A man in a gray business suit strode into the dungeon, his hands clasped behind his back: Ikeda Takashi. Ken had seen the man before; his profile had appeared on the television of the mission room. He walked until he stood midway between Ken's and Aya's cells and faced them.
"Good evening, gentlemen," he said. "Please pardon the substandard waiting arrangements, however it's against personal policy to grant freedom of mobility to armed trespassers. These conditions can be remedied with cooperative efforts. Tell me, why are you here? There's nothing to be found in this area except my home."
Ken already didn't like this guy. "Substandard? Compared to most of your other guests I'd say this is pretty nice."
Ikeda's eyes flickered to the table of small instruments. "Touché. I dare wager you'd prefer it stay that way?"
Ken didn't answer. Ikeda looked back.
"Hm. Swords and bugnucks: a savage pair, aren't you?"
Flash, flash, flash from the mission room television. Mangled bodies. Pain-wracked expressions. Eyeless sockets that had cried blood. Savage? Ken's every muscle tightened.
The corner of Ikeda's mouth turned up. "I do wonder, what purpose could you possibly have out here with those things? And with such knowledge of unfortunate other visitors."
Visitors. Elders. Mothers. Children. Ken snarled. "You coward. Save your breath."
"I do believe there's a respectable difference between cowardice and common sense, don't you agree? You clearly pose a threat to my safety unrestrained. I'm not so stupid as to grant you freedom from childish baiting." Ikeda's hands slid into his pockets.
"I can satiate my curiosity with other methods if necessary, however I doubt you'll find them as pleasant. It's your own decision; you can volunteer information now, or have it pulled from you by force. I'm offering you the considerable courtesy of a choice in the matter, and the opportunity to spare yourselves a great deal of unnecessary trauma. Pass it by, and you may consider my graciousness expired." He thinned his lips and withdrew his hands. "Tell me, who sent you and why are you here?"
"Fuck you with a pineapple, I'm not sayin' a word."
"It's a little late for that, I'm afraid." He looked to the redhead, who had been far more capable of holding his tongue. "Your answer?"
Looks alone couldn't kill, but Aya had a marvelous impression.
"...Very well. Delude yourselves with ideas of the value of patriotism all you like. The end will be the same. Do not expect conditions to move in any direction save bad to worse until you change your minds."
As Ikeda turned for the door, a man in uniform entered the room, his skin splotched with scar tissue. Ken grimaced; someone had seen better days.
"I have another update," he said to Ikeda. "We've found the boy looking for a way in. We should have him under custody soon."
"Any sign of his teammate?"
"Not yet."
"How are the numbers?"
"Steadily dropping."
Ken's eyes lit. Yes!
Ikeda's mouth quirked. "Sato, why don't we focus on the wire man? You said yourself he's more dangerous. Let's forget about the brat for now."
"With a little more time, we should have the boy; then we can put full attention on his teammate. I don't think he's inexperienced. He's being careless right now because he's under such heavy pressure. With two teammates captured, he must be feeling panicked."
"He's not a threat as long as he's on the run, is he? Leave a couple of soldiers on his tail and put the rest onto finding the other!"
"...Fine," Sato conceded, and led the way out.
Ken couldn't stop his grin. His eyes twinkled with renewed spirit as they settled on Aya once more.
"So, think you can hold out against these bastards for a while?"
Aya grimly regarded Ken for a moment. "Can you?"
"Are you challenging me?"
No answer. Ken snorted and glared at Aya. He smiled. "Bring it on."
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Omi panted for breath. Crunching leaves swarmed from behind-- they were getting closer. He looked over his shoulder; tripped. Omi cried out in surprise and whumped to the ground.
"Keep running, Yohji-kun!"
Silence answered from one direction, an onslaught of darts from the other. Omi scrambled out of the way-- narrow evasion. He clutched his midsection; that fall had really knocked the wind out of him.
The guard grinned at the small figure seeking escape in the thick depths of the lightless forest. He lifted his communicator. "Captain, we've got him. His teammate's with him, just a little further ahead."
