: Throw it All Away.


"Get up. C'mon, idiot, get up. For the love of... Just wake up."

My eyes shot open as the silhouette told me to, its frustrated voice still in my head.

... For way too long. A shadow was being cast over the room from the door, and I looked out of the side of my eyes to see a head poking in.

"Get up damn it. C'mon, get the hell up."

Anubis.

"I'm as up as I can get, idiot. I'm tied down here," I said groggily, not questioning why I knew that before I even noticed the shackles.

I heard a sigh.

"Any security?"

"How the fuck should I know?"

Another sigh.

A moment later, I heard him close the door; another pause, and some typing on a machine behind me. A few more keystrokes, and whatever I was lying on flipped to stand vertical. I felt a cover, maybe a blanket fall off me, and cold air sweep over my form. I didn't have to see to know what I was wearing.

"Oh for the love of... I'm going to have nightmares for weeks..," I heard Anubis mutter at seeing the non-too-complimenting gown, as he continued to stroke away at the keyboard. A second later and shackles that had been binding my limbs came undone, causing my body, not used to moving for a couple of days, to fall to the ground. I shook my head and quickly looked around for something to put on. A pair of my own cargo pants and my near-infamous trench coat fell into my lap, and I looked up to see Anubis looking away as he dropped them down.

"Just put them on before my brain dies from all the ugly."

***

I think it was just about then that we both thanked all Gods of creation for having let us be Splinter Cell and Metal Gear Solid fans. As soon as we quietly jogged into the hallway, we saw a guard doing his rounds a little ways up. We quickly scanned for any security cameras, and near soundlessly moved towards him. Although we were trying to be quiet, me and Anubis are unmatched in our rivalry; even in this insane situation, we were half racing to be the one to get to him and snap his neck first.

Just as he was about to turn the corner and run the risk of security cameras, I practically pounced and grabbed him, one arm around his mouth to shut him up and the other grabbing one of his arms. Anubis stood at the side, looking nervous and, I knew, wanting to try and be useful. I moved around a bit, doing my best to get into a better position while still keeping him both immobile and quiet, until his mouth was against the joint of my elbow. Then, giving it the best pull I could manage, I heard a loud snap and he went limp in my arms.

Once again I thanked video games; this time for desensitizing me enough to let me not freak out at my first time killing someone.

In our well-practiced routine, I was always the main man, since I was better at the whole 'not going Rambo' thing. I took off the guard's clothes and handed him to Anu for him to take him back to the room we came from, then began to strip and get into the guard's gear. Just as I finished, Anubis handed me his pistol, radio, and tazer. I nodded to him, and as casually as I could, headed down the corridor the same way the guard was going.

***

After about a minute walking, I stumbled across a bathroom. 'Perfect.'

Still trying to act casual, I walked in and immediately scanned for security cameras, even though I knew I wouldn't find any. Privacy laws: A spy's best friend. One guy was at the urinal, and the stalls were empty. I grinned to myself at how, for once, my luck was going alright. I stepped up beside him, and using the small amount of survival training I had, flipped out the tazer and switched it on just as I stuck it into the back of his neck. I couldn't help but chuckle and quietly mumble, "Stealth KO: 500 points."

Just as I'd dragged him into a stall and put his clothes under my own, making me look a bit chubbier but otherwise normal, there was a brisk knock on the door, making my eyes go wide and my heart jump to my throat.

"Hey, James, you in there? What's taking so long man, you fall in?" My heart raced. Adrenaline pumped as I gathered myself and darted into the closest stall. I left it unlocked to not draw attention, and had both tazer and pistol at the ready as I crouched on the seat of the toilet to hide my feet.

I heard the bathroom's door open, and stay open. "James? You in here?"

He paused.

And paused.

And finally, after almost a freaken' year, I heard the door begin to creak shut. "Bastard must've gone..."

Following the Second Law of Espionage, I waited for about a minute, before jumping down. Letting out a long sigh, I shook my head, and exited the bathroom.

"No pressure or anything."

***

"About time cocksmoker," Anubis grumbled, although he was grinning, as he took the uniform from me. I simply rolled my eyes and turned away as he walked into the room we'd started in and changed. He was just about to come out when I saw something in the corner of my eye, and quickly shut the door with the arm out of view of the approaching guard. The newcomer guard saw me and power-walked up with a frown. 'Oh hell.'

