[FIC] The Rose (part 2, finale)
Posted: Sat Feb 14, 2004 4:37 pm
The scene inside the bank was tense. The cornered criminals were about to fight like trapped animals often did---doing the most damage they could with their fangs and claws. If they were going down, they were going to take a lot of people down with them. Starting with the captives.
That smokescreen meant something was up. “Let’s do it, lads!” the leader of the group pulled a World War Two vintage pistol out of its holster. It was one of the first items he had stolen as a youth. He turned to face the cowering group of employees and customers. Who should he choose first?
An explosion knocked him and his comrades off their feet. As if watching a videotape on Slo mo, they saw a section of wall break loose and start to fall. A number of expensive paintings and a finely woven tapestry were destroyed as the mass of stone and brick collapsed on top of a man with an assault rifle. Only his hand remained visible. It twitched, then lay still.
“Did those bastards pump a hallucinogenic gas in here?” One thug could not believe what he saw. Some large thing leaped into the bank. It defied description. Bringing around his submachine gun, the last sight he ever saw was a large red stain blossoming on his shirt. Falling, his lifeless hand spasmed, sending a stream of bullets towards the back of the room. A rococo statue---the sweat and toil of a local artist---shattered into a myriad of small pieces.
"Fumo Fumo Fumo"
”GET THAT F@CKING THING!!!!!!” A large man, the ‘muscle’ for the gang, brought a S.A.W. around, its belt rapidly shortening as the bullets were used up at a prodigious rate. To think those assholes laughed at me for bringing this. Overkill MY ASS!!! His muscles strained as he swung his gun around more. “WASTE IT!!!” Sparks flew as the arnor-piercing rounds chipped away at the exterior of the BK-M5, doing little damage. “WHAT THE….” His exclamaition was cut short as a line of red spots began moving up his leg, the limb threatening to detach from the rest of his body. The concerted fire of the other criminals had no more success than he had.
A mechanical voice could be heard. FIRE CEASING. FRIENDLIES IN THE LINE OF FIRE. Sure enough, the movement of the large man had placed him between Sousuke and a huddled group of young women.
“CEASE THIS YOU SHIT-EATING MOUSE!!!” Bordering on passing out, the man took advantage of the situation to resume his machine gun fire. Once again, the bullets did little to the BK-M5’s armor plating. They did, however, knock the top off of a rose in its left hand.
Sousuke saw red. Literally. Rose petals floated down to the floor.
"Fumo!!!"
“A.I. Switch to destructive level 10!”
COMPLYING, CREATOR. DONE.
Deflecting bullets, the BK-M5’s hand grasped the Squad Automatic Weapon. Closing its fingers, the M249 was twisted like a pretzel. A violent jerk of Sousuke’s arm led to a similar movement from Bonta-Kun. The headless attacker fell backward, blood fountaining from its severed neck. The head, a shocked expression on its face, landed in the middle of a large and fancy centerpice of silk flowers.
There was no room for kindness here. The transgressors’ lives could not be given more value than those of the hostages. This needed to be brought to an end, fast.
Two of the robbers were of a quicker mind than the others. They ran amongst the captives, remembering what the mechanical voice had said. They held their guns to the heads of am elderly man and a young boy holding a stuffed Mr. Chupi doll. “You back that thing off now, or we send brains flying!”
“Bonta-Kin. Query. Radar lock capability, present? If so, define.”
PINPOINT ACCURACY, CREATOR. LASER AIMING BACKUP SLAVED TO RADAR. HIT PROBABILITY IN THE HIGH NINETIES.
“Disengage all safeties. Head shots on gun-wielders. Do it. Now!”
AYE!
"Fumo FUMOFFU!!!"
The A.S. moved on its own. Two gunshots rang out. Sabot rounds punched two clean wholes through the foreheads of the 'wiser' assailants. Their exit from the back of each head was accompanied by a great splash of brain matter and skull fragments. The wall behind them looked like a grotesque work of modern art.
The other criminals were custered tightly together at the rear of the bank, willing to risk the rear door. Something large and round bounced at their feet.
Sousuke had pushed the Grenade button, launching a a lollipop-shaped projectile from the BK-M5’s backpack. The launching rod detached, allowing the round warhead to continue on alone.
Sousuke was taken aback. The police had H.E. chambered? He had expected a Stun grenade. No matter. The results were completely positive, just the same. The human cost of the captives could not be replaced. The absent rear wall could be.