Omi skidded to a halt.
Sato answered from main control. "Understood. I'll send back-up to help secure them."
Shriek. Thump. Sato tensed briefly. He sent double back-up.
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Yohji appreciated that Ikeda's venting system didn't have many cobwebs. Even so, a cigarette would be good right about now. His tongue edged towards his lips, seeking the nonexistent roll of tobacco-- nothing to play with. He adjusted the flooring, slipped his fingers under the paneling...
He held his breath, absolutely silent as the conversation of two young guards on the run approached and receded.
"And then she got all mad when I explained why her combo moves looked like a guy with epilepsy and she walked out!"
"I guess she didn't like video games."
Yohji blinked, then dropped down into the hall, watching with dry humor as they turned the corner, never noticing him. Short brown hair, small figure, splash of freckles, fiery temper? Yeah, he remembered the rant about -that- one over breakfast. Amateurs.
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Ikeda returned a short while later, flanked by several uniformed guards. They marched to Ken's cell and threw back the door. Ken nearly fumbled backwards, but quickly resumed a ready stance. So he was first, huh? Well, he'd said bring it on. He'd meet it with a brave face.
After a brief struggle, the guards took him to a wooden post and tied his hands to it so that his back was exposed. He kept a steady glare on Ikeda. Bastard. Just wait until the tables turned, and Ken had every confidence that they would be.
One guard grabbed the bullwhip on the wall, lines of tiny silver studs protruding from the braids of leather. Ken grimaced for just a second, then hardened his expression with resolve.
"You know, Ikeda, if you wanted to know my threshold for pain, you only had to ask..."
"Unfortunately, the aim of what one might dub extreme measures of persuasion is not to know the threshold for pain, but to cross it."
"Extreme measures of persuasion? Boy that's a fancy way of saying torture. Just how much practice do you guys get at being politically correct anyway?"
Ken wasn't graced with more answer than the first strike of the bullwhip.
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Yohji's fingers pecked against the keyboard in the security room, investigating the various scenes Ikeda's cameras had to offer. Nothing, nothing, a few lost guards, a recording of the pit capture... Ah. Yohji's eyes narrowed, staring at the live feed of Ken at the whipping post.
"So that's where you are..."
Someone gasped. Yohji whipped his head around and cursed under his breath. What a shame. Well, there was only one way to handle situations like this.
"Ahh, that's unlucky for you." Yohji tsked and pulled two feet of wire from his watch, peeking at the guard over his sunglasses. "You're not supposed to know he's a decoy yet. You have to keep it a secret now."
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The air felt barren. Cracks of whip against tender flesh. Grunts, choked back cries, gasping yells. Finally, the guards cut the ropes holding Ken's hands. He leaned against the whipping post for support, easing himself to the ground while his limbs trembled from fatigue.
Ikeda rocked on the balls of his feet. "So... Feeling any more talkative, or do you prefer screaming to coherent speech?"
Ken's lungs gulped in breath. He glared hard at the ground.
"Suck balls. I'll take screaming."
Without further word to Ken, Ikeda's eyes leered towards Aya. "And you echo his sentiments?"
Violet eyes met Ikeda's gaze, a few moments of silence buffering question and answer. "I'll stick with 'fuck you with a pineapple'," he said coolly.
Ken faltered, and competitive spirit gave way to an appreciative smile in the redhead's direction. Yeah. Definitely in this together.
Ikeda sniffed. "I wouldn't think it wise to give a connoisseur of sadism any more ideas than he already had. Very well."
A nod to the guards. They hefted Ken to his feet by the arms with no regard for the stinging stripes across them. They turned him around.
Pushing him backward, each guard held an arm up, and they were once again bound to the post. Ken was too stunned to struggle, having expected a trip back to the cell. Wasn't it Aya's turn now?
Or not. Apparently, they were going to do the same thing to his front half now. Suddenly, Ken had an epiphany, and looked down in dawning horror at his exposed manhood.
Oh, snap. This was really going to suck...