Awakening The Angel System (LITRPG): S1 The Great Escape/RE/EDITED/SH VERS.

Chapter 11: Chapter 11: The Man who Followed an [ANGEL]


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Chapter 11: The Man who Followed an [ANGEL]

 

Alarmed Jack attempted to back away but Mike quickly hugged him, drawing the boy closer.

"Act natural, and don't turn around. There's someone tailing you." Mike whispered in the boy's ear with a wide smile, pressing his gun in between him and the teen, hiding it. "You carrying?"

"Uh. Yeah, I figured better safe than sorry," Jack stammered, his body tensing up as he slid his hand over his jacket where his pistol holster lay.

"Good kid… Happy birthday, kiddo!" Mike suddenly exclaimed, pulling the boy closer and ushering him toward their gray slab apartment. Soon the pair entered their building where Mike fished out his mailbox key and directed Jack to pretend as if he was checking the mail in the lobby.

Doing so, Jack took a quick glanced to the side where he could make out a man dressed casually in blue jeans and a leather jacket occasionally glancing over at their direction. Quickly looking away Jack went back to "Check the Mail" as Mike slinked off up the rickety upstairs.

"Just act natural kiddo, I'll be back!" Mike called out before jimmying a window on the second floor and crawling out of it. Jack’s hand began to shake as he recalled the last time he had an unwanted visitor.

Was this it? Had he been had? Did someone come looking for the mercenary he murdered?

[Relax there's no Awakened nearby. So at least there's that.] Sahaqiel assured, helping to ease some of Jack's jitteriness.

After a few minutes of doing his best mail-checking impersonation, the metal fence door of the apartment building opened with Jack's stalker setting foot into the building, followed closely by Mike.

"Easy does it. Keep your hands straight at your sides and keep walking. Otherwise, I'll be selling your body parts to the rip-ofF-docs." Mike threatened, holding the man at gunpoint and ascending the cracking stairs with him. "Stop. Hands up slowly. Kid, frisk him for weapons then open my apartment."

Jack quickly patted the vagrant down, searching the leather jacket stalker thoroughly. In his boot, he found a knife, his jacket a pistol, and in his back pocket a pair of dog tags and some loose change.

Taking everything, Jack handed them to Mike before going and unlocking the man’s door. Immediately after undoing Mike’s lock, Jack turned to his own apartment to check on Jill but was stopped by a quick hand on his shoulder.

"Booby-trapped the door. Don't open it unless you want to be shot. Follow me kiddo."

Alarmed Jack's face furrowed in surprise as he spun around. "What? What if you weren't here to warn me?!"

"Easy kiddo, I've been busy here all day. If I weren’t here to warn you, then you'd have bigger issues." Mike replied, shoving his captive into the apartment. Jack was still worried, but luckily Sahaqiel was there for him.

[I'll go check on her for you.] Sahaqiel offered, thankful for the Angel's offer Jack's shoulder's eased up a little.

Please… but don't reveal yourself. I don't want her knowing anything that could get her in trouble.

[Don't worry, I’ll be as quiet as a mouse.] Sahaqiel said, phasing into Jack's apartment.

"Close the door." Mike ordered as Jack entered his immaculate home. Jack couldn't believe his eyes. All of the trash was gone and everything was neat and tidy. For a second he thought they might have broken into someone else's home but the blue tarp on the floor and chair in the middle of the tiny living room sent a chill down Jack's spine.

He'd seen enough movies to know what was about to happen.

The prisoner paused, hesitant to move further after eyeing the metal chair bolted to the floor.

"Hey man, I was just following orde-"

"Sit down!" Mike barked, interrupting the stalker and shoving the man into the chair. "Take off your jacket and shirt and put your hands in the restraints."

The man took on an incredulous look.

"Or what? you'll shoot me? You’re crazy if you think I’ll just go ahead and put myself willingly in cuffs. Go ahead, shoot me! The Constables will get an alert of shots fired and come crashing in, arresting the lot of ya." The man snarled in defiance.

A sudden click sound followed by Mike's laughter made the man turn pale as Mike called his prisoner's bluff and cocked the hammer back on his gun.

"You forgot one key fact in your defense there mate. I'm a Constable Lieutenant. I just have to call in a ten-twenty-two and no one will bat an eye. Now put your hands in the restraints or I'll put two in your kneecaps and start escalating the violence." Mike aimed his gun at the man’s legs, causing the captive’s body to go rigid at the sight.

"Alright! Chill man! I'm doing it." The man yelled, peeling off his jacket and shirt to reveal a muscular body with a tattoo of a staff and seven over his heart.

Mike went wide-eyed at the sight of the tattoo, clenching his jaw as his captive placed his arms in the restraints. Suddenly two metal cuffs sprung up locking the man's wrists in place. He glanced down at the restraints before looking up at Mike and taking on a puzzled expression.

"You recognize the tattoo." The stalker said quietly, following Mike's transfixed gaze.

"Seventh Solomon," Mike whispered.

"You're a veteran… How about you let me go then? Brother to brother? From one survivor to the next? I’ll tell you everything you want to know and you’ll never see me again."

The two men stared at each other intensely for a while until finally, Jack opened his mouth to break the silence.

“What’s Seventh Solomon?” Jack asked, feeling out of the loop.

“A Massacre.”

“A Massacre.”

Both men replied simultaneously neither looking away from the other.

That… tells me nothing… Jack grumbled internally but kept his mouth shut.

“You look a little young to have been part of that expedition,” Mike scoffed, brandishing a knife from his prosthetic and placing it under the man’s chin. “You wouldn’t be lying to me, would you? They say torture isn’t a good way to retrieve information, but I think I can prove them wrong.”

