AN: All of the World belongs to Rosabell, who kindly let me adopt the story. The original can be found in her profile and there will not be major changes in the 17 chapters that I will be re-uploading. I will try my best to deliver high quality writing. Please be patient with my updates since I have lots on my plate.
Disclaimer: I do not own Card Captor Sakura or the first part of All of the World.
Chapter One
Silence hung heavily in the interior of the car, although the engines muttered noisily. It was a grim silence, that of repressed fear. Kinomoto sat to the left with her arms folded across her chest, exuding a feeling of doom. Her lips were stretched in a thin line, almost white with rage, and her eyes seemed to glow with a feral yellow—a sharp contrast to their normal dark emerald.
Gears shuddering, the car screeched to a halt. She tugged at the door and pushed abruptly, stepping out before the car fully stopped. With one motion she pulled out her gun, cocked it, and fired. All around, the Chinese screamed, covering their heads as if that would shield them from the bullets.
She would like to shoot every one of them at the moment, but there were only so many bullets available, and their main targets were the running Communist fiends. The men who rode in the car with her and from the cars behind her quickly exited the cars. They assembled around her, taking their positions.
"Come out come out, Mr. Li." Kinomoto smirked, her fair features distorting into something terrible to look at. "You have nowhere to hide. I promise, if you come with us nicely, we'll leave the rest of your pathetic kind in this building alone. Otherwise," She tilted her head to the sergeant next to her, who waved at his men, "We will blast this entire building into the rubble that it is."
The church was completely empty, which was unusual, for in such times when unrest coiled the air and every coming day brought news of loss and despair, most people tend to turn to the only thing they still had faith in. The Christians in this land were few, but those that followed the faith attend mass diligently, and often, on days like today, several could be found, praying to whatever higher force there was for salvation. The fact that no one was here boded well. Briefly, Li wondered where the priest was, or minister, or whatever handled this particular building for there did not seem to be any sign of life in the empty hall.
"That bitch." He whispered, tearing a piece of his cuff off. He turned to his wounded comrade. "Here, let me look at that."
"Get off, you!" His comrade, Wang, scowled at him. "It's nothing!"
"You're bleeding like hell, you dumbass!" Li spat back. "Now cooperate or else I'll have to cut this damn thing off!"
"I'll count to three, Mr. Li," Kinomoto called from outside. It was such a nice day, she reflected. She was eager, actually, to see dust in the air and blood on the ground, but the Chinese had such an abominable sense of honor. She was willing to bet these communist rats would surrender just to save their poor, pitiful civilian-fellows. "If you do not come out by then," She turned and smiled. The rocket was ready. "This building will be the new test subject."
"Shit!" Feng hissed, turning to the two. "They have a rocket!"
Li cursed as well.
"We'll never make it out in time!"
"One!" Kinomoto's voice echoed outside.
"Here, give me a hand," Li ordered, and Feng lifted Wang's wounded arm. Wang bit his lip, his forehead dotted with sweat, at the pain jarring his arm.
"What the hell are you doing?" Feng asked as Li grabbed his gun.
"It's called decoy. You go take him back to headquarters while I distract them."
"What, are you fucking kidding me? They'll kill you!"
"Two!"
"Yeah, well, no reason for you to go down with me."
"But sir!"
"God damn it, you son of a bitch, take Wang and go!" And with that, Li burst out from the side.
"Shit!" Feng hissed, but he pulled at Wang, who gasped in agony. "Hurry up! Damn it!"
Li saw the rocket. It was easy to spot, and of portable size. The men were actually still assembling it, so when Kinomoto shouted "Three!", they did not fire it. He cocked his gun and shot six times in quick succession. He was fast enough that the Jap barely had time to realize where the sound was coming from before he took out the two men assembling the rocket, two men flanking Kinomoto, another random soldier—who cared who they were, a dead Jap was a good Jap—and Kinomoto's hat. Unfortunately he only ruined her hat, apparently missing her head. He ducked back against the wall as the rain of bullets fired past where he had been. They might react slow but the retaliation came with interest.
Fucking Japanese. He thought with hatred, though he did not allow himself to dwell on it. He was cornered. He could hear them bursting into the church from the front entrance, which meant he could not go back inside to make sure that Feng and Wang made it out with the documents. He could only hope they did. Well, they better. Else he would kick their asses.
