Gate:
Shortie by Lone Wolf

Kudos to Fighting Ape for providing the story idea!

	The small bar sat on the street, it's dim neon sign declairing it's 
name: Hell's Gate. It's once proud front was brown and rusty, mostly from 
the years of abuse and the elements. Hell's Gate, the last place anybody in 
their right mind would like to be seen. That's where I was heading. God do I 
hate my job.

	It was a stormy day. I kept my hood firmly on top of my head. My hair 
was fucked up enough as it was; I didn't need the rain to do any more 
damage. My firearm was well hidden, inside my cloak on my right hip. If 
anyone saw it, there was going to be hell. I looked to my partner, the male 
wolf I knew and "loved" as Michael D'Ketra, and smiled. "You will hold my 
back in there if all hell breaks loose, right?"
	He looked at me through his black aviator glasses and laughed. "Ashy, 
if I didn't, the boss would have my ass." He peered over the shades and 
winked playfully. I smiled and fixed my cloak. He adjusted his Indiana Jones 
hat so it covered his face and he opened the door for me.

	The air reeked of testosterone, vomit, and booze. The poorly lit hall 
yielded such a wide array of very lovely scents and the foul beasts that 
were making them. I quiclky covered my nose. "The damn mage knows what the 
hell he's doing," I muttered to Michael, leaning closer to him. "I can 
barely survive this stench!"
	He chuckled. "Don't worry. We'll find the bastard and fuck his ass. It 
won't take more than five minutes."
	"I hope so." He motioned to the bar and we both went forward. I looked 
the crowd over. They obviously didn't approve of our being here; my gaze was 
returned with feelings of distrust, disgust, and hate. Michael didn't 
notice. He probably wanted a drink. That's why I admire the man.
	The barkeep was a little friendlier, however. "G'eve you two. What can 
I get ya?"
	"I will have a screwdriver."
	"And I will have a double scotch, on the rocks."
	"Okay. One screwdriver and a double scotch for the lady." He must have 
been in the business many years; it took him less than thirty seconds to 
prepare both drinks. He slid them to us. Michael removed his cred card from 
his shirt pocket and gave it to the barkeep. As soon as he got it back, we 
downed the drinks.
	"Hey, you two," a voice called from behind us.
	"What do you make of it?" Michael asked me.
	"Hostile, armed with a beer bottle. Semi-decent aim."
	"What should we do?"
	"You good at catching bottles?"
	"Yep."
	"I called you two," the voice repeated. "Now, are you gonna turn 
around or ignore me like the punks you are."
	Michael growled. "Calm down," I told him. "Just turn around and catch 
the bottle when he throws it at us."
	"Yeah. Okay." We turned on our heels to face the voice. As I 
suspected, a beer bottle whizzed through the air. Michael's hand shot up 
like a frog's tongue and caught the bottle. The rat who threw it at us 
backed away slightly. Michael smirked, held the bottle out for all to see, 
and crushed it. Broken pieces of glass fell to the ground, making soft 
chiming sounds as they hit the hard oak floor.
	"Only you can make falling glass play Bach's music as it hits the 
ground."
	He smirked. "I'll take that as a compliment." He flicked his hand. 
The shards of glass that were still in his hand shredded through the air and 
implanted themselves in various parts of the rat. He groaned and backed 
away.

