One Room (part two)

I turn the corner and the wall to my right spits up tiny chunks as white flashes blossom in the air around my head.

No report. Sniper. More angry whispers in the air and I use a dumpster for cover. Gun in my hand, I scan the rooftops across the street finding nothing. Vents kick out thick clots of steam effectively hiding whoever may be watching through a high powered scope.

I poke my head out, more silent shots. Bad move. I'm pinned. Think.

A large woman shuffles past. She makes a good shield. Gun to her head and she screams as I move us sideways down the block towards the subway. The sniper hasn't shot through her yet so it might be a good guy on the other end of that rifle.

I would've shot through her if I was after someone like me.

At the top of the subway entrance I let her go and take the stairs two at a time. The gun's tucked away before I step out in front of a Subway Uni. Young kid, twenties, on the other side of the turnstyle. I could take him out six different ways from where I'm standing, but I'm meeting Mind on Bleeker. An A.P.B would really fuck that up.

Flash my PWCard at the turnstyle sensor and pay my fare this time.

Train's better than a cab with a sniper following. Someone always tracks us down. No wonder we meet so infrequently. But she's worth it.

Can't use my cell 'til I'm topside so the grapevine's useless for three more stops. How many eyes are on me? How many on her? I gotta call.

It's probably too late to warn her already but she's sharp. If I dodged 'em then so did she. At this point Who is almost irrelevant. Japs, Wops, Kykes, Niggas, Russians...fuckin' take your pick. Between the two of us we've killed a dozen of each easy over the last year alone. They use us to keep each other in check then turn their coats inside out once we've served our purpose.

But this Age is Digital and everyone gets copied down somewhere, so a phonecall or two once I'm somewhere safe will chill this shit out.

Six train'll do me right. Two more to Bleeker. Lights flicker in a car that smells like sweat and urine. No one eyes me. Killer's can always blend in New York because we look like club owners.

Black is the new black these days.

Guy next to an old woman reading the paper has a gun on him. Thick jacket but I know what to look for. Not a cop, not a pro, just looks nervous. Chick across from him would be hot if not for the baby stroller, but then that's how she got the stroller in the first place.

Tired black dude with a big cardboard box between his legs. Could be a gift, or a home project, but the way he keeps eyeing people near him tells me its most likely a present. The pale patch around his ring finger makes me wonder if its for his wife or his mistress?
His shoes are too nice for it to be a kid's gift.

Nervous Gun Guy is getting off at my stop. The old woman turns another page and stains her tongue with ink as she licks a finger and folds the top corner.

Train screeches to a halt and I let Nervous Guy go ahead of me.

He goes right, I go left. Quick glance over the shoulder.

No wonder he's nervous. He should've never looked back at me.

We draw down simultaneously but he's untrained and his shot goes wild into a garbage can. I take his left eye out. Someone starts screaming like they're trying to compete with the gunshots.

I'm lost in the crowd topside in seconds. Man in black in Manhattan, yea, thanks for your cooperation sir or ma'am, we'll get this out on the wire right away. I'm sure this'll turn up no more than six or seven hundred suspects.

I dial Mind up soon as I cross the street. Guy in black on a cellphone in Manhattan, keep a look out. Makes me smile.

"Babe, you ok?" She sounds out of breath.

"Yea, yea I'm good. Close one though. Any idea who this time?"

"Not a one." I cross Bleeker towards Black Tom's. "But my money's against corporate."

"Why's that?" She grunts. Something heavy falls in the background.

"Used a human shield. Shots stopped right after. Got away on the train." The cafe is on the corner up ahead.

"Male or female?"

"What?"

"The shield. Male or female?"

"Oh, female."

"Definitely not corporate. Probably Feds or local PD?"

"PD more likely, SWAT maybe. Hey, I'm at the cafe. Gonna grab a table. You gonna be much longer?" I hear her light a cigarette. Means she's done. Does the same thing after sex.

"No, I'm on my way out. See you in a few."

"Take the train." I gesture at the waitress.

"Fuck that babe. Train's are filthy. I'll grab a cab."

"They had snipers, Mind."

"And...? You're still walkin', right?"

I grab a seat at a wrought iron table and order up two real coffees. She likes hers with milk. I prefer creamer.

"Yea yea."

"Then cab it is. Order me a..."

"Already here."

"See you soon." We hang up. I sip and light a smoke. Gotta keep my jacket on much as I don't want to.

Good damn coffee here.