How much is this going to cost me? (Private, PM to enter)

John moved up to the door to the small house from behind his turned over table dragging the Heir with him as he did. The Shaman had no intention of letting the man out of his sight now so he kept him close as he picked up Matoskah off the ground where it had fallen. He looked out into the village noting all the possible places for a man armed with a rifle and the intent to kill could hide. After they took out the first two men trying to enter the house the rest took off and obviously took up positions out in the village to ambush them when they tried to leave. John reached into his cargo pants and pulled out his communicator holding it up his mouth.

“Wahkan, we’ll need a pickup at the edge of the village in three minutes.”

The communicator clicked and the large man’s voice crackled though a second later. “On my way back, we can drop in and pick you up at the house.”

“No,” John shot back shaking his head, “I don’t want to chance someone sending a rocket into the side of the Siang Tien Tang. We’ll get to the edge of the village and you can pick us up in a run.”

“We’ll be waiting.” Wahkan said before the communicator went dead. John put it away in his cargo pants pocket again as the Heir whined beside him.

“Rockets, they have ROCKETS?”

“I doubt it, they would have used them by now if they had. I just told that to Wahkan to keep him out of harm’s way for the moment. For now though we’re going to have to walk out of here.”

“WALK OUT?!” The Heir protested.

“Yes, I’ll take one side of the street and Keiko will cover the other. Stay right behind me and we’ll protect you.” John explained before turning to the sky pirate and nodding. He didn’t wait for her confirmation of the plan as he readied his weapon. He was sure she’d be right out the door with him, the Heir…that was another story. John grabbed him with his free hand and with a small pull both were out and moving to the right.

The Shaman trotted quickly over to the wall of the first house making sure to keep his distance from the structure. He didn’t want debris flying off and taking out a limb incase the soldiers were carrying rockets. Nothing was moving on the street except the small dust devils created by the wind and his feet as he walked along. Then suddenly a body popped out of the dark doorway lowering a rifle. The Shaman never faltered and instead jumped into the soldier swinging Matoskah into the barrel of the rifle driving it out of the way as a three round burst split the quiet. He didn’t slow his attack. John kept moving hitting the man with a quick kick right to his mid-section. The man gave a grunt as he bent in half almost from the blow that was just seconds before more gunfire sounded. The man skidded across the ground as a second one came running up from around the corner of the house.

I ran out of the house right behind John and went left automatically with both my pistols, Mayhem and Chaos, raised and ready to fire. I assumed someone, hopefully Wahkan had taken out the sniper and even though I made sure to let my enemy know I no longer feared the long shot of a hidden rifle I never truly stopped worry about it. Out of the corner of my eye I saw the shaman run into the first of the soldiers who came out of hiding but I never witnessed what he did to them. I was too busy firing at two soldiers who came at me from their hiding spots with rifles raised. I am not sure what froze their fingers from pulling their triggers but whatever grace it was I welcomed it. Mayhem fired and took one down while the round from Chaos struck the shoulder of the other. He spun in a tight circle slamming into the wall and before he could fire a single shot at me I kicked him hard in the face sending him into a state of unconsciousness. I dropped then behind a barrel next the wall taking cover.

I looked over and saw John and the Heir crouching by the wall, two of the soldiers at they’re feet. It looked like we were deep in a hard fight making me wonder how much more of battle it would be the farther we went up the street. I chanced a look up the street and at the end I saw movement on both sides, a squad of men setting up for a final confrontation. I looked back over to John and even though I had no clue I was doing it I was smiling from ear to ear the shaman told me later.

“It looks as though we are beset on both sides John, a terrible fate indeed for any two others but us, eh?”

John only tipped his hat to me and I laughed like a true devil before standing up and running from my place of cover. I did not mean to cross the street but when I saw a soldier to my right a good distance down the road appear I went toward him, drawn there like a moth to a flame. I ran all out as the lone soldiers comrades opened up and started firing at me. Just like the times before most of the rounds were off the mark and short, though two did come close enough to catch my attention. I made the crossing without being struck and ran to a spot of cover, a large crate.

I peeked over the top of the wooden container that someone was using as a makeshift table hoping to catch sight of the lone soldier I had spotted. He unfortunately was nowhere to be seen, but two of his friends were more than accommodating as they approached. If I could not take the one I wanted then I would have to settle for the next two I decided.