"You. Newbie," he said, only just quiet enough to not wake the entire damn complex. "What're you doing?"

My brain whirred as I tried to come up with an excuse.

"Project Drake is in here. I've been specially ordered to guard it no matter what." That wasn't too bad.

"Project Drake?" he asked, raising a brow. "How do you know about that? That's classified, no one below Guard Commander should know any information," he accused, now glaring at me suspiciously. "I think I'll take a look in here..."

"I'm sorry Commander but I can't allow you to do that. I've been strictly ordered not to let anyone in here, even you."

Another pause as his glare narrowed.

"By whom?"

Oh crap.

"By the woman in charge of the specimen. She was in a rush and I was doing my rounds, she told me to guard the door and not let anyone in, and she'd be back soon."

"And how long ago was this?"

"Approximately 5 minutes, sir."

Another pause.

"... Very well. Good job," he said, before walking off.

Second Law of Espionage...

And I opened the door.

"Holy damn that was close, nice job there Corporal Dumbass," Anubis panted, and we hurried in the complete opposite direction that the Guard Commander went in. "He'll likely go check up with that scientist chick. We'd better hurry or our cover'll be blown..," he continued, fidgeting with the grip of his pistol as he talked. 'Probably eager to test out his CS skills..,' I thought to myself.

Yes I do think too much, and yes, irony does hate me. At that exact moment, four guards raced around a far corner in front of us and, seeing us, skidded to a halt and opened fire with their pistols. Me and Anubis ducked low, eyes wide, and dashed towards the side corridor in front of us, leaning against the wall as bullets tore through the air around the corner. "Okay... If they anticipated us coming from there, that means they probably came from the entrance," I said, trying to form up a plan.

"It also means they know we're coming and if we do go that way, we'll have to fight our way through the entire squad," Anubis angrily replied, blind-firing a few times around the corner to let them know we were still there. By the sound of the gunshots, the squad was still at the far end of the hall. My brain was hurting even trying to come up with a way out of this one.

I was just about ready to give up and at least go out in a hail of bullets, before something finally clicked in, as I noticed the insignia on Anubis' shoulder, and then looked down at my own. I grabbed the radio and turned it on, speaking into it with a purposefully-laboured voice. "This is Patrol Unit 7, me and Patrol Unit 9 attempted to flank the enemy but they're too good of a shot. 9 is injured badly and we need a med team ASAP."

I could hear Anubis chuckling in the background, but I ignored him. "Roger that Patrol 7, we'll send a stretcher in through the back entrance. Can he walk?"

"No, but I can help him."

"Alright, meet them half way, you need to get away from the intruders. I'll order the nearby teams to hold fire on the injured pair."

I silently thanked whatever higher power had made this place have lax security that didn't follow procedure. Now there was only one problem left... And it looked like it'd just been solved.

A female scientist had walked out of the door beside us, and was about to sprint off, when I quickly kicked Anubis as hard as I could in the leg after she'd turned around and semi-quietly called out to her. Luckily, she turned around.

"Hey you, we need your help. This guy's been shot so I need to get him out the back entrance. The intruders are cornered and we can't let them know we've let up on the firing, so all's we need you to do is fire around this corner towards them every so often, okay?"

She hesitated, not that I could blame her. Anubis was a bad actor, but luckily he didn't have to act right now as he clutched his leg in pain. Seeing him half snarling must've convinced her, as she nodded and took the gun I offered her. I pulled Anu's arm around my shoulders and hoisted him off, grinning as our backs were to her.

***

We passed a huge amount of guards on the way out. 'So their procedure sucks but their numbers are ridiculous? Lucky...' Anubis had given me a few kicks to compensate for his own, but I was too proud of myself to care.

Just as I could see the back door approaching, I was stopped by none other than the guard captain, who looked over me and looked down at Anubis' leg to see the hastily-made bandage. My heart stopped beating for the pause.

...

"Nice try you two. You almost fooled us. Now stop kidding around and get up."

"S-Sir? What do you mean, get up?" I asked professionally, hoping it was just a test.

"Have you ever gotten fed up with life, soldier? Have you ever wished that every day could be as exciting as all this, espionage, gunfights, sly strategies...?"

I just stared at him, unable to comprehend. "W-... What do you-..."

