Disclaimer: Ghost in the Shell: Stand Alone Complex is a product of Production I.G. with North American distribution going to Bandai Entertainment and Manga Int'l (I was wrong about Pioneer/Geneon splitting the North American rights with Bandai). Bottom line is that I don't own it.

OoooO

"Batou! Batou!"

The big cyborg was hearing his name over and over in his head as he was still unable to make out shapes and outlines.

"Batou….what happened?" he heard a familiar voice ask followed by footsteps. It was the Major; he could hear her but still wasn't able to make out her outline.

"Well, our mysterious gunman apparently decided to use an incendiary device to cripple my optics and get away." The big cyborg calmly explained. "And since I'm as blind as a bat right now, I'm going to have to say it worked". His optics were beginning to pick up a rough outline of his hand in front of him when he turned to where he last heard the major's voice. He could make out Kusinagi's outline; she was on one knee inspecting something on the ground.

"Magnesium phosphorescent flash-bang grenade…" the major said out loud.

"Where's Togusa?" Batou asked.

"He's securing the crime scene on the ship." She said as she stood up. "So I take it our shooter got away?"

"I'm not sure…your eyes are probably working better than mine." Batou noted. "Maybe you can take a look around, see if you can find him."

Even though Batou couldn't see it, a light smirk was on the corner of the Major's lips.

"I don't know how to tell you this, Batou…." She began to say "But I'm pretty sure our shooter is a woman."

"Hmmph…whatever; I believe in equality of the sexes."

Motoko bit her tongue. It was taking enormous self-restraint on the major's part not to break out into a sing-song Batou got beat up by a girl, Batou got beat up by a girl…

Almost as if he could sense Kusinagi's train of thought, Batou continued. "Togusa will probably have something to say about it….damn smartass."

"I'm not a Seeing Eye dog, and I'm sure you won't need my help getting back to the warehouse….right?" she queried.

"Yeah yeah…."

"The techs from our section will be here soon to go over the crime scene. I'm sure they can help you with your eyes while they're here."

Motoko continued briefing and subtly dressing down Batou as the two of them made their way back to Ometov's vessel. Even though the big cyborg was beginning to regain some of his sight, Kusinagi thought Batou could benefit from at least following the sound of her voice back to the pier.

oOO00OOo

Lastra gingerly opened the door to the apartment. There was a small creak as the door swung open, but it might as well have been a thermonuclear warhead going off as far as the slender young woman was concerned. After what happened on the waterfront, the brunette was understandably nervous.

Her face went pale as she could make out a figure in standing in the hallway leading to the kitchen. It was wearing the body armor, helmet, face-guard and optics of the local police's Rapid Response Team. Slung over his shoulder was a scaled-down SIG 541 assault rifle, also police-issue.

"Hey there, you're back." The ominous figure said in a surprisingly warm and welcoming tone.

"Sangre de Christo!" she hissed in her native tongue. "You scared the hell out of me! What are you doing in that, Ken?" she admonished him as she brushed a lock of her short hair from her eyes.

"I had to see how these looked on me- I'd draw entirely too much attention to myself in a poorly-fitting uniform. You're not upset that they aren't available in 'his and hers' sizes, are you?" He joked before sensing that something was amiss. "Are you OK?"

Latsra's hand unconsciously made its way to where Togusa's bullet had managed to find a seam in her body armor. "It…it's nothing." She tried to reassure him. The wound certainly wasn't life-threatening- in fact, it hardly slowed her down. But she knew that he'd worry too much.

"It's not 'nothing', you're bleeding." Hamada said sternly. "What happened? Did the Russian do this?"

"Don't worry; I took care of the Russian." Lastra reassured him. However, news of the latest series of events did little to reassure him. Sustaining a gunshot wound was not part of his detailed and meticulous planning.

"What happened?" he asked coldly as he loosened the faceguard. She could now see his eyes. Lastra felt like an insect pinned to a board, now frozen in his gaze.

"Like I said, I took care of the Russian, his bodyguards and his database." She said nervously before continuing. "But he was being watched by somebody."

"Police?"

"They looked like Police….I couldn't tell for sure. I ran into some problems with them on the way out and didn't stick around-"

"They didn't follow you here, did they?" he interrupted. She couldn't help but notice that he was now tightly clutching the rifle. Destroying one possible source of information would do them no good if the authorities followed her back to this location.

"No!" she said unconvincingly. It was the truth, she had double-checked and triple-checked, but her nerves were making matters worse; he had this effect on her. Lastra tried collecting herself before continuing. "I used some of the countermeasure techniques you showed me."