The looks on Keiko’s face, the pure joy in the middle of the maelstrom, made John just smile with disbelief. It was surreal, but then again it really wasn’t if you knew the Sky Pirate for any length of true time. She was a free spirit like no other and some days that was a blessing form the divine. The Shaman watched her make her way up the street and he knew it was time to get back into the fight so with a handful of the Heir’s shirt John tugged the man to his feet and proceeded to move behind Keiko. As she crossed the street with bullets screaming by John and his follower passed by going left.

The Heir was right behind John, using him as a moving blockade to any incoming rounds and yet one still seemed to seek him out. All at once the man felt something hit his leg, felt the burning pop in his thigh, and then the mind altering pain. The Heir felt his leg give out just as he dropped to the ground yelping but his forward motion never slowed. He never really hit the ground because John’s grip wasn’t about to let go of his shirt. So strong was the Shaman’s grasp that the man’s shirt tore a little as he was dragged across the street to the other side.

John felt the Heir start to fall and knew if the man went down all this trouble for the last few days would be for nothing, a waste. He wasn’t about to let that happen and with a grunt he dragged the Heir across the street to the wall. As they reached what they thought was safety one of the soldiers popped out of his hiding spot, next to some barrels, and rushed the pair. John swung Matoskah in a wide arc slamming the side of the tomahawk into the rifle barrel diverting the fire of the weapon. All but the first round missed as the Shaman felt the sting of the bullet grazing his neck and then John was countering delivering a stomp to the soldier’s knee. The crack of the breaking bone drowned out the noise of the gun fire as the soldier fell to the ground and just as he did the Shaman finished the exchange bring his tomahawk across the man’s head.

“I’VE BEEN SHOT!” The Heir screamed grabbing his leg.

“Do you finally see how bad these men want to kill you?” John asked checking the wound in the Heir’s leg. He gave it a cursory look, all the time he could spare, and then looked back to the man. “The wound is a through-and-through, you’ll live if you hold pressure on it. We’re almost to the end of the street and then we’ll be fine, stick close to me.”

“How am I supposed to stay close?”

“If you don’t then you will die in the street and I’m not going to let that happen. Now, bite through the pain and stay close to me! John ordered dragging the Heir to his feet again. The pair started off up the street next to the wall just as two more soldiers appeared out from hiding.

As I watched the two men run up on the table, or what someone used as a table, I waited for them to reach that magical spot where they would be trapped. It was the spot every true hunter knew of, that spot where the prey would be to stunned with surprise and thus unable to act as the hunter struck. It was easy to let your spirit get away from you and attack too early letting the prey slip out of the trap and it was equally easy to let the prey get too close at which time the trap might turn and close on the hunter. Me though, this was my element and I knew when to close the trap. I waited calmly as the pair walked right into that spot and then I was up and over the table with a leap attacking with Mayhem in my left and my Revenge in my right.

I fired first Mayhem kicking just enough to let me know he was game to fight. I heard the soldier on my left scream and fall even though I never saw him actually do either. My eyes were locked onto the soldier to the right as I brought my Revenge down on him, only it was a half a second too late. I heard his rifle fire, the boom echoing down the street amazingly drowning out the din of the battle I found myself in. The plentiful bloom of fire and pain in my side immediately told me I was hit but I bit back the pang as my sword cleaved into the soldier. He gave a scream as his arm hold his rifle went limp and almost separated from his body but I did not stop after that. I spun in a tight circle hitting him hard across the face with Mayhem knocking a few teeth loose with the blow I am sure. As I came out the spin I slashed with my Revenge at the soldier I had shot who was trying to regain his feet at that precise moment. The blade of my sword cut deep across his body as he fell back to the ground, the fight leaving him as quickly as it had come.

My side burned and ached where I had been shot but I kept my wits and ran to the wall of the building seeking what cover I could. I looked down and checked the wound noting the bullet had slipped between the spot where my vest met my trousers. That small unprotected spot was now a crimson red as my blood tried to seep out. I pressed the wound, grunted with the pain, and then I took note of where I stood. The end of the street was just ahead and it looked as welcoming as a mirage of a waterfall to a man dying of thirst in the desert. Yet, just like the doom that mirage meant to that dying man so did the end of the street tease me. The goal was to now to get across the street running parallel in front of me and out the gate, a considerable distance now that I was shot and worse it was all open as I stood at the corner of the last building providing me my protective cover.