"I mean, get the hell up!" He barked, pulled his pistol, and pushed it to my forehead.

***

"GAH!"

My eyes shot open to black. As they gradually adjusted, I found myself in my apartment, as always, staring at my grime-covered wall as dawn's light rapidly lit the room. Sweat covered me and my bed, as always, and the first thing I was greeted by was a loud, angry growl from my stomach, as always.

"What the..," I mumbled, trying to decipher the dream I'd just had. Normally what I remembered of my dreams was short, simple, and... Well, depressing. But this one had been long, vivid... And how life had been...

"Yeesh... To think people may've actually lived like that back then..," I mumbled to myself as I looked around, gradually waking up.

My 'home' was a single room, consisting of everything I owned. A near-broken bed with a hard-as-stone mattress and bare sheets, a mirror, a Swiss army knife, all covered in dirt. The walls were once baby-blue, but grime had turned them a mix between the original colour and various shades of black, brown, red and even green. A layer of dark water, nearly impossible to see through, covered the ground. The light beginning to illuminate the room did nothing to glorify it.

Normally I'd be the type to clean all this up, but since most of the ceiling and a large part of two walls were either missing or lying in the room's puddle, there wasn't much point. I'd once tried to clean it, actually, but it got dirty again so quickly there was just no point.

With a sigh I forced myself out of bed, peeling the sheet from my sweat-soaked form as I did and trod over to the mirror.

As usual I looked as 'great' as I felt; a mess of dirt, grease and sweat. Another sigh at the absolute train-wreck of a state I was in, and I took to the shadow with the army knife. I did the best job I could with the blunt blade, and walked back over to the one window of my room.

Reaching out, I pulled in the bucket suspended outside, looking in. Clean water; practically oil - value-wise - in the world's current state. Grabbing the cloth that was likewise suspended out the window, I proceeded to clean myself. It wasn't exactly enough to clean, but it was enough to make me among the most presentable people I'd ever seen amidst the others who'd just stopped caring.

I stopped to look at my reflection a moment in the water. And as always, that not-me stared back. Dirty, shaggy, lanky and tired-looking despite my best efforts. Not the rich, powerful whatever that I was meant to be. I sighed and tipped the remainder of the bucket over my head to rinse off, the water not making a difference to the floor's permanent lake.

Finally, I slid on my clothes proper. A pair of plain boxer shorts, followed by baggy cargo pants with urban camouflage design, and thick, durable army boots for the bottom. After that I pulled on a matching urban camo sleeveless shirt, and my brown, heavy sleeveless trench coat, before finally dropping my army knife into one of its deep pockets.

I was about to walk out the door before remembering my headwear; a pair of pilot's goggles, purely aesthetic. I grabbed them from my 'dressing table,' pulled them on, and adjusted them with help from the mirror. I smirked lightly at my reflection; despite all odds, I usually managed to look pretty good in comparison to the majority of the current Earth-dwellers. With that boost of confidence to start off the day, I gave my 'apartment' one final check, and left.

It was the last time I'd ever see my old room.

***

Bloody York, as people had taken to it. At least, after the war, they had. Half-melted signs at various places would indicate, to anyone bothered to look, the original name; New York. Yeah, not so new anymore. The streets, littered with the broken wreckage of cars; a luxury long, long forgotten to all but celebrities among the broken Earth-dwellers. Small, bright beacons of fire - barrel kegs filled with anything even remotely flammable - dotted the roads in place of the shattered street lights. People huddled around these behind bits of wreckage for cover from the frostbite-inducing wind.

The sky was an extremely dark grey, as always; even the sun had trouble getting through the thick sheet of pollution that filled the sky, but without an ozone layer, that did more harm than good. You could forget about the moon at night too. Half the time you couldn't see it even if you looked for it, so you could forget about it being a source of light. Granted some nights it came through, but rarely.

The streets... Well. Post-apocalyptic, remember? Most buildings were rubble. You had to be fairly well off to even afford a building that didn't have large holes in it. The only buildings that weren't ruins were on the horizon, in proper central Bloody York. It had no official name since there were no officials to name it, but its inhabitants usually called it Arcadia. Out of spite, most others called it the Wound of Bloody York, or just The Wound. I didn't know much about the place at the time, other than that it was guarded 24-7 and only the wealthy were allowed inside.

