PillBug_NA

(Part 2)

"Millions of spiritual Creatures walk the Earth
Unseen, both when we wake, and when we sleep."
- John Milton, Paradise Lost

The lights flickered in the warehouse as the tram rolled overhead.

Capparzo tossed the empty Sky Raider helmet aside and drew a pistol from his pressed white jacket. Following his lead, his cronies steeled themselves and readied their weapons. Benetti just stood there shivering.

"He's gotta be here somewhere...get ready boys."

Cautious eyes scanned the warehouse, darting to every shadow. Beads of sweat began to roll down furrowed brows as teach clenched in tense anticipation. Quietly, a shrinking man stood back, muttering what could only be desperate prayers to himself.

"Benetti, will you shut up?" was the request as the hammer of a submachine gun was pulled back with a flat clank

The mumbles continued, anxious pleas to the apprehension that seeped through the stale air of the warehouse.

"Damnit, Benetti!!" the gunner grunted as he whirled around. "Will you shut....where did he go?"

Benetti's sudden abscense left more than a vacuum in the conversation. The huge room grew eerily silent. The burly suit holding the .45 asked the most basic question anyone could think of at that moment.

"What the hell is goin' on?"

The only answer was a shriek echoing through the warehouse, dancing from the walls to the rafters, daring ears to find its source.

Capparzo arched an eyebrow.

"I guess we don't have to worry about Benetti anymore."

The slow tension of the air was accelerated with the crack of a rifle. The burly suit flew backwards and skidded across the floor, coming to rest at a stack of crates. The gunner turned to his fallen comrade.

"Ricco?"

The limp form offered no response. Capparzo's eyes darted around the pitched beams of the ceiling, finally coming to rest on a pale set of eyes glaring back at him.

"THERE!! SHOOT!!"

A shower of sparks flickered as bullets bounced across the heavy steel beam, trying with all effort to catch the hazy figure darting through the pipes and braces. Without warning the sprinting silhouette lept from the ceiling, directly in to the three men. Capparzo and a suit spun to meet their opponent but were only greeted by the muzzle flare of a shot gun, sending them sprawling back. Before the third man could level his gun, a glowing fist smashed in to his face, sending him flying in to an open trailer dock. The shadowy assailant was not far behind as the trailer door slammed shut behind the two.

Recovering from the initial stun, Capparzo and his remaining cronie pulled themselves to their feet, despite the incredible stinging in their chests. The underboss pulled his hand away from his ribs and gawked at it for a moment.

"What the? No blood...but.."

His thought was cut off as the docked trailer shook once, then twice, then paused. The two men studied the door warily. The silence was shattered as machine gun bullets began perforating the trailer door. The two men threw themselves to the ground to avoid the hail of gunfire. Then silence again.

Capparzo hoisted his last thug up and pushed him forward.

"Go check it out."

The capo swallowed hard and pulled the slide back on his sawed-off. He crept towards the dock as the last wisps of gun smoke crawled from the field of bullet holes. Without warning, the shadowy assailant rushed through the still closed door, passing intangibly through the bullet-riddled panels as well as the body of the mobster.

The fog of a chilled breath escaped the capo's mouth as his eyes widened. He spun to meet his attacker and found only the barrel of a rifle. The confrontation was brief.

Capparzo, in the meantime, was not idle. Between the crates he found a discarded tommy gun, turning in time to see his last thug fall, he opened fire on the hazy figure. Shaken by the burst, his opponent whirled to lock his glowing eyes on Capparzo for a split second before vanishing.

"Damn....." Capparzo muttered.

He crossed the distance to his fallen minions, examining the holes his attack left on the wall. His fingers found a pale spore that evaporated to mist at his touch.

"I don't know what the hell you are...but you can be hurt." Capparzo observed with a grin. "You hear me, Ghoulie!?! I've crushed bigger heroes than you!"

The response echoed through the warehouse in a hollow tone.

"Make no mistake Anton Capparzo...I am no hero."