Not one damn thing to hide behind.

John met the first soldier head on slashing with Wakina up and out to the right, but before doing so he uttered the command word evoking the power of his weapon spell ‘Owa’. The slash looked like a lethal blow at first then the added magic of the spell kicked in and the soldier went flying down the street like a sack of bricks. The man’s utility vest, and the side-by-side double stack of magazines he carried for his rifle, exploded throwing shrapnel everywhere as the blade of the Shaman’s bowie knife cut through it all. The move though left John open and exposed on this right side and the soldier to his right took full advantage of the move. He brought up a single action shotgun, the large cold blue barrel catching the morning sun just right to make a small wink of a reflection.

It all slowed down at that moment for John. He saw the soldier and he saw the large barrel of the shotgun pointed at his side. He also knew there was absolutely nothing he could do to stop what was about to happen. The Shaman only hoped the Heir was fast enough to get away with Keiko who had hopefully made it to the end of the street.

Then the shotgun fired with a bellow of white powder and something hit John hard enough in his side to send him falling backwards against the wall. The blow was strong enough to lift him momentarily free of mother earth and the Shaman felt weightless but then the hard brick wall slammed into him stopping the effect and John’s body. He slumped to the ground gasping for air while trying to hold back the pain from where he was shot, which was weirdly devoid of blood as he touched the spot. It was then the Shaman realized he was shot with a bean bag and not a shell. The bean bag was a non-lethal round meant to incapacitate a person and not kill him, which it had done to him. All John could do was to try and get his wind back as the soldier ran up and ratcheted another shell into the chamber. Maybe this one was a bean bag too John hoped, though he doubted. Yet before the soldier could pull the trigger and fire his round a scream sounded and the man was dropped by a hit to his head.

The Heir came out of nowhere swinging a leg of iron like club. He struck the soldier a solid blow which dropped him right on the spot but the Heir wasn’t done. He gave the soldier two blows for good measure maybe or maybe just for making this a bitch of a morning. It really didn’t matter as John stood up on shaky legs while the blacksmith dropped the iron cudgel. Both turned to see the end of the street and Keiko by the corner waiting alone for them. They also watched in tired horror as more soldiers poured out onto the street taking up positions and blocking off any escape.

“I’m a dead man,” The Heir whispered in defeat.

Just then though a gout of flame struck the street all around the soldiers. A wall of flame leapt onto them setting the unfortunate ablaze and lucky ones scorched from the heat. It was as if some God had sent his wrath down to burn all those with evil intentions for the trio, but John knew better. He smiled as he thought of Wahkan and the Sian Tien Tang and the flame throwers on board.

“Your going to claim your birthright…and I'll have my freedom.” The Shaman remarked as he guided the Heir into a run across the street.

When that downspout of fire struck the soldiers massing in the street I almost jumped for joy, almost that is. The heat from the blast was scolding and I drew back to keep from losing my eyebrows. A few inches closer and I might have burst into a conflagration myself, but even though I felt my arms and face burning I was glad for it. When I saw those soldiers mass in the street ready to put an end to this adventure John and I shared I felt as angry as the hellish flames. I was not ready to go gently into death, no sir. I was ready to fight until there was nothing left of my resolve. Now, thankfully, there was no need to face the reaper. I slid Mayhem into its holster feeling the need for my pistol was no longer needed as I heard the screams.

I heard the soldiers scream as the flames covered them then the passing shadow of an air ship and I knew that damnable Wahkan was giving us the break we needed to make the final push. I thought I just might have to give him a kiss on his stone cheek for saving us. I looked back to see John and the Heir coming across the street staggering and stumbling. They looked no better than I did at the moment but I took solace in knowing they were walking. I turned and started to run across the street as the soldiers ran and dropped trying to put their burning clothes out. I heard the tell-tale popping sound of ammo being cooked off, literally, as I passed the burning mass of men floundering in the lake of fuel. The stink of burned flesh hit my noise as I made it to the wall of the village and the large gate that led to the outside. I looked back to see John and the Heir still making their way to me so I turned and saw the air ship floating just a swift run across the open field. I saw Wahkan standing on the deck next to a rope ladder and it was the best damn sight I had seen all day.

