I don't own anything.
Corruption
-Chapter Seven
"Hey Takahashi." Shinji smirked as the man jumped and spun around, a pistol appearing in his hand. He stared at Shinji for a minute before grinning.
"You always were the only guy who could sneak up on me."
"I'm good like that," Shinji stated. "Now stop pointing that thing at me or I'm going to take it and beat you with it." Takahashi laughed and holstered his weapon. "Did you get what I needed?"
"Right here," Takahashi replied as he held up a small black bag. "The rest of the stuff will be here by tomorrow. Alright?"
"Fine," Shinji replied. "Open the bag." Takahashi stared at him in surprise for a moment before kneeling and opening the bag. He emptied its contents onto the ground.
"Getting paranoid in your retirement," he commented.
"You have no idea," Shinji replied as he examined the contents and put them back in the bag. He picked up a black case and opened it to reveal a thick cylinder and a threaded pistol barrel.
"So," Takahashi began. "Who pissed you off and what did they do?"
"Somebody," Shinji replied vaguely as he drew Misato's USP and swapped out its barrel quickly. The sights had already been elevated to clear an added suppressor. He holstered the weapon again and tucked the suppressor in his pocket before closing the bag.
"Need any help?"
"I got it," Shinji answered. He slung the bag over his shoulder and grinned at Takahashi. "Trust me."
"You know I do." Shinji considered the man. They had served together for years, saved each other's lives multiple times, gotten into dozens of bar fights on almost ever continent on the planet.
"You any good with computers?"
"Does hacking porn sites count?"
"More experience than me." Shinji pulled the flash drive out of his pocket and held it out. "Have a look at that for me; would you?"
"Is it porn?"
"Might be." Takahashi grinned and flashed him a thumbs up. "See you tomorrow."
"Yeah." Shinji paused and considered the man.
"Give me your coat."
"Now you want the clothes off my back?" Takahashi asked, plucking the lapels of his black trench coat.
"Yes."
(:ii:)
Hikari pushed the door to her apartment open and stepped inside, closing the door quickly. Even the ritzy parts of Tokyo-3, like where the Suzuharas' pent house was, were dangerous at night. She flicked the lights on and shrieked in surprise at the man standing in the middle of her apartment. "Round two Hikari."
"Shinji?"
"Got it in one," he stated. "Now you're going to answer my questions."
"I. . .I can't!" Hikari protested. "I told you, I'm being watched!" Shinji smiled tightly and held up a long knife clutched in one glove-clad fist. The black blade gleamed wetly in the light from the lamps.
"I took care of them." Hikari staggered back a step, her back to the door as Shinji absently wiped the blood off on her sofa and slipped the knife under his coat.
"You killed them?"
"Oh yeah," he replied. "I really don't want to kill you Hikari. You were always decent to me, don't make me do something I might regret." Hikari's hand slid to the door knob and Shinji blurred suddenly, his coat flaring open as he snatched up his knife. In less than a second the long black knife was embedded in the wall next to her head. Hikari stared at it in shock and Shinji grinned. "And my old CO said I'd never find a use for that party trick."
"Shinji. . ."
"What is Touji doing?" Shinji asked.
"He runs Section-2," Hikari stated. "He does. . .he does horrible things to the people who try to stop them. I've seen the way he chuckles when the news talks about disappearances and how he comes home with his cuffs covered in blood after spending all night out."
"Has he ever told you anything specific?"
"He's not that stupid," Hikari stated. "And I'm not stupid. I know the man I married. That man isn't who I'm married to now." Shinji considered her carefully.
"Why stay married than?"
"I still love him Shinji." Shinji stared at her and frowned as his cell phone buzzed. He fished it out and saw Takahashi's number on the screen.
"Problem?"
"I opened that flash drive," Takahashi stated. "The code looks like it was written by an epileptic monkey and you won't believe what's on this thing."
"What is it?" Shinji asked.
"Remember the leftist guerillas in Bolivia?" Shinji shifted slightly as memories of desecrated bodies piled high under the baking sun. Out of many similar scenes, that was by far the worst he had ever seen.
"Hard to forget," he replied. "That was pretty bad, even by our standards."
