Alone in the dark investigation room, heart beating like a desperate little fist in his chest, L's eyes gaped at the monitors, showing footage of roads, cars, and buildings speeding past the cameras on the police cars. Though one would have thought the man was made of stone, inside L was seething.
They had made a mistake in not immediately going after Misa. One other failure in judgment, adding to the pile he had made regarding Kira. L had been a fool; preoccupied with stupid emotions of betrayal, anger, grief, rejection, all things he always thought held people back, and which he had carefully avoided all his life.
After standing on the rooftop, watching the Bell 412 helicopter he ordered from the Japanese Coast Guard to transport Light grow into a small black speck in the gray sky, taking the boy away from him forever, he came back to the investigation room and noticed something was wrong. He hadn't seen or heard from Rem in hours, his mind having been completely wrapped around Light like the spurned idiot that he was. Without wasting any more time, he had sent the task force to search for the white shinigami.
It hadn't taken them long to confirm what he had suspected. Rem was nowhere in the building. She had gone to warn Misa.
Mentally cursing himself, he first barked his desperate orders to the task force, then over the cyber line to the NPA to head for Amane Misa's apartment ASAP. He also knew he could die. They could all die, right that very moment. This had to be done carefully but quickly. Who knew what Misa might convince Rem to do?
Sitting crouched on his desk chair, curled over his drawn knees, he normally would run his thumb over his lips and rub his toes together impatiently, but feet and hands where both numb now, left with a cold tingling similar to the unpleasant feeling in his gut, coming from the pure dread of knowing any minute could be his last.
Finally, he saw the tall, lustrous façade of Misa's apartment building approach in the gray screen. It was a bit difficult to get a clear image with the drizzle and the windshield wipers crossing the view back and forth. But he didn't need perfect sight to see the distant figure of a blonde woman run out the front of the condo with a tall man next to her. She bumped into a teen boy wearing a cap and parka, almost threw him down on the wet sidewalk, to get to the third car parked in front of the building. A sleek, black foreign sedan. The man got into the driver's seat while Misa flew into the passenger's.
The police were seconds too late. No sooner did the vehicle's engine roar to life then it sped off its narrow parking space, grazing the car parked in front of them, ripping its side view mirror, and almost crashing into another one running on the street.
L groaned. A car chase? It would attract attention. This was steadily becoming a messy situation.
His anger was slowly getting the better of him. This was all his own fault. He was not used to dealing with failure and that was perhaps his one weakness. Lesson learned a little too late: a little loss of control was sometimes a good thing. He had grown overconfident over the years and now he suffered the consequences.
L had dealt with Light childishly...too childishly, even for him. His ego had subtly overpowered him. Inexperienced with such offensive emotions, he had sought to make Light submit. In the end, he had given his enemy more power.
Regaining his bearings, he dialed Watari on his laptop. He needed a police helicopter and the old man strapped for sniping.
Misa trembled as she put her seatbelt on. She sensed that she would fall apart any given moment but steeled her mind and kept those feelings at bay. She had to keep it together or she wouldn't be able to save Light.
The rain pelting her window seemed to dwindle slightly and the sound was somewhat comforting in the quiet vehicle. Her driver didn't speak, didn't ask questions. He wasn't hired to know things or make conversation.
Thoughts rushed like a turbulent river through her mind, heart hammering against her chest. But worst of all, her stomach felt like a tumbling washing machine about to rise and flow out of her throat. Her slender fingers wouldn't stop moving on their own, and all the while she gasped for breath as if the terror coiled in her stomach like a snake was squeezing the air out of her lungs.
"Hey, keep it together," the man said, glancing at her. Gleb was tall and pale-skinned with black hair and strikingly blue eyes. He was Russian but spoke Japanese fluently. This was actually the first time they met, though she had paid him some time ago to move in close to her and remain on standby.
Misa dialed a number, a representative of TEX, a wire transfer company, answered and she gave her code, password and key phrase. After a few moments of confirmations, she flipped her cell shut and told Gleb shakily that the rest of the money was in. She used a Hong Kong bank account from where she sent the money with instructions to an intermediary service that forwarded her wire transfers anonymously so that neither the recipient nor anyone else would trace it, or get a hold of her identity.
Gleb, of course, knew nothing of her purpose or that she had something to do with Kira. His job was to transport people to safety and remain ignorant about everything else.
An internet friend, shit deep with the government after publishing classified information in a newsletter and now forced to live in hiding, had recommended Gleb when Misa had sent the person an email from a cyber cafe to ask about finding someone to help her leave Tokyo in an emergency. That L would finally cut his act with Light and overtly hunt them down had always been highly possible—and now it was reality. In spite her anxiety, Misa was profoundly glad she had taken the precautions.