"Fumo fumo fumo. Fumo. Fumo fumo. Fumoffu!"
The captives remained unmoving, a look of utter incomprehension on their faces.
Sousuke went to smack himself on the forehehad. The BK-M5 copied his action, slamming its left hand against its head unit. A rose head snapped off and slid past the external cameras to the ground. Cursing, the Sousuke toggled on normal amplified voice.
“Attention please. The threat has been removed. Call the authorities by phone, so you may leave safely, and they may send in medical assistance. I must affect rescue on the adjacent store. Please seek cover immediately. There will be an explosion.”
The erstwhile captives hustled to comply. Before being pulled under cover by his aunt, a young boy stood and saluted the BK-M5. The A.S. saluted in return.
"Fumo fumo fumo fumo fumo fumo...."
The Arm Slave ran towards the intact dividing wall. More explosive was extruded. The detonators were placed. The wall gave way to the massive detonation.
After the strange machine passed from view, young children ran to the center of the room, collecting rose petals in their small hands.
************************************************************
Sousuke felt as if he were moving at quarter-normal speed. Time was no longer important. He was already past due. His goal was important. The lives of the people in the jewelry store were important. The roses were important. Only four left…. He forced his mind back to the task at hand. Given the implications of his sudden appearance, he hoped the robbers would simply concede and give up.
For their sake.
For their captives’ sake.
For the flowers’ sake.
The plaster fell like snow, leaving a heavy coating of white on the glass display cases that were still intact. A number of brick fragments were still rolling, causing the kidnappers to hop out of the way. One oaken beam had fallen, clouting an unsuspecting gunman on the head and taking him out of the action. The remaining thugs were frantically looking for the best place to take a stand. The hostages were hiding under a sturdy countertop, arms clasped firmly around their heads.
“Fumo. Fumo fumo fumo. Fumo Fumoffu! Fumo! Fumo fumo.”
Sousuke shook his head. He fought the urge to slap his forehead again. He threw the necessary switch.
“Your compatriots in the bank put up a fight. They threatened the hostages.” Sousuke paused dramatically. “They’re all dead now.” He paused again. “Disassembled might be a better term.” Hopefully that would get them to think.
“BULL……….SHIT” That eloquent speaker, shaved head and all, was no doubt the leader of this bunch. “You cops don’t off people. You don’t splatter them all over the scenery. Just how stupid do you think we ARE?!!”
“A.I. Kneeshot. Now.”
AYE
A shot rang out, the aim accurate. A knee and surrounding tissue disintegrated in a swarm of steel pellets. “ARRRggghhh….” was all that the wit had to say this time. His submachine gun skittered across the tiled floor as he fell screaming.
Sousuke amped up the volume.
“I…..am…..NOT…..the…..police. Let‘s see just how mentally challenged you are….!” He held the A.S.’s weapon over its head.
THAT IS CORRECT. HE IS THE CREATOR. HE IS THE SA---
Sousuke slammed his hand down, killing the volume. He did not need to have to deal with an overly enthusiastic A.I. at a time like this. He did not want his identity known.
“A.I., refrain from unprompted discourse. That is a priority one directive.”
YES, CREATOR
Sousuke thought he was imagining things. The tone had changed. It wasn’t possible to have a dejected A.I., was it?
“Well, you sanctimonious son of a bitch, you can call me THE DESTROYER!!!” A large-boned squat man, wearing a patch-embroidered leather vest, brought up an RPG-7. They had certainly come prepared. The rocket propelled grenade fired.
Damn!!! Sousuke made a quick decision. Dropping the gun, he crouched the BK-M5 fully, and extended the right arm to its maximum length. He let the gun fall. He was betting his life on the blast characteristics of the first generation Soviet weapon and the sturdiness of his machine. If he had rolled out of the way, the grenade would have passed into the bank, killing many of the prior captives and the arriving medical attendants. Palm forward, he swatted at the projectile.
The explosion tore off the Arm Slaves right arm. The BK-M5 fell heavy to the ground. Out of the corner of his eye, Sousuke could tell that the roses were still safe. But, he had more pressing matters. The victorious thief was reaching into his satchel, most likely preparing to reload.
“A.I. Get this crafty on its feet. NOW!!!”
AFFRMTIVE CRETOR. STNDING N-N-NOW. SYS FAILRE LKLY. TWO MIN MAX. MAX. MAXMUM.