"The stuff here makes those guys look like amateurs," Takahashi replied. "That was down and dirty. This is a pro operation."
"Give me a location," Shinji ordered.
"Yes sir. Looks like warehouse twelve on the docks." Hikari spun, trying to grab the door knob and Shinji drew the suppressed USP. The weapon kicked once. "You want assistance? Sergeant? Are you still there?"
"I'm here. Sorry. Wasn't paying attention." Shinji holstered his pistol and made his way to the door. He retrieved his knife and kicked the door open. "I'll be fine on my own."
"That's a bad idea there Sergeant," Takahashi commented.
"I'm not looking for a fight," Shinji replied as he made his way to the elevator. "This will just be a scouting run. I need you to get my equipment pronto."
"I have minions to do that for me," Takahashi replied. "Ow! Hey! Give me my phone back!"
"Ikari?"
"Captain Minekura?"
"Yes. Listen. . ."
"You're one of Takahashi's minions, sir?"
"I am not a minion," Minekura stated sharply. "I am an employee. Don't you do something stupid Ikari."
"Not planning on it, sir." Shinji reached for the call button and hesitated as the light indicating which floor the elevator was on began to rise by itself. He reached under his coat and drew the USP again.
(:ii:)
Touji scowled as he stared around his pent house. "We lost contact with the guards and came to investigate. This is how we found her."
"How bothersome." His wife's glazed eyes stared back at him, the hole above her right eye still leaking blood.
"Did she know anything sir?"
"Do you take me for a fool?" Touji snapped. "She knew nothing."
"I see sir."
"Clean this up."
"Yes sir."
(:ii:)
Shinji moved quickly among the shipping crates. Following the road would be quicker, but this was a little bit stealthier. Stealthier was goon. Shinji really didn't like getting shot at and liked being shot even less. Warehouse twelve loomed before him and Shinji frowned. There weren't any windows. He kept to the shadows and made his way around the structure, noting the men casually standing at the entrance and the numerous video cameras.
"Shit." This wasn't going to be easy. He should have brought along Takahashi and the captain as decoys. A fire escape caught Shinji's eye. He bounded forward, leapt and managed to catch hold the metal stairway's second level, neatly avoiding the camera watching the first. He pulled himself up and scaled the stairway in massive bounds that covered at least four steps each. He reached the top in a handful of heartbeats and took in the layout. There were only two guards and one camera. Shinji drew the USP and took aim. The camera would be first and then the guards. He would have to take care of this quickly before someone noticed.
Three shots later, Shinji pushed the roof access door open and descended into the darkness beyond. He considered the tiny night vision monocle in his pocket, but ignored it as he came to the catwalk that ran along the building's perimeter, high above the floor below. "Shit."
Takahashi's warning had done the place little justice. This was a torture factory. Somehow the cold, business-like atmosphere made it even more chilling than other such places he had been in. Those had been easy to justify. Those had been about hatred. This place was all about business.
Far below rows of clear cells held a few prisoners, all naked, a classic opening interrogation technique. The various pieces of torture equipment were set against the far wall where the concrete floor had been covered in ornate tiling to ease cleaning. All of the stations were mercifully empty as a single man wearing a butcher's smock used a hose to chase blood towards a large drain in the floor.
A quick scan of the open floor plan revealed no other occupants and Shinji put the butcher down with a single shot before scaling a ladder in the corner. He hit the ground silently and searched the butcher's body for keys. Once found he made his way towards the cells. They only contained three occupants. Two were men, too far gone to react to Shinji's presence. The third however, was the very person Shinji had started all this for. "Misato!" The purple haired woman flinched and slowly turned. She stared at Shinji in utter silence as he opened the door. "Misato, it's me."
"It can't be you," she whispered. "You're not real."
"I'm real," Shinji stated as he hugged her tightly, frowning as she flinched away. Shinji pulled back and took in the true extent of her wounds. It hit him like a bag of bricks. She was on borrowed time. "It's really me Misato." He saw tears well up in her eyes and she flung herself at him suddenly, clutching him tightly.
"You really came."
"I did." How much time did she have? The only thing keeping her going was will, and she probably didn't have much of that left. "I told you I would, didn't I?"
