might not be much but it should distract them long enough for him to tackle Tanaka and grab his gun. But the two ninjas would be quick to respond.
“So let me get this straight. Your brainwashing drug, should you choose to use it, would disrupt my reasoning abilities in the RES?” Fox specifically did not refer to the drug by its real name, Clarity, since it was only Parris who had mentioned that to him. Marx looked at him with a half-smile as she raised the syringe to eye level. “The RAS, Fox. It’s not called the RES.” She tapped the syringe causing the remaining air bubbles to surface. “And that is the area which screens out conflicting information going to the brain. This will first disrupt the ability to reason, along with personality formation.”
“In the hindbrain.” Fox raised the glass and stopped short of his mouth.
“No, the forebrain and the hypothalamus.”
“Oh, I’m not so sure of that.” Fox held the glass in hand and turned to the ninja to his left. “Do you mind checking that out for us? I’m curious to know who’s right.”
“Just give me his arm,” snapped Marx.
In that instant, Fox threw his drink onto the open flame in front of him. There was a loud popping sound and a flash of flame and sparks. Fox kicked up his legs and sent the table flying at Tanaka. He launched from his seat and reached into his pocket to grab the sand while he spun around. He then threw it into the eyes of one of the henchmen. At that the henchman doubled over with both hands at his eyes, Fox engaged the other as he blocked off a set of rapid strikes to his chest and face.
Dr. Marx backed away from the melee as Fox temporarily overpowered him, giving him time to tackle Tanaka to the floor and snatch his Sig P226 firearm from its holster, spin around, go down on one knee, and pull the trigger twice. As he expected, the same henchman, already in mid-air flight towards him, caught both bullets in the chest, and crash landed beside him. Fox was about to plug the other henchman when he was kicked in the hand, causing a shot to be fired into the ceiling. Fox was then kicked in the stomach which sent him crashing backwards into a table behind him, knocking it over.
This ninja was no ordinary street thug-he was a trained assassin. But then, so was Fox. His opponent attacked him, but Fox blocked the attacks and soon overpowered him, flooring him. The henchman tried to get up, but Fox had already thrown his leg out and connected the front of his shoe to his temple, knocking him out.
The Sig was still within his reach, and he snatched it up and aimed it at both Marx and Tanaka. “It’s time for a change of authority around here.” He could shoot them both right now and end this, but it would still leave him at a dead end since he didn’t know where Pandora was hidden, not to mention how many locations it could be stored at.
But now that he was in control, he would be the one to ask them questions, not only to uncover where to find Pandora, but also how to undo the effects of the Clarity drug.
“You.” Fox pointed the gun at Tanaka. “Get up.”
Tanaka’s grin faded and he did as told. Fox then pointed the gun at Dr. Marx.
“And you. Go stand beside him.” Marx, however, was much slower and obviously didn’t feel as threatened as Tanaka. Her stare went cold as she tightened her grip on the syringe as though to crush it in her hand.
“You won’t need that anymore, so give it to Tanaka.” Her eyes narrowed and the same coldness he felt when he first met her seemed to penetrate his bones, to which he responded by pointing the Sig at her head.
“Now!” Fox said, this time louder.
Marx sighed and handed the syringe to Tanaka. “You continue to impress me. I suppose you’re going to force me to take the truth serum to get the information you want. Pity it won’t work.”
“Oh yeah, why’s that?” Fox moved closer to them, stopping short about five feet away.
“I designed truth serum upgrades for the military, as well as their blockers,” she answered. “In fact, I’m on one of them right now.”
The shot Fox fired grazed Marx’s upper right arm, spinning her down on one knee as she grasped the wound with her opposite arm. Fox noticed beads of sweat form on Tanaka’s forehead.
With her back to Fox, Marx shot a look over her left shoulder in cold rage. “You idiot!” Her scream stung Fox’s eardrums.
Fox then smiled. “Tell me, Dr. Marx. Would you call this putting science to use? I got to say I like it. I’m curious to know how many bullets in your arms and legs you’d have to get before you start talking.” His sarcasm then lost its bite and his tone darkened as he glared at Marx. “Where’s Pandora?”
