GOMLCrackcase: Opus Epic

The morning of St. Valentine's Day

Aras Duval awakens this Sunday morning on the crooked table of his apartment, head planted on the coaster of the knocked-over coffee mug.  He sees the coffee stain and attempts to wipe it away, discovering that his fingers lift a dense layer of dust along with the coffee.  Aras blinks, and realizes his entire apartment is in a similar condition: junk upturned, furniture with more coffee stains, and all clothed in filmy dust.

He decides at once he must clean the place.  It is difficult to remember how it ended up this way, but certainly, if someone attempted now to step through the living room, they risked losing life and limb traversing the dirty gauntlet.

It is noontide when Aras manages to reach his bedroom.  He opens the closet in search of clean clothes and spies a box on the upper shelf.  The cardboard box is unfamiliar and unlabeled.  Something tells him to leave it alone, but Aras takes it down anyway.  He clears a small patch of free space on the bed and sits.  The box is not taped, and he easily flicks open the top.  He looks inside, and remembers why he was not supposed to open it:

Cold.  The winter gusts biting hardest from his vantage point on the roof.  Down in the streets, Aurelia is pinned against the white column of a courthouse, resisting with all her strength from being crushed by the crowbar.  Even from his height, Aras can see the man is winning.  He draws the string.  The power of the compound bow can pierce the man's helmet, skull and all.  Coupled with Aras' pinpoint aim, the man would not survive.  Aras releases the arrow.

Crack!  He feels the hammering blow into his shoulder before he hears the sound of iron against his bone.  The force knocks him backwards momentarily.  The arrow feathers swoosh as they scrape against the metal riser and Aras realizes his single movement has changed their flight path.  He deals a knockout blow to his attacker with the bow itself and screams Aurelia's name.

Aurelia sees the flash of the arrow in the midst of the struggle.  She flattens herself against the column, and a searing fire draws itself across her cheek.  The pain doesn't strike immediately, and Aurelia seizes her opportunity.  Her own attacker, startled by the arrow passing in front of his eyes, has loosened his hold on the crowbar.  She pushes free and delivers a punishing kick to the man's groin.

Aras sees her triumph and slides down to his knees, sorely relieved and guilt-ridden.

Aras remembers his silent promise never to use the compound bow again.  The time between release and actual "firing" was too long compared to a handgun or rifle; too much room for error.

He also remembers that he has not seen Aurelia in the last year, no, two years.  Certainly he knows where she lives, but it has never before occurred to him to visit.

"Better now than never," he says aloud to himself.  Unbeknownst to him, the memory has also awakened a subconscious guilt that Aras has never managed to let go, driving his decision to see Aurelia that very moment.


The February air in the city is frosty, as if invisible ice pinpricks hang in the air, nibbling on noses that pass through their domain.  Aras proceeds down the street, making his way through a growing crowd.  The roadside is barred by yellow tape and wooden barricades.  The sound of trumpets and drums echo as a pink float decorated with hearts and cupids carouses by.  It is the St. Valentine's Day parade and he wonders that he did not hear the din earlier.  Perhaps his apartment does have good insulation after all.

A little girl, dressed in a spangled heart dress, pushes a bouquet of flowers into his face.

"Will you buy a boo-kay?  Five dollars?  It supports my school.  Please?"

Aras pulls his face out of the cloud of pollen and shakes his head.  "Sorry, I don't–"

"I know you're going to see a girl!  I just know it!  You have to buy one!  That way she'll fall in love with you."

"Um–"

The girl does not give him a chance.  She turns to look back at someone.

"Mommy!  He's not buying the flowers!"

A little embarrassed and intimidated by the approaching "Mommy"–who on account of her heels would have towered over him had she been close enough–, Aras hastily slips a five dollar bill into the girl's hands and takes the bouquet.

"Thank you mister!" she squeals as he attempts to lose them in the mass of passersby.  Aras holds the bouquet behind him to keep the pollen a good distance from his nose, unaware that he appears to be a suitor on his way to woo a lovely lady.


Aurelia's apartment, rather Reyes' apartment, sits further downtown, closer to the skyscrapers and government buildings.  The gateway is guarded only by a buzzer, next to which lists the rooms and names of the occupants.  Reyes Ando, #1001, the only apartment on the top floor.  Aras makes a quick prayer that Reyes is not home.  He presses the button.

"Hello?????"

Aras winces inwardly.  It is Reyes.  "Hi…"

"ARAS!  YOU'VE FINALLY COME TO VISIT ME!  YOU NEVER VISIT!  Ofelia always tells me you're super super super busy and you never pick up the phone or return my messages.  Gobshite says hi!  You came on a great day!  It's Valentine's Day, did you know?  I'm busy–"

"Can I come in?"

"Yes yes!  The stairs are a little blocked, so you'd better take the elevator!"  Aras enters, wondering why he should ever take the stairs to the tenth floor, blocked or not.

The arthritic elevator rattles its way to the top and quivers to a halt.  Aras steps out into the antechamber, sunlight streaming from the skylight, the glimmering dust casting speckles of shadows.  Before he can knock, the door swings open.

"You brought flowers!  Are they for me???"