Misa had always been into the occult, secret societies, encoded religious myths, government conspiracies, even before Rem came down and gifted her with the Death Note, and she liked to think her interests and way of life had molded her into a cautious and clever person, perfectly capable of protecting and supporting Light. Almost as if it were all meant to be.
Why did all these things come together so flawlessly? Because, Misa knew, felt it in the core of her very soul, Light was destined to succeed. With her.
Light…
Even though she guessed well what Gleb's answer would be, she just had to ask. "Are you sure the charge will be fine?"
"Vickie will be at the destination point waiting," he answered readily, probably used to dealing with uneasy people. "She'll get him out, get him safe. Stop worrying. We're heading for her safe house now. After that, I'm gone, we never knew each other. Clear?"
"Yes." She looked up into the sky from her window and thought that Gleb was lucky he couldn't see the black figure flying above them, red, glowing eyes and an ugly grin on its face.
The downpour blurred everything outside, buildings and sky, into gray shadows, but he could not hear it over the roaring of the rotor. His wrists and ankles bound in heavy chains, Light sat hunched in fatigue, squeezed tightly between two armed guards. One more sat in front of him. Their faces were half-shadowed under caps or helms, strapped in protective vests and assault rifles resting on their laps. Behind the guard in front was a protective glass dividing them from the cockpit.
These guys were military. Another favor L requested from the government. Or perhaps the government insisted on it. Kira had topped every other terrorist group on the planet.
He sensed it first before anything happened. All of a sudden he knew something was out of place. The sensation lingered heavily in the air. Some of the guards seemed to change, but Light could not detect any evidence of this. It appeared at first to be just a gut feeling, but it seemed that the trip was taking too long.
Then he saw it, a white specter flashed outside the chopper under the lightning. A pair of yellow, baleful eyes appeared in the windshield in front of the pilots, but only Light could see them.
At that moment, his fatigue was lifted, heart stammered with joy at the sight and he laughed.
Only one guard stirred at this. The one sitting in front of him.
"What the hell is so funny?" the man snarled. This one had yet to notice his comrades have not reacted.
Light ignored him in favor of silently watching Rem emerge from the solid metal of the aircraft to get closer to him. The white shinigami was hovering right in front of Light when she began to dissolve into dust.
"In the end, Misa had to order you and still she is in danger. It would have been more merciful if you had just pretended it was your own decision, Rem," he jeered.
The yellow eyes glared at him coldly, unblinking and unfazed. "I do not care for your games, Light Yagami." She reached out a long hand and unfurled her spindly fingers, revealing a piece of paper, neatly folded and tucked in her palm. "A message from her… You will not be pleased with the end…"
Her once firm, thick voice trailed off, as she became a pile of dust on the helicopter's floor. The little strip of paper fell into his open palms lying face up on his lap before he closed them again.
Light cackled even after the guard pointed his rifle at him, demanding who the hell he was talking to.
The guard sitting next to him began to unchain his wrists, and the one on the left unlocked the cuffs at his ankles. Their black eyes were dead.
Rem hadn't had time to write all the guards' names in her Death Note apparently. He was surprised she had time to write four names as well as specific actions, but he figured Misa had probably written the actions. Rem's only task was to write as many names as possible in the blank spaces.
Light would have to do something about the remaining guard and he would have to think fast. That rifle pointed at him could spoil all Misa's efforts.
He glanced down at the black, sleek notebook on the floor next to the mountain of ash, and then at the slip of paper in his hand. On it, Misa's bubbly scrawl read: Over the Arakawa at Kawaguchi. I'll be there to catch you.
Light smiled, feeling victorious already. Misa had escaped.
The guard that had been spared shouted at his comrades, not knowing at whom to point his weapon or whether the other guards had turned dirty. He waved his gun about, confused and desperate. Light sat disarmingly still and looked at him. Upon catching the shocked man's eyes, he gestured at Rem's death note lying directly in front of him. "Look, there's something there," he said calmly, fighting back a wild grin.
The man reluctantly turned away from the detainee to glance at the notebook.
"Wha…what is that. How did it get here?" The man knelt down to pick it up. He shouldn't have. Light would soon be completely unbound. Consternation could make certain men forget their training.
Light watched him carefully, prepared for what was to come. He saw one gloved hand detach itself from the large gun and reach for the death note. He watched the grip on the notebook soon grow slack, the man's eyes widening as he noticed the huge pile of dust materialize out of no place his logic could trace, and the notebook slide from his gloved hand. Light wasted no time and kicked the ashes into the man's face. Falling back with a sharp cry, the guard tried to brush the grains out of his stinging eyes, his weapon hanging uselessly from its straps.
At the same moment, the last locks on Light's chains were opened and the guards flanking him began to convulse, their hearts failing. Light snatched one of their assault rifles, leaned close to the body because of the straps, and aimed it at the remaining guard, who was quickly abandoning the task of brushing off the dust from his eyes to point his own rifle blindly at Light.
