Disclaimer: Mr. Tsugumi Ohba created Death Note. Original characters are mine.

-

Part 2 - Intrusion

Misa Amane was worried. Her friends had always told her in no small terms that she was a difficult one to worry, bubbly and optimistic to a fault about even the worst of life's aspects. But here was something she had only heard about on about a million TV dramas. How suprising that the reality of it was harder to deal with than she had guessed.

Her boyfriend Light had stalked into their residence around 1:30 looking pale. He didn't want breakfast. Didn't even want to talk to her, and eventually went so far as to imply physical punishment if she'd continued her repeated attempts at cheering him up or getting some food into the boy who was supposed to be her fiancee-to-be. So instead she had simply waited, slumped outside his locked door, waiting to see what happened.

She deserved to know that much at least. Was she not, after all, the one who had been writing all of Light's targets in the Death Note for him? What could have possibly happened that could vex her Light Yagami? As she had seen again and again and again, her boyfriend was a genius. He'd set plans into motion over the past few months she didn't understand even after he'd explained them to her, step by step. The young model had long since made up her mind that knowing the complete truth wasn't something she needed to do. All she had to do was maintain complete faith in Light, and do whatever he asked of her. Light would take care of everything that needed to be done. Reality had quickly become nothing in the face of this implacable mantra.

All the same, it was so hard to watch him in this state and be unable to do anything about it. If he'd only just clue her in a bit about what was going on... just a tiny little bit?

Muted sounds brought her back to the present. Light was watching TV in there, with the sound low enough so only he could make out what they were saying.

Thirty seconds later, unable to take crouching at the door anymore, she pulled it open to catch him hitting pause. "Light? Are you...?"

"-it is hardly the first time for THE GUILTY TO TRY TO CORRUPT OUR SAVIOR-"

Misa's hands instinctively flew to her ears as the noise soared beyond all comprehension. In the same instant Light forcefully grabbed her and pulled her in close. Not quite a passionate hug, but close enough to one that she melted in his arms as he whispered briskly in her ear.

"The Kira Task force was just now granted special permission to bug people's houses without permission. Even the homes of their agents. From now on until I say, we can't openly discuss the Death Note at home. You will not say ANYTHING about my being Kira. Understand?"

The boy's face betrayed nothing as he released her, but this time he wasn't in a threatening manner. Once he was certain she got it, he hit mute, silencing the incredible din of the blond man currently speaking at maximum TV volume.

"I just had to think for a while, Misa. I didn't mean to turn down breakfast."

It was enough. All smiles, she hopped up onto their bed next to him. "That's okay! Watcha doing?"

Looking back at the blond man frozen on the screen, Light resumed the tape. "Watching this man. Closely."

"How come?"

"Because he's one of a handful who still trust in Kira."

Given up? She was so confused. Why would people give up on Kira when she'd written every name Light told her? She'd even written the exact way those three criminals were supposed to die last night. Left arm, right arm, and head cut off; a departure from the usual method of leaving the space beside the time blank and thus causing symptoms identical to a heart attack fourty seconds after, but nothing they hadn't done before.

"His name is Bergan Duval. He held a public speech today imploring everyone to keep supporting Kira, even after the Daisuke family died."

Indeed, that seemed to be what he was doing now. Duval had a tendency to speak with large, showy gestures that showed off noticable muscles on his arms. Althought Light had hit the mute button so they could talk, the fact that he was clearly desperate to convince a dispassionate audience was not lost on Misa.

"I need to consider new options. Our red-haired friend isn't responding. Neither is anyone else."

That brought her up short. Their 'red-haired friend' was an older man named Maigas who ran a shipping company, who had privately offered the services of his entire fleet of trucks to Kira in gratitude for all He had done. That whatever was going on would be enough to make him renounce his loyalty to Kira...