Aras does his best to ignore Reyes' lack of clothes, with the exception of a pink embroidered apron.  A fine powder of flour coats his hair and hands, and his arms are spread in the gesture preempting a hug.

Aras takes a step back.  "Sure–I mean, no, these are not for you.  Is Aurelia home?"

Aurelia is indeed home, lounging on the couch.  She hears the commotion at the door and sighs.  She feels bad for whomever is at the doorway observing Reyes' style of fashion and decides to save her roommate from further trouble.

Before Reyes can answer, Aurelia appears beside him.

"Aras!"  For a second, that is all she can manage to say.

The lanky sharpshooter glances sheepishly at the bouquet of flowers.  "Um, these are…not for Reyes.  Do you have a vase or anything to put them in?"  He hands it over.

Aurelia passes the bouquet to Reyes like a hot potato.  "Reyes, find a vase."  As Reyes dashes off gleefully, Aras is surprised to find himself a tad saddened that his gift was so easily handed off to a certain naked man's grubby paws.  "So, what are you doing here?"

Aras shrugs.  "Just...I haven't seen you in a while."

"Hmph.  You sound like you want to talk."  Aurelia grabs her coat and steps out into the antechamber.  "Reyes is baking.  I'll be glad for an excuse to leave."

The parade has ended and the pair stride through a combination of slush and rose petal confetti.  Aras does not know where they are going.  Neither does Aurelia.  They make small talk, the weather, the news, Reyes' antics, their recent jobs, their past jobs.

A green light forces the two to pause at the intersection, beside a floral shop.  Aras notices a cupid decoration wielding a red recurve bow.  The memory strikes him again, and he is momentarily trapped in reliving it.

Aurelia, aware of his sudden silence, follows his eyes.  "Something wrong with Cupid?"

"No, it's…"  Aras looks back at her.  Instinctively, he traces the scar on her cheek.  Aurelia shudders at his light touch and realizes the significance of the cupid.

"Aras…"

A surge of intense guilt rises up in his chest.  "I'm sorry," he whispers.

"Don't be.  It wasn't your–"  A movement catches her eye in the reflection of the window.  A dark figure is perched on the building behind her.  A tiny red pinprick appears on Aras, slightly distorted by his wavy hair.

"Get down!" she shouts, throwing herself onto him.  PATATATATA!  A shower of bullets shatters the windowpane as they collide with the sidewalk.  The nearby city-goers scream and begin running in all directions.  In one fluid motion, Aras lifts Aurelia in an arm and slides into the alley behind the floral shop.

"What was the hell was that?"

"He was aiming for you.  Red dot.  A sniper.  On the roof.  You don't happen to have your gun, do you?"

"No luck."  Aras peers out.  The street is noisy with screams and sirens.  "It's not safe in the open.  Do you know where this alley leads?  We should get back to Reyes."

Aurelia agrees.  "Follow me."

The evening before

The bartender quietly re-polishes the glass, wondering when his regulars are going to leave.  The businessman and his companion, a woman with a crooked nose and scar, have been sitting at the bar since seven o'clock.  They have made no move to leave, and the bartender is worried that he will have to forcibly remove them at closing time, not exactly good customer service.  Perhaps he should not have spoken with that Chinese man earlier.  A thick stash of cash for adding a spoonful of white powder and a dose of opaque green liquid (both of which he had been assured were legal additions) to their drinks, double dose to the businessman.  Now they seem too drugged even to speak.

The door opens.  It is the Chinese man again.  He winks at the bartender and approaches the drunken pair.

"Anna, Reinald, it's past your bedtime, yeah?  Let's get you home."

Reinald Todorov shakes his head to clear the fogginess hanging over him.  Something is clouding his mental faculties and, at present, he hasn't the ability to figure out why.  He slides off the stool and stumbles on invisible obstacles.

Anna Smith is in a similar condition.  She has enough of her senses to feel annoyed, but at the moment, only Leon's insistence that they "go home" was clear enough to follow.

The cabbie leads the two to his car.  As they clamber into the backseat, Leon swaps out his car freshener for a newly purchased one from Victoria's Secret, laced with his own combination of pheromones and aphrodisiacs.  He turns on the AC full blast and puts in noseplugs.

After several minutes on the road, Anna mumbles, "something smells awful."

"What was that?" Leon asks, "Getting a little hot back there?"  He turns down the AC, but only hears a disappointing silence.  He wonders if their age is affecting their sensitivity to his chemicals.  It is time for Plan B.

Leon drives up to an abandoned home, specifically selected for this purpose.

"We're home!"

Reinald peers out, squinting at the automatic floodlights over the garage.  "Where is this?"

"It's where you live, Mister Todorov.  You too, Anna.  Don't you remember?"

Anna groans and gets out of the car.  "If there's a bed inside, I'm happy."  She makes her way to the shabby front door as Leon drags Reinald out of the car.  The door is locked and she waits for the cabbie, assuming for no reason that he has the key.

Leon knocks on the door.  Suddenly all the indoor lights flash on and the door is swept open with a bang.  Reyes showers the pair with confetti.

"It's midnight!  It's Valentine's Day!"

Before Reyes gets carried away, Leon coughs and waves at Reyes.  "Hey, hey, don't forget what I told you to do.  It's very important for their relationship."

