Introductions part 1 - Deliver us from evil

It was a hunt, same as usual, Michael coordinating, the others hunting. It was all going smoothly, Michael was just starting to relax slightly, when suddenly, everything went to hell.

"Amon! He's running! He's running! Down towards Walled City" cried Takahashi suddenly over the radio

"Shit! Can you reach him?"

Michael cut in, with his access, he could see what was going on

"Takahashi, Doujima! You're closest. Break off and go after him. Doujima, take Garden Road. Takahashi, you take Halley. Go, you need to get to the intersection before he does!"

They ran, he could see them on his screen. Suddenly, he realised that Doujima was much slower, this was not going to work.

"Doujima! MOVE!" He screamed, but it was too late.

She could not catch up, he realised. Takahashi was nearly there, the witch was turning to meet him, and Doujima was not there. The others were too far away to help. It only came down to who was fastest now, Michael watched with horror. He could not raise Takahashi on the comm, there was interference, the others were running, but they were too slow, everyone was too slow. He could see in his mind's eye the two men, hunter and hunted. Takahashi would raise his gun, but then a bust of static cut through Michael's earpiece. He winced, the sound, that sound, was the sound of power. He heard a gunshot fire, then, the worst moment

"Michael" the voice came over faint

"Takahashi, I'm here" the boy replied, sensing what had happened.

"He got me, I'm bleeding. It hurts, oh God it hurts."

"The others are on the way. Hang on." The only words of comfort Michael could think to give, they sounded shallow even to his ears.

"Oh God, forgive me." Wailed Takahashi down the comm.

Doujima began screaming down the radio, and Michael guessed it was bad. But it was the dying man's final words that chilled him to the bone. In a whisper, barely audible over the sound of Doujima's screams, he could hear Takahashi, who must have found the strength somewhere deep within him.

"Our father, who art in heaven. Hallowed be thy name, thy kingdom come, thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread" his voice was failing now, he was desperately struggling to get the words out, and Michael, never a religious person, though he had been brought up in a Christian family, found himself whispering along too

"and lead us not into temptation but deliver us from evil."

The man fell silent, and Michael whispered,

"for thine is the kingdom, the power and the glory, for now and forever. Amen."

He had no idea where it came from, the prayer had been buried deep inside himself, but he said it anyway. For one moment he felt peace, then the horror of what had happened hit him. He had ordered a man to his death. Him, Michael, not yet fifteen, had sent a man to his death. Through thoughtlessness. It had never occurred to him that Doujima would not be as quick, it had never crossed his mind. And now a man lay dead because of it. He punched the desk, then stood up, kicking his chair, knocking it over then kicking, again, again, again, hearing splintered wood and snapping fabric. He raged at himself, he was furious. He hadn't noticed the tears start to fall, he was just too angry.

The others did not come back to the office. Once the mess had been cleared up, the witch removed by Factory and Takahashi's body taken away by SOLOMON operatives, they went off to deal with the incident in their own way. Karasuma went home for a drink. Amon paced the streets all night, furious at himself for being in the wrong place. Doujima went home too, she was deeply shaken by it all, so she did what she usually did to deal with horrible situations, she spent lots of money online in various designer stores, using the excitement of her purchases to assuage her guilt. Michael, with few means of escape, sat exhausted after his outburst, then, hiding the broken chair, he set to work fixing bugs in his code, simply to avoid thinking. He numbed his brain with C, it was the only way he knew to stop the pain and the frustration he felt.

The funeral was held a week later. Zaizen agreed to let him out for it, and so he ended up being driven to the Christian church sitting between Karasuma and Amon who had been instructed to keep an eye on him. At the church he sat at the back and tried to look inconspicuous, Amon had leant him a white shirt, Hattori a black tie, and both were too big. No one had trousers that would fit him, so he was wearing his usual cheap cargo pants, and Zaizen had instructed him to keep his collar visible, probably to keep the tracking system working at maximum efficiency. He felt the disapproving looks of the presiding minister on him, and the odd looks thrown his way by Takahashi's family. He felt increasingly uncomfortable as the service drew on, feeling oddly out of place, repressing the strange urge to flinch whenever he heard a strange noise. Sitting sandwiched between Hunters in the car on the way home, a realisation began to slowly dawn on him, settling itself into a cold, hard lump in his stomach. He had been imprisoned for six months now, and he was becoming less and less comfortable with the outside world. Much later that night, when the others were long gone, he sat surfing the internet, looking for pictures of the outside world. He had almost succeeded in convincing himself that his discomfiture had been brought about by the funeral, but the lump in his stomach remained, the feeling that he was slowly acclimatising to this life, that freedom was escaping him. He thought about this for a long, long time, staring out into the dark, watching the moon make her slow procession across the night sky. Eventually though, as dawn broke over the cityscape, his pragmatic side won out. What use was there in dreaming of freedom when freedom was an unobtainable ideal?

Somehow, Takahashi's death became some kind of watershed for the whole team. For Michael, he learnt the realities of the STNJ , and began to see his role more clearly within it. He also felt the inevitabilities of his constrained life, and was finally able to settle to it and to stop fighting. He still needed to work on his own projects, but not with the same desperation as before. He was gradually realising that he could not maintain himself without integrating the STNJ into his life, that to try, would be to court insanity. He began to interact with the team, speaking to them casually, as well as during briefings. He began to rebuild his own personality, brightening the office up, just a little bit, with his previously hidden, optimistic side. But he never forgot how his lack of planning caused a death.

Doujima realised the value of the team, and that family and money sometimes cannot protect against disaster. She realised that, had she trusted Michael, Takahashi may have survived, and slowly she began to treat the boy with more respect. She would never like him, she still did not think that Zaizen should have brought him into the STNJ, but she did begin to respect his skills. She even brought him the odd bits of clothing and food. She could never bring herself to apologise, but then she was giving peace offerings, and Michael recognised that, even though he could never like her, he could begin to stop hating her.

Amon became the official team leader after Takahashi's death. Always reserved and stoic, he built up more barriers between himself and the team. Michael watched him recede from the group. He had always been wary of the Amon; in the very depths of night, when exhaustion overtook him, he still experienced nightmares of a black-gloved hand, a snapping neck, a complete paralysis, waking up, unable to move for just that split second of sheer terror. Whilst they were fading with each passing night, they left Michael with a residual feeling of deep unease towards the leader. However, he no longer believed Amon invincible or impenetrable, no matter how high the barriers between Amon and the team were built. For it was Michael, who, late at night and under Kosaka's explicit instructions, would delete Amon's traffic violations from the police computers. Michael knew that speed, petrol and danger were Amon's weaknesses.