"Why? Do you want me to-"

The glare he gave back was enough to convey that she'd said something completely out of line, but he dared not elaborate while the possibility existed they were under surveilance. Operating under the principles of maximum paranoia was part of what had gotten Light this far in his quest. "Kira doesn't kill the innocent, Misa. But now we're running out of options. We brought in Chiru Surotawa, one of Nejion's men, but he's not talking to us. He'll never talk to Interpol if he thinks his confession will help Kira."

She sat back, trying to make sense of the deliberately vague account of what had gone on at her boyfriend's work, now too afraid to talk further. Then, he did something that suprised her.

"I have an idea to get him, though. Are you up to it?"

He never did that. Always left it up to someone else since their memories of the Death Note had been restored. Well, whatever the reason it didn't matter; now was her chance to prove she wasn't dead weight in the big plan.

"Did you have to ask, Light?"

Satisfaction flitted across the man's face. Then, he put a cellphone- the special one with the vocal distortion- to his ear.

"Demegawa? This is Kira. I have a job for you."

-

Bergan Duval couldn't help but feel disappointed at the sight he'd been led to. This had been no ordinary tip, after all. That the address he'd been instructed to come to looked to be condemned for all intents and purposes naturally affected the regard in which he held the being he'd been so enthusiastically defending for an entire day with little result.

He might have been better off keeping his mouth shut. Now his show was off the air indefinitely and few people would dare to hire such a recognizable face. I'd defend our God as long as need be, but a guy's got to eat and sleep. It didn't help at all that he had yet to grow accustomed to common staples of the country's diet such as Ramen either. In the eyes of those he had sought to convince of Kira's righteousness, he was still just a gaijin to them.

Now, though, Duval could see the truth for himself, and learn if the stalwart faith he'd shown the outside world was justified. Had their God of Judgement in fact been nothing more than an extremely talented assassin all along? Either way, the excitement of finding out was beginning to override his initial dread as he swung the rusted warehouse's back door open and strode into the darkness.

A single ceiling lamp guided him forward through a milieu of cobwebs. Whoever had originally been using this place, they had been gone even before Duval had moved here to seek out Kira. As his eyes better adjusted to the dank, a horrible thought occured to him- what if this contact was a criminal, simply trying to remove the competition? A place such as this made the perfect hideout. A dozen men with guns could be watching him and he wouldn't even see them until it was too late.

Enough, he reprimanded. Letting the imagination run wild is worse than anything they can do to you. There's no turning back now.

Slowly, careful not to trip on unseen obstacles, Duval reached the dusty table beneath the lamp. Three objects awaited him; a small note of cyrillic font, a headset, and a black rag with a knot at one end. I may know what happens now. But best not to show it. He read the note:

Don't run; I'm watching you. Put on the headset and the blindfold.

-K

Knowing that hesitation would only lessen his chances of surviving the night, Duval quickly donned both, reducing even the ceiling lamp to a dim glow behind the cloth. Within seconds, the headset crackled to life and the same voice that had brought Duval here began to speak.

"I'm glad to see your faith in me was not merely an act, Mr. Duval. Since we don't have a lot of time I'd prefer to get down to business, but let me first ask you this- do you believe in me?"

Kira. Beside him, the lamp flickered. "O-Of course, God."

There was no sign of a microphone, but the other voice responded instantly, sharply over the headset. "I mean truly, honestly. I know full well that Demegawa only does it for the money and ratings, Omishori for the attention, Ushura for the power. Why do you, a foreigner from a country where Kira has little to no power, support me?"

Sweat clouded Duval's brow, but to show weakness now might be all the justification the voice needed to snuff out his life like any criminal. "I... It is difficult to convey in your talk. I am still learning the points."

"Go ahead then. I understand English perfectly."

Duval swallowed hard. "Because I understand what you are trying to do. To rid the world of the criminals and the corrupt. To create paradise. Five months ago, you killed a man in my home country. He was the descendent of nobility, who used his wealth and power to escape any penalty our underfunded justice system brought upon him. He was a child molester."

