Disclaimer – All characters and dialogue present in the anime and manga Burst Angel and Burst Angel: Infinity are registered trademarks and copyright of Funimation and studio Gonzo. All characters and dialogue not used within Burst Angel belong to me.
A/N: This was quite a difficult chapter to write, to be honest. Towards the end of the chapter, especially, but it turned out the way I wanted and ended at the point I needed.
"You've got one messed up imagination in that head of yours."
Jo, Episode 3
Chapter Four: Proof of Life
Meg's lips parted in horror; she had to bite down on her tongue hard enough to draw blood to stop her from crying out at the horrors presented in one gory photograph after another. Her hands trembled and the documents spilled back onto the table, staring back at her accusingly as she clutched her head and began to pant.
Oh god… Jo… Jo…
Her back brushed against the soot-blackened walls of the old hotel – Meg screamed and whirled about, hurling herself against it, feeling her face smash into the unforgiving barrier, beating her fists uselessly against it as she tried to drown her own pain out.
"Why the hell do you keep fucking with me?!" she demanded the wall – RAPT, Jo – driving her fist deep into the dirty plaster. White powder showered to the ground, and Meg's breathing grew harsher. "WHY?"
((the image of Maria gripping Jo by the hair as she slid her knife across the woman's throat, not even deep enough to maim, only for the sadistic pleasure-))
The anguish in Meg's chest threatened to drown her as she sank to her knees, her fingernails scraping futilely down the walls. Her breath rasped in and out of her throat; she no longer had the control over her own body to stop, to breathe normally.
Five years. Five fucking years of agony. Of not knowing. Of being blissfully unaware of what Jo had been suffering. Of living the fucking high life, of taking what was Jo's and making it her own while the person who deserved the most suffered… this.
((the image of Jo lying beaten and broken on the ground, her eyes dull and dazed – defeated.))
Meg felt warmth blur in her eyes once more, her mouth felt sticky and thick with mucus and pain. She trembled, biting her lip hard to stop herself from screaming out, yelling, doing anything. With nothing else to do, Meg broke down and cried for her long lost friend.
"J-Jo…"
The morning sky was clear as Meg began the long treck home. The documents she should have been so overjoyed to get weighed heavily in her hands as she walked.
Proof of life. Proof that Jo still lived… it had been everything Meg had hoped for. The very idea that Jo might have survived that awful explosion had always intoxicated her. It would have been the final wonder Jo could have worked, the very thing that had made her immortal in Meg's eyes. Unstoppable, unbeatable and her saviour, a powerful force of nature itself.
Meg's throat tightened and she tilted her head back to stare at the sky, heedless of the people milling around her in the early morning light.
What truly shamed Meg was that deep down, she had hoped that Jo was in trouble, detained and not merely avoiding her like the plague. The notion that Meg could save Jo herself – show Jo exactly how far she had come, reverse their roles for one glorious moment. And when that moment came, Meg would do what Jo had never dared –
Her heart clenched painfully, and suddenly it was all she could do to hold back her tears.
She had gotten what she had wanted, she supposed. The harsh reality of Jo's circumstances was so very hard to swallow…
Still tasting that foul-tasting mucus that had built up in her throat from the locker room, Meg allowed herself to look down and began the long trudge towards the Bai-Lan aircraft.
((Jo was screaming as the RAPT guard broke each and every one of her fingers-))
Meg clenched her teeth and stared at the ground, clasping the photos to her chest protectively; she was afraid the wind would pick up and blow them away.
No matter what, they are proof of your life… of your existence… Jo. Nothing can take that away from me.
Hours seemed to pass as Meg walked, her mind turning in circles – endless possibilities, changes, chances and events that may have turned out differently repeating in her head. Each time, the outcome was the same.
She was weak. She was pathetic.
Fuck. To Jo, all I was ever good at was getting kidnapped. To Maria, I was a trophy, nothing better than a sex toy.
Her jaw clenched so tightly she could almost feel her teeth cracking.
Am I really worth the oxygen I breathe?
Meg always came to that same unmistakable conclusion, no matter how she looked at it. No matter how she twisted and turned, no matter how she pleaded with herself to be reasonable, to believe in her own worth as Sei, Amy, Jo always had.
The conclusion was no.
It only took Meg an hour to retrace her steps back to the airship, bemused to see that already the place was buzzing with preparation for the coming task. She didn't bother with the hellos, the irritated look that Amy gave her telling her it was best to keep her mouth shut before any awkward questions were asked about her various 'jobs' last night.
