J. Austin Wilde and Fission Park Press proudly present:

CHASING THE WIND

Part Eight: At What Price Ranma

By J. Austin Wilde, K.B.C.S.

Super Critical Reactor Axe Man,

Fission Park 1/2 is the creation and

Property of Rumiko Takahashi and

Shogakukan/KITTY TV/VIZ.

Synopsis

Ranma and Akane are caught in a science experiment in Nerima that

affects their ki. They experience terrible nightmares and lose their

fighting focus. Neither can get any sleep without being in close proximity

with the other. They call upon the scientists to help them through Ranma's

friend from the Second Korean War, Hiro Ohata. Hiro works for Professor

Balthazar McFogg, the leader of the scientists, as a kind of 'Man Friday.'

Hiro sends them to England where they become embroiled in a worldwide

search for electromagnetic 'events' like the one that affected them in

Nerima. In chasing these events they hope to find a cure, but what they do

find is that there is more going on than they ever imagined.

Ranma meets a mysterious woman named Anazali, who is following them.

She claims to be their friend, and hints that the end of their search will

not only cure their ki problems, but may also end Ranma's Jusenkyo curse.

They receive a vision during the event in Scotland that takes them to Granada,

Spain. From there they experience the next event, and a very disturbing vision

hinting not only of the end of their blossoming relationship, but of a world

wide disaster as well.

Ukyo, Kuno, and Nabiki are kidnapped by agents working for Ivan Tarchenko,

an assistant of a second research group that is studying these events. They are

taken to a dacha outside of Odessa, where Ukyo is tortured. Kuno breaks them

free and they flee across the southern Ukraine. Tarchenko sends a group of men

to pursue them.

They are rescued from their pursuer, a vicious man named Fyodor, by a

stranger, who takes them to a ship belonging to his brother. His brother, named

Aerandir, is no less unusual, and he sails them to an island in the Aegean sea

to stay with his uncle.

Aerandir reveals to them that he is an 8000 year old descendant of an

ancient people whose land was destroyed by forces similar to the event the

scientists are looking for. He explains to them the history of his people and

that if steps are not taken, a second disaster will befall the Earth.

Ranma and Akane in the company of Professor McFogg's research group come

to Monaco for the Prince's Charity Ball. Aerandir leaves his uncle, taking

Nabiki and Kuno with him, and sails to Monaco. Doctor Casimir appears as well,

hoping to talk to McFogg and the Wayfinders, Ranma and Akane. They are all

brought together at the Charity Ball, including Fyodor, who has his own agenda.

Ranma proposes to Akane that night, but before they can share their joyous

announcement with anyone, Fyodor and his agents attack. Hiro and Kuno try to

stop Fyodor, but succeed only in killing one of his men and rescuing Akane.

Ranma is taken away into the night.

Chapter One

Ivan Tarchenko looked through the soundproof glass window to the

examination table where Ranma Saotome lay. He was unconscious and strapped

down with thick leather thongs. Several men in white lab coats hovered over

him, monitoring his vital functions. A large gas-plasma display over the

table projected a series of Electroencephalogram (EEG) waveforms in both

real-time and a scaled time-index format simultaneously. A little over a

hundred electrode leads were glued to various points on his head and base

of his neck, trailing to the EEG processor.

Fyodor entered the side room where Tarchenko stood.

"I see that 'Bronze Horseman' wasn't quite a success," he observed to

the huge Ukrainian.

"There were complications," Fyodor admitted.

"Quite correct, Fyodor. Two agents dead, a third with a ruptured

liver that isn't expected to survive the week, a fourth who will have to

live on broth and gelatin for the next six weeks while his jaw heals enough

to support upper and lower dental prosthesis. Yes, I quite agree there were

complications."

He gestured to the window. His finger pointed directly to Ranma.

"Not the least of which is that I only see Yevgeny lying in there."

Fyodor swallowed.

"Where is his beloved Parasha?" Tarchenko asked sternly.

"We were unable to escape with her. We were unaware that they enjoyed

the support and protection of the Prince."

"It was your job to know such things!"

"Authorization was given at the very last minute!" Fyodor thundered.

"Had you ordered me to act in Spain where we had set up detailed surveillance

and the use of indigenous support -to say nothing of the lack of security

around them, your precious 'Bronze Horseman' scheme would have worked!

Instead you order me into a desperate unrehearsed extraction against

formidable opposition!"

"It is of little matter now," Tarchenko sighed, his demeanor distant

and cool. "A second attempt would be too risky from a political standpoint.

The Prince of Monaco may be restraining himself for the moment, but I do not

think he will a second time."

Fyodor seethed a little more.

"Calm yourself, Fyodor."

"I find it difficult under the circumstances."

"Did you find your remuneration to your liking?"

"It is the only reason I am still here, Ivan Mikhailyvich."

"Good. I may still have some work for you then."

Fyodor raised an eyebrow.

"Yes, Fyodor. Work more suited to your talents. Far less delicate

work than I've asked of you in the recent past."

"Who do you want me to kill?"

"Patience Fyodor. Not yet. I shall contact you. In the meantime enjoy

your money."

Fyodor grunted once and stared down at Tarchenko with hard dark eyes.

Then he turned and left the room. A middle-aged man in a lab coat carrying

a clipboard entered not long after.

"Ah, Doctor Pulatski. What news?"

Pulatski consulted his clipboard.

"The subject is a Japanese male, aged approximately 18 to 21 years.

He is is well nourished and well developed, indicative of regular intensive

physical conditioning. He is in a barbiturate induced state of unconsciousness,

time approximately nine hours. He is normalocephalic, and stable, with no

acute traumas. Preliminary blood work indicates that he was exposed to enough

Nembutal to drop a bull elephant, and I'm told it was necessary to affect

extraction without further casualties to the team. Other than that, the subject

is clear of steroids, narcotics, alcohol, and nicotine."

"In layman's terms?"

The doctor gestured to Ranma through the glass.

"You've got a young healthy clean-living Japanese man in there who is as

strong as an ox and requires dangerous levels of intramuscular barbiturates

to put him down."

"I understand the dangers of the drugs, but what can you tell me from a

more, shall we say, esoteric viewpoint?"

The doctor understood immediately what Tarchenko referred to. That was

the reason he was here.

"His EEG's normal for a man in drug induced narcosis. If you want any

more answers you'll have to let him dry out. I can't administer the

multiphasic personality inventory or any kind of intelligence examinations

with him doped up. I recommend the immediate suspension of his Diprivan

injections."

"That may be dangerous, Doctor, for reasons you have already pointed

out."

"You can still restrain him physically, but I need him coherent for my

tests."

Tarchenko nodded.

"I see... Very well, Doctor, do what you must. But see to it that he

is well restrained."

The doctor agreed with a murmur.

"May I make an alternative suggestion?"

Tarchenko was willing to hear what the doctor had to say.

"Go on."

"The subject is closely attached to a woman, a fianc饠or some sort of

lover. As he has been unconscious since his extraction, he is unaware that

we do not have her in our possession."

Tarchenko smiled evilly.