Sousuke was glad that the A.I.’s comments were not externalized. Time was important again. He would not survive if he triggered the slow-opening hatch. There were too many guns pointed in his direction. He could probably survive any number of hits from rocket propelled grenades, but it looked as if the manufacturer had cut costs by installing equipment with low shock tolerance. He would be trapped inside, safe but impotent.
“I AM the king!” The large-boned man was bringing up the RPG-7 again. “Lets tear him up, ladies!” The other thugs brought up their weapons and fired on the Arm Slave.
One spread of shotgun pellets decapitated two of the remaining roses.
Sousuke located well-dressed man, perhaps the shop owner or a store manager.
“Here. Take care of these. As if your life depended on it!” He moved his left arm, causing the Bonta-kun to throw the two remaining flowers to the man. He caught them. Quickly, he placed them in a blast-proof strong box and closed the lid.
Sousuke felt much better now.
Finally, he could fight with out constraints. No need to hold back any longer.
Grabbing the severed right mechanical limb with the left one, Sousuke brought it around with tremendous force. Two men were bounced off of the rear wall, landing in awkward crumpled heaps. Both twitched spasmodically. The large-boned man was flung hard against the very same wall, followed closely by the right limb. Arm and man crashed through the wall. Nuts, bolts, computer chips, and wire fragments spilled out onto the floor, accompanied by a waterfall of small intestines, spleen pulp, and a steady stream of blood.
“The king is dead. Long live the king!” Sousuke had the A.S. pick-up the shotgun in its left hand. It was close to being empty. It was not a problem.
The surviving transgressors stood up, hands placed behind their heads. It’s GOOD to be the king Sousuke thought.
The store manager placed a call to the police. He retrieved Sousuke’s two remaining roses for him, afraid to ask his unseen savior why they were so important. Thinking fast, he wrapped a 'Buy one piece of jewelry get an equally priced item for free' coupon around the stems. Emotionally exhausted, he bowed towards the strange looking fighting machine.
SYS FAIL SOON. SRRY CRTR. SRRY.
As law enforcement officers rushed into the jewelry store to apprehend the criminals and check on the condition of the captives, Sousuke ignored their requests for communication and ran the BK-M5 out of the shop and towards a nearby wooded park. The lights were flashing on and off. Blurry uninterruptible images danced across the computer screen and were gone. The gyros gave out, followed by the air handling system and the master hydraulics. There was just enough power left to open the hatch half-way, after the Bonta-Kun A.S. fell to the ground, ending up on its side.
Sousuke left the scene unwitnessed. No one followed his trail.
Sighing, he sat under a thickly planted arbor, unaware of the occasional small drops of water than dripped on his head, shoulders, and back.
Two roses left. Out of twelve. But, at least that was two more than he had started out with.
************************************************************
Despite the steady downpour, some type of event was in full swing at the park. Sousuke could hear festive music, even though he could not yet see the source. Darting from tree to tee, trying to preserve the flowers as best he can, he noted that the rain was slowing. The wind had died down.
When the rain stopped entirely, he followed the path to the park. One large gazebo held a brass band and string accompaniment. Another open shelter housed a group of revelers. The sound of clinking glasses could be heard, along with laughter.
That should be my glass and Kaname’s he thought. It should be our laughter. He looked at his watch. It wasn’t really all that late, taking into consideration all that had happened. His spirits began to climb again. It would be good to see Kaname.
Approaching a long bank of fanciful wraught-iron benches, Sousuke heard another sound. Sobbing. Someone was definitely crying. After passing by one third of the seats, he saw a young boy curled up in the fetal position, one hand across his eyes, and the other hand curled into a tight fist.
“Are you hurt or lost? Do you require assistance?” Sousuke approached the boy slowly, not wanting to frighten him.
The boy slowly sat up. For a moment, Sousuke’s appearance distracted him from his own problem. “You been in a accident, mister?” Sousuke certainly looked the worse for wear.
“You could say that.” Sousuke sat down next to the boy, nodding his head. “But, I am unharmed. Why were you crying?”
‘Were’ was soon an incorrect term. The boy’s tears fell again, coursing down his reddened face. “It’s Mama. She’s very sick. Very very sick. It’s Valtine’s Day. I wanted flowers. She should have flowers.” He opened his clenched hand. It held a few small coins. A bottle cap. A number of red tickets from a game arcade. “Not ‘nough money.” The items fell as the boy put his head down in his hands, body shaking as he came perilously close to falling off the bench.