Reyes salutes.  "Yes sir!  Come right this away!"  Anna looks at Reinald, who appears even less functional than before.  He follows Reyes, and she supposes she ought do the same, if only to make sure nothing weird happens with this strange man prancing without underwear on.

"If you'll stand right here, I'm going to open this door."  He arranges Reinald and Anna in front of a sliding door, fussing over their exact position.

Reinald focuses on Reyes.  "Remind me who you are."

"Oh, I'm Reyes," the man going commando replies with a cheeky grin.  "Have fun!"

WHOMP!  In a domino effect, Reyes shoves Anna into Reinald and they are squeezed into the cramped closet.  The door slides shut and Anna hears the click of a lock that should not belong on a closet door.  In another moment, the sound of a motorcycle roaring signals Reyes' getaway.

The trauma ignites a surge of adrenaline, and Anna's mind clears a little.  "Where's my gun?  Reinald, find the doorknob."

Shuffling.  A pause.

"Reinald, that's not the doorknob."

"I'm aware.  Apologies."  She feels his warm breath on her ear and scents alcohol…and caramel?

"Put your hands down and let me find it."

Another pause.

"Anna, that's not the doorknob either."

"Stop moving and shut up, or else I'll shoot your doorknobs."

Her hand hits the latch.  BAM!  Anna's handgun blasts open the lock and they spring out like a compressed piston.

Onto a mattress.  With lacy pillows and silk sheets to boot.  Reyes had arranged them–per Leon's instructions–so that Anna would land first, and Reinald on top of her.

"The f–?"  Their eyes meet.  In the darkness, his pupils seem larger than life, penetrating her in a strangely focused stare.  For a moment, a flicker of an idea crosses both their minds, their faces inches apart, hearts pounding in time.  Anna closes her eyes.

"What exactly did Leon do this time?"  She blinks and Reinald appears to be his old self again.  Anna assumes his liver has finally processed whatever strange substance was in his drink.

"Not really sure," she replies, "but it would help if you got off of me."  Reinald complies, pushing himself up.

The wall behind them explodes.  BOOM!  Her eardrums are knocked senseless as Reinald collapses back onto her, his cravat smothering her face.  A gust of unbearable heat and choking smoke surrounds them.

It is over in a matter of seconds.  Anna gives a mighty push upwards, wondering why Reinald is heavier than usual.  She breaks through the surface of the rubble and picks her ears to stop the ringing.  The scene is awash in moonlight, bits of wood planks and plastic siding in a great big mound, smoldering fires being put out by broken pipes spraying water.  She clears the space around her and finds the closet door on top of Reinald.  The top side is charred, but the other side is unharmed.  Leon's modified door has saved them.

"Come on, big guy."  Anna lifts Reinald out from under the door, and her hand comes away wet and glistening.  She smells the metallic tang.  "Oh fuck."  The businessman is unresponsive, but he is breathing.

She presses her jacket to the wound to stem the flow, and makes a phone call.

Three days prior

Her head feels like crap.

Ofelia Qian finds herself on an iron chair, bound and naked.  The room is dark, and the musk of mildew hangs in the air.

She vaguely remembers returning from a run, striding up the stairs, but not actually reaching the door.  Between that memory and now, she has a blank.  What happened?

Ofelia wiggles to test the bonds.  It's a tight rope binding, her arms to the armrests, her ankles to the chair legs.  Something stings in her wrist.  It feels like a needle.

A door behind her closes.  Click.  Fluorescent bulbs flicker to life above her and she hisses at the sudden intense blare of light.  The room she is in appears metal.  There are no windows.  The ceiling rises two stories, supported by four great columns, and an interior balcony circles the upper half of the walls, a few doors scattered around the walls opening to the balcony.  There is a metal table in front of her, littered with papers and photographs.  She sees the faces of Aras, Reyes, Aurelia, Todorov, and a woman with a crooked nose and scar.  Her own face is also among the paperwork.

"Ofelia Qian.  Twenty-eight.  Five foot one.  Taiwanese by blood, American by birth.  How fortunate I am to have a fellow American to talk to."

From behind, the sonorous-voiced speaker approaches and sits on the chair opposite.  He is fairly young, long hair a deep indigo color–as natural as the common transgenic banana–making his ivory skin look bleached.  He folds his hands under his chin, delicate fingers and manicured nails.

Ofelia maintains a fierce scowl, but inwardly she cringes in shock.  The bastard son of Kronos–a.k.a. Jupiter–the effeminate face that she had once discarded into the "think about it later" pile is now calmly perusing her with clear blue eyes, the crystalline eyes that has every woman in his life swooning in front of him (Ofelia, like batteries, is not included).

Jupiter smiles and tosses his hair out of his eyes, the cascade of blue shimmering under the artificial lighting.  "I would shake your hand, but you appear to have your hands full."  Ofelia remembers the needle and looks down.  Indeed, her left wrist is connected to an IV bag of clear fluid.  "Don't worry.  It's only parenteral nutrition, enough to keep you alive until I have no more use of you.  And you'll notice the chamberpot below your chair.  Forgive me if I don't wish to release you to go to the bathroom.  You'll remain seated for the rest of your life, which I promise won't be for very long."  He sits a little straighter, basking in the glow of his own cleverness.  He has thought of everything.  Surely the little Asian woman has never faced an inescapable situation like this one.

