Deus Ex: Human Revolution Shadow’s Showdown 62
The prototype special unit - RK800.
Detroit.
The world had stopped, shrinking to the size of the moment, frozen with terror on Connor's face and calmness in Laura's green eyes. The woman was resigned to the fact that in a moment she would cease to exist. She will leave on her own terms. If there is something on the other side, maybe she will meet Joe and Adam there, and maybe she will see her parents. There will be no pain, no sadness, and no Kratos. Nothingness opened its arms to close her in its embrace after a while. It was inviting, offering everything she wanted. The woman leaned slightly toward the precipice and just then heard a familiar voice.
"Laura, please don't do anything stupid. We'll get through this together," the man tried to stop her.
She managed to regain her balance and take a step in the direction from which the voice was coming. She couldn't explain why she gave up instead of jumping.
"Anything stupid?! Two people close to me and dozens or hundreds I didn't know died because of me," she replied.
The wind ruffled her hair, strands of which lined her cheeks. Tears solidified, burning her skin, and the woman trembled with cold and grief. Down below, sirens could be heard howling like a pack of wolves, lights flashing amidst the falling snow. Connor was increasingly afraid that if the police showed up here right away, Laura would surely jump. He had to do something, and fast.
"Don't you want to avenge Adam and Joe? Are you going to run away again? Are you just going to give up like that?" he tried appealing to her ambition and resolve.
"They don’t care now and so, am I. I'm tired. go home Connor I won't change my mind anyway," she replied. "You think you're the only one who suffers?!" Connor changed his tone of voice to a rougher and firmer one. "The world doesn't spin around you, you know." "Because of me, Kratos attacked the company!"
Connor laughed. "And you believe that?! Do you think he would throw himself to all that hell only for you to fall into his hands? You're ridiculous."
"Then why did all the show happen?" "He wanted to scare you, that's all. Since you can't be his at least he will stalk you..." "As long as I don't jump..." she finished the sentence for him. "Come to me, only slowly. We'll go home, you're very weak and freezing."
The woman took another step forward but immediately took a step back.
"No, Connor. For me, there is no more hope. There is no forgiveness. Let me go. Please." "No!" yelled the man.
She had never heard him be so resolute, never seen him so desperate with his fists clenching nervously again and again and his muscles ready to react.
"I killed a man! I put the barrel of the gun to his forehead and fired! I saw his head explode, and blood coat my body. Now, what do you say?!"
Connor looked at his shoes dirty from the mud and the puddle he was standing in. He closed his eyes. He so badly didn't want her to play this exact card because now he has to show his. Her life is more important than secrets. He has to protect her at all costs.
"You didn't kill him," he replied shortly.
Laura furrowed her eyebrows and looked at him more closely, not understanding what he meant.
"I was in Berlin at the time. I was standing across the street. Lemon-Lime was on fire, the flames were raging and even all the firefighting units in the area couldn't stop it. Sparks were shooting into the air, and you were standing with Damien. A man was kneeling in front of you, begging for mercy. You then said, "Damien, come on, we've already scared him off." Immediately after that..." "I pulled the trigger," she finished for him.
She was completely calm, not at all thinking about who Connor really is or how he knows the events of that evening. She should flood him with questions and doubts. Torpedo him so hard to leave him no way to avoid answers. Meanwhile, she blindly trusted him and took a step toward the man again. She wanted to take another but at the same moment, the police appeared on the roof. It seemed strange to Connor that for such an action they arrived in a group as if they were about to catch some dangerous criminal. They always send a negotiator and a psychologist. They were so loud that they scared Laura, who again increased the distance between her and Connor. She felt the solid ground disappear under her feet. She began falling into a bottomless, dark abyss disturbed by the flashes of police car lights and the pale light of neon signs. Connor turned his head away from the edge of the roof only for a moment, and when he looked again Laura was gone. All he heard was her scream. His reaction was immediate. He sprinted ahead. It was a perfectly coordinated movement, trained by years of practice, almost robotic. There was nothing random about it. Behind his back, he could hear the shouts of police officers dressed in winter polyamide jackets. Confused, they didn't know whether to shoot or wait to see what would happen. RK800 bounced off the concrete edge stretching out in a leap like a cat. He knew he would reveal his next cards too soon, but that wasn't the most important thing now. He arranged his arms along his torso to reduce air resistance and plunged further and further into the abyss. He fell like a meteorite, cutting like a katana blade through the air wheezing in his ears with an unbearable cacophony.