The words spilled forth, a disjointed mingling of Japanese and English, too fast for anyone to interpet until seconds later. But he wouldn't, couldn't, stop. Not after waiting so long for this chance. He would not cry in front of Kira no matter how heavy his eyes felt. It would be undignified.

"He... he did it to me when I was six years old. I knew other children that he violated. For years afterwards, I tried thinking of hundreds of ways to kill him that his bodyguards couldn't stop, that would be impossible to trace back to me or my family. But I could never go through with it. Then, you happened. Everyone said he died in the night from too much wine, but I knew the truth. I knew I had to find you, do whatever I could to help you."

Silence from Kira. Had he perhaps said too much? It only made sense for Kira to avoid placing confidence in overly emotional individuals, even those passionate about his goals. Deprived of nearly all senses, he waited in darkness for a response that seemed progressively less and less likely to come.

"I understand. I gave you vengence. My turn now. I contacted you specifically for two reasons, Duval. First, because I recognized you as someone who was loyal to the idea of my perfect world without being completely fanatical. Fanatics like Ushura all expect me to be able to solve all of their problems for them, blindly worshipping something they barely understand."

A slight nod was his only acknowledgement. Going into details on some of his less-scrupulous colleagues was a waste of time. Kira already knew all.

"Second, because of all my remaining followers, you alone possess combat training. I need your services in order to help redeem my name and undo the damage these chemical bombs have done."

The mental damage anyway. Nothing we do can undo the physical damage. "Whatever you need, God."

"Good. One more thing from you before we begin, then."

All at once, multiple sensory inputs caught him off guard. A splash of light from somewhere to the left of him. Sounds of a crying, begging girl being hauled into the room with him. And the cold steel of what could only be a gun being forcibly slid into his hands, then pointed in the direction of the crying.

"What...?"

"Please! Don't hurt me! I haven't done anything!"

"This girl is a traitor", the headset voice cut in, almost suceeding in drowning out the mystery girl's frantic pleas for mercy. "She attempted to infiltrate Demegawa's studio and steal information so that her master, Miguo Katamori, could track me down."

Comprehending, feeling a strong hand holding his arm straight so that it could only point at the intended target, Duval considered. "You want me to kill her."

"I need to be sure of you, Duval. Until recently people innocent of sin freely proclaimed their loyalty to me. But anyone can say that. Being willing to do what I do- to execute the guilty- is not so simple."

"NO! NOOOO! Please don't kill me, I'll do anything! ANYTHING!"

No choice. He's right. Only a scant few have the courage to do what he does. They are the only ones Kira can rely on.

"I never meant to help them! I only-"

The shot was suprisingly quiet. Duval only realized now that there must have been a silencer or something attacthed. It had also silenced the girl's screams, but apparently even this wasn't enough for Kira.

"Again, Duval. She's still breathing."

Again, he felt the noise rattle up the handle and into his arm. This time, with no hesitation. The other set of arms who had grabbed him poked his wrist, prompting him to release the crushing grip he'd held the weapon in. He still couldn't see anything but the dim glow of the lamp. Still felt so cold.

"Good work. Now, to the task I need you for. There's a hidden Interpol office on the top floors of a building just a short jog north of here; the only one with more than ten floors. They're holding a witness in there named Surotawa that could clear me of the impostor-Kira's killings. I need you to get him out of there."

Still off-center from what he'd just been forced to do, Duval stared into the darkness before responding. "What about security?"

"They have retinal scanners guarding the elevator and cameras watching the main floor as well as Surotawa's cell. But you're not going to be using the elevator. There's a briefcase underneath a bench near the building that contains everything you'll need. Combination is 264. Don't remove this headset until you're about to put on the helmet in the case; there's another microphone built into the helmet. I'll guide you from there. Leave the gun. You won't need it."

"How... how do you know all this?"

A dry chuckle came back to him. "What am I, Duval?"