"I see where you are going with this. Yes, I'm sure if we convinced

him that his cooperation was necessary for the well being of his fianc饬

he would be most compliant."

"I shall see that he is made aware of his circumstances when he

regains consciousness."

"How long will that take?"

"A few hours at the most. His body is proving to be quite resistant to

the drugs."

It was the third day since Ranma had been taken, and still there

was no word on his whereabouts. McFogg's group had taken up

residence in the Palace, where Akane could be protected from a

second kidnapping attempt. In addition to the Prince's men, Nabiki

and Hiro alternated their watch over her, but she remained

withdrawn and silent. The nightmares had also returned without

Ranma's proximity, and she was physically and emotionally a wreck.

Thus far they had been following Doctor Casimir's advice, and

had made no official recognition that the events of that terrible night

had even happened. At the Prince's insistence, the police had

dropped their investigation into the kidnapping, and into a possible

manslaughter charge against Hiro Ohata for the death of Fyodor's

agent. It was fairly obvious that you couldn't acknowledge one

event without the other, and if there was no kidnapping, then

there could be no manslaughter related to that kidnapping. The

luckless agent was being cremated that very day. No autopsy had

been performed, and no one had come asking for the remains. It

was if the man never existed.

That suited Hiro well enough. If he had his way, there would

have been a few more John Does on their way to anonymous

graves via the state funeral home. He paced moodily outside

Akane's room deep in thought.

" They should have learned something by now, " he muttered.

" Spook work always takes time, " Heironymous Durango

replied from a heavy upholstered chair opposite him. " Pacing isn't

going to get anything done faster. "

" I can't help it, " Hiro said bitterly. " I just feel so helpless. "

He sunk against the wall and slid down, clenching his fists tight.

"I was supposed to protect them!" He hissed to himself.

Durango looked across the hall to Hiro, who now sat on the

floor and stewed.

" Don't worry. We'll find him. And then it's pay-back time. "

Hiro looked up at Durango. He said nothing, but the fire in his

eyes spoke volumes.

Aerandir walked down the hall towards them. Anazali and Nabiki

were with him. Hiro wasn't sure what to make of the tall man with

the pale hair and the sea-colored eyes. Nabiki had told him a little

about Aerandir, but Hiro still had his misgivings. Anazali only ranked

slightly higher on his list of people he could trust.

One of the Prince's men stopped them, but when Aerandir

identified himself he was allowed to pass. He stepped up to the

door and waited. Hiro looked up at him.

Aerandir's face was calm as he addressed Hiro.

"Mister Ohata, may I speak with Akane?"

"Something tells me I wouldn't be able to stop you," Hiro replied.

Aerandir offered him a nod of agreement.

"Be that as it may, I do wish to have your approval."

Hiro stood. "Sure. Follow me."

He knocked at the door and entered.

Akane was standing at the window, looking out to the sea.

Merchant ships plied the Mediterranean beyond the window. Tall

masted sailing yachts darted between the bulky freighters and

tankers.

She was still in a nightgown. The bed next to her was unmade.

When she turned around to face them Hiro felt his heart sink to

behold her. She was weary beyond the words it would take to

describe her. Weary and heartsick and emotionally spent. She

didn't have a tear left in her, but still her eyes ached to shed more.

"Hello Akane," Aerandir greeted pleasantly. "I'm told you're

having trouble sleeping?"

Akane managed a short, bitter laugh.

"I can help you perhaps," he said soothingly. "If you would

permit me, of course."

"I can't sleep," she replied in a hoarse voice. "The nightmares...

Without Ranma close by, the nightmares return. It's too much for

me."

"Aerandir can help you sleep, dear." It was Anazali who said

this to her. "He can keep the nightmares from you."

"Please let him help you sis," Nabiki added.

Akane did want to sleep. Desperately. But the terror of those

nightmares she had experienced were far worse than any she had

endured in Nerima. Now that Ranma had pledged to share his very

life with her, the thought of losing him forever was beyond endurance.

Her nightmares reflected that loss with a dull edged pain that had

sawed pitilessly through her soul in the last three days.

"I can't," she sobbed. Hiro was ready to kick them all out and

force them to leave her alone. At least then it would lessen the pain

that their presence was inflicting upon her. Aerandir nodded sadly,

then pulled his flute from his tunic.

Nabiki's songbirds suddenly flew through the door and alighted

upon her shoulder. Nabiki looked to them, and they sang brightly

for her. In spite of herself, Akane smiled.

Aerandir offered a hand to Akane, and begged that she sit upon

the bed. "Very well then, I won't force you to sleep. Allow me

instead to sing for you, that I may ease your worries."

Akane found that she couldn't resist him. She sat back on the

bed and waited for him to begin. Aerandir looked to the little

songbirds who perched upon Nabiki's shoulder, and they trilled in

reply. He put the flute to his lips, and blew a soft haunting note.

The birds had their key, and began to sing.

Aerandir joined them, and they fell into harmony.

"What skies upon the east do glow

That sound the harken to sun's warm grace

To make the new world stir and grow

And brings light to shine upon man's face

Farewell to ice and bitter cold

Abjure the snow and banish the waste

Bring forth the rays that shine like gold

Arise ye men, Spring's sweet dew to taste."

As Aerandir sang, Akane began to sink down upon the bed.

Her eyes became heavy and she started to drift away. The song

was an ancient one, from an epic that detailed the rise of the Maiar.

Hiro watched dumbfounded at Aerandir as he began another song:

a lullaby to the accompaniment of the songbirds, and of Anazali

who joined him, though her voice was in the tongue of the Maiar.

"Sing we now sweetly and dreams let us weave her,

Wind her in slumber and there let us leave her!

The lady does sleepeth, now light be her heart!

Love is her armor, we are her shield,

Of all that we wish her, our hopes are revealed:

Never from her light, nor love shall she part!

Sing we now sweetly and dreams let us weave her,

Wind her in slumber and there let us leave her!"

Akane was now fast asleep. Aerandir placed a hand softly upon

her brow and whispered something in her ear. She murmured a

reply and sank back into the bed with a slight smile pursed upon

her lips. The songbirds fell silent upon Nabiki's shoulder.

The mariner sank back upon a chair and rubbed at his temple.

He looked suddenly very tired and at once showed perhaps a sign

of his vast age. Anazali gave him the fondest smile then and retired

from the room.

"You should see to her Mister Ohata," Aerandir said to him.

Hiro shook his head as if awakening from a dream. He saw that

Akane was slumbering peacefully, the first time he had seen her do

so in three days. With the greatest care he lifted the sheets from the

bed and set her beneath them. Nabiki was nearly bursting with relief.

She leaned over and kissed Aerandir's brow.

"Thank you Aerandir," she said to him.

"As always; I am your servant, Nabiki."

He rubbed at his temple again. "She will sleep very deeply, free

from the imbalances to her essence which have brought her such

torment. I have lent her a bit of my own to carry her through this

day, and I have given her a very special dream as well. When she

awakens tomorrow morning she will be restored to health."