His expression hardens.  "You assisted in the assassination of Kronos."

"Hell yes I did.  What, do you cry yourself to sleep every night?  Because Mummy isn't there?"  Ofelia awaits the backhand slap, the clout to the jaw, or the nose-breaking punch.  Nothing happens, and she realizes the table is too wide for easy access to her face.  She laughs silently as his face contorts and he sucks in a deep breath to maintain composure.

"I'm not just here for revenge, you know.  You and all these other people have made quite a name for yourselves among the underground."  Jupiter pushes forward Todorov's photo.  "Take Reinald Todorov, big business mogul, owns a third of the local corporations and has major shares in several international businesses.  A good number of the powerful and wealthy would like to see him suffer an unfortunate accident, like his predecessors."

Jupiter leans in closer, the intoxicating scent of passionfruit and Listerine on his breath.  "Every single one of you is wanted dead by somebody, many somebodies in several cases.  Do you know what I'm going to do?  I'm going to take up the challenge.  I'm going to kill all of you, take the reward money, and restart the rebellion my mother was on the cusp of finishing.  And you're going to help me.

"Don't think I'm the bad guy here.  You probably don't understand with your pea-sized brain, but the government as we know it is corrupt and greedy, stained with years of inside wheeling-and-dealing.  It has to go, and it has to be me who does it.  My mother and my grandmother and her mother before her have all been legendary revolutionaries, and I will carry on this noble legacy.

"But I need money.  It's unfortunate that rebellions aren't funded on charity and donations.  But if ridding society of a bunch of no-good, dastardly evil assassins is the answer to my financing, then consider your death very well justified.  You're going to hell anyway, I'm just making it happen sooner.

"I know what you're going to say.  'You'll never get away with it' or 'you're making a mistake' or 'they know I'm gone and they'll come looking for me' or "you'll be sorry.'  Am I right?"

Ofelia smirks.  "Actually, I was going to say, 'go fuck yourself.'  Or a cow.  Or you could dress up as a swan."  Her captor doesn't appear to understand her references, but the point is made.  With a cry of manly rage, he pushes the table over.  It smashes into her face before toppling down to the ground.  Ofelia snorts the blood from her nose, still smirking in self-satisfaction.

Jupiter grabs her chin.  His beautiful face is marred by wrinkles of anger.  "You.  Have ABSOLUTELY NO IDEA what I've had to go through.  Our organization crumbled with my mother's death, and the last of us have been living in the shadows the past three years, our finances lost, our dignity ruined.  I may not be able to afford the best weapons or the latest gadgets, but I will destroy you and I will destroy Aras.  I will have my revenge and I will save all of Toharon from the menace that is our government."

He glares down at her, his piercing sapphire eyes casting all of his fury on the shameless assassin.  It is the very same charismatic glare that awes and intimidates his inferiors.  Jupiter is the One, the people's Savior, and he will win the day for all that is good and glor–

Ofelia spits.  A glob of blood, snot, and saliva splats on his perfect nose.

"Go ahead.  Have your revenge, Jupiter, and end up shit-faced like your mother."

The afternoon of St. Valentine's Day

Aras and Aurelia stumble out of the crochety elevator, catching their breath.  It has been a harrowing trial navigating the back alleys, backtracking several dead ends, and all the while running and running.

"What's that sound?"  Aras looks at Aurelia, and perks his ears.  There is a wretched howling coming from inside the door.  Aurelia fumbles for the keys and they burst in.

Gobshite sits at the glass doors to the balcony, herpa-derping for all his worth.  Reyes is nowhere to be seen and a terrible pungent aroma of baking envelops them as they enter.  A Post-it is plastered onto the coffee table.  Went to hospital.  Friend is hurt.  Hope Aras doesn't mind I borrowed his flowers.  Reyes.

Aurelia shoots Aras a concerned look.  "You don't think whoever tried to kill you might also be after Reyes, do you?"

Aras can only shrug.

"Shit.  Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit."  She grabs her trenchcoat and begins stuffing knives into the pockets.  "You'd better go get your guns, Aras.  I don't want to take any chances going back out there."

"We're going to the hospital, I take it?"

"I just need to know Reyes isn't getting himself into trouble.  You coming with me or not?"

"Of course."


Beep.  Beep.  Beep.  Anna watches the monitor, arms crossed and forced to stand outside the room.  The tiny sliver of window that the curtain failed to cover gives her only a visual of the monitor inside the ward.  Yes, Leon's door had covered them, but not all the way.  A spike of PVC had lodged itself at the base of Reinald's skull, and the surgeons–in Anna's point of view–took their sweet time obtaining CT scans and X-ray imaging before operating.  The operation finished an hour ago, but the doctors still forbade her from entering.

"Anna!"  It is the ridiculous man from last night, now dressed in a bathrobe and hoisting a large package wrapped with pink cellophane.  The balloons and flowers wave merrily to his loping stride.  "Anna, these are for Reinald!  Leon told me what happened last night!"

Anna seizes him by the collar and heaves him against the wall.  "Did you know about the fucking bomb?  Wipe that idiotic smile off your face and explain to me why I shouldn't punch your nose through your goddamn skull!"