She smiled ruefully.
First a mimic, then a pipe-bomb, RAPT contacts me and I find theseMeg's arms tightened around the yellow envelope, her smile fading as the vivid contents reawakened in her imagination. She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment to pre-empt any tears and jogged off to her room, the envelope tucked securely under her arm.
There was no point in showing the photos to Sei just yet. One look at the Bai-Lan leader had told her that Sei would be up to her eyeballs in paperwork and planning for the rest of the day. The time for revelations would come. Eventually.
Meg's stomach gave a sickening jolt as she eased herself into her room, quickly doing a silent appraisal of her room's interior and deciding that nothing was out of place. Even if that woman's source had gotten in here, there were still secure locations in the place that she doubted even Amy knew about just yet.
Amy, the dirty little sneak who won't take bribes… Meg frowned, taking the envelope from under her arm and stared down at it, before she shook her head violently to clear her mind. The images of hate and fear – the images that Meg longed to rid herself of, only knew she had to face.
Proof of life.
Her lips tightened, and she quickly lifted the corner of her mattress and stuffed the valuable documents under there. Not exactly secure, so to speak, but it'd do until that damned escort mission was over and done with. She blinked quickly as agony ruled her for a moment, and then tried to steel her will. Jo would have wanted it this way; Meg tried so hard to forget all the times Jo had blown her mission objectives to save her weakling partner's behind…
Sighing, Meg allowed herself to shrug out of Jo's old jacket, dumping the heavy material to her bed and opening her cupboard door. She quickly grabbed the nearest coat from the hangers – Hachi had been doing some late-night laundry, it seemed – and zipped up her regular jacket. Her throat burned as she stared at herself in the tiny mirror. A thin and pale face, a hairline scar running from her temple back into her hair. Her upper arm was still wrapped with filthy bandages-
Meg turned away from the reflection abruptly, clenching her hand into a fist as her eyes were drawn, as if magnetised, to the mattress.
Time to go, Jo… I'll be back soon.
Sei stared Meg up and down as she slid into the quietly buzzing command room of the Elizabeth, pressing herself unobtrusively against the wall. A Bai-Lan squad member gave her a look before nodding to her, his face obscured by the visor of his black helmet. He seemed to be armoured to the teeth, and full of male arrogance. She sighed and directed her gaze to the dark haired woman in front of the crowd of soldiers, quietly observing the suits that were standing with her.
Most likely the president's lackeys, here to make sure everything went as smoothly as damn well possible. Made her wonder what the president was afraid of, to hire this kind of security… Had she known anything about Ormicon, she might have made a list of possible hunters who were after the cashed-up rabbit. Drug kingpins, the Yakuza, terrorists, competitors, RAPT…
The large screen above Sei's head flickered from the Bai-Lan symbol to a picture of a thin and seedy looking man. Various stats began to list beside the picture – age, previous arrests in Tokyo…
Sei's voice cut across the general hubbub, silencing her 'troops' with a practiced ease that made Meg wonder when Sei had changed so much. The Bai-Lan leader waited quietly for the hubbub to fade before motioning to the screen.
"Edward Kruegar. Age thirty-two, male, Caucasian with dark hair. Distinctive features include an acid burn on the left side of his face, costing him his left eye. He was known to the Hanshin's predecessors as a menace to society, and was apprehended some ten years ago. RAPT, as many of you know, disintegrated five years ago, but the total eradication of the group is yet to be achieved. As such, Kruegar was not released from his hidden prison until early this month."
The screen changed, showing a bird's eye view of a square, cement building.
"Ormicon headquarters – point 'A' in our plan. The company is of high repute, dealing in matters of military nature. As such, many of the projects are quite… sensitive." Sei's dark blue eyes met Meg's for an instant before she continued. "Bai-Lan's role in escorting Ormicon's president, Mr. Morholt, to the army's base is integral to the safety of this information."
The image of a balding, overweight man wearing a suit flickered on screen.
"Forty-eight hours ago, Mr. Morholt received a telephone call from Kruegar telling him of the intent to capture and extract the delicate information from him forcibly. The Hanshin police force was immediately contacted, but as of yet, no trace has been found of Kruegar."
A map of Tokyo – with a highlighted and winding route – replaced the visage of Morholt. Meg's eyes drank in the details as she unconsciously began to drum her fingers on the metal wall beside her.