	My ears twitched. "Michael, I can hear the target." I looked around. 
A slim looking ferret stood ahead of us. He was garbed in a long, black 
cloak, a tan rope belt tied around his waist. His face was decorated with 
thevarious instuments and markings that designated him as a technomage. "Is 
that him?"
	"Yes it is," Michael replied. "Let him make the first move."
	The ferret looked us over. "You....hunters...." He raised a hand. 
Instinctively, my hand went to my hip. "This is not your place. Leave now."
	"I think not," Michael shot back. "We came in here for a drink. That 
is all."
	"Don't fuck with me. The only reason a pair of hunters would come in 
here is because they were hired. Leave now or else."
	"Or else what?" The ferret frowned and waved his hand at us. Some 
force lifted the two of us off our feet and sent us flying into the back of 
the bar. The shelves collapsed as soon as we landed on the floor, showering 
us with the shot glasses it held. "Okay, can we waste him now?"
	"Way ahead of ya." I drew my firearm. "Ready?"
	He drew his. "Let's do this." We both stood up and fired. The ferret 
laughed and held both hands out. Our shots, which were pure energy, were 
absorbed by a field he had created.
	"What the fuck!" I cried. 
	The ferret smirked. "My turn." He pulled his hand back.
	"Look out!" Michael shouted. He dove at me, knocking the both of us 
out of the way as the mage fired off a beam of some sort. "We've got to try 
something a little stronger than this."
	I pulled a shell from my belt. "How about a #9?"
	"Right." He pulled the appropriate shell from his chest strap and we 
loaded the bullets into our guns. We cocked them and snuck towards the end 
of the bar. "On three, dive and fire." His response was the bar next to us 
exploding. "Three!" I dove across to a table, firing the gun off as I did. 
The #9 I put into it did it's thing, firing a fast moving blast of energy. 
The mage was quicker, however, putting the same field up and absorbing the 
hit. Michael went next, his shot doing the same thing. The mage put his 
palm out. The shot hit his palm and ricocheted in another direction.
	"Fucka." I pulled another shell from my belt. "I'm trying #12."
	"All right." He flipped the table over onto it's side and we hid 
behind it. He attached a small device to the bottom of it, which enveloped 
the wodden piece of furnature in a strong, but not permanent, force field. 
We were lucky it went up so quickly; the mage fired off another shot rather 
quickly. The field deflected the blow. I retalliated with the blast of a #12 
shell. The gun powered up and fired off a bolt about a half a foot in 
diameter. The mage blocked it, but was thrown back a little.
	"Doesn't anything kill this bastard?" Michael asked?
	"I don't know! He's protected by that fuckin' field."
	A mischevious glint came to his eyes. He had an idea. "Give me some 
cover fire. Create a distraction. I need to get behind him. Wait for my 
signal."
	"I got your back." He moved away, catching the eye of the mage. As he 
pulled his hand back to attack, I fired. Distracted by my shots, he turned 
his attack on me. I retalliated with a few more shots. He returned them in 
full. I kept an eye on Michael. As soon as he was behind the mage, he gave a 
thumbs up. "My signal," I muttered. I reached into my belt pouch and pulled 
out a shell. "#5, coming up." I loaded it and stood up. "Eat this, mother 
fucka!" I fired the gun. It released a continuous wave of energy at the 
mage. He could only stand there and block it with his field. Michael took 
that opportunity to sneak up on him and press his gun to the back of his 
skull.
	"Game over," he exclaimed before he pulled the trigger. The ferret 
fell to his knees, then to the ground. I got up and approached the body, my 
gun pointing down upon it. A chunk of it's head had been blown off. I 
lowered my gun and looked at Michael.
	"Nice job. Couldn't have done it better m'self."
	He nodded. "Fine, whatever. We need to get the body out of this 
building."
	"What for? We did the job."
	"Look." He pointed at the equipment attached to the ferret's face. A 
small light was flashing. "His clan must have some sort of fail safe revenge 
plan on it. We need to get the body out of the building. We can handle him 
better that way." He grabbed the body's legs. I nodded and grabbed the arms.

	We threw the body into the street and readied ourselves for absolute 
hell. "What clan is he?" I asked.
	"Crafre. They have the beasts that seek revenge."
	"Get your bolt caster ready. I think we'll need it." 
	"I don't think-"
	"Put the caster on Michael. We're going to need it." He nodded and 
removed the bow-like attachment for his firearm. It was at that moment that 
the body exploded. We shielded ourselves from flying flesh and looked. The 
explosion had released a spirit of some sort. It towered over us, at least 
12 feet tall, it's skin ivory white and covered in scales, it's two black 
eyes all but piercing our souls, and a green gem set in it's forehead. 
"Let's do this!" I raised my gun and fired. The shots bounced off the 
creature's hide. It frowned and swatted me down the street.
	"ASHY!" Michael cried. He raised his bolt caster and fired. The caster 
turned the firearm energy into a bolt, which flew at the creature's face. 
The creature quickly put it's hand up to catch the bolt. I fired from where 
I was, aiming for nowhere in particular. It ignored me, concentrating at the 
bolt.
	"Why would it protect it's face?" I wondered aloud. I fired again. The 
blast, this time, skimmed the surface of that green gem in it's forehead. It 
howled in pain and backed up. I knew what to do. "Michael! Aim for the gem!" 
He nodded and supressed fire. I pulled a #3, which was just a #5 only more 
concentrated and longer lasting, and loaded it. "Hey, ugly!" The creature 
turned to me. "Eat this!" I fired. The blaster charged and fired, sending me 
to my rear. The stream of fire flew forward and plastered the gem. The 
creature howled, staggered, and disappeared in a cloud of smoke. I got back 
to my feet, half out of breath. "Michael!"
	He ran over to me. "You okay kid?"
	"Yeah, I'm fine." I put my hood back on. "Are we done now?"
	"Yes. Target has been eliminated. Let's go home." He put his hat back 
on and smiled. "The boss will love to hear what happened."
	"I bet he will." I holstered my firearm. All I wanted to do was 
debrief and take a nice, long shower. After all, I deserved it.

End

Ashley Williams and Michael D'Ketra are © Lone Wolf and <([ Lone Wolf 
Studios ])>