-

Minutes later, long after Duval had left the premises of the warehouse, Misa Amane stood. It was still difficult to breathe properly, but she wanted Light to know she was alright. No response seemed forthcoming- he hadn't even turned the lights on. Annoyed, she ditched the oppressively heavy vest he'd had her wear and felt her way back into the spartan chamber Light had made their temporary headquarters. All this dust is gonna murder my hair...

Light was bent over a wooden crate, watching a live feed from a laptop. Without even looking up, he motioned for her to have a seat on a rusted barrel, intent on monitoring the vidcam in Duval's headset. The headset Light himself wore was unique in that it had a manual cutoff switch located in the left segment. The small blue light shining above the earbud seemed unecessary, but in this case it worked to remind her of when not to say anything that the headset might pick up.

"Well?"

Watching Duval find and unlock the briefcase, Light still didn't look up. "Well what?"

"Weren't you going to say something? You know, like 'good job there, Misa'."

"Fine. Good job. You had to force him to release his grip on the gun when you took it from him. He could've shot you for real if he wanted to then. You can't wear a bulletproof vest on your head."

Oooh...! Still such a cold, uncaring tone, only pointing out her mistakes. Why couldn't Light at least be more excited that things were going so well? "Well... he's a strong guy. He wasn't going to let go of that gun. Why didn't you just get someone else to do that part?"

"I told you before. The number of people I can trust to stay loyal to me has dropped immeasurably since these Kira-Bombs started."

Talk about a backhanded compliment. Still, she would take it for what it was. "Hee! Thanks, Light! So, what is he gonna do now?"

Light held up one hand to indicate quiet, and switched the microphone on as the vidfeed changed to roughly the same place as before, this time through the eyes of their pawn. He'd donned the large rubber helmet from the gear Demegawa had provided for them. Though it looked completely ridiculous, seemingly recycled from some 'Super Sentai' show the tycoon's studio produced, this one had had some modifications that allowed them to stay in contact with Duval as well as monitor exactly what he saw through the huge, insect-like eyepieces. Additionally, no camera would be able to identify him by hair or eyes while he wore the helmet- after investing this much time in ensuring that his new follower was loyal, Light didn't want Duval arrested for his trouble.

"Put on those suction cups and gloves, and take the rest with you in the pouch. Start climbing from the east wall; no one can see you from there."

"Now I know you're not a true God", the blond man deadpanned. "He wouldn't give me a helmet this cheesy-looking. I feel like a Martian in a B-movie."

"Is that a problem, Mr. Duval?"

"Not at all. Human you may be, but your cause remains pure."

"Good. Now shift over to the south wall when you reach the twelfth floor- there's a camera in the office on the east wall."

With that, Light flipped the set back to neutral and steepled his hands. "At least it isn't raining. But this was the only way to get past the retinal scan. And before you ask, Misa, any alterations to the retinal database are recorded for date and authority. Anyone who checked afterwards would know that I altered it."

"I wasn't going to say a thing", she protested, now idly looking back over the hundreds of names they'd written down in the remaining Death Note left to them over the months. Hard to believe these are all bad guys. But my Light always knows who's been bad and who's good, that's why he's so smart. "So he's going to get that handsome guy out of there?"

"Surotawa's a criminal, Misa. He uses those good looks of his to get young women into bed with him so he can rob them and kill them. But yes. I can't interrogate Surotawa properly so long as he's in Aizawa's custody. Normal methods aren't working on him. I need to find some other way to get him to talk."

"So... what will you do?"

Suprise toned his reply- Misa was rarely ever interested in his plans, and even rarer was the time when he felt like sharing details with someone so inferior to him. It had to be the fact that she had been made a direct part of his plans for the first time ever since L's death. Yes, that would do it. She's just bored. Or maybe...