More of the ammo in the soldier’s vests went off as I took a breath and ran for the ladder. I made it and with every step I was sure I was going to be shot in the back, but there was no round striking me dead as grabbed the first rope rung. My side screamed in pain as I reached up and started for the deck pulling and stepping and swinging like mad. Then I was onboard with the help of a large hand from Wahkan. I was safe I thought as I leaned up against the rail for a second to catch my breath and bite back the pain. Then I looked back for John and drew Mayhem ready to cover the shaman as he made for his air ship.

John and the Heir ran past the burning men covering tHeir heads as they did to duck the exploding rounds and the furnace like heat of the fire. The Shaman had sympathy for the soldiers, but he knew there was nothing he could do to help them now. They had chosen a path that led them to this point, a painful death, but even if he put out the flames and healed tHeir flesh they would only meet a similar fate later. One does not outrun one’s karma and one does not stop the punishment when your soul is found lacking the Old Woman use to tell him, funny how the old sayings always popped up at the strangest times.

“Where are we going?” The Heir screamed as they went out the gate.

“Away from here first,” John answered guiding the man to the rope ladder hanging down from the deck of the Siang Tien Tang.

There was no wind from the flying air ship, no disturbance in the local atmosphere, and with the exception of the wind blowing across the plains it was eerily quiet. No sounds from the village and nothing all around. John started to step up onto the first rung of the ladder when the ping of a ricochet broke the quiet and he knew one of the soldiers was still able to fight. The Shaman didn’t look back or turn to see where the soldier was. He jumped up using his ‘Tobihi’ to almost make the top of the ladder, a long reach to the desk of the air ship.

((John uses his enchantment Tobihi))

The sound of a pistol returning fire met his ears just as Wahkan’s large hand gripped into his jacket. Another round pinged off the rail of the Siang Tien Tang as the large man pulled the Shaman up and onto the deck of the air ship. “Get Us Out Of Here Zheng! Wahkan ordered with a yell and the ghost sent the Junk skyward with a jump. The soldier, burnt and still hurting, finished off his clip then with frustration dropped his rifle to the ground.

A groan from his right reminded John all too well the run out of the village was not without consequence. He slid over and took a look at the Heir’s leg as the man spoke between gasps. “Where are we going now?”

“Like I said before, to claim your birthright and my freedom.” John answered using his magic to heal the wound.

((John casts Sprit Touch – Gontee. MP 800 – 30 = 770))

As the wound closes and John chants the Heir shakes his head. “What if I don’t want this ‘birthright’?”

“Then we might as well just drop you off and let the soldiers finish the job they set out to do.” Wahkan spat helping Keiko.

“Do you really think they would kill me…just like that?”

“No, I don’t think that…I know they will kill you just like that. The mere fact you’re alive will end up costing someone a lot more than a mountain Gil which makes him or her more than ready to kill you and anyone else who gets in the way.”

The words seemed to actually hurt the Heir, drive into his heart and cause pain. He looked away for a second then back to John whispering. “I just want my life, the one in the village…I want it back.”

“Then you need to claim what is yours, take it and the protection it offers.”

“How do I do that?”

John just smiled before walking over and healing Keiko. “You make a grand show when we get to your father’s company.”

Sitting there, leaning up against the rail of the Junk while Wahkan helped me, I could not help but hear the conversation between the Heir and John. A grand entrance, I was actually intrigued to see what the Shaman had up his sleeve for this twist. My side still hurt where I had been shot and yet that seemed nowhere as interesting as what John had in plan to me. The pilot Zheng took us skyward into the sun and clouds making good our escape from that village and the soldiers. We took a slow ride back taking the extra time to allow us to heal, and with John’s help my side mended quite well, and the trip allowed me to gather my thoughts.

We had been chased like a rabbit across the worlds by this Atlas Weapons company, almost killed a half-dozen times protecting a man who just a day ago had no clue he was a very rich and powerful CEO. I was almost blown to bits, shot more times than I could count, and all of it so a man could claim his birthright from a father who sent him away into exile. Not a pretty picture I know.

I should have been a tad upset, according to Pirate law I had every right to be extremely upset, but I was not really. Risking one’s life, be it in devilish hand-to-hand combat on the deck of an air ship or slapping a giant of a man standing by the bar, in a way is the greatest rush anyone can feel. Even as those soldiers surrounded us and threatened us with their rifles I never once considered my own demise. I hardly thought about it all, to me death is as exciting as the next breath.

