Service's Code _ Code 04 _ Nr. 156459

I snort and throw myself back on the office chair. I roll for a half a meter and look at him, stunned. - Damn it Tears, how can you live this way? You're an analog clock in the digital era -
He approaches curiously to the monitor and puts his Guinness can on the desk - I'm also a sundial, if I lie down naked, but what does that matter? -
I sigh. - With this computer we're directly connected to the Confederation archives! Who installed it for you if you aren't even able to send an email? -
He scratches his temple and gets his beer can.
- A couple of months ago Shelv sent me a some of pencil pushers who connected it to something.-
I spread my arms – Then you already had a computer! -
- Yeah, but I wasn't the one who was using it -
- Well who was it then? -
-My previous roommate, let's just say it was his bequeath. However, you called me here while I was washed up on the couch watching Fist of the North. Now just give me a good reason for not unscrewing the seven-watt light bulb that keeps your brain on -
I sigh – Ok, here's the thing, through the browser, entering the IP_
- Hey, concise! - He barks back
- But it's complicated: I was already being concise -
- You only have 30 seconds of my precious time. Surprise me -
I throw my head back. My hair reaches the floor when I sit, so I try to keep it away from the huge boots this man is wearing, and in the meantime I think. - Ok. From here we can know immediately, before the Confederation contacts an ally, who crosses the border and where -
- Great. Just what we need. And then what? -
- The location of all the allies, through their GPS bracelets- I point to a dot on the monitor. The browser displays a satellite map of the city as seen from above. There are many bright dots and there is a short key on the side. The resolution is so high that one could even zoom in and see a candy wrapper on the sidewalk.
- And then, buckle up... .- I change the map visualization and – TA-DA! -
- Fuck ta-da! What's this shit? - He grunts looking at the dots before him which now only have some numbers on the side and no map below.
- I managed to change the reading code of this map in such a way that it not only tracks the bracelets through their gps, but it also checks how much these are charged, in other words how much magic each bracelet blocks -
- Which means how powerful are the ones carrying them... -
- That's correct! - He understood immediately, that's incredible. - So you are not as stupid as an empty mussel bucket! - I say triumphantly.
He turns very slowly and stares at me. He looks at me in a way that I can't describe, but nobody can save me from the huge shiver that runs down my spine.
- Let's get things straight here Princess: I tease, you don't. -
I nod. I swallow, and change topic.
-However, I can't understand why the Confederation grants you access to all of this highly confidential information. This is unbelievable: just to get inside their Control room, they scan all of you on the way in and on the way out, the only thing that they don't give you is a rectal test! -
He shrugs and finishes his beer, he crushes the can, and throws it in the bin next to the desk.
- Let's just say that Shelv trusts me. He has no reason not to, we've known each other forever -
He burps. - And then – he adds – do I have to remind you that I'm fighting against an asshole that has the Iantor? He can easily get all this same information through the Iantor, so we need to start on an even footing. -
He really is not stupid, every now and then he says things that I hadn't even thought about...
- Right, so how do we proceed? How can we tell which ones are the refugees contacted by Sin from the others? Or where he is...- I ask.
He stares at the monitor, but he isn't looking at the map on it, he's thinking. Then he shakes his head.
- We'll follow my intuition -
- Your intuition? -
He shakes his head again and stirs a bit – There is no precise pattern, but if I know where the refugees are arriving to, I can tell you with certainty wether we have to go or not -
He leaves the studio and goes to the living room. I follow him. - What fucking kind of a working method is that? -
- Idiot, I know that, but apart from my sixth sense, we have nothing on that asshole. For the moment it has worked just fine, whenever I thought he would hit, he did.-
- You just got lucky! -
He sways his head, pondering on it. - Maybe I did, or maybe I just know our enemy very well.-
****
That happened three days ago.
I detected more than sixty raids on the Confederation computer in these past days and Tears' “intuition” didn't sense anything funny in any of them.
As a matter of fact, Shield has never contacted us, not even for a... say, "where the fuck are you?"
I simply keep an eye on the instruments and report any anomaly, while Tears is sprawled on the couch burping and trying to slam dunk the empty beer cans in the bin.