All too late because Light fired first with amateurish freedom and the desperation of hitting his mark for the first time. It was over in seconds. Light gasped for breath as he looked at his handiwork—the mess. He felt repulsed, free, relieved, ecstatic. Powerful.
It was his first time shooting a gun, and even though he calculated well, the force of it beneath his hands surprised him. The man slumped, sitting on the floor, back against the seats behind, his face literally a bloody, cavernous, dripping pulp. Crimson splattered all over the seats and walls.
All three guards were dead.
The fatigue returned full force and Light sat back, letting loose a long sigh, the assault rifle clattered over the floor. Rest, however, would have to wait. He stood back up with a groan, crossed the space and peered through the fence into the cockpit. The pilots were being controlled by the death note, eyes blank, actions automatic, and their deaths insured by the end of the day.
Light turned back around and picked up the notebook. He flipped to the last pages that had been written on and saw there what Misa had planned. The first two lines were, "Flies to Kawaguchi, Saitama south-eastern border with Kita ward, slows over northern bank of Arakawa River near Kawaguchi golf course, between Iwatsuki Highway and Iwabuchi Red Sluice Gate and descends to 13 meters above water's surface. After, continues to fly west, until fuel runs out.
The pilots' names were written in different handwriting within the wide blanks left in the beginning.
The third line commanded the men whose names were written there to release him from physical bindings. And because Misa had no way of knowing who would be in the helicopter there where several blank spaces.
Light glanced over the pilots' actions again, before picking up the slip of paper that had fallen on the ground when he picked up the rifle.
Over the Arakawa at Kawaguchi. I'll be there to catch you.
Catch? Slows over the northern bank of Arakawa River…not stop. He had to jump into the river. L would track the helicopter, its course, where it stopped. This way, once police caught up to the chopper, they'd think Light was still inside until it ran out of fuel and crashed. Only L would know better but by then it would be too late.
Good thinking, Misa, he thought. She was proving to be very effective lately.
It didn't take long to see the Arakawa River emerge beyond the windshield; an endless, snaky body of dark gray fissuring what appeared from so high up to be blocks of cluttered buildings.
A minute later the chopper began to descend. Light studied the landscape carefully, looking for signs to indicate Misa's instructed destination.
Northern Bank of Arakawa near Kawaguchi golf course, between Iwatsuki Highway and Iwabuchi Red Sluice Gate…Light saw Iwatsuki Highway far ahead, behind a green field with a few, sparse trees contour the northern bank of Arakawa in a graceful curve. The field overlooked the juncture of three rivers that bordered, what he assumed were southern Saitama Prefecture and northern Kita ward. Shakujii and Arakawa rivers were divided by a triangular strip of land. The strip's beak pointed south-east and ended where the smaller Sumida River branched off from Arakawa.
Across Sumida was a blue sluice gate. Slightly more upriver between the strip of land's beak and a small island near the southern bank of Arakawa was a red sluice gate. The chopper seemed to head straight for the green field with the scarce trees on the opposite side, between the highway and the bright red sluice gate. Kawaguchi golf course.
The instructions couldn't be more clear.
The water began to ripple furiously as the chopper neared its surface, but it did not stop moving forward and it was still pretty high. The highway was much closer now and soon the chopper would need to ascend again. He had to hurry. Light slid the heavy door open and icy autumn winds blasted on his face, sweeping up his hair. He wasn't too far off the field, but he would have to swim a little. Death note in one hand, he did not hesitate to jump.
That had been one of his worst experiences. The drop, the seconds that ran forever as his stomach seemed to take a flight up to his chest, and finally, without warning, the blast of freezing water tearing through his skin. Light lost his hold on the death note during the impact, and once he burst to the surface, gasping and sputtering, he looked around frantically for it.
"Shit!" he cried. He was about to dive back in when he saw it float a few feet away, barely made it out in the rain. Sighing with relief he went to grab it.
Once it was safe in his hands, he swam towards the golf course. In the downpour, it was hard to see, but he could still make out a person's silhouette standing on the bank, waiting.
Piloting the chopper, L looked below and finally spotted the car running at high speed down the highway and hurried to get closer. He already made the order to have a blockade set up. The radios were announcing drivers on the highway to take the next exit or veer to the side and remain standing until further notice. There was the odd vehicle still running, but the danger had decreased considerably, leaving Misa vast room, but giving the cops greater momentum as well.
This looked much like the other night with Higuchi. Did this girl have to die too? The idiot was getting off with an incredibly light sentence for her crimes but apparently she would rather risk it all. For him. Always came back down to him. The sudden sympathy he felt for her only made L angrier.