Hiro looked to Aerandir. His opinion of the man had just grown

by an order of magnitude. Then he returned his attention to Akane,

and watched over her. It was in some small way a redress for having

failed them once.

"Look after her well, Mister Ohata," Aerandir admonished him

as he rose from the chair. "I shall retire to Kelebros. Look for me

there if any should need me."

Nabiki stopped him gently with a hand at his arm. When he

turned to see what she wanted, she cocked her head to the

songbirds that were now silent on her shoulder.

"I thought you didn't like them, so how did you get them to

cooperate like that with the songs?"

"I have reached an understanding with them," he replied. "In

return for their silence to my uncle, I continue to allow them to be

near you. They're rather fond of you actually, so I think we have

nothing to worry about."

This was still all so weird for her, but when he told her that

the songbirds liked her, she became very pleased with the idea.

It reinforced her notion that they were hers, sort of. Sensing this,

the birds suddenly twittered affectionately in her ear.

"Do they have names?" She found herself asking him.

Aerandir nodded.

"Their personal names to each other do not translate very well

I'm afraid. My uncle calls them Innael, Birathiel, and Gliredhel."

The three birds each chirped at the mention of their name

"They are named for my uncle's three sisters who perished with

the drowning of Maianar. He would sometimes speak to me about

them and their beautiful singing voices, but I'm afraid these three

birds are all that I will ever know of them... My uncle granted them

a remarkable span of years."

Nabiki let him go after that. She didn't have anything she could

say in reply. Innael took wing then and flew over to the headboard

of the bed where Akane slept. Birathiel and Gliredhel chirped once

and then joined their sister. Together on the headboard they began

to sing very softly to Akane, and Nabiki beamed at them.

Hiro watched all of this still a little confused. In any event he was

happy to see Akane resting peacefully and the sight of Nabiki and

her wondrous songbirds made him feel as if they had a powerful

ally in the mariner named Aerandir. For the first time since Ranma's

abduction, he felt hope.

"Are you going to stay here awhile?" He asked Nabiki.

Nabiki nodded and sat down to listen to the birds and to watch

over her baby sister.

"I was going to see about lunch. Would you like anything?" He

continued.

"If you would please. That would be nice." She had found herself

liking Hiro even though it could be argued that he and his scientist

employers had gotten them in this mess in the first place.

"I'll see what I can do."

"Thank you, Hiro."

Hiro nodded and got up on his feet. He glanced once at Akane

and left the room.

Tatewaki Kuno appeared some time later. Nabiki gestured for

him to be silent, and pointed to Akane's sleeping form. Kuno began

to beam with happiness.

"Hello Kuno-baby," she said to him quietly.

Kuno was relieved that she hadn't called him 'Tate-chan'

again. To hear that name from her lips confused him so. That

it was presumption beyond forgiveness was certain, but why

he had been unable to reproach her for such familiarity was

the source of his confusion. He settled for a short nod of

acknowledgment.

"I see the lovely Akane is at last within the sheltering arms of

Morpheus," he observed.

"Aerandir sang her a lullaby. She went right out."

Kuno nodded sagely.

After that, their store of small talk was exhausted.

They stood or sat in silence. The only sounds in the room were

the soft singing of Nabiki's birds, the deep even breaths Akane took,

and the ticking of a clock on the mantle of the fireplace. It was

almost laughable, except that the two of them were too busy

thinking about others things to notice how quiet the room had

become.

Nabiki was still trying to figure out what had been going through

her head when she engaged Kuno in that kiss. It was a stupid thing

to do, she told herself. You're lucky he didn't attach himself

to you on the spot.

She wanted to chalk it up to the romance of the moment.

Attaching that rationalization to her thoughts wasn't coming very

easy though. She thought back to that night, and their kiss. She

had never been kissed like that before. Ever. It felt so good to be

loved like that, even if just for a few moments. Even by Tatewaki

Kuno.

Her eyes drifted over to Kuno, who stood solemnly watching

over Akane. There wasn't any of the usual adoration in his eyes

when he looked at Akane, meaning that he was in his Protector

mode again. It was the mantle he had assumed over Ukyo and

herself when they had escaped from the Russians.

Had all of that just been part of the little dramas he played

out in his head? She suddenly wondered. She thought of how

caring and strong he had been for the three of them. How open he

had been with her as they walked for many kilometers across the

southern Ukraine. It was so unlike him that it had to be genuine.

She laughed quietly to herself about how ridiculous that sounded.

One way to find out...

She had to know. Even if she wasn't sure she wanted to find

out. She gave herself a mental kick in the rear and pressed on.

Timid was an adjective that did not apply to Nabiki Tendo, and

she wasn't going to have that sentiment proved wrong.

She cleared her throat for attention.

"Hey Kuno-baby," she said to him.

Tatewaki Kuno was jolted out of his reflection and cast a

questioning glance in her direction.

"Yes Nabiki?" He asked.

Yes Nabiki-? Not 'Yes Nabiki Tendo?'

All of a sudden she felt very nervous. Maybe Kuno was a

little hung up on her. She mustered her cool again and rose to her

feet.

"I wanted to talk to you about the other night," she began. It

was true enough: they hadn't said a word about it to each other

since then. She had downplayed it in her own mind, and Kuno was

trying his best to deny that it had ever happened.

"Yes Nabiki?" He seemed quite oblivious to her intentions.

She walked over to him. He watched her approach with a

casual eye but said nothing. When she was standing before him

and looking up into his eyes he began to cross his arms over his

chest.

She stopped him with a hand on his arm and brought it down

to his side, never taking her eyes off his. Her gall was astounding,

even if Kuno expected as much from her. He began to say

something, but Nabiki cut him off.

"I want to know if what happened between us was just a heat

of the moment thing, or if there was more to it."

"Whatever are you talking about, Nabiki Tendo?" Kuno replied,

just a hint of defensiveness in his voice.

How can he be so stubbornly ignorant? Nabiki railed

inwardly. Just how big is that fantasy world of his?

"I'm talking about this," she said sternly.

She stood up on her toes and kissed him warmly, throwing her

arms around his neck and pulling herself close to him. She was

about to break the kiss when it seemed he wasn't going to respond,

but then his arms went around her and he deepened their embrace.

Then she broke the kiss.

She bobbed back down on her heels and looked at him for a

minute. He looked a little surprised, and did she dare think hurt

by her sudden suspension of affection? She turned her back to

him and returned to her chair.

"Thanks Kuno-baby, that's all I wanted to know."

Tatewaki Kuno stood paralyzed in the middle of the room.

When at last he could move he spared a single guilty look to Akane,

then a confused one for Nabiki. Nabiki watched him with sharp

eyes, taking in his distress.

It serves him right for being such an insensitive clod about the

whole affair.

"If you're looking for poetic words of undying love to Akane,

you had best save your breath Kuno-baby," she told him after he

turned longing eyes to her sleeping sister.

He didn't reply, he just watched Akane and sighed.

"Ranma proposed to her that night," Nabiki went on. "She said

'yes'."

Kuno sighed again. He had heard vicious rumors to this effect,

but the tone of Nabiki's voice told him that the rumors were true.