Oh yes, he also cooks. And he does it very well.
Of course I didn't make any comment. I think I risked my life the first time I saw him with an apron on. This is probably because the look on my face gave my thoughts away.
Is it my fault if I have a wide range of facial expressions?
The computer just reported a raid, I think.
I get out of the studio and go to the living room.
I put my hands on the huge steel trash bin that is next to the kitchen counter.
-There are some anomalies between Busto and Castellanza, in the area of Borri avenue - I say.
He doesn't move, he stays there, beer in one hand, sitting on the couch with his feet on the coffee table (or whatever it is, since it is made out of two truck tires) while watching TV.
- What kind of anomalies? - he simply asks.
- An electricity variation in the field dividing the two worlds -
- A storm? - He throws me the empty beer can and I lift the lid, the can bounces off the lid and ends in the bin. - The sky is crystal clear -
I close the bin.
- Great! - He gets up in a flash and I even hear him sing under his breath while he's heading to the table to retrieve his Beretta. He takes the magazine out, checks the bullets, adds a couple of them and then closes and arms it.
- It could only be a coincidence... I'm not sure... - I say
-Nah man, I don't believe in coincidences, this is a new refugee, and I think he's on us – he grins – go and put on your Sunday dress missy, we're off! - He giggles happily while adjusting his gun behind his back.
I make a face giggling back to him.
- And you know what we're going to do afterwards my child? We'll go to Disneyland! -
Is it possible for one person to enjoy killing people so much?
I go to my room, I detach the laptop from its docking station and stick it in my backpack. I also throw in a mobile phone I found a couple of days ago that had been forgotten in a desk drawer. Coming to think of it I also put the GPS Navigator in my pocket.
- C'mon Princess! Are you powdering your nose? -
Some day I'll kill him, and it will be my first murder.
I retrieve my Glock and I put it in my sweatshirt pocket. I got back to the living room just to find him already in the hoist – They're not waiting for us, you know? -
- Got some ammo? - I ask.
He pulls down the hoist gate and we start going down. He sticks his hand into his jacket pocket and throws me a box of bullets. - There -
****
We are in the garage and I am loading my gun as I walk, then I look up and I'm stunned.
Tears throws his bag in the trunk, then gets in and starts the car. - So? Are you waiting for Christmas? MOVE IT! -
I get in. And he instantly takes off.
- When did you get the car fixed? It's new! -
-While you were glued to the computer looking at porn sites. You seem to be in a trance when you're in front of that box – He picks up a shortwave radio, like the ones used by the local police. I had noticed it the first time I got in the car but I hadn't given it much thought.
- Look who's talking, Mr I know all the lines of Fist of the North...- I mumble.
I open the laptop and load the map of the dimensional passage where we're going to. I am pleased to find out that the Confederation has already succeeded in identifying the refugees.
Meanwhile Tears speaks into the radio.
- Hey, Shelv! -
-Shelv? - I say with wide open eyes -You speak directly to the head of the Confederation? Just like that? -
-Don't be rude man! - He looks at me - I'm talking...- and he indicates the radio.
I flicker an eyebrow.
-So Shelv do you copy me? -
The transmitter sizzles a little bit, then I hear the general's voice - Roger Tears. When do you plan to start using a mobile phone instead of this old shortwave transmitter? -
He sniggers. - Nah, then you could have that horrible box removed from your bright and modern crystal desk, and it wouldn't be funny anymore.-
He's driving again with his knees, so that he can keep the radio in one hand and, with the other one, take a cigarette from his jacket. - Listen up – he says into the transmitter. Then he turns to me - How many are there? -
The computer says three.
-Three.-
Back to the transmitter – So those three between Busto and Castellanza, we're taking care of them -
I hear more sizzling – Roger. I'll remove the ally we had already alerted. -
He grins -Was it Mesis? It's in her area -
-I am not compelled to share this information with you -
- Yes, yes, what the fuck. -
-However, I am pleased to see that the Netbook you've been provided with, it's finally been used-
I swear.- Shit – it slips me. So they knew that I was in combing through the archives.
The transmitter works very well, because the General heard me.
