I do not own the rights to "Neon Genesis Evangelion", "Knight Rider"or any of the persons, places, intangibles, or concepts within. This fan fiction is a non-profit tribute to both series. Therefore, if requested by Hideki Anno, Gainax, Glen A. Larson, Universal, or other interested parties, I will discontinue and remove this story immediately.
Tokyo-2 JSSDF Outpost, May 2023:
"Are you sure?" Colonel Watanabe asked, holding the telephone handset up to his ear. Sitting in the cramped office in the concrete bunker on the edge of the Tokyo-2 city limits, the graying, slightly overweight man nodded, listening to the report from the Tokyo-3 sentries. "Alright, report in to your relief, and join the convoy to Tokyo-2. It's the only civilization within driving distance of Hakone. Sweep the city, and if anyone resists… you know what to do."
"Sir," a young brunette woman in captain stripes said, "can these reports be taken seriously?"
"I'm shocked at you, Ibuki," the colonel grunted sourly. "You of all people should know what those traitorous pilots are capable of." He watched as the woman flinched ever so slightly. "They attack our forces when NERV is declared an enemy of the state, ravage our soldiers, and now, when we get these back from reconnaissance, Ikari resurfaces." He gestured towards the black and white enhanced photos tucked in the red classified folder lying on top of his simple desk. "If NERV rebuilds and sends it out again, we can ill afford to defend what's left of our nation. The best we can do is intercept the threat before it's completed, and destroy it, or destroy the pilot."
Captain Maya Ibuki nodded, her shoulder-length hair tucked neatly into a bun as she saluted. "Sir!" she answered, turning on her heel and retreating to the corridors of the cavernous tomb. Once outside, she closed the steel reinforced door quietly, spinning around to the young man in khaki shirt and shorts waiting outside the office. "Get in contact with your supervisors, and leak the pilot's arrival… quietly."
"But Captain," Kensuke Aida stressed. "If you do that, the entire city will be out after him!"
Maya nodded. "At least that way, he has a fighting chance…"
Tokyo-2 Horaki Residence, May 2023:
"-Reports are just coming in," the news anchor's voice interrupted over the noise in the kitchen. Nozomi adjusted the volume over the sound of her sister cooking breakfast. As the sunlight shone through the east windows, the brunette squinted as an image flashed onto the screen.
"This is an artist's rendering of the suspect, based on reports from airport staff and a brief obtained by an anonymous source-"
"SHINJI-KUN!" Nozomi shouted. The kitchen echoed with the sounds of dropped pans and clattering silverware. In the bathroom, a cross between a grunt and a yelp emerged. Striding out in his black slacks and matching black polo shirt, Ikari ran his hand through his hair.
"What the hell is it, Noz-" he started. She interrupted, pointing at the screen. He stared in shock, the artist sketch of his face next to a copy of his old junior high identification photo. Hikari rounded the corner, the simple white apron tied around her black pencil skirt and white blouse, her heels hammering the linoleum flooring with each step. All three went silent, the youngest turning up the volume as the screen cut to interviews with the "man on the street".
"That war criminal… here?" a middle-aged housewife asked. "What is this place coming to?" A younger man in front of a delivery truck was next. "The military should just shoot him on sight." One after another continued, until Shinji thought he recognized a familiar face.
"That's right, Suzuki-san," Kensuke Aida reported over his cellphone feed to the news anchor. A stock photo of Aida was placed on the screen over a metropolitan map of Tokyo-2. "The self defense forces have mobilized, forming checkpoints throughout Tokyo-2. Given their concentration and staging, capturing the fugitive is simply a matter of time."
Hikari watched in surprise as Shinji clenched his teeth, bringing his left wrist up to his face. "You getting this?" he said into his wristwatch.
"The news coverage regarding your presence in Tokyo-2?" the vehicle asked. "Yes, I have been monitoring both commercial and scrambled military channels since 0452 Hours Local Time." The Two Thounsand Series listened to the stressed breathing from the wristwatch transceiver. "Was there something else, Mr. Ikari?"
Shinji stared at the tv, and watching the conversation between the anchor and Kensuke continue, started to form an idea. "Can you track a cellphone signal, and pinpoint its current position?"
"Affirmative, Mr. Ikari-"
"Just call me Shinji," the man interrupted. "Then do it. Take the phone call from channel 3 on the television, and scan all open calls for the Kensuke Aida's cellphone-"
"Kensuke Aida's current cellphone listing is more effective," the car answered. Searching the online directories through a variety of public and private record sources, the AI responded promptly. "Kensuke Aida, age twenty-two, current residence listed as-"
"Okay," Shinji answered, throwing his black jacket on. "Track that phone, and plot an intercept course." Striding into the guest bedroom, Ikari reached under the bed, fishing out the German submachine gun stolen from the soldiers the night before. Checking the magazine, he racked the action, and slung the weapon over his shoulder. Throwing his jacket on as he jogged for the door, he almost ignored Hikari as she tried to block his path.