Sousuke felt very uncomfortable. He could give the boy some money, but he shouldn’t be wandering too far on his own. And, he did NOT want to encourage the boy to take money from strangers. There must be something he could do to help.
There was.
It was OK.
One rose was as good as two.
“You are very fortunate to have a mother to love. I am sad that she is sick. You can have one of my flowers.” Before he handed the boy the rose, he gave him a short lecture on personal safety. Smiling, the boy hurried away towards home, skipping and humming a happy little tune.
For the first time that day, Sousuke felt as if he had really accomplished something.
************************************************************
A clumsy girl in a flow shop.
Punks, paintball, and pizza.
A crazed martial artist.
The very weather itself.
A tragic accident.
A boy, a ball, and near tragedy.
Trapped criminals and hostages at risk.
A sick mother and a caring son.
With each block he traveled, Sousuke did not lack for company. Memories from the day’s events walked with him. Any one of those would have made for a memorable afternoon. The mujahideen who raised him were rife with superstition and fatalistic thinking. He never gave such matters any thought.
Maybe he should.
Slow and steady wins the race. Finally, the street signs were ones he saw every day. He was getting very close to his apartment. In his younger days, he would have known exactly how many footsteps remained before he would be at his door.
The winds suddenly picked up again. So did the thunder. It was getting dark. Very dark.
The rain returned. Light at first, then heavy. Very heavy.
Sousuke spied a telephone kiosk. It might serve two useful purposes. He could call Kaname. And, if no one showed up needing to make a call, he could spend a few moments out of the rain, seeing if it looked like things might blow over any time soon.
He dialed Kaname’s number. No answer on the first try. No answer on the second or third attempts.
Reaching into his pocket for more coins, Sousuke braced himself. The kiosk was actually shaking. Looking out the window, he saw large trees bending over. Umbrellas rode the wind. Stop lights swung wildly. It was almost too loud to hear, even if Kaname were to pick up the phone.
He tried his own number. Kaname had a copy of the key and could be waiting for him there. Again, no answer.
Four loud snapping noises could be heard. Sousuke had no reason to know that it was the bolts holding down the nearby street light. No longer anchored, the huge metal pole fell straight for the telephone booth. If Sousuke hadn’t looked up through the glass roof when he did, he would have died right there and then. Jumping out past the folding door, he rolled into the flooded street just as the heavy post shattered the kiosk.
As soaked as he could possibly be, Sousuke picked himself off of the ground. His hand hurt. Thorns were stuck everywhere. Bringing the injured hand up, he saw what was left of the rose. Its stem had snapped in half. It was dripping water. The petals’ attachment seemed tenuous at best.
He didn’t know what to feel. He had no idea how long he stood there.
“Sousuke, is that for me?”
He turned ever so slowly, not trusting his ears. He had taken a blow to the head on the door frame.
It was Kaname. Her oversized yellow umbrella contrasted with her wet blue hair and fuzzy pink pull-over. Her eyes looked concerned. She didn't know what to think of the crushed kiosk or Sousuke's proximity to it.
There was a lot that he wanted to say. He simply held out the remnant of that final flower. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Kaname. I love you.”
“Thank you, Sousuke.” She couldn’t help but see his condition. There was no way she could guess just what he had been up to, or what he had been through. She was not certain she wanted to know. Her woman’s intuition told her that it had something to do with the rose. She smiled. Sousuke was very predicatble in most things. When he bought flowers, he bought them by the dozen. That must be some tale.
Sousuke almost collapsed in relief. He did fall into a pool of water after hearing Kaname’s next words.
“You know Sousuke, I am getting a bit tired of roses….”
“Kaname?” His voice barely made it past his lips.
Kaname smiled. Seeing the look on Sousuke’s face, she couldn’t carry the jest any further.
“I was just kidding, Sousuke. This flower looks like it has quite a story to tell. I don’t remember ever getting a more precious present. I love you too, you know….”
Sousuke was slowly developing an impish streak of his own. Still seated, he performed a texttbook leg sweep, catching Kaname in his arms when she landed with a huge splash. Pulling her close, he planted a long and deep kiss square on her lips.
A few minutes later, when they were both bowled over by a huge wave of water kicked up by a speeding tractor trailer, neither seemed to care.