But today was important. Today, I was pulling one of my biggest jobs since I'd gotten into this line of work. I'd received a tip from Fernandez - my so-called employer and the man who'd raised me - that some big-time gang had come into a VERY large sum of money, and was going to use it to buy a warehouse to use as a base of operations within Arcadia. Today, the small group that'd come across the cash was handing it over to the main group of the mob. I'd also been given the advice to 'Under no circumstances, mess with them'.

And I'd thought Fernandez knew me better than that.

So of course here I was, crouched near-invisibly in the wreckage of a car, waiting for some opportunity - any opportunity - to dive at the stuffed briefcase one group of suits was handing over to another group in slightly more expensive suits. We were in a small area off a back alley, once a parking lot by the looks of things, surrounded by building wreckage. Two pricey cars, typical luxury sedans, had driven up to face each other, albeit on other sides of the lot.

Once they handed it over, one of the low-rankers took it to carry into the slightly-more-expensive car of the main group, as the rest stuck around in the middle of the two cars to chat. With as much distance between the cars as there was, now was my best chance. I edged my way towards the car, using as much wreckage as I could for cover from the group. Slowly, sweat starting to bead at my forehead, I got closer to the sedan.

Just a few cars away from the one I was going for... Three... Two... One... I gulped heavily as I had my back against the last bit of car wreckage, the mob's sedan close enough to touch if I reached out. The briefcase was in the back, there was one person at the wheel, and the front passenger's door was open. I'll be fine, I kept reassuring myself, trying to drown out the voices in my head, those ones that were always there, screaming that I would fail, screaming that I'd never succeed.

He also had music on. Not too loud, but just loud enough, for me to reach out, open the back door, and...

My train of thought, and my hand, was interrupted by a bullet flying just by my head and into the wall. My heart raced as I stared at the hole in the building for a long while, even the taunting voices in my mind shutting up, before I slowly looked up to the source.

I'd never even bothered to look in the buildings; I had no idea this mob was that big. My naive self had never even considered to check the walls.

In a window, directly opposite me, was a camouflaged man holding what was unmistakably a sniper rifle. As soon as I saw him, and knew what they were wearing, I noted another 20 men, at least, on the wall opposite me alone. More, I imagined, were situated in the buildings on the other 3 sides. My sweating only got worse as I swallowed the knot in my throat, looking down to see the group of mobsters all staring at me, utterly unimpressed.

'You've done it now,' a single one of those mind-voices said.

The classiest of the mobsters - still without any anger in his eyes, only what seemed like disappointment - began to approach me. Judging by his clothes, I figured he was either a top mobster, or maybe even the head boss himself. The footsteps of his expensive shoes echoed through the closed-off parking lot, and before I could stop myself I'd involuntarily backed myself up against the wall, only barely managing to keep my face set in stubborn defiance rather than fear.

It's amazing what a good 80 snipers can do for a man's intimidation points.

With that same disappointed look on his face, the mob boss outright walked up to me, grabbed me by the collar and lifted me off the ground and against the wall. I choked a bit, coming to my senses just as I felt cold steel against my forehead. My eyes opened to see the gun, which just made my heart beat faster.

"I'm disappointed. I really am," he whispered to me, finally showing some anger, though only underlining his speech. "that we should gain all this reputation, all this notoriety, just to be underestimated THIS badly, by a kid."

"I mean really. Do you even know how much money is in that briefcase? Hm? Do you? Two million. Enough to gain access to Arcadia for a whole lot of people, and buy our very own HQ. Do you really think that we'd leave something so precious, so important to our future, so incredibly unguarded that a kid could just waltz in and take it? I'd almost respect you for your gall, kid, I really would. But you just tried to steal months of work from me and mine. And I'm afraid I can't let that go unpunished," he said, as he pulled back the magnum's hammer.

'Well, this is it,' that voice said. 'This is where you go from human, to messy smear. Congratulations dumb-ass, you finally got what you wanted, huh?'

Next... Well, what happened next was confusing. Involuntarily my arm shot up and grabbed the mobster's hand, twisting it, crushing it with strength I had no idea I had. As he dropped the gun, my other hand caught it, instantly blowing a hole in his chest without a second thought. As soon as I'd gotten him out of the way, with a single bullet each, I took out three of the most alert snipers on the other side of the area, then rolled back behind the nearest car wreckage just as the snipers opened fire.