"Shinji, wait!" Horaki barked. She stood in front of the door, her back pressed against the steel reinforced wood. Looking down at the weapon tucked under his jacket, she stared back up at him. "Don't be stupid! If you go to talk to Ken, the police or the army will kill you!"
Reaching for the doorknob, he brushed the girl aside. "You know, that's one thing none of you ever figured out! It's my life! We aren't in class anymore, Hikari. Stop telling me what to do!" Pushing her forcibly away, he levered the door open, and sprinted down the driveway to the black sports car. "Alright, you have weapons?"
"Shinji," the voice started. "If you are attempting to run the blockades to intercept Mr. Aida-"
"Weapons! What do you have?"
"I am not equipped with offensive weapons," the car responded. "They were removed during the prototyping stage." The car opened its driver side door, allowing Shinji access as he slipped into the seat. The steering wheel moving into place and ergonomics adjusting to his specifications, Shinji nervously looked behind him as the APU slowly spun the turbine to life. "However, my molecular bonded shell and defensive capabilities statistically will defeat up to sixty-five point two percent of all inbound attacks."
"That will have to be good enough," Ikari sighed. The high-pitched turbine whirring over the quiet suburban morning, Shinji toggled a reverse gear, and pressed down on the accelerator, sending the Knight Industries prototype screeching into the residential street. "Okay, let's do it!"
Hikari and Nozomi both stared out the window, watching the black car peel away from their home, the odd mix of flat and gloss black armor cutting through the daylight. "Baka…" Hikari muttered, wiping at an odd dampness around her eyes. Nozomi looked up at her sister, then down the street towards the retreating car.
Tokyo-2 City Center, May 2023:
As the sports car cut through traffic wildly, slaloming past the morning commuters, Shinji jerked the steering wheel in his hands back and forth. Clearing the traffic with a serenade of honking horns trailing behind him, Shinji worked through the controls of the overhead touchscreen, trying to bring up a phone number for Devon at the Foundation. "If you are looking for Mr. Miles," the car interrupted, "he is at the Tokyo-2 corporate office."
"What's he doing there?" Shinji demanded, suddenly noticing a police siren wailing behind him. As the squad car pulled alongside the Two Thousand, the officers were suddenly unable to peer through the opaque window glass as it shifted and shimmered in the light. "Did he follow me?"
"He seemed to think it prudent at the time," the voice replied, bringing up a video conferencing connection with Devon's private line. "Mr. Miles holding for you on scrambled frequency."
As Devon's face materialized on the glass cockpit main display, the squad car to Ikari's left started to swerve, tucking behind the left quarter panel. "Yes, Shinji?" Devon asked. Suddenly, a violent impact vibrated through the chassis of the car. "Shinji, what's wrong?"
"Impact detected," the car responded. "No physical damage, but their attempts to deviate our course could succeed if we do not accelerate."
"What the hell?" the officer in the passenger seat barked. Looking out the side window, he shook his head in disbelief, turning to his partner at the wheel. "That car isn't even scratched!" The squad car rammed into the black shadow once again, fragments of the front fascia grinding and tumbling away down the street. However, the getaway car simply continued on, not a mark in the paint.
"Armored car!" the driving officer assumed. "Must be!" Glancing down at their tactical radio, the officer reached for the mic, keying in on the main frequency. "This is One-Adam-Seven, in pursuit of unknown black sports car northbound on Motorway Five. Suspect vehicle is armored. Requesting back-up. Say again, requesting back-up."
"Devon, we have a problem," Shinii answered, pushing down on the accelerator, launching the car past the police, and cornering hard into the city center. "The self defense forces are trying to kill me! They attacked me last night, and now the whole city is against me." He paused, trying to catch his breath as he worked the steering wheel in his hands, slaloming the pursuing squad car off-course. "I need you to get everything you have on Kensuke Aida."
Devon watched in horror as the police car behind Shinji peeled away, smashing head first into a convenience store display window. "Don't tell me you're trying to run!" Mr. Miles exclaimed. "Shinji, take the Two Thousand, and drive to the US Embassy. Our attorneys and I can meet you there in twenty minutes." As another squad car pulled around the intersection just ahead of Shinji, he pushed his foot down to the floor. "Shinji?"
"Prepare for collision," the car announced, activating the passive laser restraint system.
"Not until I get Kensuke," Shinji answered, holding the wheel steady. The police car closing in, Shinji watched as the officers squirmed in panic, turning to evade. However, Ikari sent the prototype directly for the driver side quarter panel. The collision sheared the side paneling away, cleaving the front end of the squad car through a third of the engine compartment as the phantom accelerated through the impact. The second squad car down, Shinji looked back, a nervous grin slowly forming on his face. "I've gotta hand it to you, Devon… the armor works."
