The Modern Ronin – An Unwanted Finding

The door to the warehouse was kicked open and two weapons were drawn. Lahav moved first and Iris behind him. Both of them covered a wide arc waiting for a target but there was nothing left to shoot. On the floor in front of them, almost at the door, one man was lying, holding a bag in one hand and a gun in the other. His back was red and full of holes and he was face down in a pool of his own blood. Further into the center of the structure were four street-racing tuners, slick and shining. Between and behind them, littered around them were at least a dozen bodies if not more. It was hard to tell for the only illumination came from the cars’ headlights and the floor was sticky with blood. Brown wrapped bricks of a kind were visible out of the open trunks of two of the cars. Death has already done his work but his smell lingered with intensity.
Lahav pulled up his face mask to cover his nose and noticed Iris only sniffed slightly and snorted shortly. She must have smelled it plenty of times before, he thought. He stowed his piece away and took out a torch while Iris still held her sidearm with care. They went over the bodies, checking them one by one, turning them over gently if the need arose. Every body was dressed in casual street wear; Lahav recognized some Sallow and some Latent gang signs. Each of them was riddled with holes and the cars also suffered their fair share.
Why did so many have to die? He thought to himself. What could possibly have been that important?
He went to the back of one of the cars and took out a brown brick. “Is this what I think it is?” He raised his head to check on Iris and so her standing still, her foot on some gang member’s chest and her eyes staring down. “Did you find–“ He started to ask but was struck silent by Iris’ single syllable word.
“Damn…” She said with a sigh and then looked up at him.
He ran up to her, checking his pockets for his pair of shades. She just reached into her inside jacket pocket and pulled out the small projector. The last image stored flickered to life on the wing of the closest vehicle. The shining blue finish reflected a strange image but it was identical to the man, to the kid, at their feet. His eyes were wide open and a look of surprise was smeared on his face. An Uzi III was in his open hand and three holes pierced his torso in an upwards pattern: kidney, lung, heart.
“It’s him, Lahav. We’re too late,” Iris said and stared into her partner’s uncovered dark blue eyes.
Lahav’s hands stopped their search but were not lowered.
“What do you want to tell his mother? She’s been hoping for him all this time.”
Lahav placed his hand on Iris’ forcing her to lower the projection. She turned it off.
“We tell her nothing,” He said. “We tell her we couldn’t find him. Better leave her with the hope and not tell her what really happened.” He crouched and closed the boy’s open eyes then walked passed Iris.
“We’ll have to give her a refund,” He continued.
“A what?!” She almost shouted. He turned back to her, not making another move, and focused those dark blue eyes into her. Those eyes that always looked like a calm sea were now as furious as a typhoon. They both kept silent and walked on.
On the way out, Iris holstered her pistol and crouched near the guy with the bag. She picked it up and looked inside. It rattled slightly like it was full of plastic chips. She smiled and stood up, saying nothing more.


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