"What?  I just did what Leon told me to do.  Put you guys where he marked the floor with tape, push you guys into the closet, and lock the door!  Presto!  He said you guys needed some time toge–"

Anna cuffs him on the ear and drops him on the ground.  "Idiot boy."  Reyes remains seated, rubbing his ear as Aras and Aurelia come running out of the hospital elevator.

"Reyes!"  Aurelia immediately double-checks his ear.  "Are you alright?  Why are you here?"

Anna doesn't recognize the Asian woman, but sees the familiar face beside her.  "Duval, what an unexpected surprise.  This lunatic belong to you?"

"Uh, no, I'm not his legal guardian, if that's what you mean."

"I hope you're here to get him out of my line of fire."

Aras glances at Aurelia.  "Oh, yeah, she's here for Reyes.  Why are you here?" he asks.  "I wouldn't expect to find you stationary in a place where smoking is banned."

"Bah, of course I wouldn't be here.  The police aren't letting me go until he wakes up.  They think I poisoned him.  'Date rape.'  Apparently they found wormwood and an overdose of midazolam in his system."  Anna nods towards the waiting room further down the hall, where four men in uniform sit chatting.  "I'm not in the mood to get arrested or cause a scene, so I might as well wait."

"Wait, what happened to Reinald?"  He finally notices the pink care package, decorated with balloons and his bouquet and smelling of Reyes' cookies.

"Honestly, I don't remember much of it.  He and I ended up at some random house last night, and then it exploded.  Simple."

Aurelia inhales sharply.  "You don't think…Aras…I mean, Aras was just attacked this morning.  Sniper on the roof."

Anna snorts.  "Well, a thumb-sized ball of C-4 doesn't really count as an attack.  It may have been just being in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"Hang on," Aras adds, "our attacker was careless too.  No silencer, a multi-round automatic rather than selective fire, and laser aiming.  No sniper worth his salt would let himself be caught in that conspicuous a situation."

"Oh guys!" Reyes whispers cheerfully.  "There's a girl with blue hair coming towards us.  She doesn't look too happy."

Aurelia chides him.  "Reyes, that's a man.  And he's…carrying a semi-automatic…in the open."

Anna scans the hallway and waiting room.  All eyes are on the approaching stranger, but no one is moving to do anything about it, not even the police.

The beautiful man pauses several feet from them, his waist-long hair fluttering in the absence of a breeze.

"I suggest you don't try to run away.  The police in the waiting room are all my men, and the civilians are my supporters.  Sit nice and quiet and I'll give you a quick death, not that you garbage deserve it.  It's a shame the people I hired didn't quite do away with you."

"You ugly bastard."  Anna reaches for her pistol, when the sound of several handguns cocking behind her forces her to pause.

The blue-haired man smiles, brilliant white teeth sparkling like rhinestones.  "Such distasteful language.  I'm sorry I neglected to introduce myself.  The name is Jupiter.  Perhaps you might know me, Aras Duval.  After all, you're the one who killed Kronos."

Aras is about to reply, but Jupiter holds up a delicate hand.  "Oh no, you don't need to say anything.  Nothing you say will be worth listening to anyway.  I have your partner, FYI.  Miss Qian.  She betrayed very important information about all of you to me."

"What did you do to her?"

"Oh don't worry.  It's nothing you have the stomach for.  You may wish to know that she told me all about your anaphylactic allergy to…RAINBOW POPCORN!"  Jupiter flings a bucket of food-dyed popcorn into Aras' face.

Aras dodges the bucket but is showered with the colorful popcorn.  Nothing happens.

"What?  Why aren't you choking and wheezing?"

Aurelia is struggling to keep a straight face when Reyes cuts in.  "Twelve o'clock.  Five o'clock, six o'clock, seven o'clock, eight o'clock."

"What's he saying?" Jupiter sneers.  "It's four thirty-six right now.  I hope he hasn't just learned to count."

The three of them–Anna, Aurelia, and Aras–share a knowing glance.  BAM BAM BAM!  Two of the policeman behind them fall with a bullet to the head, the other two with a knife instead.  Only Jupiter's graceful reflexes, inherited from his Titan of a mother, saves him from Aras' sharpshooting.

"Go!"  Anna leads the group out from the smoke and down to the entryway.

"You won't get far!"  Jupiter screams in pursuit.  "I have my men surrounding the building!  You can run, and you can hide, but I'll still get you!"

Reyes points to a side door.  "It says 'emergency egress.'"

"We'll take it."  Anna shoots the alarm system and pushes open the door.  "It's possible they haven't gotten all the way around yet."

The way outside is clear, a service route between the hospital and the research facility.

Aras shuts the door behind  them.  "Which way to the parking garage?"

"I've got a better idea."  Anna indicates the yellow cab situated near the entrance of the service route.  The window rolls down and the Asian cabbie sticks his head out, waving frantically.

"Leon!" Reyes rejoices and sprints over, his companions close behind.  Anna slides into shotgun–somehow puffing away at a cigarette all of a sudden–and the other three cram into the backseat.

Anna turns around to those inexperienced with Leon's driving.  "Seatbelts!" she barks, and they scrabble to get themselves buckled.