"Bai-Lan's function in this mission is simple – protect the president at all costs. That is our role. That is our only role. After the president arrives at the army base, we will pull back and allow the military's security to take over the convoy. Any who disobey this order will be shot on sight."
The first point of the route was highlighted, rapid writing spreading across the screen.
"We will meet the convoy at the Ormicon headquarters. From there, we escort them along this route, as shown. Five squadrons will be accompanying the cars as a visible guard and as a warning. Another three squads have already been dispatched and are in position as snipers. Finally, my own agent will be riding in the car along with Mr. Morholt."
Meg's breath caught as Sei's eyes caught her own again. Swallowing her surprise, she nodded slowly as Sei turned away from her.
"Furthermore, we have received –"
Meg let Sei's voice wash over her consciousness, allowing her mind to wander as she kept the appearance of alertness.
((blood splattered as the whip tore into flesh once more, Jo had long since passed out from the pain.))
Her mind shied away from the images as her breath hissed out through her clenched teeth. The relentless, unforgiving images…
"-you are dismissed, soldiers, go to your posts and await the dispatch orders." Sei's voice held a note of finality to it – the briefing session was over, and now it was time for action. Meg started forwards, closing the distance between them quickly and giving the suits a measured look. Sei barely glanced up as she flicked the screen off. The redhead's jaw tightened as Bai-Lan soldiers brushed past her.
"Why didn't you tell me?" she demanded in a low voice, gesturing violently towards the blackened screen. Perhaps she may have been more prepared, had she been forewarned. But the woman would have still called her, still have given her that information and she'd have run off after it anyway…
The Chinese woman's eyes finally locked on hers. "Meg. This is an extremely sensitive job – both in how we operate it and the information we are required to protect. I chose you because I have faith in your potential."
Meg's anger slowed to a simmer, though she longed to lash out at somebody, anybody. "How much haven't we been told here?"
Sei's lips twitched. "Have a little faith in Bai-Lan, just as I have faith in you."
The mercenary nodded curtly at the two suited men and turned on her heel before jogging down Elizabeth's hall towards the hanger. Sei was in one of her more enigmatic moods again.
Damned Sei and her damned organization.
Mr. Shin cleared his throat as the command room emptied, staring after the angry redhead with a blank face. The Bai-Lan leader was rubbing her temples, cursing softly under her breath.
"So Mitarai is the one to ride with our president?" His comrade, Mr. Zuru asked slowly. Zuru, Shin had been told, hailed from the warring city-states of South Africa. "Forgive me for saying, my lady, but I fear for the president's safety."
Shin nodded in agreement, crossing his arms over his chest. Meg Mitarai was somewhat notorious in Tokyo's underbelly for being too quick to kill, leading to too many mistakes. Too many of her charges had died – it was best to let her think that was bothering them about Mitarai's presence. It was no skin off his nose. Perhaps it would even benefit them.
"I am aware of her past mistakes, Mr. Zuru. I am her employer, after all." Sei's slight smirk was still on her mouth, and she turned to leave. "Meg will get the job done. Like I said to her – have a little faith in Bai-Lan. Your information will be safe."
Shin drew a wad of tobacco from his breast pocket and popped it into his mouth, waiting for Zuru to respond. Mitarai was making the goddamn situation curly again, just by her damn presence.
Fuck.
The quiet South African finally nodded. "Very well, my lady."
Shin grinned though his tobacco. "So long as the bitch keeps her nose clean and out of the info, we're all good with this shit."
The hanger was packed with the escort squads, grouping in squads and organizing the details of their assigned missions, going over them, mocking one another. Jango R gleamed a malicious red in the fluorescent lighting. Meg scanned the crowd, searching out Amy's mousy-brown curls in the sea of helmets and visors. She was bobbing up and down as if in excitement, energetically claiming responsibility for the better half of the mission's planning. Meg shrugged and pushed her way through the crowd, rapping Amy quickly on the back of the head. The teenager turned and scowled at her, colour flushing her cheeks.
"What do you-" the hacker started to demand before Meg held up one gloved hand, fighting the ache in her shoulder as it spiked up her arm.
"I need to speak to you after the mission. It's urgent."