************************************************************
The End.
That smokescreen meant something was up. “Let’s do it, lads!” the leader of the group pulled a World War Two vintage pistol out of its holster. It was one of the first items he had stolen as a youth. He turned to face the cowering group of employees and customers. Who should he choose first?
An explosion knocked him and his comrades off their feet. As if watching a videotape on Slo mo, they saw a section of wall break loose and start to fall. A number of expensive paintings and a finely woven tapestry were destroyed as the mass of stone and brick collapsed on top of a man with an assault rifle. Only his hand remained visible. It twitched, then lay still.
“Did those bastards pump a hallucinogenic gas in here?” One thug could not believe what he saw. Some large thing leaped into the bank. It defied description. Bringing around his submachine gun, the last sight he ever saw was a large red stain blossoming on his shirt. Falling, his lifeless hand spasmed, sending a stream of bullets towards the back of the room. A rococo statue---the sweat and toil of a local artist---shattered into a myriad of small pieces.
"Fumo Fumo Fumo"
”GET THAT F@CKING THING!!!!!!” A large man, the ‘muscle’ for the gang, brought a S.A.W. around, its belt rapidly shortening as the bullets were used up at a prodigious rate. To think those assholes laughed at me for bringing this. Overkill MY ASS!!! His muscles strained as he swung his gun around more. “WASTE IT!!!” Sparks flew as the arnor-piercing rounds chipped away at the exterior of the BK-M5, doing little damage. “WHAT THE….” His exclamaition was cut short as a line of red spots began moving up his leg, the limb threatening to detach from the rest of his body. The concerted fire of the other criminals had no more success than he had.
A mechanical voice could be heard. FIRE CEASING. FRIENDLIES IN THE LINE OF FIRE. Sure enough, the movement of the large man had placed him between Sousuke and a huddled group of young women.
“CEASE THIS YOU SHIT-EATING MOUSE!!!” Bordering on passing out, the man took advantage of the situation to resume his machine gun fire. Once again, the bullets did little to the BK-M5’s armor plating. They did, however, knock the top off of a rose in its left hand.
Sousuke saw red. Literally. Rose petals floated down to the floor.
"Fumo!!!"
“A.I. Switch to destructive level 10!”
COMPLYING, CREATOR. DONE.
Deflecting bullets, the BK-M5’s hand grasped the Squad Automatic Weapon. Closing its fingers, the M249 was twisted like a pretzel. A violent jerk of Sousuke’s arm led to a similar movement from Bonta-Kun. The headless attacker fell backward, blood fountaining from its severed neck. The head, a shocked expression on its face, landed in the middle of a large and fancy centerpice of silk flowers.
There was no room for kindness here. The transgressors’ lives could not be given more value than those of the hostages. This needed to be brought to an end, fast.
Two of the robbers were of a quicker mind than the others. They ran amongst the captives, remembering what the mechanical voice had said. They held their guns to the heads of am elderly man and a young boy holding a stuffed Mr. Chupi doll. “You back that thing off now, or we send brains flying!”
“Bonta-Kin. Query. Radar lock capability, present? If so, define.”
PINPOINT ACCURACY, CREATOR. LASER AIMING BACKUP SLAVED TO RADAR. HIT PROBABILITY IN THE HIGH NINETIES.
“Disengage all safeties. Head shots on gun-wielders. Do it. Now!”
AYE!
"Fumo FUMOFFU!!!"
The A.S. moved on its own. Two gunshots rang out. Sabot rounds punched two clean wholes through the foreheads of the 'wiser' assailants. Their exit from the back of each head was accompanied by a great splash of brain matter and skull fragments. The wall behind them looked like a grotesque work of modern art.
The other criminals were custered tightly together at the rear of the bank, willing to risk the rear door. Something large and round bounced at their feet.
Sousuke had pushed the Grenade button, launching a a lollipop-shaped projectile from the BK-M5’s backpack. The launching rod detached, allowing the round warhead to continue on alone.
Sousuke was taken aback. The police had H.E. chambered? He had expected a Stun grenade. No matter. The results were completely positive, just the same. The human cost of the captives could not be replaced. The absent rear wall could be.
"Fumo fumo fumo. Fumo. Fumo fumo. Fumoffu!"
The captives remained unmoving, a look of utter incomprehension on their faces.