"I've considered that. The problem is that Chiru Surotawa's background isn't entirely complete. I can't tell what would make him talk, only that he's against anything that would help Kira, like all the remaining evil people in this country. Just threatening to write his name in the notebook likely won't work, neither will promises that I'll spare his life. Not that I'd ever keep such a promise." On that note, he flipped the headset back over- Duval had finally reached the top floors where the secret office the Kira task force used was hidden. From Duval's eye cameras, they could see the place was just as Ide and the others had left it before Light had tasked them with tracking down more leads among criminals pertaining to the impostor-Kira. They wouldn't be back for another hour, at least. All the same, the faster Duval finished this and delivered Surotawa the better. Light did not hesitate even a moment before giving a new instruction after the completion of the old one. On the other side, the other man was equally efficent.

"There's a cutter in the pouch. Use it on the lock four windows to your left, one row up."

"Got it."

"Now, ease that one open slowly. Make sure you don't have any exposed skin when you step into the office." This precaution was not because Interpol's cameras were good enough to identify a man by skin, but because exposed skin vastly increased Duval's chances of leaving unwanted residue such as hair, fingerprints or sweat behind. Lord knew he had to be roasting inside that rubber mask.

"What about the cameras?"

"It's fine, they're not being monitored. No one will be able to tell who you are from the footage. Keep going until you see a blank gray door with a PIN pad next to it."

"Alright."

"Now enter the code 1893." Light bit back a smile at this bit of irony- using his own code would have been recorded just like the retinal scan... But this was actually Matsuda's code. The idiot actually wrote it down so he wouldn't forget. All I had to do was move the slip of paper he used out of his locker and into the lounge area, giving Duval an alibi as to why he knew the code. He sighed. It was a pity Duval couldn't steal Light's original Death Note out of the vaults while he was there, but such a thing required the PIN code of every remaining member of the Kira task force to be entered sequentially, as well as a retinal scan for each of them. No one was taking any chances with the one 'killer notebook' that L had managed to secure before his death.

The door finally clicked open and there he was. Chiro Surotawa, still dangerously handsome as Misa had said despite his having been held in the cell for nearly an entire day with minimal food and water. He might have been sleeping, but perked up instantly when the door opened. Blindfolded, just as Misa had been in that same cell and chair. "Who the fuck are you?"

"Only unbind his legs, and bring the ropes with you", Light cautioned. "Remember that he is a wanted criminal. Even if you're taking him out of there, he won't hesitate to attack you and make his own way out. Take him to the elevator, but only go down to the third floor."

"Right." Ignoring further outbursts from Surotawa, Duval did as he was told, being careful to maintain a strong grip on the older man's shoulder at all times. Though he was blindfolded and had his arms tied tight, some struggles were all part of the deal when his masked abductor refused to speak a word of where they were going or why. Twice, Duval took a stray kick to the knees without complaint, then they entered the elevator and his captive seemed to calm down, not even swearing as much or asking questions.

"Anything's better than that cell", he reasoned aloud. "As for where we're going, I guess we'll see. Won't we, Mr. Bug Mask?"

Off-headset, Light cursed. Over time, Surotawa's eyes had adjusted to the lack of light, so he could see through that blindfold well enough. He'd be able to see his face. Thankfully, this wasn't entirely unexpected. "Misa, it's late. You should go home now. Don't argue."

"But... ugh. Fine." Disappointed as she sounded, Light knew now it was all show; she would never directly disobey an order from him now. Paranoid of me to ever think otherwise- for a moment there I thought she might have been the impostor-Kira, trying to get back at me in some dumb way for neglecting her. But no, there's no way she'd ever be cunning enough to pull something like this, even if I cheated on her and never spoke to her again. The only danger she poses to me would be through her own stupidity. I can get rid of her any time.

Misa was gone. On the monitor, Duval had brought his captive to the maze of cubicles on the third floor and now simply waited for further instructions from Light, without a clue what to do next. This was no secret task force, but the workspace of an everyday company.

"Alright. First, you lock Surotawa in the broom closet so he can't run off. After that, there's several couches in the break room. Throw the cushions out of the west window onto the street, checking first to make sure no one's outside to see it."