It was one thing to be trapped in an arranged marriage and still pine

for one's true love. It was another to commit to that marriage out

of one's own free will. As disgusting and terrible as being the wife

of the contemptible Ranma Saotome seemed to him, he realized

that Akane Tendo was forever lost to him.

He was an honorable man. As much as he disliked Saotome

(and even more so for finally stealing Akane away from him), he

would abide by their engagement. Unless he could prove that

Saotome had used some sort of coercion, their engagement was

valid, and he would do what he could for Akane that she would be

happy.

Nabiki could see the sudden sad turn in Kuno's expression. It

had gone beyond the noble melancholy he affected when things

didn't go his way, it was grievous injury. She felt very sorry for

him then. It bothered her to see him that way.

Suddenly it seemed as if a light bulb lit up above his head.

Granted, it was only a twenty watt bulb, but something had

instantly jerked him out of his sad reflection and put an ever

growing smile on his face. His eyes took on that mad glow that

occurred when his ego ballooned out of control. Nabiki tensed in

her chair, waiting for him to spill forth whatever epiphany he had.

"If Akane Tendo be the fianc饠of the accursed Saotome of

her own will, then he has no more hold upon the Pig-Tailed Girl!

At last this cup has passed from me! My way is clear! Oh Love

reveals her true face at last!"

He struck a dramatic pose and raised his sword on high. Tears

streamed down his face.

" 'Let not my love be call'd idolatry,

Nor my beloved as an idol show,

Since all alike are my songs and praises be

To one, of one, still such, and ever so.

Kind is my love today, tomorrow kind,

Still constant in a wondrous excellence;

Therefore my verse to consistency confined,

One thing expressing, leaves out difference.

'Fair, kind, and true,' is all my argument,

'Fair, kind, and true,' varying to other words;

And in this change is my invention spent,

Three themes in one, which wondrous scope affords.

'Fair, kind, and true,' have often lived alone,

Which three till now never kept seat in one.'"

The three songbirds stopped their quiet lullaby for Akane and

turned their attention to Kuno. Even for birds, the look they gave

him was one of alarm for his madness. Part of Nabiki wanted to

scream at him. The other part, the one still in control, instead

offered him a fond smile.

"I'm glad you worked this out Kuno-baby," she told him.

"Oh would that this adventure was of its conclusion reached!"

He cried in rare form. "That I may return to bask in the sweet glow

of the Pig-Tailed Girl's love!"

With that he started for the door, bowing low once for Akane,

who continued to sleep oblivious to Kuno's passionate outburst,

before leaving.

Nabiki shook her head sadly.

Oh Tate-chan, you are so hopeless...

Hiro appeared with a knock at the door. He had a wheeled tray

with lunch at his side. He pushed the tray into the room quietly for

fear of awakening Akane.

"Don't worry about the noise, Hiro," Nabiki said to him. "Kuno

was just in here bellowing, and she didn't move a muscle."

"I thought I heard a familiar voice from down the hall.

Shakespeare?"

Nabiki gave him a knowing smile. "One of the stanzas from the

Sonnets I believe."

"That wasn't hard to guess," Hiro said flatly. He gestured to the

tray. "Any preferences?"

Nabiki found that she didn't have much of an appetite anymore,

but gamely reached for a bowl of consomm頡nd a piece of bread

from the basket to keep up appearances.

Chapter Two

Ranma glared at the man who had introduced himself as Ivan.

The Russian for his part sat calmly across a table from him while a

few men in lab coats finished last minute touches on the array of

sensory gear emplaced around the martial artist. Doctor Pulatski

and an unkempt gentleman in a dirty sweater and stained trousers

watched from the corner of the room. A man acting as a translator

took his place by Tarchenko's side.

Ranma had a splitting headache, no doubt the side effects of

whatever they had dosed him with in Monaco. Ever since his

awakening he had been questioned, prodded, probed, scanned,

and in general turned into their guinea pig. That was three days ago.

He recognized some of the tests they had performed on him as

being similar to ones McFogg's researchers had used on himself

and Akane when they first came to London. McFogg's men had

been a bit more civil about it than the Russians.

He looked around him. He was in the examination room, a

short walk from his windowless holding cell. He had no idea

where in the world he was, but had the sinking feeling it wasn't

anywhere near Monaco.

" Are we comfortable? " Tarchenko asked. The translator

repeated the question in Japanese.

"Go fuck yourself," Ranma replied curtly.

" Tut tut, Mister Saotome, that's no way to speak to someone

who literally holds your fianc饧s life in his hands. "

Ranma took the translator's words with a snarl, trying to leap

up out of his chair. For a moment in his rage he had forgotten that

he was bound in a straight-jacket and chained down to the floor.

They had learned about his prodigious strength soon after he had

regained consciousness. An agent was learning to live with one arm

broken backwards at the elbow for his carelessness.

Tarchenko made a gesture to the straight-jacket.

" Are we quite finished yet? "

"Let me see that Akane's all right and I will be!"

" You are just going to have to take my word for her well

being, " Tarchenko replied. " By now you realize what terrible

things are in our power to do to her if you don't cooperate. Know

that I am quite capable of turning these men loose upon her. "

Tarchenko gestured to Ranma's three hulking playmates for

the last three days. They were the ones who were for a lack of a

better term his handlers. They were ones who moved him from

his cell to the examination room and back again, who lashed him

down and beat him whenever they felt he wasn't cooperating.

Which was often. Ranma's body in fact was a wealth of welts,

bruises, and contusions.

Ranma wasn't all that sure they had Akane anymore. Before

he blacked out he had heard Hiro and Kuno's voices approaching.

It was possible that they could have rescued her, and that the

Russian was just bluffing. On the other hand there was no way

he was going to take any chances with Akane's life.

" Let's begin the interview, shall we? " Tarchenko asked.

Instruments flicked on with hums and whirs. A tape recorder was

switched on. Ranma could see other men enter the room in the

shadows behind Tarchenko.

When the 'interview' was over, Ranma's handlers dragged his

dazed body out of the examination room and to his holding cell.

The beatings hadn't been very bad, it was just that he hadn't been

getting any sleep because of the nightmares. The questions Ivan

had asked were absolutely nonsensical. They had nothing to do

with McFogg's group, or the events, or how Ranma could sense

them. Nevertheless the assembled interrogators took them quite

seriously, and forced him to answer with the first thing that came

to mind.

The cell door swung open and he was thrown inside. He

wished they would take the straight-jacket off so he could move

his arms. The leg irons they gave him were digging into the flesh

of his ankles. What was left of his tuxedo was mostly tatters.

The door slammed shut and he was in darkness again. He felt

his way to the foam mattress in the corner and dragged himself

onto it. He had no desire to sleep, even though he was exhausted.

The nightmares would come for him if he slept.

He sobbed just once before catching himself. His tears weren't

for himself, they were for Akane. Even if the Russians didn't have

her, she would be prey to the nightmares the same as he. The

thought that she was also suffering, no matter where, was a cold

spike through his heart.

"Well, Doctor?" Tarchenko asked.

Pulatski consulted his notes.