Sousuke went to smack himself on the forehehad. The BK-M5 copied his action, slamming its left hand against its head unit. A rose head snapped off and slid past the external cameras to the ground. Cursing, the Sousuke toggled on normal amplified voice.
“Attention please. The threat has been removed. Call the authorities by phone, so you may leave safely, and they may send in medical assistance. I must affect rescue on the adjacent store. Please seek cover immediately. There will be an explosion.”
The erstwhile captives hustled to comply. Before being pulled under cover by his aunt, a young boy stood and saluted the BK-M5. The A.S. saluted in return.
"Fumo fumo fumo fumo fumo fumo...."
The Arm Slave ran towards the intact dividing wall. More explosive was extruded. The detonators were placed. The wall gave way to the massive detonation.
After the strange machine passed from view, young children ran to the center of the room, collecting rose petals in their small hands.
************************************************************
Sousuke felt as if he were moving at quarter-normal speed. Time was no longer important. He was already past due. His goal was important. The lives of the people in the jewelry store were important. The roses were important. Only four left…. He forced his mind back to the task at hand. Given the implications of his sudden appearance, he hoped the robbers would simply concede and give up.
For their sake.
For their captives’ sake.
For the flowers’ sake.
The plaster fell like snow, leaving a heavy coating of white on the glass display cases that were still intact. A number of brick fragments were still rolling, causing the kidnappers to hop out of the way. One oaken beam had fallen, clouting an unsuspecting gunman on the head and taking him out of the action. The remaining thugs were frantically looking for the best place to take a stand. The hostages were hiding under a sturdy countertop, arms clasped firmly around their heads.
“Fumo. Fumo fumo fumo. Fumo Fumoffu! Fumo! Fumo fumo.”
Sousuke shook his head. He fought the urge to slap his forehead again. He threw the necessary switch.
“Your compatriots in the bank put up a fight. They threatened the hostages.” Sousuke paused dramatically. “They’re all dead now.” He paused again. “Disassembled might be a better term.” Hopefully that would get them to think.
“BULL……….SHIT” That eloquent speaker, shaved head and all, was no doubt the leader of this bunch. “You cops don’t off people. You don’t splatter them all over the scenery. Just how stupid do you think we ARE?!!”
“A.I. Kneeshot. Now.”
AYE
A shot rang out, the aim accurate. A knee and surrounding tissue disintegrated in a swarm of steel pellets. “ARRRggghhh….” was all that the wit had to say this time. His submachine gun skittered across the tiled floor as he fell screaming.
Sousuke amped up the volume.
“I…..am…..NOT…..the…..police. Let‘s see just how mentally challenged you are….!” He held the A.S.’s weapon over its head.
THAT IS CORRECT. HE IS THE CREATOR. HE IS THE SA---
Sousuke slammed his hand down, killing the volume. He did not need to have to deal with an overly enthusiastic A.I. at a time like this. He did not want his identity known.
“A.I., refrain from unprompted discourse. That is a priority one directive.”
YES, CREATOR
Sousuke thought he was imagining things. The tone had changed. It wasn’t possible to have a dejected A.I., was it?
“Well, you sanctimonious son of a bitch, you can call me THE DESTROYER!!!” A large-boned squat man, wearing a patch-embroidered leather vest, brought up an RPG-7. They had certainly come prepared. The rocket propelled grenade fired.
Damn!!! Sousuke made a quick decision. Dropping the gun, he crouched the BK-M5 fully, and extended the right arm to its maximum length. He let the gun fall. He was betting his life on the blast characteristics of the first generation Soviet weapon and the sturdiness of his machine. If he had rolled out of the way, the grenade would have passed into the bank, killing many of the prior captives and the arriving medical attendants. Palm forward, he swatted at the projectile.
The explosion tore off the Arm Slaves right arm. The BK-M5 fell heavy to the ground. Out of the corner of his eye, Sousuke could tell that the roses were still safe. But, he had more pressing matters. The victorious thief was reaching into his satchel, most likely preparing to reload.
“A.I. Get this crafty on its feet. NOW!!!”
AFFRMTIVE CRETOR. STNDING N-N-NOW. SYS FAILRE LKLY. TWO MIN MAX. MAX. MAXMUM.
