The sound of gunfire forced you and Ninja Girl to halt your impromptu foot worship session, the bullets peppering the ground around you. The rapid-fire was clearly indicative of a machine gun at work, which could only mean one person.
Instinctively, you threw yourself to the right, only going by raw instinct instead of logic or precaution. Your shoulder collided with the concrete, but you kept rolling, forcing your body to almost contort as it tried to snake around the line of fire. Bullets whistled past, littering the ground where your limbs had just been with holes.
Finally, you managed to find cover in the form of a large air conditioning unit, which was strategically a few feet to your left. You slumped against the metallic machine as the gunfire continued, preventing any means of escape or even a counterattack.
Your body inhaled and exhaled like a paper bag, your heart beating a mile a minute. Peer exhilaration had filled your lungs, raw adrenaline pumping through your veins. You could barely feel your pulse on one wrist, you were breathing that hard.
You glanced to the side to see that Ninja Girl was gone Although, you did manage to catch a glimpse of her legs disappearing over the rooftop. Knowing her, she probably took a detour around to flank the assailant. Since the assailant was focused on you, it would figure that she’d be more strategic about it rather than taking risks.
“She really is a ninja,” you thought, before the hail of bullets started to chip away at the conditioning unit, breaking up your train of thought. You instinctively covered your head as the gunfire continued, banging against the metal next to you.
Seconds later, you heard a loud click, a sound you knew all too well.
“Out of ammo,” you mouthed out, as you heard a loud curse emitting from the assailant. You slumped back against the unit, taking advantage of this momentary ceasefire.
Feeling the cold sweat drip down from your forehead, you reached out to wipe some of the sweat from your brow, before it hit you.
Your head snapped to the right, a grim realization hitting you like none before. You could only grimace, grit your teeth, and curse yourself silently as you realized the price you now pay for letting your guard down.
Your mask was directly in the line of fire, scattered to the right a bit but otherwise unscathed. And from where you were positioned, gunfire had ceased. It was a risk, but even that was an understatement. It was a suicide run, but without that mask, you were dead anyways.
In that one moment, you abandoned all logic or reasoning, only letting your instinct control you. You had to get that mask, you had no choice.
In that one moment, you made up your mind, and made a run for it. For about two seconds.
As soon as you stepped from the unit, the bullets attacked with renewed ferocity, bouncing off of the metal. You took one step out, and a bullet nearly put a hole in your boot. You quickly threw yourself back into cover, cursing madly as the mask still remained out of your reach. The gunfire peppered the conditioning unit, with a few stray shots even landing a few inches left of your head.
You slammed your fist against the ground, infuriated at your inability to get the mask, as the gunfire continued, keeping you pinned down.
“Looking for something Hawk Boy?” a familiar yet dreaded voice called out, a feminine sneer thick with a German accent.
Instantly, a wave of fear swept across your body, rendering most of your joints numb and unnerving. You dreaded this moment, when she would come after you, when she would find you, when she would kill you.
Madam Reich.
That very name struck an unprecedented chord within Footropolis, as well as the criminal underworld. A self-proclaimed Nazi supremacist, Reich was a cruel, sadistic woman who could’ve had tea with Hitler anyday. Her methods were crude yet destructive, her methods morally ambiguous and crude. She thrived in the pain and suffering of others, that being the focal point of most of her hate crimes. Assassinations, car bombs, arson, you name it. She did it.
The last time you saw her was last week, when she tried to assassinate the Mayor atop the Foyers administrative building. If you had bee a second slower, that one bullet would’ve thrown the into city into turmoil and civil unrest. But thankfully, you were able to push the gun, derailing the course of the bullet so it would miss by a centimeter. A centimeter, that was how close you were to failing, how close the city was to meeting an early armageddon. She got away, but she sent a message that day.
Flashes of her previous crimes that you foiled come to mind, most of them close calls even for you. She was dangerous, armed to the teeth, and always one step ahead. The last time you underestimated her, she almost put a bullet through your skull.
