Chapter 161: The Sniping Duel
"Heh, you're right. It really is time to make a quick decision," Gin said, lowering the gun he had pointed at Vermouth. He retrieved the stowed eavesdropping device from his pocket, his gaze flicking to the window where Kogoro Mouri was peeking out. "The fool who planted this might have left fingerprints. Once we kill him and check the people he associates with, we should be able to trace this back to the source."
Suddenly, Cointreau's entire body went rigid. He sensed it a split second before it happened. His hand shot out, clamping around Gin's arm and yanking him back with explosive force. A heartbeat later, a bullet tore through the space where Gin had been standing, aimed precisely at the small listening device in his hand.
The sharp crack of the gunshot made Kogoro Mouri, Conan Edogawa, and Jodie Starling all snap their heads up in unison.
On the opposing rooftop, Korn and Chianti could no longer afford to keep their sights on Kogoro Mouri and the boy. They straightened instantly, their professional instincts kicking in as they scanned the skyline in the direction the bullet had come from.
"Behind us," Korn reported, his voice flat as he glanced back at a building further down the block. "Eight o'clock."
"About seven hundred yards," Cointreau added, shielding his eyes with a hand as he gauged the distance.
Hearing this, Gin pocketed the bug and snatched the sniper rifle Korn had set aside. He brought the scope to his eye, his focus narrowing on the distant building.
"Shuichi Akai." The name was a low growl, ripped from Gin's throat as his eyes widened at the sight of the man who had fired the shot.
On the other side, Shuichi Akai saw his shot had missed its mark. He frowned, a flicker of annoyance crossing his features as he muttered to himself, "The bug wasn't destroyed. This could be trouble."
He adjusted his aim slightly, shifting his muzzle toward the figure standing near Gin—the one whose lightning-fast reaction had saved the Black Organization executive. Upon seeing the face in his scope, Shuichi recognized him. It was the same person who had appeared so suddenly at the harbor.
'Excellent skills, incredible reflexes, and decisive action,'Shuichi thought.'He's almost as dangerous as Gin. For the Organization to have another member like that... this is not good news.'
Noticing Gin's movements, Shuichi immediately swung his scope back. He saw Gin raising a sniper rifle of his own, aiming directly back at him. A grim smile touched Shuichi's lips as he fired, a welcoming gift for their long-awaited reunion, aimed directly at the other man's scope.
"Finally... we meet again, my dear nemesis."
Seeing the bullet shatter the lens of the rifle in Gin's hand, Shuichi allowed himself a brief moment of satisfaction.
But then, his heart seized. A primal sense of danger screamed through him, and he instinctively threw his body to the side.
Crack!
The instant he moved, a bullet grazed his cheek, close enough to feel the heat, before slamming into the wall behind him. If he hadn't dodged...
'Besides Gin,'Shuichi wondered, his mind racing,'who else in the Organization can make a shot from over seven hundred yards?'
He immediately looked back through his scope. As he expected, it was the other man—the one who was just as troublesome as Gin. No, perhaps even more so.
At that moment, Cointreau, using the sniper rifle he had just "borrowed" from Chianti, aimed at Shuichi Akai again and fired.
"Tsk." Cointreau clicked his tongue, a hint of dissatisfaction in the sound. Akai had dodged the fatal shot again. Still, he hadn't escaped completely this time; it looked like the bullet had clipped his shoulder.
The position was far from ideal. He was on a lower rooftop, shooting up at Shuichi Akai's elevated perch. The angle was awkward, making precision difficult.
But Shuichi Akai certainly didn't feel Cointreau's awkwardness; he only felt the man's relentless, suffocating pressure. He stared intently through his scope, tracking Cointreau's every micro-movement, and barely managed to avoid another bullet aimed at his vitals.
He didn't dodge it entirely. The round tore into his shoulder, and Shuichi couldn't suppress a muffled groan of pain. He quickly mastered himself, his hand trembling for only a second before he steadied his rifle and fired a suppressing shot downward, preventing the man from taking clean aim again.
Cointreau observed Akai's movements, dodging the return fire while doing his best to line up another shot.
He had to admit, the man was truly the FBI's ace. Landing that first hit on him was likely a fluke, born from the fact that Akai didn't know him and hadn't been sufficiently on guard. Cointreau's initial shot had disrupted Akai's rhythm, and the follow-up had struck before he could fully react. But even then, Shuichi Akai had managed to twist away, protecting his vital organs. Cointreau was beginning to see him in a new light.
"Aren't we leaving yet?" Cointreau asked without looking back, his eyes still locked on Shuichi Akai's position. "The police should be here any minute."
Gin wiped away a trickle of blood from his cheek, a shallow cut left by a shard of his shattered scope. He stared at the distant building, his expression unreadable.
"Let's go," he ordered, his voice decisive. "Retreat!"
Their position was a liability. Among the members present, only Cointreau could effectively trade fire with Shuichi Akai. If they lingered and the FBI managed to surround them, the situation would become infinitely more complicated.
"But... what about that detective and the brat?" Chianti demanded. "Are we still going to kill them?"
Vermouth shot Chianti a look devoid of emotion. "This is hardly the time to be thinking about that. Besides, the fact that the FBI is here sniping at us means this was a trap, and that detective was the bait. Do you understand now?"
"You bitch!" Chianti glared at Vermouth, her eyes blazing with anger. She was certain Vermouth's words were a jab at her intelligence.
"Enough!" Gin's voice cut through the tension like a whip. "What time do you think it is? Still arguing? Move!" He gave both Chianti and Vermouth a sharp, warning look.
Under Cointreau's covering fire, the group quickly evacuated the rooftop.
Seeing from the corner of his eye that the others had retreated, Cointreau stopped aiming with lethal precision. He fired several consecutive shots toward Shuichi Akai's general location, and in the brief moment it took for the FBI agent to re-aim, he turned and followed his comrades, melting away from the scene.
Downstairs at the Mouri Detective Agency, Jodie and Conan watched the Black Organization's vehicles pull away, and both let out a collective sigh of relief. Jodie immediately took out her phone, relaying the direction of their escape to her colleagues and telling them to follow.
Although agents were dispatched to tail them, no one, Jodie included, held out much hope. They knew the Organization's drivers were experts at shaking a tail, but they had to try.
Inside the Porsche 356A, Vodka was focused intently on the road, weaving through traffic to lose the FBI cars behind them.
"Gin, what did that woman mean about the detective being bait?" In the other car, Chianti was multitasking, expertly maneuvering her vehicle while speaking to Gin through her communicator, still stewing over Vermouth's earlier comment.
"Idiot," Vermouth muttered from the back seat, leaning against the headrest with her arms crossed. She was already in a foul mood, and Chianti's question only soured it further.
Fortunately, Chianti didn't hear her. Otherwise, the car would have undoubtedly become the stage for another very one-sided argument.
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