Something terrible happened then. L could see the blockade of police cars ahead. The black sedan was not slowing down. It showed no sign of being affected by the enormous obstacle ahead. It ran straight ahead at one-twenty miles per hour. Too fast. The free room on the highway had given them free rein in speed.
Is she going to kill herself?!
L swore under his breath. He was getting closer, close enough to stop her. "Watari, shoot the tires! Now!"
He had to keep the chopper a little to the side, not directly behind the vehicle, for Watari to be able to see it without the nose of the chopper getting in the way. But they were in range and that was what mattered.
Watari shot. Two tires popped, the rear window exploded—the chopper wasn't in a good position for the sniper. The car swerved violently, skidded sideways, but it had been doing 120 and now slid down the street too fast. It was going to crash hard against the blockade.
L watched cops run out of the way. Misa's car rammed into police vehicles, metal flew up into the air and her sedan flipped over the line of cars, scratching rooftops, tearing off sirens. It landed on its roof at the other side of the blockade, skidding round and round.
When the car stopped, about five yards from the blockade, it tipped precariously on the edge of its roof, wavering between landing on its top or side. It fell back on its top and finally stilled. The chase had come to an end.
L saw a few news channel helicopters in the air fly around the scene like hungry vultures. What a pain in the ass. He landed his chopper on the other side of the wreck and sent a helmed Watari out to investigate the damage.
Sitting, unable to leave the safety of the chopper and investigate with his own eyes, the unbearable wait, and the news reporters in the air worsened his mood. He pulled a knee up, propped his elbow on it and sighed into his open palm.
What a horrid mess. It was all his fault. He shouldn't have slept with Light.
L let his desire for the boy, both for the touch of his skin and his submission to blind him. Kira was a mischievous child that needed to be put in his place. But L had acted no better and used his own emotions, his anger, and despair in a stubborn effort to dominate Light. But the boy's submission had been deceptive, false. Gave L only the illusion of a having gotten what he wanted it.
All he had gotten out of that stupid night was this: a huge fucking mess. L suddenly felt he aged ten years.
Closing his eyes, at that moment he made a vow to mature. L realized that his self-centered ways were not as useful as he used to think back when he was alone. Things have changed. Working face to face with good men like Soichiro and the guys. Developing a hesitant fondness for Light—back when the boy had been different, had a mind free of Kira. The fun, inane banters with Misa. Amusing himself with bullying preciously gullible Matsuda. The enlightening arguments with Aizawa that led him to see the more vexing habits of ordinary men in a new light. The welcoming comfort and support sturdy, loyal Mogi filled the task force with.
L's immaturity and greed brought only grief to these people he'd come close to. As aged as he felt that moment, he realized how young he had been until then. Overconfident. It was time to man up.
L watched them take the blonde woman and the dark haired man out of the crumbled sedan and lay them on the ground. They didn't move. The task force looked them over.
"What the…!" cried Aizawa. They were wearing helms but L could tell who was who by their movements. Aizawa-san was on one knee by Misa's right, a hand resting on a raised knee, elbow up.
"No way!" shouted Matsuda, no doubt the one on both knees on Misa's other side, moving his head up and down the girl's prone form, looking her over as if this would help him find the answer.
"This isn't her!" Soichiro announced, standing over them.
L sat up, both feet on the floor, leaning stiffly over the control panel. "What do you mean, Chief Yagami? Explain." It had never been so hard to keep his voice from shouting before. He knew the answer, hit him like a hard slap.
"This isn't Amane-san. An unidentified Japanese female and male. They're dead…Ryuuzaki, she's a diversion. We were chasing the wrong girl!"
L stood stiff, gaping at the scene. That was not Misa. She had tricked him. Of course. She had been free for a few days, had time to come up with something, or maybe she had prepared this long before she lost her memories of being the second Kira.
L had underestimated her.
Slumping forward, he buried his face in his was too much chaos in his head; he needed to review step by step and organize what his brain had stored.
He needed to know what the hell just happened!
How could he have not seen through this ruse? How had he been so easily duped by this girl?
He knew why. He'd been too distracted by emotions. Half his mind had been on Light. Always back to him.
They would have to go back to her apartment and turn the place over. Find clues to what her plans might be. Where she might go.
"Ryuuzaki, did you hear?" asked Soichiro.
"Yes, yes I did." What else could he say? Sorry, didn't see that one coming, my mistake? He was L. L didn't lead his men on a goose chase and apologize after. But he had. It left him speechless.
Just then Watari's voice cut through his thoughts. He sounded alarmed. "Ryuuzaki! Tokyo Prison just called me. Light has not arrived. The chopper veered north-west, they're tracking it now."
"…"
"Ryuuzaki, did you hear?"
The once formidable mind of the greatest detective in the world was reduced to a single, global expression of distress: Fuck!