Jupiter exits the hospital front doors in time to see the yellow cab swerve around the corner.  He swears it must have careened onto the side of the building in order to pull that tight a turn, and it is gone before he can blink.


Reinald opens his eyes.  The sound of gunshots.  Screaming.  He looks to the interior window, but the curtain blocks his view.  The noise dies away quickly, and Reinald attempts to get up.  He feels a vague numbness in his neck, and he can't quite lift his head.  Frustrated, he distracts himself with the random array of speckles on the plaster ceiling.  He remembers the bar, Anna's face, and something about Leon.

The door whirs open.  A gut instinct tells Reinald to close his eyes.  Boot heels click to his bedside.

"Unfortunate accident, indeed," an unfamiliar voice whispers.  The machine beside him beeps softly and Reinald feels an increasing pressure on his wrist.  The beeping stops, and the footsteps return to the door.  "Goodbye, Todorov.  Be glad you'll never meet me."

As soon as he hears the door close, Reinald yanks out the needle.  He reads the label on the fluid bag.  Hydrocodone.  The dispenser machine dial is on maximum output.  He pushes himself up, struggling to keep his head from lolling uselessly to the side.  Even the few seconds of overdose is taking an effect, and Reinald can feel the drowsiness creeping through his mind.  His throat feels dry, and his limbs are painfully weak, but he must get back to….to…for some reason, he thinks of Anna.  Reinald throws the thought out of his mind and slips off the bed.

The evening of St. Valentine's Day

The taxi slows to a human speed and stops in front of an apartment complex on the city outskirts.  Anna wisely takes her time to recover before stepping out.  Aurelia clutches the roof of the car and pulls herself out, not trusting her feet to take any steps, but also wishing to escape the rollercoaster.  She glances at her backseat companions and is none too surprised to see Reyes unaffected and cheerful as ever.  Aras, on the other hand, stumbles out wan and green-faced.  Leon takes a puff as several minutes pass before anyone is willing to speak.

"I think," Aurelia manages, "we need to…rescue…Ofelia."  Aras can only nod.

"If we knew where to go, I'd come along," Anna says.  "I'd like to shank that blue-haired git myself."  Her phone rings.  The caller ID says Reinald Todorov.  "Reinald?"

"I should like to know why someone just tried to kill me.  And how I ended up at the hospital."

"You just answered your own question."

"Not quite.  Someone tried to give me an overdose of painkillers while I was at the hospital."

"Hmph.  Two assassination attempts.  You must be feeling pretty damn important tonight."

"Quite so.  I'm pulling up the security cameras from this afternoon."  Anna can barely make out their voices on the other side of the call, replaying from the conversation with Jupiter earlier.  "Jupiter…the name is somewhat familiar."

"Well, we're going after this Jupiter.  Why don't you make yourself useful and dig up his location?"

"Am doing so.  His voice sounds like that of my overdose assassin."

"And he implied he was responsible for the bomb last night–FYI how you ended up in the hospital."

"So we have a common enemy."

"Don't ask to come along.  I'm not going to drag you to the hospital again if you get into trouble."

"I'm still an infirm, remember?  'Digging' up a location is about the most I can do."

Anna hangs up, and the rest of the gang look at her expectantly.  "As soon as I hear back from Reinald, I say we move out."  She glares daggers at Leon, who inclines his head.  He has had a feeling he would be playing chauffeur for the rest of the night.

Reyes twiddles his thumbs.  "I suppose I ought to go too."  


The waiting game is passed inside Leon's apartment, a rather empty studio on the middle floor.  Anna has claimed the mattress, her phone on one side, her gun on the other.  Leon is brewing extra coffee—Aras nabbed the first pot—and Reyes phones home (Gobshite knows how to turn on speaker).

Aurelia leans against the iron balustrade on the balcony, overlooking a frozen pond.

"Want some coffee?"  Aras appears beside her, blowing steam from an oversized mug.

Aurelia shakes her head.  "If we're going soon, I want to avoid needing potty breaks on the road."

A chilling breeze picks up, and Aras shivers.  Aurelia does not seem bothered by the cold, and Aras decides to tough it out, despite the rapidly dropping temperature of his coffee (a factor correlated with taste).  In fact, he sets the mug down on the snow-covered wicker table and warms his hands in his pockets.  He sneaks a glance at Aurelia.  Her eyes are unfocused, as if she is lost in thought.

Abruptly, Aras places an arm around her.  She doesn't appear to have noticed.

Internally, Aurelia is struggling to pretend she hasn't noticed, but it is hard not to notice the temperature around you has increased by several degrees.

The glass door behind them opens and Anna pokes her head out.  "Break it up, you two.  We've got a job to do."


The rescue team assembles in the living room, mostly standing for lack of chairs.  Leon provides a much worn out map of the city and its surroundings, and Anna utilizes the salt and pepper shakers to indicate locations.

"They're hiding out about ten miles south of where we are.  It's a compound of three buildings.  According to the floor plan, one of them is a small outhouse, the other a shed.  Satellite imaging showed only the center building is guarded, so we can expect that's where Ofelia will be."

Aras counts the number of leftover rounds in his cartridge.  "How well guarded?"

"A force of twenty or so.  Nothing you and I can't handle.  Aurelia and Reyes will take care of the actual rescue part.  I'm forwarding you all the schematics so you can plan your own entrance.  Get in—get out, and then we can worry about taking out 'Bluehair.'"

