Saturday, April 13, 2013

Spanner 22.6: The Naked Killers

...from previous

Chaos Angel Spanner — Chapter 22: There Is No Law
Part 6: The Naked Killers (Final Revision)

copco seattle. The executive helicopter with the COPCO logo lands on the roof. Armed and armoured bodyguards dressed MIB rush out, followed by the core company executives and finally company CEO Brendan Sparks. Jack Becket meets him and salutes. “What is the meaning of this, Becket?”

“Your extra hires just destroyed my section!”

“Your hires!”

“Your orders!”

Suddenly a hard Repulse knocks the one-eyed man back; Desiree uncloaks between him and the CEO, her still nude body crackling with electricity. The bodyguards pull their guns on her. Sparks takes out two thirty-shot Berettas and shoots at her screaming. Repulsed bullets send the bodyguards into a death ballet around him. At last he runs out of bullets. He throws the pistols to either side and prepares to fight.

She slips into his arms, wraps him up in hers, plants her lips onto his; he tries to struggle out, but she's surprisingly strong for a woman — a million volts escape from her body into his, he twitches and smokes, his clothes catch fire, he goes dead still, the once living body now carbonized and crumbling in her arms—

Jack runs away from his deadly cousin as fast as he can in a panic. He swears he can hear her laugh.
ABCNN: COPCO CEO Brendan Sparks has just been assassinated!
QVCBS: The rogue superheroine Livewire electrocuted him in the nude!
ESPNBC: We have exclusive video!
pioneer square. Oliver tries to slash his way through strikers, terrorist, Syndicates, and whores with his shovel. Civilians scramble out of his way. Terrorists and gangsters shoot; he slings his shovel over his shoulder, whips out his twin pistols, and shoots back like the Pistol Knight he is; the attackers flee his wrath.

He walks through the chaos toward the rendezvous. He mutters, “What the fuck does that bitch want?” He does not see a single COPCO agent the whole way; any roboagents are already scrap. He passes the burning wreck of a USPF mech. “Flyboys. Hmph.”

The rendezvous is in a back alley. Figures. He walks in—

and is confronted by cameras, the severed heads of four CUNT militants, ten shrunken heads once attached to the body of Bunny Strakeljahn—

and the girl with the violet eyes, standing nude among them wearing Honky-gangsterskin fighting boots and gloves and a kunoichi facemask black as her hair which he can yet see her smile through. Her naked katana has already tasted blood.

“Leila.”

Her smile disappears. “No.”

downtown bremerton. The bag comes off her head. Her hat is missing. She discovers herself in not some torture room or prison camp, but in the lobby of the forty-story skyscraper Roger Steele Becket built as the headquarters of Dictel Corporation. Standing before her superheroically, framed by the combined Dictel circle-D and Yoyodyne pyramid logos, dominating the room like a living god yet looking every bit his eighty-one years, the late King’s eldest son: Prince William Richard Astor Cromwell-Becket of Dictel, Incorporated: Duke of Acadia, President of the World Bank, Chairman of the United Corporations, Chairman Emeritus of Dictel Corporation and Yoyodyne Defense Systems, Grand Master of the Illuminati and of the Dragon Court, the Scarab eighth of his lineage. The World Patriarch his gold-laced black business suit like a High Templar mantle, the Sign of the Dollar sparkling on his royal-purple tie, purple-lined royal cape fluttering in the artificial wind. An unkempt leonine silver mane crowns the weathered yet still powerful face. Standing to either side of him: his teenage grandniece Princess Deborah Becket in her black-and-silver Bangor High School sailor-suit girl’s uniform and armed with sniper rifle and two holstered automatic pistols, and the Intellectual Property Defender named Roland Leggett; around them, Dictel Security agents pointing their pistols at her. Uncle and niece bear the Dragonite signet. Lord Richard Becket directs a hard piercing stare at her with those cold blue eyes. He smiles with satisfaction at the spunky defiance of his catch, this nudefighter in fighting stance, so contemptuous of costume. At last, he speaks. “We meet at last... Shira Thomas.”

She keeps her eyes on him unblinking. Her expression shifts into that look. “Just so you know, I’m not what you expect.”

“Your famous misdirections.”

“Plan Z,” says Debbie. He shushes her; she turns away in shame.

“So you defy me, and still consider yourself a hero? You have no idea what a hero is. Allow me to educate you.” His triumphant smile reveals his sharp white teeth.