The man furrowed his brow at the sharp object that was being scrapped across his chin.

“Look man, I was seventeen during the expedition. Attached to the Third Imperial Mechframe battalion as a reloader when General Ishta rolled out the glorified boxes with legs. Barely made it out with my life when the ground erupted beneath our feet.”

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“So you were there. You’re a bit far from home Imperial. What brings you to the Corpo capital?”

“Same as anyone. Same as you I bet. Creds and a promise of a better future… How about it? You let me go and I tell you everything?”

Mike pondered for a moment before retracting his serrated blade. "Fine. Who sent you? And how much do they know?”

The prisoner visibly relaxed, his entire body untensing as he began spilling everything he knew. “Look, I’m just a snitch hired to observe this building and the kid. When the woman who hired me didn’t get back to me with the rest of the payment I went looking for answers.”

“Why’d she want eyes on our apartment?”

“She said she had a funny feeling and to keep an eye on a kid in particular.”

The man looked over at Jack who was staring at him intently. “Look if yaw killed her it’s none of my business, I just wanted the other half of the payment I was promised. If yaw pay me I’ll look the other way and you'll never see me again.”

“Negotiating for money while being held at gunpoint?” Mike let out a low whistle. “Bold move.”

“We all got to make a living right? I got bills to pay and work on commission. Plus, that merc was a bitch anyway and yaw seem like alright people."

“You tell anyone else about this?”

“No. She wanted it to be kept hushed, her orders. Didn’t tell me what it was about just to keep tabs on the kid. Honest to the Saintess.”

Mike scratched his beard, as if mulling over what to do. Looking over at Jack, Mike then did something that surprised everyone in the room. He walked to the nearby kitchen and opened his liquor cabinet.

“You drink? What's your brand of poison?”

The prisoner laughed. “After what we’ve been through? Of course I drink. Hadn’t met a soldier that didn’t. Whiskey shaken, not stirred, with citrus.”

“Obviously,” Mike replied before pressing a button on his prosthetic and beckoning to Jack. “Turret is deactivated, I’ve already given your sister the talking to about last night. She knows not to say anything. Go home and finish packing up while I continue my chat with our guest here.”

Taking one final glance at the gruff man, Jack wasted no time and bolted to his apartment. After unlocking his door he was greeted by a strange hog-posh pedestal of wires and circuitry that held what looked like a makeshift shotgun in its robotic hands. Fortunately, the machine was turned off, otherwise Jack would have become a pasty mess on the wall judging from the belt-fed shotgun shells dangling from its side.

“Fascinating contraption isn’t it,” Sahaqiel said, startling Jack as she phased through a wall leading from Jill’s room.

“Seriously stop doing that, or give me a warning!” Jack hissed.

“Oh but I just love your reaction when I do it.” Sahaqiel teased, poking Jack on the nose with a soft Boop

“How’s Jill?”

“She’s fine, go see for yourself. She’s been very patient.”

Confused by her words, Jack knocked on the pasty door of Jill's room before opening it.

“Happy birthday bro!” Jill cried out, pausing her video game upon seeing Jack.

With the exception of her bed, wheelchair, and gaming intellipad, all of Jill’s belongings seemed to have been packed, and ready to be moved, no doubt thanks to Mike. Though next to her on the floor was a full cookie cake and some soda.

“Uncle Mike brought cake! I didn’t eat any cuz I was waiting for you to come home.” Jill said, before happily brandishing a knife from out of nowhere.

“That’s dangerous!” Jack yelled, activating Dash and rushing across the room, snatching the knife out of Jill’s hand faster than she could react. Jill sat wide-eyed for a moment, processing the fact that her brother seemed to teleport, but she quickly recovered.

“Hey! I’m not a little girl anymore! I’m nine! I know how to cut cake!” Jill pouted, folding her arms. Seeing her reaction Jack visibility softened.

She was right, sooner or later he’d have to let her do things for herself as he wouldn’t always be around. Especially during his basic training.

Reluctantly, Jack gingerly handed the girl back the knife, hilt first.

“Finally! Cake! I’ve been so hungrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrryyy!” Jill cried before viscously flinging chunks of cake around as she butchered the defenseless dessert. Jack smiled, letting himself get lost with spending time with his sister and ignoring the fact that a man was being held against his will in the next apartment over.

After cleaning up, eating cake and playing video games with Jill, Jack went back to his room, where everything he had was already packed, with the exception of a worn out leather jacket that wasn’t his but seemed to fit him.

“Pretty snazzy.” Sahaqiel said, eyeing Jack as he fished out an envelope out of the inner coat pocket. Eyeing the paper it read HAPPY BIRTHDAY! But had instructions not to open it until he left the city. A sudden knock at the front door drew the teen’s attention away from the letter.

With his finger curling around his pistol trigger, Jack checked the spyglass where he could see Mike on the other end.

 

“Hey kiddo,” Mike said upon Jack opening the door. “I’m heading out, I’ll be back in a few.”

"Alright, what happened with-" Jack was about to asked about their "guest" but trailed off when he noticed Mike's face.

Despite the man’s smile, the light in his eyes seemed faded, betraying the expression he was trying to portray. Looking down, Jack could see the familiar extra-large duffle bag at the man’s feet, fully stuffed, sending a chill down Jack's spine.

The teen blinked in alarm, a sudden sickly feeling bubbling up within himself as his gaze unwillingly shifted from the stuffed duffle bag to the man standing calmly in the dim hallway.

“You didn’t… you didn’t let him go… did you?”

“No kid… no I did not.” Mike replied, before turning away and carrying the duffle bag down the stairs.

 

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