Amy's brown eyes widened a fraction before she nodded. The redhead clapped her on the shoulder and shoved her way back towards the warm metal walls of the airship. As she pressed her back against it, she felt the soft vibration of the Elizabeth's engines as they were steadily propelled towards the drop-off point outside Ormicon's headquarters.
Meg checked the modified Desert Eagles, checking the magazine and wiping the muzzle free of the Shibuya dust, frowning in thought. Jo's guns had been lost along with her – perhaps left near the melted and twisted metal hulk that had been Jango. Either way, they had never been recovered from RAPT's ruins. Nothing much had ever been recovered from RAPT's ruins…
How did you survive that blast, Jo? Not the way Sei did… Sei still carried the horrific burns under her clothes, she had barely survived the blast even in Jango's cockpit… Meg shook her head angrily to free herself of the buzzing, useless thoughts. There would be time…
Her gut clenched painfully as the whole airship lurched to the ground.
At least, she hoped there would be. With a final polish of her guns' frames, Meg crossed the metal floors as Sei appeared, flanked by the two Ormicon suits. Sei jerked her hand for Meg to fall into place behind her.
"Move into position!" The Chinese woman barked at the soldiers already scrambling towards her. Meg watched the man who had been standing next to her during briefing slide into place behind her – silver hair gleamed in the fluorescent lighting and the hair on the back of her neck stood on end. He gave her a lazy salute and a smirk.
She turned away from him, trying to drive the flurry of gore from her mind. There was no need for him to remind her of Jo… She forced her attention back onto Sei, the throb in her arm echoing her pounding heart.
"Assume formation as soon as the hatch opens. Do not – I repeat, do not – enter Ormicon territory. We are bodyguards and escorts only." Sei's voice was hard. Meg felt herself swallow.
"If Kruegar appears during the trail from point A to B, you boys will know what to do. If an attack occurs after we reach point B, then it is the army's problem. Enter the base and you will be shot on sight." A chorus of half-hearted sniggers followed her statements, and Sei gave the signal for the operators overhead to lower the floor hatch. Meg caught the woman's eye as the door began to grind open, gears whirling and machines straining in her ears.
"Meg. Wait here." Sei's voice was soft, almost droned out by the machines. Meg inclined her head a fraction, watching the Bai-Lan soldiers pour out of the hatch as soon as it was wide enough. A number of them barely brushed past her, the slightest touch making her shoulder burn. She bit her lip hard.
As the final man left the hanger, Sei turned her dark eyes onto Meg again. The suits stared at her impassively from behind their dark glasses.
"Follow me." Sei set off at a brisk pace – only five years ago she had been told she may not ever walk again. Meg let herself scowl as the four of them descended the ramp, the harsh, cold wind whipping her hair from her face. The Bai-Lan troops had assumed formation around the impossibly long row of cars and jeeps, all parked in the vicinity of Ormicon's large gate.
The redhead surveyed the building dispassionately. There was simply no word to describe it, other than 'ugly'. A flat, grey, cement building that rose high into the sky, chimneys belching out clouds of water vapour and gas into the atmosphere, enveloping the top of the building in a haze. In the distance she could see the high-rising towers of Tokyo. She sighed. The army base, she knew, was located on the other side of the city. One hell of a drive.
"Now, Meg. You will meet President Morholt and sit in the car with him. You will keep on your toes – Kruegar is known to carry out his threats." Sei turned back to the gates. "Any moment now…"
As if on cue, the large, iron gates began to screech open. Meg's eyes narrowed and she picked out a small delegation of men in suits and a demure secretary with long, light blue hair and a pair of reading glasses. The secretary held a small briefcase, but otherwise the party went empty handed.
Sei nodded to her and walked forwards, the suits and finally Meg trailing behind her as she walked down the Elizabeth's ramp to greet the President and his retainers. Morholt was instantly recognizable – he was as balding and as sleazy looking as the picture Sei had presented that morning was. As they neared, Sei gave Morholt a bow as reintroduced herself.
"You are well aware of the route, Mr. President?" she questioned in a low voice, the wind freeing some of her dark hair as another icy gust hit them.
Morholt gave them a crooked smile. "I am not an idiot, my lady. I have reviewed the plans and Miss Ketsu finds them adequate."
The secretary looked up at the mention of her name, meek brown eyes grazing over Meg before turning to Sei.
"Yes… they were quite fine," the woman said softly, hesitantly. Meg's eyes narrowed again as she scanned the woman up and down.
Ketsu… Ketsu… Yama Ketsu?
