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The arm had to go. Two arms weren’t worth lifting two tons of storefront.
Major? Ishikawa in her head, sounding more digital than human. Can you hear me? Whatever that signal surge was, it knocked out half our remote systems.
“Yeah, I’m here.” The rifle, too. No point in carrying something with that kind of kick one-handed. Her sidearm would have to do.
Major. Saito, his annoyance obvious even through static. I can’t see a damn thing through all this smoke. Whoever did this set off chaff grenades before they detonated the bombs.
“Which means they knew we’d have a sniper—rrrgh.” Belatedly, she switched off her pain receptors, then got to work. Getting into position took longer than she would’ve liked. Screams all around, Omotesando Road burning, and here she was, shoulder-deep in debris, squirming around trying to rip her left arm off. It took three hard rolls to the right to dislocate her shoulder and four solid minutes of pulling before her muscles and skin finally gave way. Then another ninety seconds to saw through the Kevlar woven into her sleeve.
Major! Batou, voice tight with worry. Are you all right?
“Remember when you said I should upgrade to a combat model body?” She drew her Seburo and turned off the safety before casting a wistful glance at the stump of her arm. Reloading was going to be a pain. With any luck, she’d have someone else’s gun by the time this magazine was empty. “I’m starting to agree with you.”
Major, uh… Togusa. A little stressed, but at least his voice didn’t have that nervous twinge anymore. She allowed herself a moment of pride in her hand-picked rookie before rising to her knees. I’m at Naritasan’s front gate, a couple guys just ran in. I want to pursue. Can I pursue?
“Not alone.” She rose to her knees, taking a quick look around. Half of Omotesando’s shops and restaurants were in flames, filling the air with the stench of burning eel and melting plastic. A pair of tourists ran by, still dragging their luggage; she rolled her eyes and let them go. “Where’s Paz?”
In the central shrine playing babysitter. Paz came in loud and clear. Ishikawa must’ve fixed the comms. The Councillors are okay, but I’m—one second. Sorry, had to stab somebody. He may as well have been talking about the weather. She smirked, starting down the road towards the temple. Nothing like a former Yakuza to make their jobs sound easy.
“Togusa, Batou, get to Paz. Saito, find a new vantage point. Tachikoma?” Machine gun fire erupted farther down the road. She dropped into a crouch, gun up, as a pair of men came barreling around the corner.
Followed by a shimmering distortion the width of the street.
The pair stopped dead at the sight of her. One poor bastard turned to aim at their pursuer while the other, clearly desperate, tried to flee into a burning ryokan. Twin bursts from camouflaged machine guns put both men down.
A blue spider-tank blurred into existence and raised a gun-claw in salute. “Here, ma’am!”
Salutes. Batou had them saluting now. She sighed and approached the Tachikoma. “Took you long enough to get here.” Seeing the state of it, she hesitated. “What happened?”
“I’m sorry, ma’am.” She had no idea how a machine could look so apologetic, but it managed, dipping its cannon barrel towards the ground. Its front chassis was covered in dents, and sparks flew out of one damaged eye-dome. “I was near one of the bombs. My sensors picked it up when the trigger primed, and I thought I could destroy it in time, but…” Larger than a full-size sedan, more heavily armed than a Special Assault Team, and still it managed to seem sad. “I couldn’t. Five policemen died.”
“Well, you tried.” Far be it from her to scold a robot for trying to save some humans. Batou would’ve given it a pat on the cannon for its efforts; the best she could offer was a sympathetic nod. She gestured towards the dead men. “Are those the only guys you’ve seen?”
“No, ma’am. I’ve seen ten so far. I killed five, but the rest scattered, so I’ve been trying to keep them out of the temple…”
Ten well-armed men and a street full of bombs? To kill a few Diet councilors during a temple visit? It didn’t add up. She walked back to the dead men, crouching over them. It was hard to make out through the blood, but something was written in jagged katakana on their body armor: Not Alone.
Terrific. Shaking her head, she broke into a run towards the temple, gesturing for the Tachikoma to follow. It took the high road, leaping up to and between rooftops, hopping across burning buildings as easily as a goat traversing a cliff face.
“Ishikawa, got anything on these guys?”
Nothing yet, other than a pair of rental vans on the eastern side of the temple. They got ‘em at the airport a week ago, must have been setting up this attack since then.
Fifteen, maybe twenty bodies at the temple gate. She slowed to a jog and raised her pistol, but nobody aimed back. Cautiously, she started ascending the steps towards the main temple. “It doesn’t make any sense. That amount of preparation, they could’ve bombed the whole temple. Why burn the street? Why send in men at all?”
“Somebody wanted a firefight.” Batou’s voice rang from the top of the steps. He flinched at the sight of her arm, but didn’t say anything. Good to know he saved his doting for the Tachikomas.
“Somebody got one. Are the councilors okay?”
Yeah. Paz waved from the edge of the pavilion, speaking aloud as they came closer. “A little shaken up. One of them’s crying.”
“Glad I didn’t vote for him,” Batou grumbled, still eyeing her arm. “Did we get all ten guys?”
“Last one here.” Togusa entered the pavilion, dragging an unhappy-looking man in body armor by the collar. “He says he’s not—“
“Not alone,” she said. “Yeah, we got that part.”
The man looked around wildly, opened his mouth wide, and bit down hard.
MA’AM! Tachikoma’s voice, screaming in her brain. HE’S PRIMING A TRIGGER IN HIS MOUTH—
There was a distant gunshot, and their last surviving assailant no longer had a head.
I found a better vantage point.
Thanks, Saito. But now their only source of information was dead. She would've complained, but anything she was about to say caught in her throat as the ground rumbled under her feet.
In the distance, a fireball rose, holographic katakana shining above it: NOT ALONE.
Motoko Kusanagi rolled her remaining shoulder, glanced at her squadmates, and started back toward the stairs.
Today was going to be a long day.