“You can kill me, but you’ll just end up destroying yourself and contributing to the global cleansing.” She got up, still holding the wound, and turned to face him. “The plans are already set in motion.”
“You’re bluffing.”
“Am I? Do you honestly think I’d have researched such a deadly microbe without knowing how to destroy it just in case something went wrong?”
“No, but then again if you shared the cult’s philosophy, you wouldn’t have bothered, would you?” Fox pointed the gun at Tanaka who still held the syringe. “Give her a shot. Or I’ll give you one.”
Glass shattered at the entrance of the cocktail lounge and an avalanche of loud music flowed inside. Fox counted more than six gunmen pour in quickly, before he ran into one of the booths for cover. When he looked out, slightly above the headrest, he saw Marx, with Tanaka’s help, running away.
Flying bullets filled the air around him. Fox ducked back down. He was clearly out-manned and out-gunned, and eventually they would force him to surrender. But that wasn’t an option for him.
He took another look to the middle of the dancehall with the suspended cages. That’s when a crazy idea came to him. It was risky, but doable. Fox looked below the glass partition and saw the booth that was in front of him. Beyond that there was a chain that suspended one of the caged dancers. It was well within jumping distance and that’s where he would make his exit. It looked sturdy enough to support his weight.
He pointed the Sig and pulled the trigger twice. No sound was heard above the loud music but the window pane shattered. He got up and pulled the trigger five more times in rapid succession, in different directions towards the entrance of the lounge. Naturally, the gunmen all dove for cover, and while they did so, he shoved the gun back in his holster and sprinted towards the booth, bullets flying past him.
When he was less than three feet away from the table, he leapt onto it. His foot landed on the windowsill and he threw himself upwards towards the chain with nothing below him but a five-storey drop. Catching the chain was easy, but keeping his grip wasn’t. His momentum nearly caused him to fumble on the chain and plummet to his death, but he managed to catch it with his left leg and wrapped it around his shin. He then grabbed the chain securely and let himself slide down until he landed on top of the cage.
A handful of people on the third and fourth floors saw Fox and rushed to the inner circle of the hall. Within seconds, Fox had almost everyone in the club watching him. He looked up and saw a few men rush to the windowsill from where he had launched himself. The gunshots would come soon. He knelt down and slid off the roof of the cage and caught the side bars. Fox watched the girl in the cage shriek and jump back.
He doubted Marx’s henchmen would risk hitting the girl, but depending on how desperate they were, they just might. A few seconds passed, but Fox couldn’t hear the faint staccato noises from the firearms amidst the loud music. They would have something else planned. As the cage descended, the spectators below cleared an opening for him, and he let himself drop to the floor to the welcoming cheers.
He couldn’t stay here. The longer he did, the more he was endangering the lives of others. And it began much sooner than he anticipated. He noticed commotion erupt to his left. People were being knocked over as a huge figure burst out from the crowd and lunged at him. Fox dipped low to the left and swept his right leg across the floor, caught the bouncer by the shins and tripped him. He flew forward in a nosedive and knocked over a few individuals like bowling pins. More bouncers would come, and he could take them all on easily. They were nothing more to him than oversized, moving punching bags. But they could stall him long enough for Marx’s other henchmen to get to him. He bolted in one direction and the crowd cleared a path for him.
Fox emerged from the crowd problem free, but knew he had to keep moving because the bouncers, and Marx’s henchmen, would be close behind him. In front of him was a peculiar individual that made him come to a halt. He was far from resembling the six-foot-tall, muscle-bound bouncers, but was an average-looking person. He was no more than five foot nine and wore a dark trench coat. But the way he stared at Fox definitely told him something was up. He didn’t seem as impressed by him as everyone else was, and Fox’s gut instinct told him to prepare for a fight. Years of experience told him that when someone is conspicuously out of place and is eyeing you, it’s not because he wants to chat.