Meg's jaw felt like it hit the pavement.
"Yoko Ketsu?" she blurted before she could stop herself – or consider the consequences. Yoko, as in the girl from the Academy? Yoko, who she had saved?
((Yoko smiled up at Meg as she presented the bouquet of flowers she'd picked up on the way to the hospital-))
Yoko's eyes met Meg's own, just as they had long ago. No recognition kindled in them. A blush suffused Meg's cheeks and she abruptly turned away from the blue-haired woman. So Yoko did not remember her… Meg swallowed.
"I'm sorry… but who-" Yoko started, but Meg lurched forwards and grabbed Morholt's hand in a quick handshake.
Oh damn, if she figures out who I am she might start asking questions I don't want to answer…
Sei gave her a confused, sidelong look. "Mr. President, this is Me-"
"We are so running late, no time for introductions!" Meg gave a fake laugh and nearly slapped her forehead as she spun on her heels.
Geeze, can I look any more sus?
She slid into the back seat of the armoured jeep and patted the seat next to her, smiling at the greasy president as he took the briefcase from Yoko. The blue-haired woman was frowning in Meg's general direction, seeming deeply lost in thought as Morholt lowered himself into the seat next to Meg. He nodded to her, the car's interior lights gleaming off his bald scalp. No doubt, the man was more used to riding in a limousine than the rough and ready jeep Bai-Lan favoured for escort missions. She shrugged her herself, briefly scanning the interior. But really, they should have cleaned out the jeep for once.
Sei was really letting her forces go.
Carefully avoiding looking at Yoko, Meg scanned the interior. It was battered and dusty, but everything looked in order. She forced herself to relax as the jeep's engine revved to life, the protective convoy beginning to move off slowly. The redhead put the sight of the ugly concrete building behind her, settling for watching out the window. There was truly little chance that Kruegar would get through the barriers. Bai-Lan was no pushover, and was damned near invincible when they got serious about a mission. Around the central group of vehicles, at least a squad were mounted on scooters and forming a weaving, dodging outer guard.
Mr. Morholt settled himself back in his seat, staring at the roof. For a man who believed his life was in danger, he looked quite bored. Meg ignored him, her eyes fixing on the startled looks the citizens of Tokyo city were giving the convoy. No other vehicles were on the road, Meg noted carefully. She supposed Bai-Lan had received clearance from the Hanshin police force to activate the blockades halting traffic. That or the damned hacker was up to her usual tricks. Both seemed likely to her.
Meg concluded her scanning quickly before leaning back in satisfaction. The escort was airtight. Nothing short of an A-bomb could get past the guard! Coupled with the snipers above them… Meg felt herself smirk. The sooner this was over, the sooner she could take what she had discovered this morning to Sei. Her hand tightened into a fist, pain flashing though her shoulder. She ignored it, just as she ignored the tugging of sleep at the corner of her mind. She hardly had time to take a nap, not here. Not now.
They sat in silence, their surroundings streaming past them as the convoy sped through Japan's capital. Meg personally approved of the speed at which they were moving. There was really no need for Mr. Morholt to be vulnerable longer than what was needed.
It was then that Mr. Morholt turned to her, his bald head gleaming from sweat, his mouth opening to form one word.
"Mitarai-"
The rest was lost in a monstrous roar as the jeep in front of them exploded.
Sei's dark eyes – like with every mission Bai-Lan took these days – were glued to the screen. Waiting. Watching for even the slightest hint that something might be wrong. Perhaps it was an side affect of losing her best and brightest soldier to death – maybe it was that since that day, Sei felt all too mortal.
Her scarred left hand gripped the armrest of the command chair, her fingernails digging into the padding as she tried not to gnaw on her lower lip. Directly before her, Amy lounged in a similar chair, occasionally tapping the large keyboard in front of her to execute a command for the mission. She heard the girl yawn loudly and obnoxiously; no doubt she believed such menial tasks were below her level, Sei thought with a twisted smile.
Nana and Hachi, the assistant neko robots Sei had inherited from Don Laoban after he had passed away, remained busy at the tasks Sei had set for them. They monitored the progress and the slightest change within the convoy. Knowing every noise that was made in the jeep made quite a difference in assuaging Sei's frayed nerves. In a job like hers, it felt nice to be in control at least a little bit.