Maybe that is why when we landed at Teidor I was never worried about the crowds of people. It was a full raging maelstrom that John set off as he introduced the Heir to the board and effectively the family that morning in the large oval room that served as a meeting place. In a blink we were surrounded yet again, only this time it was men in expensive suits carrying briefcases instead of rifles and ammo vests. The family screamed foul and pounded their fists on that long and expensively looking table in the center as if someone had murdered a beloved member of the fold, and in a way we had. I heard that after a few days the new CEO of Teidor was busy cleaning house, handing out dismissals and such to those who had seen fit to follow along with the plan to take over his newly acquired arms company.

And of course there were the threats of reprisal, during that day and the ones that followed. Some just cannot move on once their plans fall through I guess. I do have a fond memory of that day, shortly after the ruse had been blown and all the rats were scrambling. One man, maybe a family member, growled in a semi-pathetic way to me as he passed by on his way out.

“You’ll pay for this, I swear you will!”

I pointed out the large expanse of windows in the board room to the city of Midgar below and smiled back. “”I’ll be down there, come and find me if you dare.”

A week later

John sat in his usual seat in the Incense shop sipping a nice cup of warm Peppermint tea watching the City of Midgar walk by the large from window. The Shaman could have been deep in contemplation on how quickly things change, how the winds of change can blow your way making a nightmare go away overnight, but that wasn’t John’s way. He was ‘observing’ each person passing by noting something special with each, some unknown trait only he could see. For instance the lady who just passed, she was in love with a man who paid her little attention, probably her boss. She was dressed very nicely, maybe too much on the seductive side for an employer, and the look in her eye was that of a hunter. Only she wouldn’t capture her prey today, or the next and her life would slowly dwindle down to one unobtainable goal. Love would not be hers, at least not with the ones she thought she should have.

Then there was the mousy man who walked past going the other way quickly with his head ducked down and a paper tucked under one arm. Some might have dismissed him, and most had in the city, but John knew better than to look past this man. He was like the Gaff, smart, full of revenge, and yet unlike the boy with a computer in his brain the man was unable to enjoy a single moment of it for fear of reprisal. Some had already felt his wrath and they never knew who had paid them in full for whatever slight they had transgressed on him and they never would. There was no pleasure for the man in getting even and unfortunately the circle would begin again soon. He would seek revenge against someone and when it was done he would never feel better because he was afraid they were just outside his door ready to commence with their own revenge.

The door to the shop opened and John looked over to see someone new to the Incense shop. He recognized the tall well-dressed man in an instant; it was easy with all the word in the news about Atlas Arms and the alleged attempt to take over Teidor. The new customer recognized him John thought as the cold eyes under the meticulous haircut met his. The man had two very large body guards who stood by the door as the tall man walked over. The Shaman smiled and held out his hand to the open chair across the table.

“Good morning Mr. Bruinsma, would you like a cup of Peppermint tea?”

The CEO of Atlas Arms didn’t smile in greeting to John’s offer. He was not in the mood to be hospitable the Shaman considered as the man spoke. “No thank you, this is not meant to be a polite call I am afraid.”

“That’s unfortunate Mr. Bruinsma. I was hoping we could talk, get to know each other better.” John replied with a true sincerity. It was rather ironic seeing just a few days ago the Shaman had dismantled a well laid plan of Mr. Bruinsma and now the CEO found himself in some serious trouble for it…or so it seemed.

“Oh we’ll have plenty time to talk later Mr. Greywolf, and we will talk, only on my terms.”

That sounded just a little ominous to John as he eyed the CEO closely, and the two bodyguards. “Do you really think making this personal Mr. Bruinsma will help?”

“All this mess with Teidor, it will blow over, and in the end I’ll come out as clean as I am now Mr. Greywolf. No sir, it’s never personal. It’s only business and I do not need your magic to see we will meet again very soon.”

With his words said and in the ethos Bruinsma went back to the door and left with his bodyguard without as much as a glance toward John. To be truthful the Shaman didn’t think about the impolite nature of the meeting, it was meant to be an intimidation tactic that usually worked on most people. On John it was a waster though. He knew he would see Mr. Bruinsma again and when he did he’d find a way to stop whatever plan the man came up with. There was no real worry so John went back to his cup of Peppermint tea and people watching from his seat.