"I missed you so much." Her skin felt cold.
"It'll be okay, Misato," Shinji stated. Mana had wondered at his lying ability. He thought he was pretty damn good when he tried. She had stopped crying. Was she calming, or did she just have no more tears? "I'm going to get you to a hospital."
"They. . .they. . .the did. . ."
"Shush," Shinji ordered. "You're okay now. I'm here and I'll make them pay for what they did to you. Hell will seem like a release after I'm done with them."
"Thank you." Her body slumped heavily against him, no longer able to support her. Shinji held her close until she was gone. That terrible, powerful will that had kept her alive had disappeared the moment she had seen that he was real. Unwilling to break before her captors, she had died before her friend. Shinji lowered her to the ground and swallowed heavily. He looked around, wanting to scream, wanting to kill. His eyes fell upon a heavy propane tank in the corner. It was attached to a stove where several blunt tools rested on the burners. It was a big one too.
Shinji silently reached into his bag and pulled out a spool of thin, black detcord. He began measuring it off against his forearm as he eyed the tank. This would be tricky. He wasn't familiar with the newest stuff. It felt too light, even though the markings insisted it was equivalent to the old two hundred gram stuff. He made his way to the butcher and tugged out his wallet. He flipped it open and stared at the I.D. "Section-2." Shinji lashed out with a dozen hard kicks until the man's ribcage collapsed, but it did little to calm the monster twisting and growling in his head. It wasn't enough. He wanted screams and blood, lots of each. He hadn't been able to kill Rei before. This time wouldn't be a problem. Nope, not a problem for any of them.
(:ii:)
"Sir!" Touji turned and frowned at the agent running towards him.
"What is it?" he snapped. This was turning out to be quite a bothersome night.
"The interrogation center just exploded."
"What?" Touji roared. He was sprinting towards his Buick before he even realized what he was doing. The younger agent paced his limping stride with ease. "What happened?" What a stupid question. He knew what had happened, or rather, who happened.
"We don't know yet sir," the agent stated. "The firefighters won't let anyone in yet until they inspect the structure, but one of them stated that everything inside was destroyed by the blast."
"Well that's good." The fire chief was on the pay role, but he hadn't been made privy to all that Gemüt did. It would cost much to keep him silent if he found the equipment in that warehouse. "What of the men guarding it?"
"All dead." Touji slid into his car and jerked his head towards the passenger door. The agent climbed in quickly. "So far it looks like they were killed by the blast."
"I'll wait for a coroner's report before I accept that," Touji stated. He doubted rather strongly that all his men had been killed by just a blast.
"Of course sir."
(:ii:)
Kensuke frowned as he stepped into his apartment. He was pretty sure that he had left his window closed. As a matter of fact, he was sure of it. Kensuke reached for the pistol under his jacket. He didn't reach it in time as a heavy first slammed into his head and sent him sprawling. The lights flashed on and Kensuke stared at his attacker. "Shinji."
"Kensuke," Shinji replied with a curt nod. "I need a blueprint of the Geo-Front."
"What makes you think I have. . ." Kensuke trailed off as Shinji pulled a long knife out from under his coat. He glanced at the man's face and fought the urge to try escaping. Shinji's face, normally subtly expressive, was empty of all emotion. His eyes, however, burned brightly with something, something that made Kensuke's skin crawl.
"I know you," Shinji stated. "You have the blueprint and I have no problem cutting off appendages until it appears."
"You'd torture an old friend?" Kensuke asked.
"Let me tell you a story," Shinji stated. "Once there was a lowly reporter. He wasn't important, but he was honest. Someone approached that reporter with an offer. They offered him power and money if he would just look the other way or maybe do a little misdirecting in his stories. Maybe the reporter was horrified at first, maybe not, but in the end he took the offer. Now he's the editor and doesn't have to write stories anymore, he just edits and censors those by his employees. Sound familiar?"
"Yeah," Kensuke replied quietly. "How'd you figure it out?"
"I've seen this kind of thing before," Shinji stated. "Amateurs think they have to buy the police first, but pros know that the press has the real power. Now, what about those blue prints?" Kensuke climbed to his feet slowly and made his way towards one of the filing cabinets along the wall.