Sousuke was glad that the A.I.’s comments were not externalized. Time was important again. He would not survive if he triggered the slow-opening hatch. There were too many guns pointed in his direction. He could probably survive any number of hits from rocket propelled grenades, but it looked as if the manufacturer had cut costs by installing equipment with low shock tolerance. He would be trapped inside, safe but impotent.
“I AM the king!” The large-boned man was bringing up the RPG-7 again. “Lets tear him up, ladies!” The other thugs brought up their weapons and fired on the Arm Slave.
One spread of shotgun pellets decapitated two of the remaining roses.
Sousuke located well-dressed man, perhaps the shop owner or a store manager.
“Here. Take care of these. As if your life depended on it!” He moved his left arm, causing the Bonta-kun to throw the two remaining flowers to the man. He caught them. Quickly, he placed them in a blast-proof strong box and closed the lid.
Sousuke felt much better now.
Finally, he could fight with out constraints. No need to hold back any longer.
Grabbing the severed right mechanical limb with the left one, Sousuke brought it around with tremendous force. Two men were bounced off of the rear wall, landing in awkward crumpled heaps. Both twitched spasmodically. The large-boned man was flung hard against the very same wall, followed closely by the right limb. Arm and man crashed through the wall. Nuts, bolts, computer chips, and wire fragments spilled out onto the floor, accompanied by a waterfall of small intestines, spleen pulp, and a steady stream of blood.
“The king is dead. Long live the king!” Sousuke had the A.S. pick-up the shotgun in its left hand. It was close to being empty. It was not a problem.
The surviving transgressors stood up, hands placed behind their heads. It’s GOOD to be the king Sousuke thought.
The store manager placed a call to the police. He retrieved Sousuke’s two remaining roses for him, afraid to ask his unseen savior why they were so important. Thinking fast, he wrapped a 'Buy one piece of jewelry get an equally priced item for free' coupon around the stems. Emotionally exhausted, he bowed towards the strange looking fighting machine.
SYS FAIL SOON. SRRY CRTR. SRRY.
As law enforcement officers rushed into the jewelry store to apprehend the criminals and check on the condition of the captives, Sousuke ignored their requests for communication and ran the BK-M5 out of the shop and towards a nearby wooded park. The lights were flashing on and off. Blurry uninterruptible images danced across the computer screen and were gone. The gyros gave out, followed by the air handling system and the master hydraulics. There was just enough power left to open the hatch half-way, after the Bonta-Kun A.S. fell to the ground, ending up on its side.
Sousuke left the scene unwitnessed. No one followed his trail.
Sighing, he sat under a thickly planted arbor, unaware of the occasional small drops of water than dripped on his head, shoulders, and back.
Two roses left. Out of twelve. But, at least that was two more than he had started out with.
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Despite the steady downpour, some type of event was in full swing at the park. Sousuke could hear festive music, even though he could not yet see the source. Darting from tree to tee, trying to preserve the flowers as best he can, he noted that the rain was slowing. The wind had died down.
When the rain stopped entirely, he followed the path to the park. One large gazebo held a brass band and string accompaniment. Another open shelter housed a group of revelers. The sound of clinking glasses could be heard, along with laughter.
That should be my glass and Kaname’s he thought. It should be our laughter. He looked at his watch. It wasn’t really all that late, taking into consideration all that had happened. His spirits began to climb again. It would be good to see Kaname.
Approaching a long bank of fanciful wraught-iron benches, Sousuke heard another sound. Sobbing. Someone was definitely crying. After passing by one third of the seats, he saw a young boy curled up in the fetal position, one hand across his eyes, and the other hand curled into a tight fist.
“Are you hurt or lost? Do you require assistance?” Sousuke approached the boy slowly, not wanting to frighten him.
The boy slowly sat up. For a moment, Sousuke’s appearance distracted him from his own problem. “You been in a accident, mister?” Sousuke certainly looked the worse for wear.
“You could say that.” Sousuke sat down next to the boy, nodding his head. “But, I am unharmed. Why were you crying?”
‘Were’ was soon an incorrect term. The boy’s tears fell again, coursing down his reddened face. “It’s Mama. She’s very sick. Very very sick. It’s Valtine’s Day. I wanted flowers. She should have flowers.” He opened his clenched hand. It held a few small coins. A bottle cap. A number of red tickets from a game arcade. “Not ‘nough money.” The items fell as the boy put his head down in his hands, body shaking as he came perilously close to falling off the bench.
