I splashed some cold water onto my face, and looked into the mirror. I was glad all the grade skipping saved me from the glassy eye looks from my classmate girls and the envious looks from the boys. After washing my face, I put on a black muscle shirt and black pants to go with that. I got out of the washroom and lay on the living room couch, and took a glance at my only roommate, Breaker. He was currently on the computer, as usual. He may look like your average scrawny Asian nerd in the cafeteria sipping apple juice and looking for a seat, but never judge a book by its cover, he is one of the very few people in the world that has the skill to infiltrate the U.S secure military network within minutes. He is an otaku or rather otaku god. The last time I saw him outside was probably months ago, the time he doesn't spend hacking some top security network, he would be watching anime 24/7.

"I am going to be leaving for some time," I said plainly.

"To where?" he asked. His eyes were still glued to the screen and wore head phone twice as big as his head.

"To London central, just a week."

"Oh."

"Did you happen to see my gun?"

"Uh-probably in that drawer."

This is one of the main reasons why I don't want to sleep in the dormitory. So instead Breaker and I rented a cheap apartment a forty minute drive away from Cambridge University. Even though the rent was supposed to be 50-50, I still sometimes have to make his end, because sometimes when he's caught up in anime, he might not sleep for days and eventually fall asleep and forget everything the next day. His electric bills take up almost half the rent, yet I still have to pay for it. I walked over to my drawer and pulled out my gun. It is a pistol made out of ceramic and some sort of plastic. Everything down to the ammo is non-metallic, making it invisible to metal detectors. The only exceptions for firearms in England are shotguns and rifles that are used for target practicing or hunting purposes; and even those they need to be stored in specialized cabinets. A hand gun is illegal; what makes my gun even more illegal is that the fact that it not made non-approved materials. I took out the ammo from one drawer and I begin feeding the gun with it. Then I turned my vision towards my black leather trench coat which I worn for many years. I went up to it and carefully put the gun into its breast pocket. You must be wondering why I am carrying a gun and the reason is simple. You don't know what out on the streets these days. Somehow I feel I will need it very soon.

The morning London train station was bursting with people, people from all various age groups, rich and the poor, and police trying to catch crooks that sells you 2nd hand tickets. I scanned my ticket at the pass and got onto the bullet train. As I got to my seat the familiar female voice announced:

"All passengers please sit in your designated seats, and be considerate of others." The same message is repeated again in French, Russian and German. I felt movement beneath me as the train began to accelerate; a few minutes later we're moving at top speed. Drinks and food were additional costs, so I dismissed all of them. I sat in my seat and began reading my book, "Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep," halfway through the book I took a quick glance outside the window and saw London central in the distance. Then something felt wrong, at first I felt a slight deceleration in the train's speed, then the train stopped so abruptly the women across from me almost fell to the ground. People started to get up, and those who recovered from the shock began cursing and swearing. And just when one was swearing that he will go and beat the crap out of the conductor, the train was propelled forward like a rocket knocking down anyone still standing. More curses, and at this particular moment the announcer came alive, but it came out as a deep man's voice:

"This train is now ours. No one leaves their passenger cargo; those who wander off will be terminated immediately. If the trains slow down, we will start terminating hostages. I repeat terminated."

Terminated, killed what's the difference? I thought. But I remained quiet and unmoving as a mountain. Some gentleman begins to throw up a tantrum, something about putting a hole through whoever is behind this "mad show". But as soon as he said those words, two men wearing complete black overalls, with ski mask covering their faces stepped into view. Each one of them has a holstered Mp5, and a spare army knife at their sides. One of them stepped forward and pointed the gun at the gentlemen who was having a tantrum and said with a deep voice:

"Quiet down."

"Humph. You sons of b-!" before he can say another letter a hole through his head silenced him completely as he fell to the ground like lead. I was so shocked that for a moment everything in my mind went blank. The muffled noises of women crying, and I caught the blurry sight of couple grown men who peed themselves set the stage. It was that moment I decide to put things into my account. I put on a stony expression, as both my fist clenched white at my side.

"Put your hands where I can see them or else!" the terrorist waved his gun at us, but the thugs feet remained glued. More screaming expressions from the passengers I looked down and remained silent, as I slowly begin to slip my right hand into my right breast pocket.