She almost seemed to flinch as he moved closer. However, he gently cupped her chin and looked into her eyes. "You mean 'counter-surveillance' dear…" he corrected.

"Of course." She whispered absently.

"That's my girl…" he smiled warmly as his hand slid down under her shoulder. "Now….let's take a look at you."

Lastra let out a small gasp as the Velcro body armor was loudly torn off.

"This might sting a little…." Hamada said as he began helping her out of the skintight thermo-optic camouflage suit. "….but I can think of a few things to take your mind off of the pain".

oOO00OOo

In the dead of night, a white Mitsubishi panel van was circling the block in the slow lane. There was little traffic out at this time of night. The driver was a Hispanic male in his late 20s, while his passenger was a distinguished-looking white haired gentleman about 30 years his senior.

The two occupants had their attention focused on a multi-story building. A plaque on the front of the building read Embejada de Republica de Genoma with additional script in Kanji and Katakana beneath it. All appeared quiet inside the structure, which didn't suit the van's occupants at all. They continued their slow drive past the South American Embassy, aware of the possibility that they were being watched.

"How much longer, Professor?" the driver asked impatiently.

"Soon…" he reassured the younger man. "Soon enough."

oOO00OOo

"Two shots to the head, so I guess we can forget about picking anything up from this guy's braincase." Ishikawa said as he looked down on the Russian's corpse.

A pair of technicians from Section 9 was gingerly putting Omeotov's laptop into a clear plastic bag. The Russian's corpse was already in a plastic bag after photos had been taken of the crime scene.

"The hired help isn't any better off. Even if they weren't, I don't think they could tell us anything new being so low on the food chain." Togusa noted. It looked as though Omeotov has three bodyguards with him and the transparent assassin had taken care of all three. "Isn't this something we can just leave to the locals?"

"Negative." The section chief spoke up as he entered the room. "According to your reports, the assailant used thermo-optic camouflage in the commission of a crime. Either it was from one of the Public Security Sections, or morelikely it was smuggled into the country. Either way, this is something the locals aren't equipped to deal with."

Daisuke's observation was met with an incredulous silence from Ishikawa and Togusa. "Think of it as a chance to earn some overtime." The old man said as Motoko walked in behind him.

"Right…" Ishikawa said rather skeptically as he and Togusa walked past.

"Are you saying this could be an extrajudicial slaying?"

"We can't rule out that possibility, but I think it's something else…."

"Chief?" Motoko asked.

"Yes, what is it?" Aramaki said, even though he already had an idea what she was going to ask.

"Why were we sent down here tonight? You knew something was going to happen."

The old man paused for a moment. "Did I ever tell you about our predecessor, Major?"

On the surface, Section 9's chief appeared to be acting cryptic and evasive once again, but she knew that his question would somehow be relevant to the topic at hand. However, Motoko was wondering exactly how Daisuke would make the transition.

oOO00OOo

"You're lucky" Hamada said as he examined the bullet. "This is a hollow point, which means it was supposed to mushroom inside once it struck you and leave an exit wound the size of a teacup."

Lastra nodded, uncertain of whether or not he was exaggerating.

"But…the tip of this round caught enough fibers from your armor to fill in the hollowpoint, which made it more like ball ammunition."

"Oh?"

"So the vest doesn't quite stop the bullet like it's supposed to. Instead it goes in cleanly and at a slower velocity and didn't strike any bone. That made it easier for me to remove, Lucky Girl." Hamada put down the forceps and put the bullet into a small metallic bowl. Lastra promptly picked it up and looked at it.

"Maybe I can wear it as a necklace? You know…instead of a four leaf clover." She pondered as she began applying gauze to her wound. Hamada began swabbing down the forceps and tweezers with rubbing alcohol. As it turned out, the first aid kit was also police-issue.

"Sure, why not?" Hamada mused. As much as he enjoyed the attractive brunette's companionship, he also knew they they'd be quite busy in the upcoming days.

"Your own 9mm rabbit's foot." He said absently.

OoooO

Author's Note: Woo-hoo! GO RED SOX! GO PATRIOTS! Ok…now that I got that out of my system, thanks to those of you who have taken the time to review and offer constructive criticism and ideas. Since I posted the first chapter, the first two volumes of Ghost in the Shell: Stand Alone Complex is now available here in the USA…and worth every penny! For those of you that enjoy the series, I hope you also enjoy the fic.