-156459 b? -
I look at Tears, he motions to me and hands me the transmitter - Er... Right... Y-yes? -
-I'm about to send you the personal files of the refugees you are going to meet.-
- Ah huh... Okay... Thank you – I manage to panic even when he's not in front of me.
- And don't worry, you did not violate any protocol. You were just using means that we had given to 156459, and that he has never even been able to switch on -
- Fuck you Shelv - Tears speaks loudly in order to be heard by him.
156459? There's something funny. But as I get the files I am too busy to think about it. I open them.
- Did you receive the data? - the transmitter asks.
-Yes, thank you General -
Tears mimics me. Obviously for him I am too formal.
- Great, I'll leave you to your job then – The communication is cut off and I only hear sizzling. Tears gets the transmitter from my hand and puts it away.
- Out of curiosity Tears... -
- Yup – He sounds like a ape when he answers like that. Even when he eats sometimes. Even when he's sleeping on the couch...
In short, it happens often.
- What was your ally code? -
He snorts and lights up a cigarette. - 156459 -
Holy shit – And who am I? Your doppelganger? -
- Relax, it's just a coincidence. They started giving the numbers again adding a b  and you've just got my same numbers -
- That's so cool !! -
-Why do you find it so "cool"? -
I look at him. - I don't know, but it's an interesting coincidence! And then we ended up working together! -
- So what? What's this? Fate has bound us? -
- Yes! -
- Go fuck yourself. Why don't you tell me instead, who the fuck are those three! -
- Ok ok... So... They are three ex-convicts, that's why the files that we have are quite complete, they already had a record. The first one is called... - I stop, he's staring at me. - WHAT? -
I see him waking up from his daydreaming and going back to driving. - Nothing, he says, I'm listening -
- Ok, but what was it? Did something happen? -
He shakes his head and inhales from his cigarette - No, just a fucking deja-vu. Go on.-
I stare at him, I shrug and start again. - The first one is called -
- I don't give a fuck about his name, this is not a date! I want to know if they know how to use weapons, or magic, or both and, if so, what's their specialty! -
- Ok ok... relax... So, it looks like all three already crossed to this dimension a few years ago, and the Confederation sent them back. But, before going back, they managed to stay here for a few months and have learned how to use firearms to defend themselves. As per magic it's not mentioned here. -
- Ok, let's go kick their asses -
He accelerates.
****
I'm looking at the GPS monitor when I realize that we just passed our destination. I put my hand on Tears' right arm and -TEARS TEARS! Wait! -
He stops and removes very slowly, and with a pinch, my hand from his arm – Hands off... Don't be fooled by the length of my hair... -
I massage my hand -The GPS says that they're here! Asshole! -
I see him scanning the area peering doubtfully out of the windows. - Are you sure? - He asks.
I confirm. - They must be on top of that building - the GPS can't be wrong, that is precisely the point related to the coordinates that Shelv gave me.
He stops the car and gets out. I grab my stuff and when I close the door I find him standing before me.
- All that shit stays in the car. -
- The what? -
He gestures vaguely – Your crap! All that electronic stuff! - He points to my backpack with the laptop, the GPS and mobile phone.
-What? - I protest. - Why? -
He snorts. - Damn it... Apparently the faster spermatozoon is not always the smartest... - he inhales - your greatest skill, and perhaps the only one that you have apart from the ability of annoying me, is your twitch and agility, if you carry all this weight I'll have no use for you! -
I open my mouth to say something.
- Shut it! -
I freeze.
- Mouth closed and breathe through your nose! - He points to the car behind me - Now you download everything in there! -
I shoot him a dirty look. But I do as he says.
****
- What the fuck, did they really have to come all the way to the top of a six-story building? - I plod along the fire escape, with Tears right behind me.
- Do you always have to complain? You've been whining since the first floor, just for a couple of flights! - He answers me.
- I am a sedentary person, and must I remind you about the invention of lifts? -
- And I'll remind you about something called gym. Imagine how it would be if you had to carry all that bullshit you wanted to bring along! -
- That bullshit could have told us if, while we were climbing, more refugees appeared from the passage, for all we know they could have doubled! -
- Yeah... thank you for this useless information... -
I'm so busy yelling back at him that I don't notice that I reached the last step. A hail of bullets hits the roof tar coating we've just reached. My hand snaps to the Glock but I see the jumping tar coming closer to me.