When had this happened? When exactly did it become apparent that no one around him, not even L, was as clever as he? Before the Death Note had come into his life he'd been at the top of his class to be sure, but... he'd never really applied most of the knowledge. What was the use when the world around him had been so blatantly corrupted by greed? Perhaps that was it then. If others around him had an important task as the one he'd vowed to perform at the beginning of it all... if true justice was on the line... they'd be able to outwit those who spent their lives pursuing trivialities like attractiveness or money. Or perhaps Duval is wrong after all, he reasoned, perhaps in doing all of these things I have indeed transcended the label of mere 'human'. Is that my doing, or the Death Note?

"Now tie Surotawa's legs again with the rope and toss him out onto the cushions, then jump down after him."

No more self-questioning. Now that they were safely out of the building, it was about time for Light to find his own mask for the interrogation. Thankfully, Demegawa had provided an extra copy of the ugly bug mask Duval was currently wearing. With just a little elbow grease, he was able to get the headset beneath it so his words could be transmitted to both the other men once they put a headset on Surotawa.

Which left only one, final thing to take care of.

Touching its pages again sent an electric tingle through his arm. Though it was not- could never be- the same as the notebook Ryuk had given him, that familiar feeling, the rush at the potential power contained within the book, black covers and stark white lettering proclaiming destruction to all who stood in his way, his pen hovering like an immortal's scythe waiting to strike... it was almost exactly the same.

It's been a while. Hope I haven't lost the touch.

-

The initial queries had not proven fruitful.

As Light had expected, Chiro Surotawa hated Kira for killing so many of his colleagues, for driving the remainder into hiding futilely, and most of all for the power he wielded over all human beings. Worse, he was smart enough to recognize that his confession would help restore people's faith in their God. Cracking him was not going to be simple, but Duval and Light- both of them now masked- were willing to remain there all night if they had to.

"We already know the truth, Surotawa", Light started in again, his voice still distorted past all recognition. "All we need for you to do is admit what you saw. Qatada Nejion died from the shock of a lost arm, didn't he? There was no poison gas. He bled out all over the floor, we found evidence enough of that."

"Fuck you. Again."

Standing next to the criminal, Duval sighed. Light had warned him not to say anything revealing since they were now all connected by wireless headsets, but that didn't stop him from having to listen to the other man's rude denials. Perhaps I should've rearranged this setup, put Surotawa in a darkroom while we conducted things from in here. No helping it now.

"You know I can kill you on a moment's notice, but you probably haven't figured that I don't have to. Contrary to belief I am not entirely without mercy. Confess this one time, and I will consider you exempt from all your past crimes."

Surotawa actually laughed. "Gee... I didn't know that 'God' was a freakin' gestapo. How about this? You show up at a press conference and tell everyone your true name. When I see that happen, maybe, maybe I'll do what you're asking." 'Freakin' was not exactly the word he used.

Light's anger at this suggestion spilled through even the vocal distortion. "This isn't a game, Surotawa. The impostor Kira- the one you know exists but don't want to admit to- is completely indiscriminate. He might target your friends next."

"Whatever", the man shrugged. "Still better than what you've been doing. Angry that this guy's putting you of a job, pal?"

Almost got him to slip up there. If I can push a little harder...

"Come to think of it", he mused aloud. "I'd bet money that the impostor was a plan made by criminals to turn my supporters-"

"-and I'd bet money you're a damn cop", Surotawa interrupted snidely. "So go tell your buddies at Interpol it's over. You're done. No one's ever gonna trust you now."

Arrogant bastard...! Still, he's let on a bit more than he wanted. He is in on the impostor's agenda. And he's not really special in any way, so the impostor has talked with more than one criminal about his plan!

"A conspiracy amongst several of you then? Perhaps you are the creator of the 'Kira-Bombs', or one of the people who planted them. Either way, killing you might just hamper that plan."