"So, what set this off?" he asked. "What did you find, Shinji?"
"I found Misato." Kensuke turned and looked at the man.
"Well, where is she?"
"Dead."
"I see." Kensuke opened the cabinet.
"How much do you know?" Shinji asked.
"I'm paid not to know," Kensuke stated. "I'm paid to ignore and I'm good at it." His own words made him feel sick. How had it come to this? When he was young, he thought he could change the world. Then came the offer of money. Well, there were always others who could make the world better, weren't there? "Here." Shinji took the papers and looked them over carefully, tracing a finger along them. "Don't trust me?"
"Of course not." Shinji folded the papers and tucked them in his pocket. "Where do you want it? How about the head?" Kensuke shook violently, the realization that he was about to die hit him hard.
"I'll do it."
"What?"
"I'll do it," Kensuke repeated. "At least let me die with my honor."
"What honor?" With that the pistol kicked and Kensuke's world went black.
(:ii:)
Shinji stared at the dead body of his friend and holstered his pistol. He needed to get out of here. Touji might suspect that he was chasing down the people he knew and come here. Shinji wasn't entirely sure that he could take the man single-handedly, at least not with all the body guards he was bound to have. Once Shinji got his hands on the proper tools, Touji wouldn't be a problem.
"Well, it was nice seeing you again Kensuke." Shinji opened the door and stepped into the hallway beyond. He pulled out his notebook and stared at the few remaining names.
Hikari had been first on his list because of her accessibility and her apathy towards Gemüt. Kensuke had been next because of accessibility. Now only Maya remained on his list of people he knew who he could question. She wouldn't be easy to reach again, not after the events of tonight. Fortunately, Shinji didn't have any more questions. It was definitely time to go for the sources.
-End
(:ii:)
-Author's notes. Depressing? Meh. You can be sad. I'm having fun again. I just realized as I wrote this that just about everyone from the series was either dead already or killed in this chapter. If my numbers are right, only Maya, Asuka, Touji, Rei and Shinji are left. Shit! I just realized that I never included the other two bridge bunnies. Uh. I'm going to just say that they're dead. They died when. . .uh. . .fuck it. They're dead.
Any bets on who's going to be left standing at the end of all this? I'm not even sure yet. I was debating on whether to kill Misato all the way up until I wrote this. Now that she's dead all bets are off.
On a personal note. Detcord is fun. With enough detcord you can do just about anything and using it on propane tanks is an approved Marine Corps improvised method for clearing out houses. Improvised (i.e. pulled out of ass) ideas are a Marine Corps specialty. Especially ideas of how to navigate an obstacle when explosives are handy. I remember a specific conversation that went something like this:
-SSgt: Alright, let's say that this is a locked door. How can we get in? Hands? every hand goes up You.
-Cpl: We could loop detcord around the knob and blow it open.
-SSgt nods: Good. You.
-LCpl: We could use a little C4 to blow the door open.
-SSGT: Alright. You.
-Another LCpl: We could make big loops of detcord and duct tape them to the wall as a breaching charge.
-Yet another LCpl: We could get an Abrams to shoot it!
-SSgt: What happens if someone's inside and we need to get in without hurting them?
-Entire Platoon: Dead Silent as all hands go down
-SSgt: Come on now! Somebody's got to have an idea!
-PFC: We. . .we could shoot. . .no, that wouldn't be good.
-SSgt pinches bridge of nose: I guess we know who to send in, in a hostage situation.
-Entire Platoon: The Marines!
-SSgt: Fuck you! If I was a hostage, I'd rather stay that way and be alive rather than be a friendly-fired corpse.
To be fare, we were getting this class after a long day of being bored and not being able to sleep. Is it any wonder everyone just wanted to cause mayhem? And this is also why you never leave Marines alone without supervision for too long. First it starts with plans and talking and then something happens. As a Marine officer once said: Leave two Marines in a padded room with a rock and wait two hours. When you come back, the rock will be broken and no one will know what happened. Or as an old Army officer said: Leave two infantrymen out in the desert with their rifles, a spade, and a rock. When you come back the rock will be broken, the spade dull, and all ammo expended because infantrymen just gotta fuck with shit.