"He is only of average intelligence. Personality tests indicate a

strong moral core coupled with an abnormally independent motivational

center. He's tough, opinionated, inflexible, and confrontational. In

addition he has a strong value sense concerning life and the well being

of others -provided they don't conflict with his personal value system.

We had a good example of this during his extraction: he was capable of

killing a man barehanded to protect his fianc饬 and seriously injured

several others.

"Analysis of neural pathways is indicative of advanced motor and

reflex control. That's in keeping with his martial artist profession,

but we've found some other interesting indications as well."

"Go on."

"While his neural architecture is not compliant with accepted

standards of psionic aptitude, his fourth brain structures are highly

developed. There is no corresponding cerebellum enlargement or pons

activity under PET scan, however. Kirlian analysis supports the theory

that while he is capable of focusing large amounts of psionic potential,

he has none of the accepted psionic talents."

"Then he's a latent psychic?" Tarchenko asked.

"No," the unkempt man interjected. "Not at all. He displays no

aptitude for the so-called sensitive talents. No telepathy, no empathic

transference, no precognition, no psychometry. He has a slight Kirlian

awareness, but his index isn't remarkably higher than an average person.

I can sense no parapsionic awareness within him."

"What are you getting at, gentlemen?"

Pulatski fielded this one. "Given separately, his physical aptitude

and his fourth brain development are meaningless. However, when combined

we believe he may be able to gather, focus, and project energy from

himself and his surroundings. That would make him an advanced physical

archetype."

Tarchenko had heard that term before. He'd never seen one in action,

but the stories were fascinating. Men who could perform ridiculous feats

of strength and agility, some who could even project psionic energy

blasts! Now he felt better about keeping his young Japanese prisoner

tightly bound.

"You think he is one?"

"Current evidence supports this conclusion," Pulatski replied.

Tarchenko nodded slowly.

"In regards to his sensitivity to the events. What is his

connection?"

The two men conferred for a moment.

Pulatski spoke up. "We don't have any quantitative evidence to

support any theories, but--"

"--Tell me what you think."

"We don't think that he is, in and of himself, sensitive to these

events. There is an outside influence at work here. We believe that

it may be in part responsible for the traumatic dream states that

plague him in REM sleep."

Tarchenko felt as if they were holding back from him. He would

have none of that.

"There's more to it of course. Do go on."

"It's possible that an outside presence is directing him. Although

we are at a loss to localize such a presence if it exists."

"I see... So his usefulness has reached its end?"

The men understood what Tarchenko was implying.

Pulatski again spoke up. "We would like to observe him for another

two or three days if possible. There is so much we can learn from him

regarding other paranormal fields, that it would be a waste to get rid

of him so soon."

"You must understand my position as well," Tarchenko cautioned.

"Our presence with this young man is making our landlords nervous." He

gestured to the ceiling, where above them was the bustling activity of

the Russian Embassy to France. "I give you forty-eight hours."

"We understand," Pulatski replied. He and the unkempt man known as

Toschev offered good-days and left the examination room.

Doctor Casimir entered the Salon in the early evening with a pile

of papers in his hands and a broad smile upon his face. Professor

McFogg, Prince Rainier, Clay and Ferguson, Heironymous Durango

and D-Day, Hiro, and Kuno were already present. They were

smoking, drinking tea, and conferring among themselves. The

mood in the room was subdued, even angry.

" I have found him! " Casimir cried.

This garnered immediate attention.

" Ranma? " McFogg asked hopefully.

" He's in Paris, " Casimir told them.

" How did you ever discover this, Grigory? " Prince Rainier

asked in wonderment. None of his discreet inquiries with the French

had been successful.

Casimir took a seat in a leather bound chair and reached for the

silver teapot. Only after pouring himself a cup of Earl Grey did he

speak. The room was silent in expectation.

" Tarchenko may have him, but he can't hope to do anything

with him without the assistance of certain specialists, " Casimir

began. " He would need Doctor Vladimir Pulatski- "

" -The leading parapsychologist in the world, " Clay was

quick to interject. It took one to know one.

" And Mikhail Toschev, among others. Toschev is a very

talented psychic who found dubious employment with the Special

Services Section of the KGB. He is a pitiless and cruel man, and

likely fits in with Vanya's group. " Casimir supplied mournfully.

He had never fully trusted Tarchenko, but this betrayal had been

especially difficult to put behind him.

" So how does this tell us where Ranma is? " Hiro asked.

" I'm getting to that boy, patience! As I was saying, Vanya

needs these men to learn anything from Ranma. I made a few

discreet phone calls to some old friends in the establishment and

learned that both of these men and a small research team attached

to them had been themselves recently attached to the Diplomatic

Mission in Paris. It appears that Vanya doesn't yet know that I've

thrown in with your lot, or I suspect he would have taken steps

to restrict my inquiries. "

" So you think this proves anything? " Durango snorted.

" Men like Pulatski and Toschev do not get attached to

Diplomatic units, " Casimir said calmly. " They work in well

funded laboratories. Even if Toschev was in Paris to ply his singular

talents for the Intelligence community, he would not require a full

research staff to do it. "

" I'm sold, " Hiro declared. " Now where in Paris are we

talking? "

" The Russian Embassy I'm afraid, " Casimir replied.

Everyone gave a collective series of curses and groans.

" Hitting a safe house would be one thing, but the goddamn

Embassy? " Durango said bitterly. " That's hairy. Real hairy. "

" Likely the reason they took him there, " Ferguson noted.

Aerandir entered the room with Anazali. The men all stood for

the tall and graceful Maiar woman. Anazali chose to stand at the

far end of the salon, away from the others. Aerandir took a chair

next to the Prince.

"We would like it known that we pledge our support in

rescuing Ranma Saotome," Aerandir declared. Anazali nodded

from across the room.

" We are deeply in your debt Aerandir, " Prince Rainier

replied fondly.

" Well that's all well and good, but we need a plan for this to

work, " Hiro said to them. " We can't just waltz into the Russian

Embassy, find wherever they're hiding him, and spring him without

getting into the middle of serious trouble. "

" A diversion would be good, " Durango announced.

" From your tone I would say you already had an idea for one,

Mister Durango, " the Professor replied.

" You could say that, " he replied. He lit up a Don Diego

Churchill and began to puff away.

It was well past midnight when Nabiki walked into the Salon.

There was a haze of cigar and pipe smoke hanging in the air, and

the remains of sandwiches and other no effort foods were scattered

on tables. Papers, maps, memo pads and other sundries were

likewise scattered about. A servant entered with a large silver

coffee pot on a tray. He set it next to the men as they gathered

around a large table that had been moved from one of the dining

rooms to the salon. A few of them grunted acknowledgment and

poured fresh cups for themselves.

She thumbed through the papers. Most of them were faxes

from all over Europe, but mostly from Paris. One of them looked

suspiciously like a blueprint or technical drawing. For the public

utilities of all things.