"You! Stop where you are!" said the tall one as he trained his gun at me. My hand instantly froze in place. And I looked up slowly.

"What's in your pocket?" he asked with a muffled voice through the ski mask.

"Come see for yourself," I challenged.

"Don't make me check your dead corpse for It." he said, as he made a loading sound with his gun.

"Very well then." Instead of reaching for my breast pocket that contained my gun I reached for the left one instead, I felt the chain and pulled it out very slowly, until its magnificent golden brim cold brim made contact with air. It was a pocket watch, a very unique and special pocket watch. I let it dangle in the air for a moment as it radiant gold light reflected from the sun, shine across the room.

"Put it on the ground slowly and kick it to us." I could already sense a greedy smile behind their ski mask.

It seems that they were only robbers after all. Making them think that I am completely in their control, I begin bending down and let the watch spin a few times. Their smiles were getting wider now, and I knew that the moment once they got the watch would be the moment they decided to kill me. But I wasn't planning on dying, in fact I was planning on more than saving my own life, I am planning on how to regain control of the situation. The pocket watches about an inch away from the ground, and at that moment I tiled my wrist at a precise angle, flashing a beam of light across their ski mask. And at that very moment I let my pocket watch drop and reacted with lighting fast speed for my gun pocket. Like I thought, they were blinded momentarily by the beam and before the watch can even hit the ground, I already had my hand on the holster of the gun. I poised, aim and pulled the trigger, not once but twice, each bullet disarming both thugs firearm hand. As my pocket watch hits the ground and so do they with agonized scream of pain. There was a moment of unbelief in the passenger cargo and all in one union they let out a collective cheer. Some shredded tears, strangers hugging strangers. Some humbling a quite prayer. In the midst of that I bent over again and picked up my watch as if it was a little hurt animal. I got a hanker chief from my right pocket and begin rubbing the dust off from it. Luckily there weren't any cracks on it, which is something I could thank God for. I put it back into my pocket genteelly turned and faced the crowd around me.

"Thank you!" said a man in a suit.

"You are a living messiah!" said an elderly woman.

"What do we do with the thugs?" asked an old man.

I turned and looked at the thugs, who were now rolling over in their own blood.

"Perhaps you could tie them up. I need to go check out the other passenger cargo." They were reluctant to let me go, but I put on that same expression that says "I dare you" and which none of them dared. Then without further hesitation, I went into the next passenger cargo.

I cleared out the thugs in the passenger cargo, but not those in the premium lounge which is always in the front. Even with the efficiency of disarming each terrorist with 1 bullet; by the time I reached the door of the premium lounge I down to one bullet. As I expected the door was guarded by one of the thugs; so I stood behind the corridor to listen to the details: his breathing, heartbeat, essence... I looked at the reflection of him through the glass panel on the side, anticipating every single bit of his muscle movements. I took out my pocket watch again. I held it out with one hand over the corridor, keeping the rest of my body out of danger. With the same trick I pulled off previously, except this time not even bothering to take out my gun. I charged in a zigzag, a surprised gasp came out from the thug. Within a second he was within arm reach, I shoved a fist right into his solar plexus and spun behind him, one arm around his neck, the other disarming his firearm hand. He kicked and thrashed around, so I stepped in front of him and drove a back elbow strike to his stomach. Then he fell to the ground, lurching over. I knocked on the steel door and like I thought it was bullet proof and could only be open by a scan of a certain card. I grabbed the thug, who wasn't quite dead, since I never intended to kill a single of them. I picked him up by the collar and pointed my gun at his head.

"Open the door."

"Not in a million years. You ba-" I didn't let him finish as I opened the safety lock on my pistol.

"Don't make me search your dead corpse for it," my words made it sound final, which made his facial rigid. With my gun trained at his head, he produced a card from his breast pocket carefully. I snatch it away from him, it looked like he was about to say more so I slammed the butt of my gun at the back of his neck knocking him out. I swiped the card against the scanner. The door opened and I was not prepared for what I saw inside. A trio of terrorists stood beside a young man, seemingly in his twenties.