One year later.

   I'm in my bed, if you could have called it that. It was a slab of leftover foam we found lying outside tied up into an amalgam of blankets and pillows that I called a bed. My father wakes me. "UP UP UP! LET'S GO!" It takes seconds to get to my feet. I'm dressed in a minute. I eat the glorified MRE we called breakfast and step onto the padded flooring in the training room. My father throws me a handgun and tells me, "We're starting with marksmanship today. Three targets. Two seconds." I aim the handgun, Hammond P2014, down our ramshackle gun range and pray I hit an animal we can eat behind the range. My father counts down. "Three, two, one, GO!" 

One, two, three. Three men drop to the ground in front of me as Elena hides behind me. Another draws a weapon of his own and I push Elena behind the wall next to my bedroom's doorway. I blindfire towards him and dive behind the adjacent wall. He tries clearing the corner, but he has to check targets, and I don't. I fire another two rounds into his abdomen, counting the remaining rounds in my head.

"Three left"

Another man enters and eats two rounds from my handgun. Two more rush in. I fire a round into one, and prepare to feel the impact of a .45 from the other man. Except he doesn't fire. He falls to the ground. Elena stood in the doorway to my room, holding an RE-45. The barrel smokes, and she drops it. She rushes over to me, hugging me and crying. "I don- I ca- I-" I shush her and squeeze harder. "We're okay. We're okay. We're okay, Elena." Two more men walk in and threaten us. I'm not sure if any of the weapons on the floor have enough ammunition to take them both down, and there may very well be ten more guys outside. "Okay, what do you want?"

"The girl."

"I can pay you whatever you want. You're not taking her."

"You're in no position to make declarations like that, bud."

"You have no idea what position I'm in."

"Shut your goddamn mouth."

He fires a round into my shoulder, and I collapse from the force. I don't understand anything anymore. Is he taking Elena? I try to speak but nothing comes out. All I manage is Elena's name.

I wake up the next morning, and try to get up. The pain in my shoulder sears through me and forces me back to the ground. I try again, this time prepared for the invisible weight. I pull myself to my feet and walk over to my cell phone, on my nightstand where I left it. I dial. 6-0-5, I stop to remember the rest of the numbers, 4-7-5, 6-9-6-8 I press "Call".

"Hello?"

"I'll have two number nines, a number nine large, a number..."

"I've got you, sir. I'm transferring you."

"Yello?"

"Hey, I've taken a gunshot wound to the shoulder. How much?"

"That's pretty simple. And since I heard what you did at the supermarket, I'll bring it down to 1000 credits."

"Thanks. Where's the pickup?"

"Uhh, the MRVN dealer at Seach and 9th. I'll get some guys there."

"Thanks again."

"Don't mention it. I should probably be paying you."

I wrap the wound, so it doesn't bleed onto my suit, and get dressed. This time I strap my pistol in a holster under my suit. I try my best to secure my door closed, and get into the elevator. A short walk to the pick up point, and I see two men in suits. "Of course it's you guys, right?"

"Last name?"

"Michaels."

"Come with us, sir."

"No problem."

They lead me to a van and I'm blindfolded. A bit of a ride later, and my blindfold is removed and I find myself in a garage. Kevin is standing there, talking to his men. "No need to blindfold him. He's trustworthy." 

"Kev, er, Mr. Cotton, Nice to see you again."

"No need to call me by that name. My men here call me Kevin, too."

"Well, I just wasn't sure. anyway," I take off my suit, and show them the wound. "I need this fixed, and fast, please."

"No problem, Jace. Just lie your clothes and your piece on this table here and lay down over there. We'll administer anesthetics and you'll be back on your feet in no time."

"Alright."

I feel the needle push through my skin and inject the anesthetic. The world slips away and I fall into black. When I wake, Kevin is standing over me with a slightly bloody glove, a bloody scrunched up .45, and a shit eating grin. "Are we done?" he nods, and I get up. I walk over to my phone and transfer the credits to his shell account before pulling on my suit and walking out through the door. "Thank god for modern medicine," I say to myself, on my way out the door. I hail a taxi, enter my address, and I'm there soon enough. I've got my combat gear on and I'm in the process of loading my guns when my phone rings. I answer it, because what else am I supposed to do, and I'm greeted with an ominous sounding and obviously modified voice. "Mr. Michaels, I recommend you don't use those weapons as I know you're planning to. Elena wouldn't like the consequences."

"What are you trying to do, asshole?"

"Not what I'm trying to do, what I'm doing. And what I'm going to have YOU do."

"And if I track this signal, and put a hole in your head?"

"You might be able to, but Elena wouldn't like the consequences of that, either."

"Every day it takes for me to find you is another day I'm going to let you suffer before shooting you."

A chuckle. "I'm sure that's the case, sir."

"You laugh now."

"I'll be laughing for quite a while. Now, about what I'm having you do. A high-ranking IMC official is appearing for a speech in Tinamenn Square tomorrow. You're going to make that place his grave."

"And if I don't?"

"Elena suffers."

"How do I know you're not bluffing?"

"Do you want to find out?"