When they arrived at the roof, Micro was surprised by the sheer lack of guns drawn or anyone waiting for him there.
“...Strange. I could’ve sworn he had me found out,” he thought as they reached the top of the stadium’s office, “No…there has to be something else happening. I’m sure of it.”
“...Young man,” Hattori started off, “The reason I brought you here was to speak to you in confidence.”
Micro adjusted his glasses as he listened carefully. “...excuse me, sir?”
“You’re a young man who’s entering his stage of adulthood,” Hattori went on, “I just want to explain something to you: Don’t force yourself into a line of work that you’ll end up regretting later on as you get older.”
“...You regret being the head of a baseball stadium?” Micro asked inquisitively, “I don’t think I quite understand.”
“...You’re not foolish. I know you aren’t. You and I both know full well what I’m really capable of. I’m sure you’ve figured it out by now. All of what I have…is not something to admire, young man. If you were hoping to get involved, then I’m afraid I’m going to have to let you go.”
Micro raised a brow. “...and by ‘let me go’ you mean…?”
“Go home,” the older gentleman continued, “Live a life of a young man and grow into someone better than myself. I’m almost certainly going to die sooner or later and I want you to have no part of this. It’s bad enough that both of my sons are involved. But you? You’re not a part of this.”
“...So not only does he know, but he’s also rather reasonable,” Micro thought to himself, “I guess at the end of the day, he’s still a father. Even if he is a mobster from the East, he still wants his kids to be okay.”
With a deep breath, Micro replied, “Well if that’s what you want…”
Chk!
“Son of a bitch old man, I knew you were getting soft!” Tatsu shouted as he walked onto the roof with a machine pistol in his hand--the PM-9 to be exact. “This asshole’s been keeping tabs on our shit the entire time and what--you’re just gonna let him walk all over you? Are you--have you lost what little brain cells you have left you senile crock of shit?!”
“...!” Micro held his hands up as Hattori approached his son.
“This is none of your business,” the old man chastised his child, “Put the weapon down and leave.”
“Are you for real--? He’s about to blab all of our secrets to the feds!”
“Really?” Hattori folded his arms, “And where is your proof?”
“Search him! He’s probably got some kinda--!”
While they were arguing, Micro would hear a message over his watch.
“Egghead--I’m coming out of the sky to get you now. Sit tight.”
As the baseball game ended and its patrons began to leave the stadium, Micro Chips could see what appeared to be a helicopter round the nearest bend from the corner of his eye with a rope ladder unfurled for him to grab onto.
“Section, don’t approach--repeat, do not approach,” Micro whispered into his watch but it was far too late at this point. The chopper was well on its way and he had no choice but to follow.
Soon enough, the argument between Tatsu and his father was drowned out by the loud, whirring blades of a helicopter that flew over them…taking Micro Chips with it.
“...Wait what?!” Tatsu yelled out as he watched Micro fly over the now-empty stadium, holding onto the ladder. “Mother of god--you see what you did ya old bastard?!” he tried to point his gun at the helicopter but was quickly stopped when his father grabbed him by the wrist.
“Let him go!” Hattori insisted as he forced his son’s hand back. “This has nothing to do with him!”
“...You still don’t get it, do you?” Tatsu dropped the gun…and immediately pulled out a communicator that he’d bark an order into. “Ren! Hachi! Take it down!”
“NO!”
It was too late to take anything back. Mere seconds after the order was given, the two people--a young man and a young woman--that Tatsu had called for had leapt out into the middle of the empty baseball stadium and fired off homing missiles from shoulder-mounted rocket launchers!
And from within the helicopter…
BEEEP!
Flash watched in horror as the flares went off. The flare’s heat was able to divert one of the missiles to the bleachers where it exploded harmlessly. But the other…
“BAIL, MIKE!” he yelled as he leapt out of the driver’s seat of the chopper.
“SHIIIIT!” Micro screamed as he leapt off of the ladder.
BLAM!
The chopper was consumed by a fiery explosion as the boys landed on the baseball outfield’s turf in a rough tumble that left them paralyzed for a moment.
“Daaagh! Can I catch a break just once? Once?!” Flash groaned after hitting the ground.
“We can’t stay here…” Micro groaned as he got onto his hands and knees. His glasses were broken into pieces with each lens cracked open, “We need to…”
“I don’t think so,” the young woman wearing a black suit--Hachi--approached them--followed by at least a dozen more people in similar attire, “You’re coming with us.”
With no way out, both Flash and Micro held up their hands in defeat…