Then, as I sat there regaining my breath wondering how the hell I'd just managed that, my vision went black.

When I came back to, I was back in the grip of the mob boss, in the exact same position I was before; the hammer of his magnum pulled back, ready to fire. This time, instead of involuntarily doing anything myself, the hand that began to twist and crush that of the mob boss was someone else. I tried to look to the side to see who was interfering, but the boss' grip on me was too tight. He dropped me, and a female voice told me to hide, just as she took the boss' magnum and blew a shot into his chest, before pegging down the same three snipers I'd envisioned myself shooting earlier. And just like before, we both dived behind the car wreckage just as they opened fire.

I looked beside to see my rescuer, but all's I saw was a flash of white hair as she darted back around, having already reloaded, shots sounding as she blew out another six of the snipers as they were prepping their rifles to fire again. I heard more shots from the snipers, wondering if she was okay, then more shots from the magnum told me she was fine. After a moment there was a long absence, before more rifle shots. I didn't dare even take a peek. I assumed after a while that she'd entered one of the buildings to grab a dropped rifle, I didn't even know where she'd gotten the extra 12 shots that weren't already in the revolver.

It felt like hours before it was over, though I knew it would've only been a couple of minutes at the most. She moved incredibly quickly. I was out of breath just from listening to it all. Instead of saying anything, I saw a slip of paper move back and forth in front of my vision, before landing in my lap. I looked towards the breach in buildings, back into the alley, just to see that sliver of near-silver hair flip by again, along with the tip of what was unmistakably a black briefcase. Still panting from the panic of whether she would win or not, I eventually lifted the slip to my eyes.

'The Cula Nihl Noita. Come alone. 6:30pm. Anna will be waiting for you. Hope you don't mind I took their hoard as payment.'

I stared at the note a few more moments, finally catching my breath, before pocketing it. I didn't have to think to know that I'd show up, if for no other reason than thanking the mysterious girl for saving my hide.

"Well, the day wasn't a COMPLETE loss..," I muttered to myself as, finally composed, I rummaged through the pockets of the mob-boss and easily found a key ring. Nodding slowly, more than a little happy with that haul, I jumped into the more expensive sedan's driver's seat and set about figuring out how the hell to work it.

***

6:20pm, and my mouth was practically a smoke machine. Dirty snow covered everything, even me, and no amount of squirming would shake off the foul stuff. Although the pros of coming off as a badass were nice, it was times like this I regretted cutting the sleeves off my trench coat. My arms, especially, were a pale blue, had a bad case of goose-bumps, and the hair on them, fine as it was, was standing up enough to make me look like I may still be coming down from a werewolf transformation, or at least electroshock therapy. I even noted a few frozen hairs; if the temperature got any lower I'd probably have icicles dangling from my goatee.

I grinned to myself as I fingered the wad of cash in my pocket - the car was expensive, after all, and had sold for a very nice $10,000. Considering the price of things...

"Well... This could get me into Arcadia, if I really wanted it to..," I said to myself, my grin fading as I considered that. I'd never even thought I'd be poised to get into Arcadia, and the idea that, now, I had enough for entrance and maybe a tiny home there made me think hard, mostly about whether I would actually be able to come to terms with it.

"I'd probably need to start making an honest living... They probably even have police in Arcadia... That'd be boring," I mumbled to myself, before finally realizing where I was; I'd just passed the Cula Nihl Noita. I backtracked a bit and looked in; I couldn't really see much, other than a few silhouettes moving about inside.

Finally, I nodded to myself and shouldered my way past two other guys coming out, one almost spilling his dirty hotdog's sauce on me. I gave him enough of a grumble to let him know he would've been in deep if the sauce had have met its mark, and quickly pushed my way into the store, both out of determination and wanting to get out of the cold.

Breathing a sigh of relief - as the building was at least sheltered from the snow and lit - I could finally look around. The shop wasn't quite as empty as I'd expected. Three people seemed to just be loitering around the all-wooden room. 'Probably to get out of the cold,' I thought to myself. 'Why the hell are they all eating hotdogs? Is there a sale or something?'