The hitherto narrow line of the street became wider and wider, and more and more details appeared on it. He could see Laura's petite silhouette, inertly falling into the darkness. Connor clenched his teeth, his heart galloping unnaturally fast in his chest. His mind was filled with fear that he would not make it, that he was too slow. The rush of air grew stronger when he decided to use his energy reserves. With this, he managed to catch up with Laura. He stretched out his arms catching her and wrapping her in the strong embrace of his arms. He was very lucky, but most of it was due to his skill. In flight, he turned his back toward the ground to soften his eventual fall if he ran out of energy. "Shield," he issued a command in his mind. "Glide," immediately followed by another. They visibly slowed down, flying now over the heads of onlookers. Some of them were horrified, others were in disbelief. Some drunk looked at the bottle held in his hand. A mother held in her arms an overjoyed child who had just seen a superhero. Connor wanted at all costs to be far enough away from the gathering. He hoped the police wouldn't be looking for them. They landed in one of the side alleys on an old mattress lying among a pile of garbage bags. The man tried to revive the unconscious woman with a few pats on the cheeks but in vain.
"Fuck," he growled, realizing that her blood was everywhere.
RK800 reached into his pants pocket. Fortunately, the phone was working so he sent a message from it.
"Code 7481. Status RED."
Location - Unknown. Time - Unknown.
"Fuck!" thundered the voice. "How could you screw up this task?! You were supposed to protect her, and she’s dying again!" "I couldn't predict..." replied Connor. "You're supposed to be one step ahead! I should gut you for that!" "It won't happen again," said Connor. "In addition, I have to clean up the whole mess after you. The local police are turning Detroit upside down. They ask many questions." "I will bear all the consequences."
The interlocutor wanted to respond but was interrupted before he could open his mouth.
"Everything is ready, we can begin," announced another voice through the loudspeaker.
The two walked down a narrow corridor, bathed in semi-darkness, to a small room towering over the operating room.
"It's good the signal arrived in time. There's a big chance she'll survive," informed the stranger, already somewhat more calmly. "Really, I'm not screwing up anymore." "I know. I'm sorry."
Connor had probably already anticipated every scenario, but not this one. In moments when someone's life was at stake, especially Laura's, the boss was unpredictable. He had also heard many opinions that he could be cruel, but it was hard to believe that when looking at the person standing next to him.
"They had to warm her up first, gradually, so she wouldn't go into shock. Now they're stitching her up again, but it's unclear what will happen next." "Maybe we should let her go?" asked Connor. "Out of the question!" the tone of voice changed again to stern and ruthless. "She has to live."
She was blinded by the white light seeping in under her eyelids. The image swam in her eyes, blurred and returned regaining its shape. Square panels on the ceiling, beige in places as if scratched with white. A wall with a panel hanging on it illuminating X-rays. Several cabinets, and a movable table at the foot of the bed. Soft sheets smelling of disinfectant, a piece of plastic on a finger, tubes going into the nose to allow breathing, a peripheral IV catheter in the right hand with a drip bag on a nearby hanger. This was not Connor's home but a hospital room. How did she get here? The woman turned her head to the right. On the nightstand stood a pitcher of water and a glass, and right next to it a vase with a white and pink magnolia flower. Someone came in and shone a flashlight into her eyes as if the harsh light coming from the ceiling was not enough. He checked the drip bag, then the card hanging on the bed rail, and left. Shortly after another person came in with a quite familiar scent of bergamot, ginger and sage. Laura blinked her eyes wanting the image to come into focus. The grey jacket, it had to be Connor's.
"You're finally awake. I was starting to panic," he said, carefully sitting down on the edge of the bed. "Where am I?" she asked, trying to raise herself to a sitting position. "Lie still. You're in the hospital." "But they will ask questions, after all, the police..." "Everything is fine. When you were unconscious, I took care of all the matters and gave an explanation. As soon as you're released, we'll get back to my place." "How did you accomplish this? After all, I fell off the roof." "You will get answers but after returning. Agreed?" "Agreed," she replied reluctantly.