Midnight of St. Valentine's Day

Ofelia has no idea how long she has been sitting in the dark, her circadian rhythms disoriented.  It feels like a month, but the pain in her abdomen has only just faded to a dull throb, where Jupiter had insistently pressed a drive-stun taser until she gave him "confidential information," indicating she has only been here a few days.

She hears the door open behind her, and shuts her eyes in anticipation of the blinding lights.  Presto!  In spite of her preparation, she can still only squint for the first few minutes.

A hand grabs her hair and wrenches her head back.  Ofelia grits her teeth and gives Jupiter her best murderous scowl.  Jupiter scowls back, but the sapphire eyes flashing with anger look comical from upside-down.  "What's wrong, Jupiter?  Come back to get more shit in your face?"

Jupiter yanks her hair, and Ofelia is forced to change her expression to a tight-lipped wince.  "I see you like pain, little Miss Qian.  Or why else would you give me false information?  I have other methods of giving you pain, and you will tell me the truthful answers this time."

"You're just pissed you actually fell for the rainbow popcorn."

Against all expectation, Jupiter smiles.  "So what if I am?  Today was not a complete waste of time.  I got rid of one of you, and I'm waiting for public confirmation so that I can collect my reward."

Ofelia's pulse races.  "Fine.  I'll ask.  Who?"

"Todorov."  Internally, she sighs in relief.  Jupiter is wearing a terribly smug expression, as if he has just won the lottery and is waiting for you to beg for a share so that he can shoot you down.

"That's nice."

In an instant, her captor is in her face, eye to eye, his wiry hand around her neck.  "You think that was nothing?  You belittle me, Qian, and I don't like to be belittled."  Ofelia head-butts in retaliation, but four days of no exercise and a liquid diet have taken away all her strength, turning it into a light forehead tap.  "What was that?  Even memory foam would hurt more!"  He backs off and indulges in a private chuckle.

Jupiter flicks out the taser.  "Well, that was fun, but we have some serious talking to do.  I'd like to know who this is."  He waves a new photo, an Asian boy in a white collared shirt.

"Hell if I know."

"His name is Ling-chun Chen, for your information.  You have an admirable lack of intelligence."  He jams the taser at her neck and flips the switch.


Leaving Leon to guard his taxi, the four rescuers slither up the grassy hill.  Aurelia and Reyes take off in a separate direction, and Anna indicates the center, two-storey building.

"I'll take care of the guards from the ground.  You get on that outside balcony on the second floor, the stairs on the north wall, and pick them off as they walk by.  As much as I'd like to do the blue-haired dipstick in myself, if you have the opportunity, take it."  Aras nods, and Anna scoots off to approach from behind the shed.

Ofelia's screams puncture the silent night.

Aurelia is sure her heart has leaped into her throat.  It is definitely coming from the central building.  Machete in one hand and throwing knife in the other, Aurelia kicks the door open.

Jupiter snarls at the intrusion and releases Ofelia to face Aurelia.  Behind him, Aurelia spots Reyes scurrying in the shadows of the columns.  She throws her knife straight and true.

Once again, Jupiter's otherworldly reflexes save him: his hair dancing against the laws of physics, Jupiter neatly sidesteps the impeccably aimed dagger.

WHAM!  A crushing force pounds into his back–Reyes has jumped him from behind.  Jupiter twists around before they fall onto the floor and elbows Reyes in the temple.  The bathrobed assassin rolls aside and lands smartly on his feet.  They eye each other, circling counterclockwise.

Aurelia waits until Reyes has got Jupiter's back turned to Ofelia before moving in.  Her machete easily slices through the rope bonds and Ofelia collapses forward.  Her eyelids flutter feebly, and she is barely coherent.  Aurelia shushes her and gently lifts Ofelia onto her back.  Double-checking that Jupiter is still occupied, Aurelia makes for the exit.

Outside, a shootout has broken out.  Anna's bullets whiz silently toward their targets, while the guards pummel her hideout with their automatics, the sparks lighting up the dark compound and the RAT-TAT-TAT crackling the air.  Aurelia trips on two bodies and cuts down a third herself before the taxi comes into view at the base of the hill.

In the meanwhile, Aras ascends the stairs and circles around the balcony.  One of the doors is open and he peers in.  He catches a glimpse of Aurelia stealing out with Ofelia, and witnesses Reyes engage Jupiter in a flying martial arts smackdown, like something out of a Hong Kong kungfu film.  Reyes is clearly stronger and more experienced, but Jupiter's agility and reflexes keep him out of Reyes' effective range.

Anna's voice echoes in his head.  If you have the opportunity, take it.  Aras sets up the AWM, flattens himself on the floor, and takes aim.

"Hey you!"  There's a guard standing right over him, pistol pointed at him.  The light coming out of the interior reveals the guard's youth, and the waterfall of sweat pouring down his face.  His hands are trembling.

Aras takes advantage of the guard's hesitation and brings up his leg, striking the guard in the shin.  The guard falls and knocks down the AWM mount, the rifle skidding to the edge of the interior balcony.