There was music softly playing over speakers, something I hadn't heard in an incredibly long time. Music, that is, in general. It was pretty laid back, the only instrument I really recognized was a guitar playing at a strange, uneven tempo, but still made me feel relaxed none the less. There was a door behind the main counter, but I was currently more asphyxiated on what was in between them; an absolutely, stunningly gorgeous woman. And I mean woman; it'd been a while since I'd seen an attractive person, since any kind of self-maintenance was pretty much a luxury these days. But I'll be damned if she didn't warm me -right- up. In all honesty, I had no idea a person COULD be that attractive.

The first thing I noticed was her waist-length, pure-white hair; I knew immediately she was both the person who saved me, and likely Anna herself. It was also the first and almost the biggest indication of her wealth. The white meant two things; one, that she was out in the glaring sun a lot, and two, that she could regularly afford hair cleaning products. Most people's hair nowadays was either dark brown or outright black, regardless of original hair colour. That she was out in the sun a lot also implied she had the money to pay for the immunization shots against the plethora of illnesses that radiation, including solar, could bring on, and her extremely pale skin tone was both attractive and showed off her ability to purchase sun lotion, something very few people had the spare change to afford.

Her face was slightly round, which added to the obvious spark of humour I could see behind her eyes, and didn't have a speck of grime on it. She was even wearing a light shade of lipstick and a bit of eye shadow. Pricey and fashionable clothes, a heavy, beige cotton trench coat with an over-fluffy collar, and a pair of matching pants, all enough to keep her more than warm, even outdoors... In short, she was rich. Rich enough to not need a shop.

Not to mention, her body was, unmistakably, the best I'd ever seen in my life, and she had red eyes that seemed to radiate mischief. Originally I had to double-take at the red eyes, but it was obvious they really were red. She inevitably noticed the staring, and gave a playful roll of those eyes, then winked.

Taking another deep breath, less for the cold this time, I walked up to her. She was eyeing me, and even though she didn't seem very threatened, her hand was quite firmly wrapped around the massive pistol at her side. If she was at all as involved with any mob groups like I'd seen today, I could understand why. Striding up, I placed my elbow firmly on the counter, putting my weight onto it.

"Well, if it isn't the flash of white from the battlefield," I said, eyeing her hair blatantly. She raised a brow at me; as did a random guy across the other side of the store, just barely in the corner of my vision, who was giving me a look as if I was mental. I wasted only enough time to give him a glare and a half snarl, before putting on an over-pleasant look as I turned back to Anna. 'Never seen someone well-groomed before?' I thought to myself.

She chuckled lightly at my little display, as the guy I'd glared off stared a moment longer before making a show of walking away. "Spineless dog probably just doesn't have enough chutzpah to talk to me himself," she said as if answering my thoughts, in what I barely recognized from others as a light Australian accent.

"Well, then, moving on. I take it you're Anna?" I asked her as I dropped the pleasantness and became serious. She followed suit, dropping her smirk in favour of a more business look; although, I noted, a hint of sly humour still shone through quite obviously.

"I might be. Come into the back, and we'll be able to discuss it a bit more, ah, personally," she purred, that business melting into flirting as she beckoned with a single digit and gracefully slipped past the door behind her. I barely even saw her opening it. Working to keep my jaw closed, I fluidly jumped the counter, ignoring the stares I felt being burnt into the back of my head. 'Jealous pricks,' I thought as I firmly closed the door behind me.

The room behind the counter wasn't much different. It still looked half like a log cabin, wooden boarding in every direction. The main difference was probably the huge amount of firearms. Every wall was completely adorned with various guns, the most expensive in display cases, though most of them were just carelessly hanging off hooks by their guards as if they were toys. Anna-I-Assume stood in the middle, looking around as if it was her first time in the room. My eyes, who could blame them, may have travelled a bit.

"See something you like?" she asked softly, looking over one shoulder with accusing eyes. My own were on the walls long before she looked at me, nodding, impressed with the surroundings. And the prices. I caught sight of an average SMG's tag, coming in at $400. '40% of the price for Arcadia's entrance? You'd have to be mad...'

"Some nice toys you've got here. Though, I'm getting the feeling that this isn't your only income, judging from how many times I haven't been shot."

"Nicely gathered. Well, you're right, guns aren't exactly hot sellers these days. Especially not outside of Arcadia. I can only sell a standard pistol for about $90 in here, or else I'd have no business."

"So, then, you make your main profits in other ways, I assume," soundlessly walking over to a wall where I admired a very high-quality revolver, cased due to its price.