The Underboss spun and opened fire in to the rafters, sending a shower of sparks at every fleeting shadow.

"I don't care what you are, freak! I'm takin' you down!"

The flurry of bullets continued down the wall and through the crates and containers, chasing any darkness that dared to move. The storm of the tommy gun was swiftly interrupted by the report of another rifle.
Struck in the shoulder, Capparzo was half spun and dropped to his knee, his firearm skidding across the floor.

He hoisted himself to his feet, only to be met by the strike of a glowing fist. He sailed backwards, coming to light painfully on a stack of boxes. As the stun of the blow wore off, he looked up to clearly see his attacker for the first time.

The tall figure stood with his shoulders squared as the glow faded from his pale fists. His face shadowed by the brim of his black helmet, only a pair of eerie white eyes broke through. Holsters and pouches adorned his belt, his boots struck dull footfalls as he walked towards Capparzo, pausing to kick the lost tommy gun away. The details of the room behind where obscured in the translucency of his black uniform and on his chest, a ghostly white skull and crossbones cracked a wry grin at his target.

"It's over." His haunting eyes narrowed.

Capparzo's face flushed with rage. Bursting from the stack of debris, the Underboss hurled his bear-like figure across the room. As the distance between the two closed, the spectral Soldier brought his rifle to bare.

Capparzo screamed as he brought his fist up, hurtling towards his target. His momentum carried him forward, even after the crack of the shot. The bulky man rolled to stop just short of the Soldier's feet. As he looked down, his weapon evaporated in his hands, the etheral residue swirling around his arms.

The Soldier turned, walking away from the fallen mafioso. A cold draft blew through the room, scattered bills floated across the floor, catching momentarily in the creases of Capparzo's suit.

The warehouse was silent again.

(little cross-post from Virtue. Warning, does contain violence)

Part 1

"There is no den in the world to hide a rogue....Commit a crime, and the earth is made of glass."
- Ralph Waldo Emerson, Essays

The worst things always grow in damp, dark places. Independence Port was an ideal environment for such things. Among the cargo of the warehouses near the docks was a healthy stock of corruption and violence. The Capparzo Export Company was no different. Inside the dimly lit building, men who wrote their own rules on the lives of others milled about, the sound of greed stacking upon avarice echoed crisply as the night's ill-gotten gains were tallied. The near-anachronistic guard of hats and ties watched the doors and windows as the ivory suited underboss watched the money stack up on the table. His view only interrupted by the flickering of the lights as the tram rolled over the building.

"Where the hell are Benetti and his morons? He was supposed to be done meeting with those Raiders an hour ago." he inquired of his staff.

He was answered only with awkward quiet. Then a voice cracked the silence.

"Maybe the Sky Jockeys turned on him?"

Red-knuckled, callused hands wrapped around the throat that produced the response. The eyes of the underboss indicated that he was looking for an answer, not speculation.

"Are you saying those cone-heads aren't afraid of me? Are you saying they could take my men? Are you implying...that I can't run my operation?"

The capo's face struggling face shook in a fearful "no".

"I didn't think so......so none of you idiots knows where Bennetti is?"

The answer was simple, Benetti was running. Marco Bennetti was running for his life.

He'd never ran faster in his life, as far as he was concerned. In was almost involuntary, he doubted he could stop running even if he wanted to. His footsteps echoed left and right off the cargo containers, his heavy breath caught in his chest. Every shadow jumped out at his eyes, every sound made his head turn. Where was he? Was he still following? His mind raced his heart in sprint of fear.

As he rounded the last corner, he threw his body against the warehouse door. He pounded frantically, wanting nothing more greatly than entry.

"It's Marco! Let me in, man! Jesus, let me in!!"

Benetti tumbled through the door as it opened, his body caught by two men standing post.

"Marco, what happened? Where's the others?"

"He got 'em...he got all of 'em."

"What do you mean? Who got 'em?"

"All of em, Eddie and Frank...even Eckhart and the Raiders..he got all of 'em."

One of the large suits hoisted Benetti up by the armpits.

