Chapter Text
10/12/2004
Westopolis
9:34PM
Westopolis, the urban heart of the mountainous region of Mobius known as the Obsidian Zone. It was known for its thriving nightlife, brutal gangs, and for being the home of Chaos Cola’s corporate HQ. Rain poured down on the traffic polluting the midnight black streets as Mr. Max Gamble, the CEO of Chaos Cola, was finishing up for the day in his office. The Lizard was dressed immaculately in a blue pinstripe suit, a white fedora hanging on his coatrack. A cigar hung from his mouth as he was looking through the latest sales report. “Heh, those new Robotnik Industries mixer-bots do their job well. Best purchase I ever made.”
A knock at his door stole his attention. He glanced up and saw his secretary, a young dove named Eve, standing just outside. Gamble always kept an open-door policy, which made him seem more reasonable to his workers. Workers who feel comfortable work harder to stay comfortable. “I’m heading home for the night, Mr. Gamble. I forwarded you an email from Honey Clothing and Accessories; they wanted some more details on our holiday season collaboration.”
“I appreciate it, toots; you’re an angel. Get home safe now, ya hear?” He waved her out, not noticing her grimace as she turned, before he stood up, grabbed his fedora and overcoat with the fur collar, turned off the lights and left. He made his way to his personal elevator and pressed the button to take him to the parking garage. Music began to play through the speakers, some modern pop group he had never heard before. “What the hell is this shit? Sounds…Japanese? Korean? Whatever, I hate this pop shit. No Chaos-damned soul.”
The door opened to the garage, and he was greeted by the sight of four other Mobians, all dressed in black suits. “I trust your day was decent, Boss.” The alligator spoke first, his voice smooth like good whiskey.
He shrugged in response as he exited the metal box. “As good as it can be. How did collections go? I seem to remember a few people borrowed credits from the Family they had to pay back.”
“A few knees needed to get smashed,” The Snow Leopard stated with the same casual disappointment given to forgetting your wallet. “But one of them, Bobby at the pawnshop, he said he got robbed last night. A buncha guns went missing.”
Gamble’s eyes sharpened into a glare. “And that fucker didn’t think to call me? Someone stealing guns from my territory doesn’t sound good for my health.”
“Correct.” A new voice joined the party. The triggermen turned around to see a figure standing in the shadows. It stepped forward to reveal a woman, a brown Wolf with blonde hair tied in a ponytail, her trench coat closed tight around her. The thing that caught everyone’s attention was the scoped rifle slung over her back. “You were rather easy to find, Mr. Gamble.” Her voice was almost impossible to hear, like a whisper.
The triggermen reached into their coats as Gamble looked the stranger over. “Well, not how I prefer to be approached by a woman in a trench coat at night, but you certainly have my attention, Miss…?”
“None of your concern,” she cut him off. “I understand you recently hired an assassin, an octopus. I need to know where he is.”
His guards glanced at each other with expressions that spoke of the dread of another busy night involving bullets and a vat of chemicals. Gamble gave a lighthearted chuckle, as if hearing an unfunny joke from a child. “That, sweetheart, is a rather serious accusation. I am just the humble CEO of a cola company. I’m no criminal…and I’m no snitch either.”
“I have no interest in how you conduct business, Mr. Gamble. I am not the police, G.U.N., or connected to any rival families who have reason to want you dead. All I need is the location of the man you hired; he is my priority.”
“Alright, fuck this.” The Alligator cracked his knuckles. “Let’s waste this bitch, guys. All she has is that rifle, a bolt action if my eyes are still good. At best she gets one good shot, maybe two, before we put her in the ground.”
Gamble watched as the men pulled out their pistols and let out a sigh. “Fine. You have fun, boys. Just call the cleaners when you’re done.”
“You are correct,” Whisper began. “The rifle on my back would be a terrible choice for close quarters combat against four armed criminals. However, I believe you mentioned something about stolen guns earlier?”
With that last word, she tossed off her coat, revealing a vest with six holsters sewn into it, each containing a pistol. But before the triggermen could fire a single shot, a retro hovercar drove between them and Whisper, giving her the time to pull out two 9mm’s from her vest. As soon as the car passed and came to a stop, she opened fire. Her first bullet tore through the Snow Leopard’s head; he was dead on the spot. She dove behind a nearby pillar for cover. “Rush the psycho!” The gator yelled. Unfortunately, in the chaos, they did not notice the driver had dropped a smoke grenade when he drove by.
It went off, quickly covering the area in thick smoke. Whisper leaped from her cover and opened fire once more. Her enhanced sense of smell gave her a good sense of her targets locations. The Gator went down after four well-aimed shots to the chest. The Dingo attempted to charge her from the back, only to be greeted by an elbow to the snout and a bullet through the upper story. The smoke began to clear and the last gunman, a Jackal, had her in sights and began to squeeze the trigger.
BANG!
The Jackal went down with barely a sound. Whisper glanced over at the car where the driver, a crocodile wearing a partially done button up, a gold chain necklace, and a leather jacket, stood there with a smoking .44 Magnum. “Heh, still got it.”
Gamble, after seeing his four best killers wiped in less than two minutes, made the oh so wise decision to flee. The Crocodile took aim, but Whisper beat him to it, a 9mm tearing through the mobster’s thigh. As he screamed on the ground, she made her way to the man. “I did try to settle this without bullets. Now you are going to tell me: Where is the assassin you hired?”