I step back, my gun slips and the parapet wall is now behind me.
I jump over it and get down.
I hear Tears scream "SON OF AN UNMARRIED MOTHER!"
More shots. I'm holding onto the railing. On the other side of the parapet. And I can't see anything.
The shooting stops. I hear a shout and then a screaming man flies by me, falling down.
Tears leans over the railing and looks at the refugee crashing to the ground six floors below.
- Shit - I say - Did you see that jump? -
He chuckles - Who do you think threw him? -
He leans against the railing and looks at me hanging over six stories. - Hey, how's the weather down there? -
- Oh very nice. There's a lovely view. FUCK YOU! - I hear him laugh while he grabs the neck of my sweatshirt and pulls me up with only one hand. He freaks me out when he does things like that.
- Now, what the fuck were you doing down there? -
- I was avoiding the bullets! - I say while shaking off the dust.
- You jumped over by yourself? Are you stupid? -
- At that moment it seemed like a great idea.-
He laughs again. At least someone is having fun...- Are you unharmed? - he asks
I check. - Y... Yes... I think my heart is still beating. - I grab my Glock from the ground and when I get up I see him, right behind him.
- TEARS! -
I shoot.
****
While the rookie's bullet brushes my ear, I have no time to wonder if he can distinguish the refugee's head behind me from my own, because I have something else to worry about. Behind the rookie there's another asshole. And the Beretta in my hand is dangerously light. I pull the trigger, but I can already see it with the corner of my eye: the slide is back.
It's empty.
I saw it in the rookie's eyes that he felt him, but he believed that the one behind me was the most dangerous one, and now that refugee is moaning on the ground, probably he got shot in the shoulder.
Fuck it.
The boy freezes, raises his hands, and drops the Glock.
- So, what do you do now, huh? - The standing refugee asks me.
I grin.- Nothing, I wait for you to take him out and then I shoot you. - I get the bullet box from my pocket and pull out the slide – you won't have time to shoot both of us - while reloading, the guy grits his teeth and is thinking about running away, in the meantime I manage put in a bullet and I'm faster than his panic-stricken brain. One bullet is all I need and the slide is already back in the Beretta.
I keep him under fire even if there's the rookie in between.
I tilt my head and grin a little - See, asshole, what you don't know is that my colleague, by accepting these missions, also agreed to die in the attempt of finishing them.-
I see the rookie's eyes open wide - What? Hell, no! -
I ignore him and go on - He's willing to die rather than be taken as an hostage -
- What? Why should I? - He's getting more upset.
- Would you mind shutting up? - I ask, annoyed by all these interruptions.
- Oh sure! You are about to make a hole in my forehead and I also have to shut up! I save your ass and you sacrifice me to the cause! At least pretend to _ -
Not even a second passes by. He elbows him in his ribs, a shot is fired but the rookie ducks, he leans on his right foot and hand on the ground and with his left leg stretched out he spins around and kicks him to the ground.
He retrieves the Glock and stomps on the guy's hand. The refugee's gun falls and he kicks it away.
- What the fuck! I have to do everything by myself! - he swears.
I'm already reloading the gun with the other bullets. The rookie instead randomly rants in my direction while holding the guy at gunpoint.
I finally turn to what was behind me.
-It's never a good idea to reach me from behind - I point the gun to his forehead, he is kneeling and profusely bleeding from his chest.
- Go to hell...- he says.
- Save me a spot. - And I shoot him.
From behind, the rookie's voice is always too high to be bore by my ears. -TEARS! DAMN IT... Do you have to kill everyone you meet? -
I reach him and the other refugee, and he's already holding him at gunpoint - Well, you're still alive - I stand next to the rookie and point my gun too.
- So do you want to get over with him too? - He asks me. He puts his Glock in his pocket and, without having to ask him, he searches him.
- Naaa, I can still hold on for a while -
The rookie finds a note in the guy's inner jacket and hands it over to me without reading it. Great, he immediately understood what he had to do. I shove it in my pocket, I'll read it later.
