Canyons of Steel – Nobody Guns For My Family Pt. 6
Marianne quietly followed the black clad man as he traced his steps through the hallways of the office tower. Her only real concern was her sister’s safety, and every now and then she would remind Mannequin about that. It was finally sinking in. He would stop, inspecting the area carefully as they would prepare to move. Wordlessly, he would motion for her to follow, his own movements quiet and careful. Marianne Wollcott knew this man could be a valuable ally, or an incredibly dangerous enemy. She began to consider his words from before about leaving the Sisterhood.
Mannequin stopped suddenly, his entire body tensed. His suit was connected to the central secuirty grid, which allowed him to directly see any warnings immediately. Something came up on the comms. He turned his attention to Sister White, who followed him closely. Even through the tinted eye holes, Marianne could tell what was wrong. Her heart began to beat faster as she believed the worst. “Where is she?” was the only thing she asked.
“We have to be cautious.”
“Fuck cautious,” she spat back in a venomous rage. “This is my sister I’m talking about. You know something. I don’t care about any of the rumours I’ve heard about you, if you don’t tell me, I will thrash you around this room until you tell me.”
He watched her for a moment, contemplating his next action. She was a highly trained assassin, but he had his own fighting skills that have been honed over the years. “You will follow me. I know where she is. Lower level. Bay 3. Stay close to me.” Marianne narrowed her eyes and finally nodded affirmation. Together they worked their way through the hallways of the office tower, avoiding meeting any of the other assassins that had come. Mannequin knew that if they were to meet any of the other Sisters they would have to be dealt with, and Sister White might deal with them with extreme prejudice. He’d hoped to avoid this. Slowly, they wound their way to the lower level.
Marianne gasped as she took in the scene. Maxine’s body lay motionless on the floor. The woman known as Sister White cried in anguish. Her sister, her true sister, lay dead on the floor. Marianne rushed to her body, hoping that some life might be found, hoping that she could save her. Mannequin merely watched. His demeanor could have been taken as heartless, cold and emotionless. But behind the mask that hid his features, he was seething with rage. The only indication that such an emotion was present came from his fists as he clenched them hard.
“Well, well,” a cool voice said from the shadows. “After the incident in Ohio, I had always wondered if in fact you were going to show your true colours, Sister White.”
“You murderer,” Marianne hissed as she rose to her feet. The serrated edge blade was drawn quickly, a sign of what Marianne Wollcott planned on doing.
“Ha!” the woman replied as she stepped into the dim light. Her blade had already been drawn. “Murderer. Yes, I’ve seen the things you have done in your own past, Marianne,” she stated, using Marianne’s real name. A sign that she was suddenly no longer thought of as a Sister. “When you join the Sisterhood, you cut all ties you had to the outside world. That includes family. But you always had a weakness for family. You always had a weakness for morals. You were much like Operative Violet Rose, and Omega Six.” She brandished the blade in front of her, glaring at Marianne.
“Anything I have ever done in my own past,” Marianne said, her voice a low hiss. “I will re-enact upon you now.” She jumped forward, anger and rage her guiding force as all her energy was focused on her former Sister. The other assassin was ready, and lept toward Marianne. No need for the shadows, no need for deception. This would be glorious. To bad they both seemed to forget Mannequin was still there.
Marianne was reminded as a black clad open palm pushed her back. He raised his arm, the nanites hardening to that of steel as it blocked the blade from the other Sister. Mannequin quickly glanced to Marianne as he forcibly pushed back the attacker. “Stand down.” He turned back to the Sister and began his own assault, as well guided punches pushed her further back toward the wall. Just when she thought she might lose consciousness, Mannequin grasped the neckline of her tunic roughly. “Crawl back to the Sisterhood and tell them you failed. Because I will not allow you to shed any more blood this night.” He reached out to a door that they stood beside and opened it. It lead to the stairwell. And while Mannequin thought for a moment of tossing her down the remaining flight of stairs with great force, he merely shoved her limp form through the door. She stumbled as her dazed eyes tried to guide flailing hands toward the railing, and failed. She fell down the few steps, landing in a crumpled heap at the bottom of the landing.
Mannequin closed the door and locked it securely before he turned his attention back to Marianne. “Leave. Now!” he demanded. “There is nothing more you can do today. For now, this fight is over.”
Marianne Wollcott rose to her feet, her breath haggard as she glared at Mannequin. “And now what? I still want my revenge.”
“You will have it in time. But not now.”
The words were simple. And Marianne knew now was not the time to argue. Mannequin had his wits about him, and he would be a difficult opponent should she attempt to ignore his warnings. She would have her revenge, but not today.