Finally, the two contacts of Mr. Morholt's were stood off to the side, obviously not a part of the Bai-Lan control team but an unmistakable presence within the command room. The Bai-Lan leader turned her attention back to the satellite feed. By some standards, the convoy seemed like overkill. To Sei, nothing was better than peace of mind however she could get it. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Mr. Shin grind the used butt of a cigarette beneath his heel. Her teeth clenched in spite of herself. She had enough complaints from the maintenance teams as it was…
The convoy had nearly made it three quarters of the way to the final checkpoint when the satellite image being fed to the airship flickered fitfully before cutting off. Sei watched Nana and Hachi both slump forwards in their chairs – the hair rose on the back of her neck, cold and prickling.
What was going on here? Sei's eyes narrowed, her fingernails digging into her palms as she waited for Bai-Lan's finest technician to get the feed back online.
"What the-" Amy shot upright, her fingers already reaching for the large keyboard in order to restore the images.
The weasel-like man, Mr. Shin, whirled around. His hands were like talons, his eyes bulging. Terror's cold, painful hand seemed to snatch her heart away, leaving her hollow.
What the hell does he know? The thought blurred through her mind as she watched him take a step towards where Amy sat. Everything seemed to blur, seemed to go in slow motion.
Amy turned, her brown eyes open in shock as her fingers paused over the keyboard as the feed to the convoy was suddenly beginning to be re-established. The picture was still a little fuzzy for some reason, perhaps somebody had tampered with the information.
"How did you-?" Sei began to demand sharply, if Amy had been able to do this from, the beginning –
The young technician scowled up at Sei.
"It wasn't me." To anybody else, it would have sounded petulant. To the Bai-Lan leader, it spelt trouble. Somebody had planned this all. Somebody – Kruegar surely couldn't have done all of this on his own, the man had very little computing background. Compared to Amy, it was nothing…
The Bai-Lan leader's stomach felt like it had been filled with lead as the images gained clarity.
"You have got to be fucking kidding me," Mr. Shin bellowed as he saw what had happened to the entire convoy.
Or rather, where the convoy was meant to be – black smoke was beginning to blot out everything, feed by the roaring flames that was devouring the armoured cars. Sei's mouth went dry, her mind almost blanking. How could such a thing have happened so suddenly? How had Kruegar gotten past her men? How?
Sei surged to her feet, swearing.
"Amy! Get Meg on the line!" Her voice cracked out like a whip, brooking no nonsense or arguments.
"What do you think I've been trying to do, Sei?" Amy sounded a little hoarse for a moment – Sei doubted she was used to being caught without the aid of her computers. An unpleasant surprise for the entire operation indeed.
Sei paused, her eyes narrowed. "You can't reach her then?"
Amy seemed to be unable to meet her leader's eyes. Her fingers began to slow on the keyboard. "There's no response from Meg's end. That could mean a lot of things."
Sei felt her throat close over. Meg… she couldn't believe it. All eyes in the command room were on her, awaiting orders. Mr. Shin and Mr. Zuru were already out the door. She didn't know what they expected to achieve. It was not too late for their president.
Damn it, I'm not losing another of my best. I promised myself that.
"Bring in the reinforcements. Kruegar's objective may not yet be reached yet. Ready the snipers… We'll deal with Meg later." As much as it grated against her, Sei had a mission to complete. She just hoped that in the end she wasn't too late.
Meg jerked to awareness, her bangs matted and stuck to her face from the blood from a slash in her scalp. The cement was hard, rough against her cheek as she tried to prop herself up on her elbows, the shallow gasps of air burning with toxic-tasting smoke as the world around her burned. Meg frowned as she felt blood dripping down her chin, and a dull pain throbbing over her right eye. She clenched her teeth, staring around her with her good eye, trying to discern what the blazes had just happened. The last thing she'd remembered was Morholt's lips forming her name, looking as if he wished to tell her something.
Blood splattered to the ground as Meg began to cough, pain slicing through her ribs as she struggled to stop. The explosion – she was certain that was what had happened – had been a violent one. The flames around her felt as if they were scorching her skin, burning it even from the safe distance she stayed, and Meg pushed herself unsteadily to her feet, her gloved fingers scraping on the scorched concrete. Everything spun dizzyingly for a moment, a sickening mix of black smoke, charred metal and the ever-increasing flames around her. She cradled her head in her hands, rubbing her temples.
"I don't have time for this," she grunted, trying to force her mind to right itself.