- So, fucking idiot. I might decide not to explode your brain, and simply throw you back from where you came from, if you tell me how your local inside guy contacted you.-
- I don't know a fuck, my friend – he tells me, he's shitting in his pants.
- Yes, of course, but see, I'm not your friend... Shall we check if your memory comes back by changing the air in your brain? - I stick the Beretta barrel to his forehead.
From the corner of my eye I see the little boy picking the refugee's revolver, an old Colt Python. He seems to know what he's doing, he's very relaxed. I let him be and press the gun again on the guy's face.
-What do you think? Maybe if I dig a tunnel through one of your eyes the information that I need will jump out along with your grey matter...-
With one movement the rookie pulls out the cylinder, he pushes out all the bullets, then he puts one back in and spins the cylinder before putting it back into place. He then aims at the refugee's head.
- How about this. I count to three, and if when I get to three you still haven't told us anything, I shoot. - He says – Maybe you get lucky, maybe you don't... -
He starts to count. And I stare at him.
Is he serious?
-Wait I don't_- but the guy is too slow and the rookie gets to 3.
He pulls the trigger.
BOOM!
Brain matter and blood all over  my shoes.
What the fuck! - I snap. - Bloody hell, what were you thinking about,? -
The guy falls down with a new air intake in the skull and the rookie is almost more baffled the dead refugee.
-... One... one out of six... it was almost statistically impossible! - He stutters and jerks around, he first checks the guy, then looks at the gun, then looks at the guy again, and then throws the revolver on the ground as if it were white hot.
- Sure, sure... - I mumble while trying to remove a slimy and bloody piece from my boot.
- A single one... one fucking chance out of six... it was... just to scare him – he's talking to himself, with his querulous upset voice.
- And to scare him you put in a real bullet? - I pull a leaf from a potted hydrangea nearby and I wipe away the slime from the leather on my boots - Just look at this mess... -
- A single chance... I mean, the very first bullet, how the hell... was it... -
- Call the cleaning team, will you? - I say – what the fuck, what a fucking shitty mess... - I mumble.
He twists the wrist watch to activate the GPS and he's still saying – One over eight... - and I see him walking away.
- Where are you going huh? Where the fuck are you going now? -
He jerks hysterical – I'm going to die jumping in a ravine, okay? -
****
It's just a second.
I see his eyes go wide and point the Beretta towards me, he doesn't have time to yell something at me that I instinctively duck and roll on my side.
I hear a blade hiss at less than an inch from my neck. I roll and I'm already clutching my Glock.
Fuck! I didn't even feel him! It 's the first time that it happens to me!
He is there, kneeling, he probably jumped off the roof of the tallest building on the right. The long black and light duster is still setting down behind him, and he has a katana in his hand. His eyes are two nasty splits and the pupils are tight like those of a cat.
-You have no business here - he hisses.
He starts towards at me. I fire three shots, but I can't hit him because he's too fast and he's already over me. I roll. I hear the sound of the blade steel on the tar roof, one, two, three times. Then a gunshot. I squeeze my eyes, but I'm not the one who got shot and it was Tears' gun. I open my eyes and he's gone.
I only see Tears looking up while he's still pointing the gun in my direction. I look up and I see him too while he's disappearing over the rooftops. He jumps like a gazelle, that asshole!
- Let's go! - Tears is jelling at me and he's already running towards the building fire escape, heading for the Leon parked below.
I get up and run after him - What? -
- Cut your fucking hair if you can't hear me, I said let's go! We must get him! - He practically jumps from one flight to another, when, at the most, I can jump three steps at a time. He gets in the car and, as usual, he leaves before I completely entered inside. And we leave all the tire tread on that street.
As soon as we take off, a hail of bullets pierce the car hood and windshield. We throw ourselves down and hit our heads against each other.
Halos and various Gods get named.
We get back up. Tears has a hard head and I'm a bit dazed. I massage my skull. He doesn't even seem to have felt the blow, I think he must have a head filled with bones and no cavities.