Nabiki watched Heironymous Durango as he chewed on the

end of a pencil while he and D-Day pored over a navigational

chart of the local Paris airspace. They wrote down various

communications frequencies, informational squawks, and

beacons on a set of notepads. D-Day checked them with

some other notes they'd taken earlier. Then he began rambling

on about fuel ladders. One of the Prince's men was on a phone

line getting them weather information.

She moved on to the others. Hiro was going over an inventory

of the small arms Durango and D-Day had with them aboard

Bettie's Dare. Kuno meditated in silence because he had little to

offer the group other than his sword.

McFogg was in the middle of a phone call on another line while

one of the Prince's men monitored the line against wiretaps from

equipment housed in a briefcase. Ferguson took down instructions

and notes from McFogg as he relayed information from where

Nabiki presumed to be London. He was puffing away rather

furiously on his pipe as he spoke.

Clay was talking with Aerandir and Anazali in one corner of

the room. He seemed to be detailing some sort of plan to the two

Maiar, who would occasionally shake their heads and correct him

on some point or other. For the most part they seemed to be

agreeing, which made Nabiki feel a little better.

Casimir was on a third line, also being monitored against

wiretap, and speaking in animated Russian with whoever was on

the other side of the line. He jotted down notes and passed them

over to McFogg and Durango. Occasionally the Catalina pilot

would have a question regarding the scientist's sloppy handwriting,

and particularly because some of the notes taken were in Russian.

All of this James Bond stuff was a little overwhelming, even

for a woman who prided herself on being well connected in the

right circles. For a moment she wished Akane was awake just so

she would have someone she could talk to. She watched them

work for awhile. At least the activity indicated that they had some

sort of plan to rescue Ranma from Tarchenko.

" Nabiki, could you be so kind as to come over here please? "

The Professor asked her.

She had barely gotten to know the Professor in the last two

days, but it was easy to see why Ranma and Akane trusted him.

She wondered if she was looking like the fifth wheel that she felt

she was. When she joined him at the table he handed her a notepad

with various scribblings and asked her if she could make a few

phone calls.

It was busy-work, but the alternative was sitting alone and

worrying. She took the notebook and proceeded to the last

available phone line that the Prince's people had hastily installed

in the Salon. She looked over the notes and got to work.

After awhile her old talents of making connections and getting

people to do what she wanted started paying off. Contacts she had

never known before began complying to her wishes as she applied

a little manipulation here, a little promise of grease there. Just like

old times. She looked over to the Professor, who was smiling in

admiration of her efforts, and wondered just what her sister had

told the Professor about her these last few weeks.

Akane awoke just before lunch the next day. She seemed to

look much better than she had the previous day. As Aerandir had

promised, she had suffered no nightmares, but in fact had a rather

pleasant dream featuring Ranma.

Reality asserted itself once again with consciousness. Hiro was

quick to allay her worries by telling her they had found where

Ranma was being kept and that they were going after him that

night. Of course Akane was adamant about going with them.

"Out of the question!" Hiro had protested. "It's too dangerous."

She had argued with him for awhile, then finally relented.

Nabiki wasn't too sure about her sister buckling so easy, but

kept it to herself. Her part in this plan detailed that she leave

with Ferguson and Anazali early that afternoon on a commercial

air flight to set a few things up in Paris. Akane was Hiro's

problem after that.

The PBY-5A Catalina floated alongside the slip as the Monaco

sky began to darken with sunset. Hiro and Kuno loaded the last of

the gear they were bringing with them. D-Day crawled along the

top of the wing, checking that engine and control surface access

panels were securely in place. Aerandir could be seen through the

cockpit canopy talking to Durango as the pilot went through his

preflight checklists. Clay poked his head out of the dorsal hatch

and took a heavy duffel bag from Hiro.

When they had finished stowing everything, Durango asked if

they were ready.

Hiro looked to Kuno, who looked to Clay, who looked to

Aerandir. The mariner was wearing a black cloak and an equally

dark expression. His sword lay over his lap in its scabbard. He

nodded his head.

His reason for joining them was clear. It was likely that his

uncle Sarophan was ultimately behind the Russians, and that one

of his own kind was surreptitiously watching over the Embassy.

He would deal with that threat should it arise. He only hoped he

could stop whoever had been detailed for such an assignment

without killing him.

" Right! " Durango cried. " Cast us off! "

D-Day scrambled over to the little cleat just outside the door

when he was pushed aside by Akane Tendo. She was dressed

in a dark wool pullover sweater and black sweatpants. Black

running shoes completed her outfit. Despite her efforts, the last

thing she looked like was a commando.

" Hey! " D-Day protested. She ignored him.

Akane climbed aboard Bettie's Dare.

"Where do you think you're going?" Hiro asked.

"I'm coming with you," she said matter-of-factly.

"Absolutely not!" Hiro yelled at her. "You are not going with

us! I don't want anything happening to you."

"I'm a martial artist!" Akane yelled back in protest. "I'm

prepared to get hurt!"

Hiro turned crimson. He ripped open his shirt to reveal an ugly

scar to the right of his breastbone. From his pocket he produced a

jagged, halfway unraveled piece of dull grey metal flecked with

copper and thrust it in her face.

"When one of these comes crashing into you at fifteen hundred

feet per second you'll wish all it did was 'hurt'!" He thundered.

Kuno and D-Day were about to step in and calm him down when

Hiro lowered his voice. Although Kuno wouldn't tolerate Hiro's

outburst to Akane under other circumstances, he knew from first

hand experience that the former infantryman and comrade in arms

was correct.

"This thing hit me the day the North Koreans kicked us off our

hill. The same day your friend Gosunkugi got hit. It went in through

my body armor, drilled right through the chicken-plate, and entered

into my chest. From there it grazed my lung, missed my heart by

about three millimeters, gouged a nice groove through the edge of

my spine, and was about halfway out my backside when it hung

up on one of my ribs."

Akane looked with horror at the oblong scar on Hiro's chest.

She tried to imagine what it was like for the jagged piece of metal

in his hand to have gone through him like that. It never occurred

to her that the reason it was so jagged and deformed was

because it had gone through him. Now she understood why

he had been reluctant to take his tank top off at the beach.

"The bullet missed everything important, but I still felt like I

was being turned inside-out," he said in as grim and serious a

voice as he could. "I was in so much pain they had to shoot me

up with morphine just to get me to stop screaming."

He held the spent round up to the light.

"There are going to be hundreds of these little bastards flying

through the air if and when things go wrong. I don't want you

anywhere near them. The only way I ever want you to know

about what it's like to get shot is to hear it from someone else."

"I don't care!" Akane cried. "I'm going and you can't stop me!"

She glared at him with a look that bordered on despair.

Hiro was wounded to see that in her eyes, but his concern for

her overrode any ideas of placating her. He lowered his head

wearily. For a moment she thought he was going to give in.

"Are you going to be doing him any favors if you get yourself

killed?" He hissed angrily at her. He hated himself for being so

mean to her, but goddammit why couldn't she understand?

"I love him!" She protested. "Ranma would move Heaven

and Earth for me if our positions were reversed. Tell me he

wouldn't!"

Hiro couldn't deny that. He'd seen it on a mountain in North

Korea.