As much as you hated to admit it, you couldn't deny that she was an excellent opportunist. She took advantage of situations, at your expense anyways. From the direction that her voice emitted from, she was on the other side of the rooftop, probably entering from the rooftop door. Her voice also indicated that she was to your right, but you had to make sure.
You quietly craned your neck upwards, grabbing the machine with one hand to pull you up. You then faced the machine, sliding your face upwards slightly to get some peripheral insight from the corner of your right eye. As the corner of your eye peeked from behind the machine, you could barely make out her slender figure, clad in a leather black. She held her signature World War 2 era MP-40 submachine gun, the stock buried in her shoulder. She had it directly aimed at you, a bit of foreshadowing for what was to come.
Instinctively, you sat back down as she opened fire, spraying the area where your head was propped at with lead.
“Imagine the luck boy. Imagine the blessing from Der Fuhrer bestowed upon me when I just happened to stumble upon this rooftop, still reeling from the humiliating defeat at the hands of you too. I lost everything last week, but now, I gain something that’ll make up for all that, when I take you out. Ah, what honor that will bring me Hawk Boy, by taking you out, as well as the girl,” she cackled insanely, her voice a high-pitched giggle.
You groaned as she began to digress in one of her profound tirades, her voice starting to trail off.
Reaching into your utility belt, you quickly drew a circular disk, sharp enough to disarm her. Even if you couldn’t nail it, you could at least create a momentary distraction. Reich will shoot anything that moves. Praying silently, you started to position yourself as she continued to talk.
“I will drain your blood into the fountains Hawk Boy, and hover your head above City Hall so all the Americans can see what has become of their hero, and what will become of them if they continue to resist my movement. Don’t think I've forgotten about the girl either, no I will have something special for her,” she continued.
“In fact, not only will I expose her for the fraud she is, but I’ll-,” she started, but you cut her off mid-sentence.
With a cry, you summoned every ounce of courage you still had left and hurled the disk at her, throwing it as precise as you could towards the direction of her voice.
Not waiting to see if it connected or not, you quickly burst into action, leaping out of cover and running towards the mask.
You could hear a single shot burst from her gun, probably to dispose of the weapon. You had to admit that her aim was near impeccable, as she was easily able to drop the weapon with one bullet in less than 10 seconds. But that was all the time you needed.
Throwing yourself to the ground, you grabbed the mask en route to another air conditioning unit before Reich finally got on.
The mask now in your possession, you slid behind another air conditioning unit as she opened fire, no doubt enraged that she was deceived.
“American Abschaum!” she bellowed, infuriated.
“You think your toys will defeat me boy? They have only prolonged the inevitable my friend, and the inevitable shall be pain and suffering for you,” she fumed.
From the sound of her footsteps, you could tell that she was starting to approach your location. You heard a reloading sound after she finished unloading her magazine at the unit.
“First, I will cripple you like an old man. Then, I will castrate you like a common dog. Then, I will puncture each artery, every organ, until you bleed out. Then, I’ll force you to watch as I do the same to your little girlfriend!” she hissed, clearly trying to force you to act on emotion, a death trap.
“Then, I’ll put a bullet in her pretty little head, and make you watch. And as you lay there, helpless to stop it, I will sit back and watch as you die slow, painful, knowing that this is all your doing. Why, I might even let you keep the mask on. Seems more fitting that way, wouldn't you say?” she sneered, getting closer and closer towards you.
“Make it easy on yourself Hawk Boy. Face me like a man, or die like a little boy,” she continued, her footsteps now yards away.
She playfully emptied the rest of her round into the air, before throwing the gun aside.
From your peripheral vision, you could barely make out her drawing a pistol from her belt, a gun with a more controlled rate of fire.
You had to do something, and you had to do it now.
Taking a deep breath, you quickly drew another disk, ready for the inevitable.
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