The next day Connor performed another miracle because Laura was allowed to go home. She was still very weak so other than getting up from bed and getting dressed she doesn't remember anything else. On the one hand, she was not at all worried about this, but on the other hand, it was very strange. The feeling that Connor was hiding more from her than the average person was strong and vivid. Maybe she really shouldn't trust him? When they returned home, he did not bring up the subject of her suicide attempt at all, which awakened even more questions in her mind. Instead, he brought a bowl of hot broth and made sure she ate it.
"Will you finally explain to me what happened on the roof?" her words sounded more like a command than a question or a request.
The man sighed, intertwining the fingers of both hands together, and looked down at his feet. He noticed one of the grey socks was a tad less grey than the other.
"Let's start with the fact that I'm neither a programmer nor a hacker."
Laura furrowed her brow but decided not to interrupt him. Nervous knuckles cracking was apparently a sign that what he wanted to tell her was something difficult for him.
"I am an aug who was taken to work for the police as a prototype special unit. I don't know the details of this project except that I joined voluntarily. Before I left, I had investigated the Damien case."
Berlin 2017.
"Evie hurry up! We have a lot of work to do," Toby shouted from behind the bar. "I'm coming! The customers were terribly inquisitive," the girl excused herself. "Take it to eight. Just come right back with no delay."
Evie looked toward the indicated table. Seated at it was a man with short-cropped dark chocolate-coloured hair with a strand falling unruly on his forehead, which he kept correcting, and it still returned to its original place. He was wearing a black turtleneck sweater and was busy reading the newspaper. The girl approached the table setting a cup of black coffee and a plate with a piece of cherry pie on it.
"I'm sorry you had to wait. The terrible crowd today," she said smiling kindly. "That's okay," the man replied, closing the newspaper and folding it perfectly evenly in half. "For your delicious coffee and pie, it's worth the wait."
His brown gaze fixed on Evie's face. The man reciprocated the smile then raised his cup and inhaled the aroma of the coffee before taking a sip.
"Excellent," he murmured contentedly, setting the cup down on the saucer. He rolled up the sleeves of his sweater to elbow height and wanted to reach for the newspaper, but stopped in mid-motion. "If you would like anything else, I am at your disposal," he said. "Thank you for now, but it's possible I'll have two pieces of pie today," he announced, smiling broadly.
Evie returned to the bar and immediately got another order, so she had no time to think about the strange customer. He, in turn, reminded about himself a quarter of an hour later when he approached the bar. The girl was replacing Toby, who had gone to restock.
"I'll have another piece of cherry pie and green tea, please," he said in a consistently pleasant tone. "Of course, I'm already serving. You could have waited at the table and called me." "A walk hasn't hurt anyone yet," he replied. "Besides, I'm Dale, Dale Cooper," he added extending his hand toward her. “I’m Evie. Just Evie.”
The girl shook it, although his friendly behaviour seemed rather strange to her. Especially after Joe had warned her at least a few times to be careful when dealing with strangers. The man took his order and returned to his table, but left a distinct mark in the girl's mind.
Half an hour later, a monstrous bang of an explosion shook the entire club. The fire spread in the blink of an eye consuming room after room. Smaller explosions shot off fireworks of sparks from time to time. A crowd of terrified guests fell out into the street, and their screams could be heard in the distance. Lamps and square plates fell from the ceiling, raising clouds of dust into the air. Cables sizzling with electricity hung like snakes, and water gushed from broken pipes. Shattered glass and discarded purses, jackets or hats lay on the floor. Soon a thickening cloud of smoke made it hard to see anything. Evie, paralysed with fear, stood in the middle of the main hall, bumped by those fleeing. She didn't know where Joe, Toby or Alex was; she searched for them with her eyes but in vain. Smoke entered her lungs more and more intensely, irritating her eyes and leading to tears. Her gaze moved from point to point more and more nervously. She moved abruptly as if pushed by a premonition, toward the emergency stairs when she suddenly felt a sudden jerk and a robotic hand clenching tightly on her forearm. The first person she thought of was Joe, but her joy was quickly extinguished when she turned her head.
"Get out of here or you'll burn alive," Damien said in a firm tone.
The smoke didn't impress him in the least. His implants filtered the air he breathed, and the model of synthetic eyes he had could not produce tears.
"I have to find Joe!" shrieked the girl, pulling out. "We're leaving."
The grip was so firm that it caused her pain. The man pulled Evie along and soon they were outside. Only now did she hear the unbearable howling of the sirens of the fire department units, ambulances and police. Suddenly the strangest of thoughts nestled in her mind; Did Dale manage to escape?
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