“How should I fucking know?! It’s not like he and I shared life stories over fucking whiskey and cigars; I just hired him for a job! Whack some cop who didn’t want to play ball with us, that’s it!” She responded by putting her foot on the bullet wound, earning a high-pitched scream of agony. “Okay, okay! He mentioned something about Spiral Hill! It’s a little shithole town on the border of the Green Hill Zone! That’s all I know, you psycho whore!”
“Thank you. One last thing,” She said as she lifted her foot just off his thigh. “Give me your cell phone.”
“F-fucking what?”
She brought her foot back down. “OKAY, O-FUCKING-KAY! IT’s my coat pocket, right side!”
She plucked it from the Reptile’s pocket and finally removed herself from him. “Thank you for your time, Mr. Gamble.” She turned and made her way to the car, picking up the discarded coat as she did so. The Crocodile got in the driver side and waited for her. “Torturin’ the guy was a little much, don’tcha think?”
She put the phone in his hand. “As we agreed, Detective. Your client will be most pleased with the evidence on there, I am sure. Assuming you can unlock it. I can’t imagine the Chaotix Detective Agency has the same resources as the police.”
“Pleasure doin’ business, Miss. And to answer your smart-aleck comment, I have just the guy to handle this. Speakin’ of which, the phone was only half the payment. Ya still owe 2k for my services. The illegal shit carries an extra fee.” He backed the car up and began driving out of the garage.
“You certainly don’t waste time, do you?”
“Hey, I got a partner and a kid to feed and keep a roof over.” He nodded to the dash, where a picture was held up by a small luau doll. In it was himself, a purple Chameleon who appeared to be in his mid-twenties, and a Bee who couldn’t have been more than ten.
She looked at it and took notice of the Chameleon. “He seems a little young for you, doesn’t he?”
He glanced over at her in confusion before his eyes widened as the implication kicked in. “BUSINESS PARTNER! Why does everyone keep assuming that? I’m straight, for fuck’s sake!”
“Is he?”
He froze after that question. “That’s beside the point.”
The rain began to pelt down on their car. They drove in silence for a few moments before Vector asked another question. “So, um, what’s next for you? Ya goin’ after this assassin guy you mentioned?”
She nodded to confirm it, giving no more information.
“I see. Can I ask why? What did this guy do to give a woman in her thirties that look?”
She glanced over at him. “What look?”
“The look of someone who’s stopped carin’ if they live or die,” He stated as he made a turn off the highway. “I was a cop before I went private. I seen that look too many times.”
She thought about lying, deflecting, anything. But after six months of that routine, maybe it wouldn’t hurt to let it out, just a little. “He killed my family…including my fiancée.”
He nodded, as if he was expecting that answer, or at least one similar. “Sorry for your loss.”
He pulled up to a cheap motel on the outskirts of the city. “This is where yer stayin’, right?”
“Yes,” She reached into her coat and pulled out a wad of cash. “Two thousand credits, as we agreed.”
She handed it to him, and he looked at it before reaching out and only taking half. “One thousand. Consider it my ‘I hope ya get the bastard’ discount.”
Her head cocked to the side in bewilderment. “But your friends-.”
“Bustin’ Gamble will fill the bank account plenty, at least until the next job. Besides, maybe you can promote my services on the road? Seems fair to me, considering I saved yer ass back there.” His snout broke into a warm that showed off his teeth that qualified as weapons in their own right.
A chuckle almost escaped her lips before she forced it back down. “It seems fair. Thank you.” She exited the car. Vector stayed there until she entered the hotel room and then drove off.
Once inside the grimy hotel room, she tossed aside her coat and collapsed onto the bed, and passed out almost as soon as her head hit the pillow. Then the nightmares started.
“Why did you take that shot, Whisper? You could have killed that kid!” Smithy’s voice was harsh, angry in a way she never heard
“I-it was an accident, Smithy, I swear! I-.”
“And what about me, Fido?” Whisper turned to see Slinger, a bleeding hole visible on his forehead. “I died because you voted to take that job. Я думал, ты мой друг. (I thought you were my friend.)
“Whisper?”
She turned to see Claire, looking down at the ground. “Claire? Baby, I’m so sorry! I- I didn’t mean for any of this to-.”
“We were going to spend the rest of our lives together. But none of it was your fault, I promise.” She looked up, revealing a face that was burned to the blackened bone. “I still love you.”
The sound of a knife cutting through skin silenced any other speech. She looked down to see a knife buried hilt deep into her stomach, and when she looked up, a familiar pair of black eyes with white sideways pupils were staring at her. “Mimic…”
“It will be over soon, Hermana. Just relax.” His tentacles began to wrap around her, cutting off her air. She fought and screamed and screamed and screamed until-
“AHHHHHHH!” She woke up, sitting upright. The mattress beneath her was soaked through with sweat. After several deep breaths, she glanced over at the clock on the nightstand: 2:35AM. She quickly packed her things and slipped the coat over her shoulders, before rushing to her vehicle, a van she had acquired back in Central City a few months ago. She tossed her luggage in the back with no ceremony before getting into the driver’s seat. If sleep intended to torment her once more, then she might as well hit the road. “Okay. Spiral Hill. GPS says it will be a seven hour drive. Might as well get started.”
She glanced up and looked up at the picture of the Diamond Cutters, with Mimic’s face having been X’d out in red sharpie. “I will end you, you piece of shit. I promise.”