For the first time, she saw him clearly in the moonlight. He was a big, muscular man dressed in a boiler suit with the top undone, with a massive gun belt and holster. His right shoulder was bleeding, but he was still holding a distinctly silver, large-caliber revolver in his right hand… It was an S&W M500, the most powerful .50-caliber revolver civilians could purchase. It could hold only five bullets, so the cylinder must have been empty, and Fuki wasn’t going to give the man time to reload.
But then she saw that the man was holding a Beretta in his other hand… Just like the cop’s gun. Or was it the cop’s gun that he had picked up? He was pointing it at Fuki.
He opened fire.
But Fuki was already holding her satchel bag in front of her, and she had activated the ballistic shield airbag, which could also protect her from explosions. The white airbag swelled up like a balloon, stopping the 9mm rounds with ease.
The airbag was effective only for a second, but that was enough. Fuki threw her satchel with the expanded bag at the man while she slid on the floor under it, keeping her body as low as possible.
Besides protecting the Lycoris from bullets, the white airbag, quickly inflating to a large size, was also good for blocking the target’s line of sight. The man didn’t see Fuki coming and was surprised to see her at his feet. Their eyes met, and in his eyes, Fuki saw fear. He took a step back and was about to raise the Beretta to shoot her, but she was faster, packing two bullets in his flank.
The man doubled over. Fuki put the momentum of her charge and all of her strength into a punch she delivered to his head, which was lowered to be well within her reach. The man fell over, spitting blood and teeth. Fuki tumbled on the floor and rolled up to stand. Without losing a moment, she fired at the Beretta in the man’s left hand. The shot knocked the gun out of his hand, taking some of his fingers with it.
Fuki took aim at the man’s head. She took in a deep breath. The man hunched up, cradling what remained of his left hand. His breathing was erratic, and he was making disgusting gargling noises. Fuki concluded he had no more means to attack her, and he was critically wounded.
“What were you using that stupidly big gun for?”
“I…like to shoot…people with…a big gun…”
“You’re messed up in the head.”
The man coughed up a lot of blood and stopped making those dreadful noises when breathing. He must have cleared whatever it was blocking his airway.
“It feels good to…shoot with the gun I like. To kill. To defeat… The disadvantages don’t matter… But the guns you use… Now that’s stupid… A 21? Glocks are all right, but that’s too big for…little girls…”
“Don’t worry about us.”
Fuki was indeed using a Glock 21. It used .45-caliber subsonic bullets, worked well with a suppressor, and was the standard weapon for Tokyo-based Lycoris. The larger caliber necessitated a wider grip, though, which barely fit inside the small hands of young girls.
From what Fuki had gathered, DA branches chose the Lycoris equipment based on what they thought was the most suitable, but all of the Lycoris active in Tokyo used the same gear. There might have been some specific cases where a different caliber gun would be given to a Lycoris, but even then, it would be a Glock. Uniformity helped to keep the costs down and simplified training of Lycoris, who were usable only for a very brief time after all. Lycoris rarely used other weapons during their regular missions, but they were permitted to use submachine guns, too, which used the same magazines as Glocks, which probably also contributed to the DA’s preference for those guns.
In any case, Fuki would have used any weapon she had been given without objections. She was confident that she could use any firearm effectively, so she didn’t really have a preference for any particular model.
“Ah… It’s an SF? Or is it Gen 4…? Or 5…? I can’t…see very well…”
The man was lying on his back, staring at the gun aimed at him. It was dark in the room, and the Glock was black, so he shouldn’t be able to make out its version.
Glock 21 was available in a short frame version—SF—which had a reduced grip size. This modification made it easier to hold. There were several generations—in other words, versions—of Glocks, and Glock 21 SF was based on a pre-generation 3 model, which was released a long time ago. Generation 4 or later versions of Glock 21 had narrower grips to begin with, with the option to add a back strap for users with larger hands.
“Doesn’t matter. It’s my job to use what I’ve been given, regardless of what you think.”
“If you’re going to shoot… If you’re going to die in a gun fight… don’t you want to be holding your ideal gun? Who wouldn’t? You don’t think so, Lycoris?”
“I don’t have a gun fetish like you.”
The man coughed and spat out more blood. His limbs started shaking. Fuki didn’t entertain the idea of standing there chatting with a guy she should terminate, and she had no interest in prolonging his suffering, either. She pointed her gun at his forehead.
“I’m happy…I get to die from a gun… In Japan, it’s like a dream come true.”
“Okay.”
“Lycoris, when you kill me…I want you to feel it. The sweetness of victory… The euphoria.”
“Shut up and die.”
She shot him. Target eliminated. The slide on her Glock stayed locked open.
Fuki took a deep breath, tension leaving her body. She looked up at the ceiling and closed her eyes, realizing only then how tired she was. The fight was finally over.
…She didn’t feel anything else. She waited a bit longer, but no euphoria ever came over her.
“…It’s not a game for me.”
Killing was her job. She didn’t do it for fun, and it wasn’t a choice. It had been decided that she’d be doing this job when she was so small she hadn’t even been self-aware yet. She wasn’t going to start enjoying it just because somebody told her to.