Amanda: Look! CPMC’s stock price is actually rising!
Financial Analyst: Engaged investors, including President Goldman Sachs & Company, are showing their solidarity by boosting CPMC stock, even as the now headless COPCO’s stock price collapses.
Field Reporter: But the strikers still refuse to return to work until CPMC’s removed from office!
Amanda: This is not good.
interstate 5. The sound of Viking metal announces their presence. Corrupt trucking companies transport KCUF’s new sound cannons in a convoy up the expressway. Soon they will reach the city to fulfill their purpose, and the battle will be joined.
debBot: What a Man! So vicious! ♥
daveBot: And she’s too hot to handle! ♥
Both: And one of them dies tonight!
daveBot: It’s about to begin!
debBot: It’s gonna get bloody! ♫
pioneer square. “So you’re the naked killer,” snarls Oliver Thorwald, Pistol Knight.

“I’m here to kill you,” says the naked killer before him, the cruel young beauty who has no name. “It’s your way of divorce.”

“You can’t kill me. You’re only a girl.”

“You’ve still got backup. I let my clones die so I could savor nothingness and the fear of death.”

They stare at each other. The cameras stare at them. The entranced television audience stare through the cameras at this unwilling couple, Corporate warrior and nameless rebel princess, determined to break up by duel to the death.

He spins his shovel. She positions her katana. They care only about killing each other. Rage supercharges his blood with superhuman enough strength to smash holes in the walls with his bare fist. She is utterly calm, yet her desire to kill him is so pure that it charges her body with erotic energy so intense it extinguishes any remaining hatred. They take no notice of the thickening cloud of tear gas. They care only about the duel.

He holds his shovel like a boar-slaying mighty spear and charges her screaming. It begins.

dictel tower. She defiantly fixes the Cartel Chairman with that look. “I see you're pleased with yourself.”

Richard Becket studies the muscular lithe body: such animal grace, such defiance. “You certainly are different from the others, Shira Thomas.”

She continues to regard him warily. “I’m not a helpless victim dying for your sovereign will and pleasure.”

He laughs. “What spunk! You are truly a heroine worthy of being conquered by heroes.”

Her smile disappears. “A hero defeated is a hero destroyed. Remember Barton Green?”

“Ah, yes. So is a hero who betrays his nature.”

“The strike.”

He puffs his cigar and dramatically flourishes it. “A futile little protest of unheroic little people in denial. Are they friends of yours? They deny that man is nothing but a waystation toward something far greater — the birth of the gods! We are here, our destiny is at hand, to conquer and rule the infinite kingdom of space! They have served their purpose. Their time is long past over. And yet you have pity for them? Come on, Miss Thomas. You’re above all that.”

She sighs. “So petty, these heroic Egos. The ancients had you pegged. You gods haven’t changed a bit except for the costumes. The ‘little monkeys’ are evolving right past you, and you can’t handle it.”

“So you’re determined to die with them? I shall help you.”

“You assume.” That look returns. “Speaking of which, I’m not Shira.”

“Hmph! Another little misdirection I see through.”

“She’s in Seattle. Trace her.” The cockeyed smirk grows into a beautiful grin.

He begins his Trace smugly confident. His face takes a puzzled look — realization drains his face of blood, his eyes go wide with horror — “You! You were dead! I killed you myself!” He reaches out; his staff of power flies into his hand.

The atmosphere begins to distort. Leggett raises his Colt at Kira Thomas and fires. Debbie screams.
daveBot: The divorce is on!
debBot: A real Corporate divorce, way gruesome and hella sexy! ♥
daveBot: May the best spouse...
Both: ...survive!
pioneer square. Shovel versus sword: he thrusts and slashes; she parries and evades with speed and stealth. He tries to force the shovel blade right into her head; she liquidly shifts position, catches the handle, lets the blade come down so hard it sparks on the concrete, then shifts position again so he spears the hard wall with his head. He rolls, sprawls, grabs his head; she kicks his testicles hard enough to crush them. He convulses and screams in pain.

Suddenly, he pops back up, roars and flails like a rabid beast, charges her once more. Before he can bring the shovel down, she throws herself into him with a knee blow that crushes several ribs and punctures a lung. He spins uncontrollably till he hits a wall face first, letting his shovel drop this time. He ignores the pain. He rolls along the wall. He tastes his own blood. She is looking at him, holding the katana in her left hand, gesturing him to come with her right.

He rolls forward, picks up the shovel, leaps to his feet bringing it down toward her head—

she slices it in two, diagonally. The shovel head clatters uselessly away. He throws the headless handle away.