The officers in the first car slowly jogged to the second car, pulling away the sheared passenger door. "You alright?" one of them asked the driver. Reaching for his handheld radio, he turned to watch the suspect pull away, still accelerating. "This is One-Adam-Seven. One-Adam-Four and us are down!"
"One-L-Twenty," their commander answered. "What do you mean down?"
"Suspect car is armored… took us both down, still headed northbound on Motorway Five. Call up the Self Defense Forces. We can't… we can't do anything."
"Are you completely mad?" Devon hissed. Finding he couldn't reason with Ikari, he turned his focus to the car, starting to key in an alphanumerical sequence on his laptop. Suddenly, the car started to swerve, decelerating into a tight turn, redirecting it southbound. "I'm ordering the Two Thounsand to the Embassy. If you know what is good for you, you'll sit there, and wait until we arrive." He watched helplessly as Ikari struggled against the steering wheel, trying to fight the commands.
"Shinji, please," Devon insisted. "They've already purged the other pilots. We have to try playing it diplomatically-"
"No we're not, Devon!" Shinji snapped. Reaching for the overhead panel, he started toggling the inputs for a manual override. Just as the car came within sight of the embassy, Shinji grinned in satisfaction, keying in the right sequence.
As the car's AI powered down, Shinji slammed on the brakes, turning the wheel once again. The black silhouette swung violently around just meters from the four officers, the rear wheels chirped against the pavement, the multi-fuel turbine's excessive power causing them to break traction with the asphalt. The lead officer coughed, covering his mouth as the white smoke engulfed them.
Headed northbound once again into the heart of the city, Ikari reactivated the computer's higher functions. "Manual override reset," the voice barked out. "Please enter login and passcode."
Turning down into a dark alley, Shinji brought the car to a stop. "Recognize Ikari, Shinji," the young man answered, glaring at passing traffic. "Reset username and passcode, voice recognition only." The display window started ticking off the wait time, processing the request. Pressing his hand to one of the panels to take a palm scan, Ikari took a deep breath.
"You are attempting to block all input from Mr. Miles and Foundation control," the car answered. Waiting for a response, the vehicle's turbine slowed to a dull whir. As Shinji struggled to toggle a forward gear, the main display scanned over a variety of legal documents. "If you wish to avoid temporary control, my firewall is now operational."
"Why are you doing this?" Shinji asked, staring back at the dashboard dumbly. "I mean… aren't you-"
"There is only a thirty-two percent probability of reaching the embassy with current troop deployments, and less than thirteen percent probability to convince local authorities to recognize your diplomatic immunity given your prior actions."
"So, now what?" the young man sighed.
As a simple chime sounded over the internal speakers, the car shifted into a forward gear, and spun up the turbine. "Self Defense Forces communications are now scrambled. We have a projected window of three minutes, twenty-one seconds to intercept Mr. Aida and reach the embassy before their communications are re-established." The wheels started to spin, the chassis of the car surging against the asphalt as it punched through the exit to the alley, diverting through the city center.
Tokyo-2 JSSDF Convoy, May 2023:
Kensuke Aida sat in the rear passenger seat of the Humvee, looking out the window. Just before the radio blackout, the Forty-Seventh Light Infantry Brigade was ordered to intercept a disturbance in the city center related to a high speed pursuit. However, this was not on the forefront of Aida's mind.
He had betrayed his friend. Although he owed Ibuki for helping him get out of Tokyo-3, and furthering his journalism career with her military connections on more than one occasion, Aida knew he owed Shinji more. His thoughts were interrupted, however, as the driver of the Humvee called his attention forward.
"Hey, it's that sports car!" the soldier called out. "Okay, bring up the fifty-cal, and flank it!" Just as the driver started to bring the armored Humvee to a stop, the wraith ahead of him sped up, aiming directly for the front bumper. "H-hey!" he shouted. The car wasn't slowing down. "Hurry up and shoot it!"
The Browning machine gun erupted in a staccato of fire, shells rebounding off the steel roof above as Kensuke peered out his window. Watching as sparks danced over the hood and windshield of the sports car, however, he could not see any physical damage. "Holy sh-"
"What are you do-?" Shinji asked, throwing his hands up over his face, just as the car cut to the left, and plowed its rear quarter panel into the front bumper of the Humvee. The jarring impact brought the prototype to a sudden halt, the opposing transport crumpling under the deceleration. As Kensuke jolted in his seat from the impact, the passenger door swung open, just missing the soldier falling from the roof-mounted machine gun to the pavement below.
Kensuke stared through the open cockpit at Shinji, jaw gaping in shock. "Ikari?" Before he knew precisely what was happening over the shouting of the soldiers raising their weapons, Shinji returning fire from the driver side, and the car melting its rubber tires in a flashy escape, Aida found himself pressed against the passenger seat of the black coupe, hurtling towards the motorway. "I… I'm going to be sick…"
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