"Now it's my turn to do this for him," she said sternly. "I am

going with you."

Hiro was about to take his life into his hands and try and

remove her forcibly from the Catalina when Aerandir stopped

him with a gentle tug of his arm. He turned around to glare at

the mariner. His mouth opened in rebuke. He didn't care what

kind of powers the mariner had, there was no way he would

allow Akane to go.

Aerandir cut him off.

"Let her accompany us Mister Ohata. I sense that her presence

will be very necessary in locating Ranma." He looked to Clay.

"Wouldn't you agree, Mister Clay?"

Clay squinted his eyes at Akane for a moment.

" You may be right Mister Aerandir, " the parapsychologist

replied.

" Excuse me? " Hiro groused.

"Mister Clay and others who are sensitive to such things can

see something very special with Akane. They can use it to locate

Ranma."

"Huh?" Hiro replied, wondering what Aerandir was driving at.

"Mister Clay?" Aerandir gestured to the parapsychologist that

he might explain.

Clay cleared his throat. " I can see a red string floating from

her heart when I concentrate, " he said solemnly. Akane suddenly

blushed furiously at the same time that enormous happiness welled

within her.

" What? "

" I'm what you would call a psychic sensitive, " Clay explained.

" That's why I got into such a controversial field of science as

parapsychology. I don't have a lot of the abilities of most genuine

psychics, but I can see certain things that most people can't. "

" What's a red string got to do with anything? " Hiro protested.

He thought he remembered a little folklore on the subject, but nothing

was coming to him.

" The strongest of loves are bound to each other by discrete

lines of psionic force, too weak to be detected by conventional

electromagnetic instruments like the Kirlian. However, the human

brain can be sensitive enough to sense these lines of force. They

connect to people with very strong bonds. I can follow Akane's

line straight to Ranma if we can get the two close enough. "

" How close is that? " Hiro asked. He could see his attempts

at getting Akane off the seaplane were failing and would argue

anything at this point.

" Perhaps as far as a hundred meters away. I have seen their

force line from such a distance before. "

Akane knew victory when she saw it. She took a seat next to

Aerandir and Kuno and offered him a wicked smile of smug

satisfaction. Hiro clenched his fists tight and stuffed his 'lucky

bullet' in his pocket.

"I don't fucking believe this," he cursed to himself.

Durango called down to them.

" You guys through pissin' and moanin' so we can get this

show on the road? "

"You may proceed at your discretion Mister Durango," Aerandir

replied.

" 'Bout goddamn time. Come on D-Day, let's go. "

D-Day cast them off and secured the door. Then he proceeded

to the cockpit. The supercharged radial piston engines of Bettie's

Dare exploded to life moments later. As the engine noise increased,

the seaplane began to taxi out of the La Condamine marina.

Durango firewalled the engines once they got clear, and the

Catalina lurched into the air minutes later. He brought the plane

into a shallow turn and headed north by northwest, Paris bound.

Hiro retreated to the cockpit because he couldn't stand the thought

of Akane coming with them. It was bad enough that he was scared

about losing his own life, but to lose Akane's was beyond imagining.

" We're talking about 500 nautical miles to Paris, or about three

hours at our present speed, " Durango announced for them. They

were well aware of their time table, but a little reinforcement never

hurt.

Bettie's Dare disappeared into a darkening cloud bank as the

sun sunk over the western horizon.

Chapter Three

Ranma awoke with great gasp for breath. Cold sweat rolled

down his face as he shook away the last vestiges of the nightmare

he had suffered. It was a very familiar one, and he started to

wonder if there was any meaning behind it.

Once again he dreamed that he was fighting people atop the

Eiffel Tower. Akane was there, and she was fighting them too.

Then she was pushed over the side, and he jumped after her,

and together they plummeted straight down. He woke up before

they could hit the ground.

He wiped the sweat away from his eyes. Someone had

eventually prevailed upon his jailers to remove the straight-jacket

during the short periods when he was allowed sleep. Double sets

of manacles took the straight-jacket's place. At least he could move

a little. Perhaps even break them if he tried hard enough.

If Kuno could do it, he thought, remembering back to the

short bit of catching up they'd shared with Nabiki before the Ball.

I gotta be able to do it.

He was almost certain by now that they didn't have Akane in

their clutches. It was a little strange, but he felt as if he would

know if she was around. It didn't feel like it, and the way he

was treated today suggested that it wouldn't matter shortly.

All the more reason to try and get out of here. They aren't

going to just let me go when they're done with me. I gotta think

of something.

He looked down at his manacles. They had a little play in them

so as not to cut off the circulation, but there was no way he was

going to wriggle them off his wrists.

Unless I suddenly got a lot smaller...

He looked over to the stainless steel toilet basin in the corner

by the dim crack of light from the bottom of the door. He didn't

need a lot, just enough to transform. He crawled over to the toilet

and splashed up water upon himself.

It was tepid, but just cold enough to do the job. He felt himself

shrink into the tattered fabric of his ruined tuxedo. His breasts

swelled from his chest even as his wrists and ankles shrunk in

their manacles. The things nearly fell off him as he became a girl.

Ranma-chan slipped off her manacles and stepped out of her

leg irons. It wasn't much, but this was the closest she'd been to

freedom in three days. She knew that she couldn't get the door

open as a girl, and doubted that she would have the strength or

the focus to blast it open. All she needed to do was bide her time

and wait for them to come for her.

And wouldn't they be in for a surprise.

Nabiki and Ferguson stopped the truck along the Right Bank of

the river Seine near Bercy. It was late evening and the many barges

and boats that plied the river were now moored. She could see the

glow of the Eiffel Tower in the distance, just barely in sight past the

distant Notre Dame Cathedral upon the Ile de la Cite, across the

water. Anazali stepped out from the passenger side and surveyed

their surroundings.

They were on the eastern end of Paris. The express lanes along

the Right bank were to the west of them and a large industrial park

was on the other side of the river. There wasn't much traffic here,

vehicular or otherwise.

"I believe this is the place," she said to them.

" Okay Fergy-baby, you know what to do, " Nabiki told him.

Ferguson nodded and engaged the parking brake. He left the

motor running as he stepped out of the cab.

" This would go a little faster if you helped, lass, " he told her.

Nabiki gestured to the cellular phone she held in her hand.

" Timing is essential my dear Ferguson. You wouldn't want me

to miss our cue would you? "

Ferguson grunted something inaudible and headed to the back

of the truck. Pulling back the canvas flap that covered the bed, he

lowered the tailgate, set two long four by sixes down as a ramp,

and began to carefully roll the ten 55 gallon drums down onto the

pavement. Anazali kept up the watch as Ferguson rolled each

drum to the side of the street and the masonry and wrought iron

fence that protected against a drop to the river twenty feet below.

He stood the drums up on end and reached into his back pocket

for the bung wrench.

He loosened the bung caps on the drums, both the vent and the

siphon caps. For curiosity's sake he took the vent cap off of one

and took a whiff. A strong petroleum smell hit him square on.

Ferguson was standing beside 550 gallons of JP-8 high

performance military jet fuel.