"Who got 'em, Marco?"

"The....the soldier got 'em."

The door slammed shut and bolted with a clank as the face of the other guard grimmaced.

"Get him back to Mr. Capparzo."

Fear, apparently, was Marco Benetti's companion tonight. He sat in creaking wooden chair, shivering as Capparzo stared him down in the dim light. Behind the massive man in white stood a trio of guns and muscle. He really wasn't sure who to be more afraid of, so his mind settled for slipping into a state of absolute terror.

"This was a simple deal, Bentti." the Underboss observed cooly. "You were supposed to find out what the mercs needed from the aerotech shipment we aquired and determine a reasonable payment for the goods. What went wrong?"

Benetti's voice was still hiding in his throat. He stuttered and blinked before an answer could gather the courage to come out.

"Eckhart was bein' a mook, he wouldn't go over 500, so I was gettin' ready to tell him off. I figured the Column would be wantin' some of that stuff too."

"That sounds like a perfectly reasonable record of events, Benetti. I asked you to tell me what went wrong."

Capparzo clamped his hand on Benetti's shaking shoulder and squeezed until something made a cracking sound, to accentuate his need for information.

"One..one of the Raiders went down first...one of those engineers. We didn't even hear the shot, we just...just saw him fall over the edge of the dock." Benetti swallowed heavily. "Then..we heard the machine gun go off, so we scattered. Eddie..hit the ground behind me. The Raiders started shooting back, but just when we thought we'd found him, bullets came from some other direction. He was all over the place."

Benetti's hands began trembling. Capparzo arched an eyebrow as he watched his employee turn pale.

"We split up inbetween the crates, but I think that's what he wanted us to do. It..it didn't even take five minutes...the next thing I knew, it was just me and Eckhart. He fired off in ten different directions before making a run for it....I saw him running to the end of the dock..and then he was gone."

"Gone?"

"Gone...into thin air. Like something just...yanked him somewhere else. Then I heard the scream." Benetti's breath caught in his throat. "I turned to run the other direction, and that's when I saw him standing there.....I could barely see him.....except that skull...on his chest...it shown like a light."

"Who did you see?" Capparzo inquired gruffly.

"I saw the Phantom Soldier."

"You're telling me one man took out ten heavily armed individuals in less than five minutes?" Capparzo's eyes narrowed with each word.

"He ain't no man, Mr. Capparzo.....I don't know what he is...but he ain't no man." Benetti spoke in a choaking voice.

"Did he say anything to you?"

"He told me to run..."

"So you ran back here? You lead him back here?"

The back of Capparzo's hand sent Benetti sailing out of the chair and against the wall.

"You IDIOT!" Capparzo screamed. "This weirdo has been leaning on us for months and you lead him right back here!?!"

Capparzo grabbed the frightened capo and threw him into a stack of pallets. Once the noise subsided, the men in the room became aware of an entirely different set of sounds. Gunfire and voices.

Capparzo rushed out the door, pistol drawn. His three lieutenants followed, trailed lastly by the shivering Benetti. What they stepped in to was a quite, empty warehouse. Fedora's and guns lay on the floor, money wisped past their feet from the overturned cash boxes.

"He's here....oh god...he's here." Benetti quietly stuttered.

"Shut up." Capparzo demanded.

They walked out in to the middle of the warehouse. Nothing. The doors were still locked, the windows still barred. The lights flickered as tram rolled overhead. The rattle of the car was followed by sharp, hollow clank on the floor behind them. Each man involuntarily jumped. Caparzzo turned to the source of the sound. He walked to the smooth, reflective object and picked it up from the floor. A Sky Raider helmet. He turned it over, looking inside.

"Lieutenant Eckhart...."

"Oh no......no man..." Benetti whispered.

[ QUOTE ]
I was wandering 'round the Burning Man web site and found a pic of Pos and a girlfriend (?) from 2004.

the pic

That armor sure must have been hot during the day, Pos!

[/ QUOTE ]

Why is he holding the frisbee right there....and what's making it glow like that....