He whips out his holstered Colts — he shoots—

but she is gone.
Amanda: The streets are full of protesters again!
Field Reporter: They’re holding signs and chanting slogans demanding the ouster of CPMC!
Financial Analyst: This is turning into a major public relations disaster for CPMC.
Amanda: This is not good.
dictel tower. Lord Becket chants in ancient Egyptian to build up the power of his staff. Kira projects a reality distortion field powerful enough to change the path of ordinary projectiles, but Leggett’s slow bullet takes its slow implacable path toward her. Debbie remembers Shira’s sweet kiss that melted her heart. Kira is her twin sister.

She shoots the bullet out of the air. Leggett screams in rage.

They slip behind the Scarab to duel. He whips out both pistols and empties their clips. She tosses aside her rifle, whips out both her pistols, and shoots down every slow bullet.

Then Lord Becket unleashes his blast. Debbie, Leggett, and all the bodyguards run for their lives. Kira’s field deflects the blast into the tower’s supports to sever them — then she vanishes laughing, and the Scarab screams.

black tower. Half-transformed, Brinkman signals his readiness to tear Will Becket apart. “So you’re gonna nuke your own realm if the mudbloods keep getting uppity? I’ll be ruined! My stock will be worthless!

Will calmly smokes his cigar. “What foolishness are you getting at this time, cousin?”

“I’ve entered negotiations with Chinese Corporatist Party (Holdings) Limited to acquire CPMC.”

A gun cocks. Everson screams, “Walter! Are you insane?

“You too, Luke? If either of you destroy the value of my company’s property by, well, destroying the property, you’ll be starting an international incident. Do you still want to start a nuclear war with China? Do you?

“Very well, then,” says Will. “I’ll see you when you’re in Chinese debt slavery.” He tries to leave, but Everson blocks him. “Scofield wants you dead, Shepherd. From which I deduce, you in turn killed Tremayne, not ‘Rebel Styles’ but you.”

Everson grimaces. “He was corrupt! I had righteous replacements for the others lined up. I had a plan to submit the Consortium under my dominion! I was reclaiming this commonist hell for Jesus America! But then ‘Rebel Styles’ turned real! Don’t tell me she’s not behind this!”

“And now she’s not. One cannot help but admire a Player who withdraws from the game and still wins. And now, if you’ll excuse me...” The elevator opens for him. He walks past Everson into it. The sliding doors close, and he is gone.

pioneer square. Oliver hunts down the girl with no name. Strikers flee. Terrorists attack and get shovel-Slashed for their trouble. Ecstatic serial-killer fangirls beg him to kill them; his shovel grants them their wish. But today he finds no joy in his favorite former pleasure, only cruel necessity.

“Leila!” he cries out. No answer, not even a laugh. He begins to fear. He tries to taunt. In rage he howls: “Leeeeeee-laaaa!” No mocking laugh, no offended groan, not even a breath. “Come back and die, you chickenshit traitor bitch! Leela Leela Leela Leee-laaa!” He thinks she’s skipped out on their duel. Not once does he notice she’s been stalking him closely the whole time.

Someone impales him through the chest from behind. He looks down — his own broken shovel handle?

Malicious glee in those beautiful violet eyes. She purrs, “Shouldn’t have thrown it away, Ollie. What you leave behind can come back to bite.” She pulls the shovel handle out of his chest.

His vision blurs. He knows his consciousness will soon blink out. He sees the cameras staring at him as he spins in terminal vertigo. The last thing Oliver Patrick Thorwald of Biotron, Incorporated, Pistol Knight, says before he falls to the pavement dead: “Fuck... you...”

downtown bremerton. Torn at the root by the Scarab’s blast, the Dictel Tower begins to tilt as the lobby is obliterated in a deafening fireball. Observers in its line of sight watch paralyzed with trepidation. All traffic and pedestrians flee the area in panic. Air-raid sirens on the naval base command evacuation.

For an uncomfortable time the dying giant leans like the tower of Pisa. Then its fall begins, at first slowly. Its death creates an abstract symphony of bending snapping metal and shattering glass. Its body disintegrates as it descends.

Bremerton’s one true skyscraper, the brainchild of Roger Becket, crashes into the base, demolishing two factories, raising a massive cloud of dust that consumes all downtown and the base. Like its creator, the colossus has fallen. And the only thing Richard Becket can hear is a woman returned from the dead, her laugh of triumph filling the whole world, the laugh of Kira Amanda Thomas.
Amanda: ESPNBC News has just received official word. Cascadian labor representatives have confirmed that the general strike now paralyzing Seattle will indeed be expanded statewide.
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Copyright © 2013 Dennis Jernberg. Some rights reserved.
Creative Commons License

[Revision 4 Final, 4/13/13: The original title sequence (the Oliver vs. nameless girl duel) heavily revised and condensed with a new ending for Final Revision continuity; new scenes added. Original R2 title: “The Naked Killer” (singular).]

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