- Fuckfuckfuckfuck! - Tears punches the steering wheel and scans the rooftops instead of keeping an eye on the road. It's night and there're no people around, but nevertheless there are still obstacles and_
- WATCH OUT! - I scream
Tears suddenly swerves, avoids the corner of a house, I end up on the door and then he yells at me – DON'T PISS ME OFF! I've been driving long before your father's dick put you in the oven! -
- Yes, but now, generally speaking, despite the fact that your driving is not of the safest kind, I don't understand why, but it seems to be even worse than usual - I am clinging everywhere, I have the belt on, my feet planted down, I hold on to the handle with my right hand and to the seat with my left one.
- I DON'T SEE HIM ANYMORE! -
With a sharp gesture he throws a punch to what is left of the windshield glass and takes it off, just to throw it out of the car.
This is the first time that I see him so angry.
I bend down and pull the laptop out of my backpack. He glares at me with one eye, he thinks I can't see him but a professional thief sees and hears everything. The computer was on standby and it immediately activates. I hook up the connection through the mobile and access the Confederation program. I uploaded the same communication program Tears has on his computer at home. - WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU ARE YOU DOING WITH THAT THING? HELP ME FIND THAT ASSHOLE! -
- IT'S EXACTLY WHAT I AM DOING !!! -
He shuts up.
That's strange.
I go back to my computer. I even pull out the GPS and I hook it up too.
- That's not possible... -
-What? - Another punch on the steering wheel.
- We're going twenty miles an hour, he must be around here but the GPS doesn't detect him... It's impossible, he's got the Iantor with him, he has to release some kind of energy. It doesn't detect him, the screen only shows the two of us -
- That's obvious, you IDIOT, the Iantor is only a catalyst! Not an device full of power! And he doesn't even have that fucking bracelet anymore – he grabs the GPS from my hands and throws it out of the window.
- AND NOW TELL ME WHERE THE FUCK YOU ARE! - He yells...
To the gps.
I clear my throat and put the computer away.
I'm still bent over when I hear a crash in front of me.

****
One instant, and time broadens.
It's all a flash of frames and noises. The crash of the metal sheet of the hood. A second crash that I don't identify immediately. The katana impaled in the headrest of the passenger seat. The rookie's open wide eyes.
And I see him afterwards. He is holding the Glock.
When I slam on the brakes time starts to go by again.
Sin rolls down the hood. I see blood but I don't see who it belongs to. As soon as I understand that he didn't fall back but simply jumped backwards, I lay a hand on the passenger, but I keep my eyes fixed on my enemy. I try to shake Zendaru, but if he got hit on his forehead with a katana it will be unlikely that he is going to answer me.
Sin gets up. Puts a hand on his neck. Stares at his own blood.
And licks one of his fingers.
He looks at me.
Then he jumps and I lose sight of him.
This time I don't run after him, I turn to the rookie.
- HEY! ZEN! -
I shake his head, I see some blood, but don't understand where the fuck it's coming out from.
- HEY! YOU FILTHY ASSHOLE, DON'T YOU DARE TRY TO DIE ON YOUR SECOND JOB! -
He turns to look at me, that's when I realize that the blood is coming out from his ear. I also see where the blade got in: in the headrest, next to his right ear. It was only a scratch.
He looks at me, white faced, with pupils like needles and wide eyes, then he grabs my collar and shakes me.
-T... Tears! - he's devastated
- What? -
- Do I look like Van Gogh? -

****

It 's almost dawn and I followed all the fight from the top of some nearby buildings. Now I'm looking at them on Borri avenue pushing the Leon: Tears is pushing from behind and the rookie is half in and half out of the driver's side. I can also hear them talk.
- You'll find your feet at the end of your legs, why don't you start using them? -
- I'm using them! It's just this damn car that weighs like a van! -
- You've got a glass backbone, that's your problem! I'm the only one pushing here, don't think I didn't notice it! -
- Have you ever heard of tow trucks? -
-Of course I have! And how would you explain a hood that has more holes than a golf course? Pigeons shitting acid!? -
Not bad that little boy they gave him, he has a good body and fights well, especially for his age.
I smile and shake my head. I was planning to make a trip to Tears' place to check on the new arrival, but judging from the way his car looks, I don't think I'll have to come up with excuses. He'll give me call tomorrow.
Or better, today. In the distance I can see that it's already dawning.