"Indeed, I do, which is what I invited you here for. But for now there are a few, ah, more pressing matters to discuss."

The room went dead silent as I waited for her to continue. I shifted my weight as the silence became extended, uncomfortable, and just as I was about to turn around, I felt what I now recognized as a gun's barrel, pressed to the back of my head.

With nary a second thought, I spun around and grabbed her hand, pushing the barrel away from my head so any shots fired would blast through the wall beside us. I was met only though with the barrel of her real gun; the barrel I'd diverted belonged a small, black pistol, whereas the one I had to my forehead now was the gun she'd had holstered earlier. Gigantic, the hole in the barrel looked like it would easily accommodate my entire thumb.

"There it is again," she said with a sigh, as she lowered both her guns. I stood there, staring, confused and trying to figure out what had happened.

"You don't care."

"What do you mean, I don't care?" I asked, genuinely lost.

"You don't care about living. I could've shot you about thirty times in the time it took you to move that gun away and you know it! The only thing that would've stopped me, if I had've actually had the intent to shoot you, would've been shock at such a stupid move!" she growled, stepping closer until I had to lean back against the case behind me. She was intimidating when she wanted to be, alright.

"O-... Of course I care about living! If I didn't then I would've offed myself like all the other weaklings in this city!" I protested, leaning forward a bit to try and gain some ground. All it got me though was a shove in the chest when she got irritated with it.

"Rubbish. The only thing separating them from you is a bullet. The only reason you haven't pulled the trigger yourself is so you can have the moral high-ground. So you can say, "Hah, I didn't do it!" when all's that happened is someone pulled the trigger for you! In that way, you're more pathetic than the ones who quit because you have too much pride to do the job yourself!" she countered, beautiful face now contorted in anger.

I was left speechless for a moment. Primarily because I didn't have to be an expert in psychology to realize she was right. I milled over it for a moment, before sighing, my previously tense body relaxing as I gave up the debate.

"Well, excuse me Ms. Inheritance..," I grumbled to myself. Unfortunately it wasn't entirely to myself, as Anna heard it, and she definitely didn't like what she heard. Her weapon, previously re-sheathed, almost instantly returned to my forehead.

"You have no idea what I do, so don't make bullshit assumptions!" she immediately yelled, the gun's barrel digging into my skin. "I'm one of the few people who got off their asses and really tried to make something of myself, even after the end of the war," she finished, growling between her teeth now, metal heavy against my skull. I'm proud to say that other than a gulp and slightly wide eyes, she didn't get that much of a reaction from me. But, at the least, she shut me up. There was a long pause, before she put the gun away, though she remained glaring and painfully pushing me against the display case.

"And what's it to you, huh? What business do you have, why are you so angry about where I take MY life? So what if I choose to live on the edge, if I choose to have fun until I fall? You're way too young to be my mother."

"Because..," she said, sighing and finally stepping back from me. I took the opportunity to stand up again, stretching my back as I did. "... You're doing it wrong," she finished, first a neutral look, then a smirk, replacing her glare from earlier. I raised a brow at her sudden change of mood, before she practically skipped over to a display case on the far wall away from us.

"Push that aside for me, will yah?" she asked as she stepped up to the glass case, Australian accent showing a bit more strongly at the relaxed order. The case was filled to the brim with various anti-armour weaponry from bazookas to RPGs, and I wasn't looking forward to moving it. Her mood seemed to have done a complete 180, though, and I wasn't about to let it go to waste or coax her aggressive side back out.

"I don't recall being on an hourly wage under you, y'know," I murmured as I approached, eyeing her playfully, but between being, frankly, a bit scared of her, and being genuinely curious, I wasn't about to stand idle. Pushing it aside revealed it to be a fake stand - which was good news for my back - with a door behind it. It was hard to see much down there, other than more wooden boarded walls and a stone path. Part of me wanted to admit it was cool, but for the most part I was a bit cheesed out.

"A secret passage? Talk about cliche. Rocket launchers too expensive to sell, huh?" I asked rhetorically, and justly received no answer.

I-Assume-Anna turned at that, and walked straight down. I didn't waste time in following. The place smelt like it hadn't been traversed in years, although for all I knew it may not have been. A bit into the passage, the shopkeeper turned left, and walked... Straight through the wooden wall.