Perhaps now realizing how Light had been playing him, the handsome crook struggled to get out of his chair, nearly knocking it over. "Just try it, you bastard! See what happens."

"Not yet, I think", Light countered, knowing he was close now. "You don't seem to care too much about your remaining buddies on the streets. But what about Mr. and Ms. Surotawa? Your sister, Akiha? I can kill them in less than a minute unless you do as I say."

He wasn't bluffing either. He'd already taken the precaution of remaining behind the large crate he'd first mounted his laptop on, keeping the Death Note hidden behind it along with the pen now clutched in his hands. The wireless computer had made it child's play to locate the names and faces of this man's family. The chances that Duval would see the Death Note and be able to deduce its purpose were as slim as he could possibly make them. Even if both of them had suddenly charged him there, Light had a gun; the one Duval had used on Misa. They had nothing.

Light smiled within his mask, confident that this bald-faced threat would at last bring forth the truth he so desperately sought... then ducked at the last second to avoid a good sized globule of spit Surotawa had hurled at him. Nonetheless, it still scored his shirt. Searing fury pounding through his temples, he took a moment to refresh his composure, and glared back at their insolent captive.

"I guess I was mistaken- you don't care for any of them. In fact, I think there's only one thing you truly care about at all in this world... take this."

The last two words were meant for Duval as Light tossed him a serrated knife. Only taking a moment to comprehend, the foreigner removed the blindfold and began lifting the sharp implement towards Surotawa's cheekbones.

Surotawa comprehended too, much to his own panic. "Wait. Don't do anything hasty here... I didn't mean it, I was just pissed off-"

"Start around his eyes. Go down to his chin."

Light would have expected most people to hesitate over this- hell, he might have when doing it the first time- but Duval didn't stop, only moving slowly to avoid cutting the man any deeper than he wanted to.

"No... no... NO!"

Pleasingly, Duval stopped cutting without even being told to. He knew the dramatic timing needed, just as he knew that they'd finally hit the man's one weak point. Surotawa's beautiful looks were the most important thing in the world to him... and using a knife on his face could have just been a prelude to more permanent forms of disfigurement in other areas of the body. "Do you have something to say?"

"I..." Surotawa slumped, now speaking with a hint of tears creeping into his face. "I give. Nejion lost his arm. He was screaming. We didn't know what to do, and he bled to death in less than a minute."

Not good enough. But they were close, so close... "The evidence, Surotawa. Where did you hide his body? Where did you hide the severed arm?"

Without warning, Ryuk flew into the warehouse through a wall. He didn't seem panicked, and even stopped to be amused at the sight of what Duval was doing to Surotawa. But Light knew something was up.

"Ryuk? Why are you here?"

Both the other humans looked back, understandably confused by the sight of Light talking to something that neither of them could see. "One moment then", Light told them as he recovered from the suprise, pulling up the lower portion of his mask so he could talk normally. "Ryuk, why are you here?"

The Shinigami chuckled infuriatingly. "Do I need a reason to come visit, Light? You've been having a fun party without me, I see."

"Don't play games. You came running in here. Why?"

Ryuk scratched his raven-blue hair for a moment, then gave a 'what-the-hell' gesture. "Well, uh, heheh, I noticed that there were some guys searching the buildings around here. Are they friends of yours?"

The floor seemed to drop out from beneath Light as that hit him. An organized team was searching the warehouses, not someone Ryuk recognized as an ICPO member... "We need to go. Now."

"What?!" Both men exclaimed.

"Just do it! I'll explain later!" Leaving Duval to re-bind their captive and move him out, Light ran back over, hurriedly closed the laptop and tucked it into his pack along with the Death Note-

Too late. Before any of them could leave the room, the large shutter door near Light's makeshift desk seemed to explode inward as a vehicle smashed through it, knocking him and Duval to the ground. In the time it took for them to stand again, two men in the same fancy suits Surotawa and his buddy had worn exited and brought their guns to bear.