Sousuke felt very uncomfortable. He could give the boy some money, but he shouldn’t be wandering too far on his own. And, he did NOT want to encourage the boy to take money from strangers. There must be something he could do to help.
There was.
It was OK.
One rose was as good as two.
“You are very fortunate to have a mother to love. I am sad that she is sick. You can have one of my flowers.” Before he handed the boy the rose, he gave him a short lecture on personal safety. Smiling, the boy hurried away towards home, skipping and humming a happy little tune.
For the first time that day, Sousuke felt as if he had really accomplished something.
************************************************************
A clumsy girl in a flow shop.
Punks, paintball, and pizza.
A crazed martial artist.
The very weather itself.
A tragic accident.
A boy, a ball, and near tragedy.
Trapped criminals and hostages at risk.
A sick mother and a caring son.
With each block he traveled, Sousuke did not lack for company. Memories from the day’s events walked with him. Any one of those would have made for a memorable afternoon. The mujahideen who raised him were rife with superstition and fatalistic thinking. He never gave such matters any thought.
Maybe he should.
Slow and steady wins the race. Finally, the street signs were ones he saw every day. He was getting very close to his apartment. In his younger days, he would have known exactly how many footsteps remained before he would be at his door.
The winds suddenly picked up again. So did the thunder. It was getting dark. Very dark.
The rain returned. Light at first, then heavy. Very heavy.
Sousuke spied a telephone kiosk. It might serve two useful purposes. He could call Kaname. And, if no one showed up needing to make a call, he could spend a few moments out of the rain, seeing if it looked like things might blow over any time soon.
He dialed Kaname’s number. No answer on the first try. No answer on the second or third attempts.
Reaching into his pocket for more coins, Sousuke braced himself. The kiosk was actually shaking. Looking out the window, he saw large trees bending over. Umbrellas rode the wind. Stop lights swung wildly. It was almost too loud to hear, even if Kaname were to pick up the phone.
He tried his own number. Kaname had a copy of the key and could be waiting for him there. Again, no answer.
Four loud snapping noises could be heard. Sousuke had no reason to know that it was the bolts holding down the nearby street light. No longer anchored, the huge metal pole fell straight for the telephone booth. If Sousuke hadn’t looked up through the glass roof when he did, he would have died right there and then. Jumping out past the folding door, he rolled into the flooded street just as the heavy post shattered the kiosk.
As soaked as he could possibly be, Sousuke picked himself off of the ground. His hand hurt. Thorns were stuck everywhere. Bringing the injured hand up, he saw what was left of the rose. Its stem had snapped in half. It was dripping water. The petals’ attachment seemed tenuous at best.
He didn’t know what to feel. He had no idea how long he stood there.
“Sousuke, is that for me?”
He turned ever so slowly, not trusting his ears. He had taken a blow to the head on the door frame.
It was Kaname. Her oversized yellow umbrella contrasted with her wet blue hair and fuzzy pink pull-over. Her eyes looked concerned. She didn't know what to think of the crushed kiosk or Sousuke's proximity to it.
There was a lot that he wanted to say. He simply held out the remnant of that final flower. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Kaname. I love you.”
“Thank you, Sousuke.” She couldn’t help but see his condition. There was no way she could guess just what he had been up to, or what he had been through. She was not certain she wanted to know. Her woman’s intuition told her that it had something to do with the rose. She smiled. Sousuke was very predicatble in most things. When he bought flowers, he bought them by the dozen. That must be some tale.
Sousuke almost collapsed in relief. He did fall into a pool of water after hearing Kaname’s next words.
“You know Sousuke, I am getting a bit tired of roses….”
“Kaname?” His voice barely made it past his lips.
Kaname smiled. Seeing the look on Sousuke’s face, she couldn’t carry the jest any further.
“I was just kidding, Sousuke. This flower looks like it has quite a story to tell. I don’t remember ever getting a more precious present. I love you too, you know….”
Sousuke was slowly developing an impish streak of his own. Still seated, he performed a texttbook leg sweep, catching Kaname in his arms when she landed with a huge splash. Pulling her close, he planted a long and deep kiss square on her lips.
A few minutes later, when they were both bowled over by a huge wave of water kicked up by a speeding tractor trailer, neither seemed to care.
************************************************************
The End.
First the 'Hey, Taxi!' stunt and now BONTA-KUN?!?! 
Nah, I just need to come up with creative ways to advance the main plot line---the dwindling number of roses.