After a few moments, Meg's head was cleared enough for her to begin to assess the situation. If she spent much longer in the wreckage, she'd pass out from all the smoke – or just burn to death. Both didn't really serve her purposes. The broken bodies of the Bai-Lan soldiers who had been serving as the escort were strewn about on the ground around her, unmoving. In some cases, they were burning. The smell of cooking flesh was enough to make Meg gag, even after these five years…
Her good eye watering from the putrid smoke, she hectically scanned the inferno around her. There had to be some sign of the people Sei had charged her to protect, there just had to be… Her jaw clenched hard as she realised that both Yoko and Morholt were gone. They weren't there. A good thing or a bad thing, Meg wasn't quite certain. On one hand, Sei wouldn't give her the sack. On the other, Kruegar might have Morholt already.
The latter was confirmed by a shriek of agony from somewhere deeper in the flaming ruins, almost swept away by hot winds and the roar of the fire as it consumed the bodies of the Bai-Lan soldiers.
Meg's one eye narrowed as she carefully drew one of her modified Desert Eagles from her holsters, and the redhead moved slowly into the heart of the raging fire. Windborne embers scorched her face as she stepped around the twisted metal shell that had been the jeep she had been riding in, and her nostrils could detect the smell of burning hair as she forced her way past the burning remains of a motorbike. The rider had been granted a quick death – he'd been impaled on a jagged piece of metal after the initial blast.
Giving up on her watering eye, Meg drew the goggles hanging around her throat up and over her eyes. The cut over her right eye stung, but it allowed her to see without being blinded by smoke. Her throat felt raw, her brain sickly and sluggish. She knew enough about the dangers of smoke inhalation to know she had to get out – fast. She jerked to the side as flames surged anew to her new blindside.
She didn't have to go far to find Kruegar's little hiding spot – he must have thought himself safe with all the Bai-Lan escort gone. Meg took a sharp intake of breath as she ducked back around a pile of burning metal and bodies, immediately regretting it as pain stabbed into her ribs. It was getting harder and harder to breathe now, and not just because of the damage to her side.
Finish it, the ghostly voice that seemed to belong to Jo whispered in her head. Meg nodded to herself, fully agreeing with her Inner Jo.
It was time to end this silly charade.
Kruegar was laughing cruelly as Meg watched him haul Morholt up by the front of his shirt, pressing the muzzle of the revolver he carried to the corner of Morholt's jaw. Sprawled before them was Yoko Ketsu, her blue hair down and wild around her face as she watched on in horror. The slick man Meg had been asked to defend babbled meaninglessly in terror, his eyes wide and rolling back into his skull. Meg could practically taste the man's terror as Kruegar pressed the trigger.
No shot rang out.
Kruegar bellowed with laughter as Morholt's knees gave out, sending the man sprawling into the hot embers. The president tried to roll away from the burning ashes – Kruegar's iron-shod boot landed squarely at the base of his ribs, effectively trapping the man.
"Guess you got lucky, old man Morholt." The RAPT prisoner cracked an uneven grin, the acid burns on his face stretching grotesquely. "Next time the roulette goes round, will it hold out?" That seemed immensely funny to Kruegar, as he broke off into a fit of gasping, howling laughter. He spun the cylinder with a thumb lazily, cocking the hammer and aiming squarely for Morholt's scrunched, terrified face.
Do it, the voice was cold in Meg's mind. No need to extend this more than you have to.
Wordlessly, Meg stepped out from behind the heap of twisting metal, paying no heed to the disbelieving expression on Yoko's face, the sob of relief from Morholt. A single shot rang out, striking flesh and bone.
Kruegar shuddered on his feet, blood rolling down his face from the headshot. Meg watched him fall forwards and into the flames impassively, taking no real satisfaction from the man's death as he began to burn. It hadn't been her who had shot the man.
Bai-Lan snipers? Meg wondered, her mind growing a little fuzzy.
Her eyes darted towards where Yoko had crawled over to Morholt. It was getting harder and harder to focus now, her vision blurred, her breath hitching painfully. She dropped down to a crouch, her brain spinning sickly. Her joints no longer seemed to want to support her…
Meg's vision went dark, and she vaguely heard Sei screaming for medics, the roar of engines and the feel of fresh wind on her face.
Don't die here… she told herself quietly as even the howl of the fire faded away into a dull, static-filled buzz. Jo's counting on you. Those… damn… photos…