Behind the mask, Light's eyes twisted in terror. Can't let them get the Death Note! Jumping behind a crate more out of luck than any strategy, he only then remembered he had the gun. Eight shots, minus the two Duval had used on Misa. Six. But it would have to be enough. Can't let them get it! I... I must...

Unbelievable. Killer of thousands of criminals, God of the New World and I can't bring myself to fire a gun properly at someone?! He wanted to scream. For all that he'd done, Light had little to no experience with firearms, and the first missed shot made both men duck behind cover of their own. Damn it. Can't do this. If I could just remember their names from their faces... One of them had a brown handbar mustache and wide blue eyes, while the other had darker skin, mirror shades and absurdly large white lips. Not enough to remember, although he had certainly seen at least one of the thugs in L's database. Across the way, Duval wasn't faring much better despite having found some cover- as he stood up, using Surotawa as a living shield, the one with the mustache smirked and shot Surotawa- and through him. Duval fell back behind his cover, likely wounded by the high-powered weapon penetrating their would-be informant.

Meanwhile, Mirror-shades wasn't giving Light much room to breathe either. He could afford to empty entire clips at the crates or over them, forcing Light to keep his head down. Just have to gamble, then. Shutting out all other concerns, he pulled off the mask and began to write.

Four names later, he had to change cover again. The switch-over earned him a grazed leg for the trouble. Managing to avoid crying out in pain, Light looked up from the notebook, shoving it beneath a barrel. Forty seconds. All I have to do is last forty seconds... But one of the two had disappeared while he was busy. Duval had disappeared as well, leaving behind their dead witness. Damn. He was about to crack, I know it! Have to-

Too late, he heard the telltale sound of leather on metal. "Freeze, punk." Mirror-shades, on the other side of the crate, pointing his weapon. "Drop the gun."

Thirty seconds. What if I'm wrong? What if none of those names were the right ones? If they get their hands on this... No. I'll burn it before letting criminals use it! "A-alright."

Only when that was over did the man permit himself a little gloating, grabbing Light's chin and lifting his head up in an uncomfortable fashion. His neck ached. His leg seared. He couldn't break free. Behind Light, his partner had holstered his own weapon, walking closer. "Just a kid, aren't you?", he man observed in a throaty voice. "You never shot a person before, right kid? You have to hold it tight, make sure it doesn't stray. Anyways, I doubt anyone's going to care too much what we do with you, so I'll ask you only once- where's Kira?"

Twenty seconds. The fright he put into his reply wasn't entirely simulated. "I-I don't know. I'm from Interpol! I was trying to stop someone from making off with a witness against Kira! I swear I don't have anything to do with him!"

Ten seconds. Mustache laughed behind him. "What do think we are, kid? Stupid? We already know Surotawa was with Qatada last night, bastard would sell out his own mother for hairspray. Hell, you were probably the guy who took him out of there. Trying to help mommy Kira are we? Well-"

Without any preamble, Mirror-Shades pitched forward into the floor. Dead. In the time it took Mustache to yell "What the hell?!" Light had grabbed the other thug's gun and spun around. No second chances. Have to hold it tight, make sure it doesn't stray, make sure it doesn't get away from you...

Two shots rang out, overlapped into one. Mustache's knees buckled and he fell.

Owing to adrenalin, shock, or suspense, Light took several seconds to follow suit. Somewhere beneath his ribs a fire was spreading, rapidly depriving him of air and thought... But whatever fever dream he was plunging into was not enough to stop that same sixth sense he'd felt blossom before. Again, the shapeless void stood before him, cloaked in anonymity. Watching him choke on blood. Watching him fall.

It seemed to be smiling.

-

Gods of death, the original owners of the Death Note, do not do, in principle, anything which will help or prevent the deaths in the note.

TBC

-

M: No, Light's not dead. This is meant to be 'in-continuity', so to speak.