He quickly ran his options through his head. The church was on a block, with a high wall encircling the sides and the back separating it from other houses. There was no real way for him to scale the walls—they were all too high and steep. By this time, he imagined, the Japanese soldiers would have had the place surrounded. He was only kept safe, for the moment, because of the strange shape of the wall, which made it difficult for the Japanese to shoot him, but made it easy for him to snipe them. The odds, though, were not in his favor. He ducked out, shot again, bringing down three men, before ducking back again. A bullet whizzed by his ear—a very close call, but not one he was stranger to.
He looked up. Soldiers had a tendency to never look above their heads, something the Chinese militia took advantage of. There was a ledge, sure enough, but he could not see what was above it. Sensing that they thought he was giving, he darted out and fired a few more shots, just to keep them back and earn himself some extra precious seconds. He got one in the head, with some satisfaction—the said soldier instantly collapsed, blood exploding from his head like a fountain. A dead Jap was a good Jap.
Kinomoto swore, eyes blazing. She aimed her gun, but the Li scoundrel had gone out of range yet again. Oh she had heard stories of this rascal alright, it was said that he had the eyes of a hawk and his shot was as true as the Chinese were filth. His earlier bullet had nearly taken her head off—she supposed she only had the gods to thank for that.
"I want his head!" She cried, her wrath unfolding like a tidal wave. "I want him—I want him screaming!"
"Hai!" The men cried, hurrying to carry out her orders.
He could scale the wall to the ledge, Li decided, as he looked up. He could scale the distance to the ledge, whatever it led to. He just hoped it was not a window, if it was the people inside could see his silhouette and all hell would break loose. Well, he was probably going to die anyway, so what did he have to lose? He jumped and climbed up before coming face to face with a statue of an angel.
"Fucking whites," He exclaimed, because he had been startled. He thought that the statue was another one of those soldiers. "Crazy bastards!"
He glanced up. There was another ledge, a smaller one, on top, upon which sat a statue of yet another angel. He could get up there too. Wasting no time, he climbed, swinging his body over. He sensed movement below. The Japanese were checking his hideout, now that he stopped shooting. He was losing time. He glanced up again. Window.
Crap. He cursed mentally. He was stuck here. They did not have a good shot at him from below, but if they do decide to release that rocket, he had no chance.
Wait—the rocket.
Idiots. Li thought with some relish when he looked over to note that the ignorant soldiers had left the rocket completely unattended. And their cars, too! What luck—this bunch was not that smart after all. He could see the soldiers through the glass—they were hoping he was still in there. Well, their downfall.
With a jump, Li landed on the ground and rolled to relieve the shock of the impact on his body. He darted to the rocket. It was already assembled nicely for him. Smirking, he flicked the switch, pulled the lever, and then darted to the car as the rocket sailed through the air, hissing as it went. The keys were still in ignition, just waiting for him to turn them. He jumped into the vehicle, not bothering to close the doors. As the explosion sounded behind him, he slammed his feet on the gas pedal. With a screech, the tires spun with enough speed to make dust collect around the vehicle before speeding down the road. Behind him, the church burst into flames and crumbled into debris.
About ten minutes later, a dust-covered Kinomoto rose from the rubble with the help of her men. Her nose was broken and her uniform was torn and bloody. Blind rage fought to expel from her chest, but she swallowed it—like a proper Japanese woman, not like those whiny Chinese whores who thought people actually felt sorry for them. One of the men offered to patch her nose. She allowed this without a comment, and it was done promptly. Once her nose was properly realigned, she waved at the sergeant.
"Have some of your men stationed here." She said. If that Li bastard thought he was going to get away with this, he had another thing coming. "The Communist Party never learns—teach them the consequences of their rebellion. Until nightfall, I want every of these Chinese rats within seeing-distance from this church shot down. Report to me when this is done."
She walked calmly to the cars. Her expression did not change when it was obvious her own car was missing. Instead, she slid into the seat of another car and drove off—followed by the echoed screams of young Chinese couples, groans of elderly Chinese men, and gurgling of young Chinese infants as blood began pooling the streets.
Yoshi . . .
The Chinese were only good for shooting at.