"Merde!"  Aras scrambles forward to retrieve the weapon, but the guard latches onto his ankle and drags him back.  The guard fires his pistol, but the shot goes wide and ricochets off the iron railings.  Aras kicks the gun out of his hand.  It arcs overhead and knocks the rifle off the balcony along with it.  "¡Ay, basura!"

"I don't know what the fuck you're saying, mister, but you better settle down 'fore you get hurt."  Aras scrabbles for his Beretta and flicks the safety off.  The guard tackles him, jerking Aras' right arm to the side and bashing his hand against the exterior balcony railing.  Aras is forced to let go and the Beretta tumbles out of sight.  Thus satisfied, the guard straightens up to deliver the knockout roundhouse.

Aras knees the guard in the solar plexus.  With a surprised grunt, the guard folds into an unmoving heap.  Aras pulls himself up, grimacing at the shooting pain in his right hand.   He heads to the doorway to verify Jupiter hasn't left the building.  He trips on a duffle bag.  The guard must have dropped it when he encountered Aras.  He recognizes the curved shape sticking out of the bag.  It is a compound bow.

A triumphant laugh catches his attention.  Inside, Jupiter has Reyes kneeling in a one-arm stranglehold, standing on his legs and binding his arms with his free hand.  Reyes' complexion is quickly turning the color of Jupiter's hair.

Aras glances down at the fallen rifle, at least a fifteen foot drop.  There is no time to go fetch it.  He automatically picks up the compound bow and notches an arrow, ignoring the screaming protests of his hand.  He aims.  He draws.

But he can't release.  A February gust skates by and he shivers.  Cold.  The winter gusts biting hardest from his vantage point.  What if there is someone behind him?  But he doesn't have time to look back.  But he can't not look back.  A war of emotions swallow his mind.  What should he do?

If you have the opportunity, take it!

I can't!  Not after–  For the third time, the awful memory returns to haunt him.  I'm sorry, Aurelia! he screams in his head.  I'm sorry!

Don't be.  That fleeting moment.  He barely remembers standing at the corner, brushing the scar, but it had happened.  That's what Aurelia had said.  Don't be.  It wasn't your–

My fault, he finishes silently.  Aras rechecks his aim, levels the bow, and closes his eyes.  A quiet peace settles over him.  He releases the arrow, and knows that it flies true.

THWONK!  A feathered shaft blossoms from Jupiter's forehead.  Jupiter stares at it, an expression of disdainful surprise plastered permanently on his handsome features, now stained with red.  Reyes gasps huge lungfuls of air as the rebel leader crumples behind him.

Aras breathes a deep sigh.  Reyes, already fully recovered, waves cheerfully at him.


Leon spots the stragglers Aras and Reyes coming over the hill.  Anna follows soon after, limping badly but keeping a straight posture.  Assuming the day (rather, night) is won, he drives the taxi closer.  Aurelia springs out, embracing Reyes tightly, and–after a moment's hesitation–gives Aras an equally warm welcome.

"Watch the hand," Aras cringes.

"Hmph," Anna grunts, "don't complain unless you've got a damn bullet in your hand."  She plops down on the passenger seat and extracts a slug right above her ankle.  Leon offers the First-Aid kit from the glovebox.

Reyes peers around suspiciously.  "Where is Ofelia?  She hasn't left already?"

"Oh no, she's sleeping."  Aurelia opens the trunk.  Ofelia snoozes comfortably in the spacious taxi trunk, tucked under a fire blanket.


The gang piles into the taxi and Leon chauffeurs each of them back to their own homes.  As he watches Anna enter the door of her apartment building, Leon recalls the events of last night, where Plan B literally blew up in their faces.  It was a disappointing failure, but he still has Plan C.

Three Days Later

Someone knocks on the door.

Anna glares at the door, as if mentally willing the person who dares knock at her door to leave.

Knock, knock.

"Bugger off, or I'll chop your goddamn hands off."

"In which case you would have to open the door first," a voice behind the door replies.

Anna groans.  "Oh fuck, it's Reinald."  She staggers to her feet and limps the few meters to open the door.

Reinald stands slightly contrapposto, giving off the business casual atmosphere, his shirt crisp and smooth, tucked neatly underneath a buttoned vest and banded slacks.  It is a far-cry from his appearance four nights ago among the rubble.

"What do you want?"

"I don't suppose this is from you."  Reinald hands her a sheet of stationery, a waxy paper with an interesting scent.

"Hm, someone managed to copy my handwriting rather well, but no, I don't send notes."

"I didn't think so."

"Then why are you here?"

Reinald shrugs.  "Call it curiosity.  I've never been to your home."

"You already tried that on me.  Don't give me any more bullshit.  I'm not in the mood."

The businessman finds himself observing Anna's bare, muscled shoulders.  She is wearing only a black tank and fleece pants, accentuating her sculpted upper body.

"Are you in the mood for a drink?"

Anna sticks her foot out.  White bandages encircle above and below the ankle.  "Can't go anywhere, see.  But now that you mention it, I did find a bottle of brandy in an ice bucket on the kitchen counter this morning.  That happen to be yours?"

"No."

Anna lifts an eyebrow.  She sighs, and opens the door wider.  "Well, we might as well drink it before the ice melts.  Get in before I change my mind."


Reinald crosses the threshold, and enters her domain.