" Coming up on target, " Heironymous Durango announced.

He thumbed one of the function keys on the GPS display, calling

up a preprogrammed position map. D-Day had the wheel, and

made the course corrections as Durango called them out. The

light of Paris was a distant glow on the horizon.

Hiro nodded in reply. Akane hunched next to him in the

cockpit. He still couldn't believe they were taking her with them.

It was bad enough that Clay had no experience in these matters,

but the rest of them save Akane were all warriors of one sort or

the other. Even Aerandir from the look of his broadsword.

Akane may have been a martial artist, but she had never pulled

the trigger on someone, so to speak.

" Did I tell you that I hate the French? " Durango asked them

then.

" No, I don't think you've ever mentioned that, " Hiro replied.

" Back in '86 old D-Day and I were side by side in our Vark

flying to some place we'd never even heard of before about two

weeks previous. Place called Tripoli. We were going there to bomb

it.

" We were flying out of the UK then, didn't transfer to

Germany until just before the Gulf War. It was a hell of a flight,

and the worst of it was the State Department couldn't get

permission from those French pantywaists to fly through their

airspace. Once the French refused, the Spanish refused as well.

We had to fly clear around the Iberian peninsula -another six

friggin' hours in the air. "

" The Speed was nice, " D-Day added sarcastically.

" Oh yeah, two hundred feet off the deck at eight hundred

knots and you're amping on amphetamines. Great fun. That's

why the computer was flying the plane until we got 'feet dry'.

Anyways we're taking flight surgeon issued amphetamines to

stay alert 'cause we're gonna be in the air fourteen hours just

to reach the target.

" We were all pissed off at the French, and we had plenty

of time to stew over it. Finally after I pissed in my flightsuit for

the second time I decided to do something about it. Get a little

payback you might say. "

He looked at them for a second to make sure they were

getting all of this.

" Ever heard of a Paveway laser-guided bomb? "

Hiro and Akane traded looks.

" Not that I recall, " Hiro answered.

" They don't miss, " he told them. " Trust me, D-Day and

I dropped enough of them in Iraq, and we never once missed.

They go exactly where the Pavetack designator directs them. "

Hiro wasn't sure where the pilot was going with this. Akane

listened patiently for the punch line.

" I dropped a Paveway laser-guided bomb right into the

French Embassy courtyard in Tripoli, " Durango said with an

evil grin. D-Day suddenly whooped with laughter at the memory

of it.

" The official story was that a bomb had missed, or that possibly

one of the SAMs the Libyans launched at us ran out of fuel and

crashed there. We weren't the only ones upset with the French,

and the brass swept the whole thing under the rug. I might have

felt bad about it afterwards, but when we learned that Ducky and

Bull had crashed into the drink on the way out I felt vindicated...

We all knew the goddamn speed made them so paranoid that they

didn't use the computer and they ended up crashing into the sea...

We wouldn't have needed the speed if it wasn't for those six extra

hours in the air...

" And that's why I hate the French, " he finished. He turned

back to the GPS display. " You two better get ready, you've got

fifteen minutes. "

Hiro and Akane nodded and went aft.

" Orly Approach is gonna want to hear from us soon, " D-Day

said after the two headed back to the main cabin.

" Screw 'em. They have a radio. "

D-Day jerked a thumb aft.

" This is just a little nuts, man. "

" A little? " Durango asked.

" Don't get me wrong man, I believe him if he says he can do

it. It's just that this isn't something that happens every day. "

" We must maintain a sense of wonder in this world my dear

Daniel Day. "

" Piss off. Call me D-Day. "

" Sure thing. " Durango adjusted the display for the small

pulse Doppler weather radar they had retrofitted in the nose of the

seaplane. There was clear skies ahead, no nasty winds or other

developments that would preclude what they were going to attempt.

" Why are we doing this again? Besides the adventure of it of

course. It ain't just payback on the French again, either. "

" I like that Saotome kid, " Durango replied. " And I like

Akane. It really burns my ass to hear how they attacked them

right after the guy proposed to her. What a bunch of bastards! "

" Proposed? I thought they were already engaged? "

" One of those arranged marriages I'm told. "

" They still do that? "

Durango took over the wheel while D-Day got out of his seat

to energize the EW rig. Various signals posted themselves on the

split screen display. D-Day began to isolate and identify signals

for their use in the immediate future.

" Guess so. They must have decided that they loved each

other after all or something. All the more reason to get them back

together. "

He reached down to the radio transponder panel, and dialed in

the number that was taped next to it. Bettie's Dare suddenly

became British Airways Express Flight 4255 on the worksheets

of Air Traffic Controllers at Charles de Gaulle and Orly

international airports. British Airways Express Flight 4255

never existed; it was in fact a flight plan filed by one of the

people Nabiki had talked to on the telephone the night before.

The man was a friend of Durango's who ran a dubious air-freight

business out of Calais.

" Okay people! " Durango yelled aft to get their attention.

" Our masquerade is in effect! Ten minutes! "

The radio crackled for attention. A voice in French accented

English spoke to them.

" Bravo One Seven Seven, Orly Approach; advising you of

the outer marker, over. "

Durango keyed his transmitter.

" Roger Orly Approach, this is Bravo One Seven Seven,

requesting permission to enter Class Bravo airspace, over. "

" Copy Bravo One Seven Seven, permission granted. Climb

to flight level one-zero-zero and turn left to course zero-three-five.

Squawk six-six-zero-zero, and await further instructions, over. "

Durango complied and set his transponder to 6600. Then he

picked up the cellular phone taped to the side of the console. He

dialed a number from a yellow post-it note on the control yoke.

Professor Balthazar McFogg sat in the study of his mansion in

London with Doctor Casimir, Doctor Vickers, MD; Katy Price,

and Ames. Several students from Cambridge University were there

as well, one of whom was online in a chat room via the Internet.

The others in the chat room made small talk, but they were

'virtually' assembled for one purpose that evening.

A cellular phone began to ring. The Professor and Katy both

made a dive for it, with the Professor snatching it up and answering.

The loud thrum of supercharged radial piston engines greeted him.

" Yes? " he asked.

" Eight minutes to contact, " Heironymous Durango told him.

" Everything's go unless I say otherwise. Out. "

The line went dead.

The Professor looked at his pocket watch and waited.

Hiro checked his gear securely fastened to his body. Then he

went through his weapons. Sig Sauer P-220 and six magazines,

that was his backup weapon. The one he carried in hand was a

Thompson SMG with 30 round stick magazine, and an army

surplus magazine pouch with six more. He had decided on the

Tommygun over an MP-5PK because it was .45 caliber, the

same as his pistol. It didn't have any suppresser on it, but Hiro

figured that if it came down to actually using it, it wouldn't matter.

An Ithaca Stakeout 12 gauge pump shotgun was slung over

shoulder.

Kuno carried his sword. That was all he needed, and

would accept no firearms. Hiro knew from experience that the

swordsman was deadly with his sword, even in the middle of a

firefight, and so didn't press too hard for him to accept at least

a pistol.

Akane had no understanding of firearms nor any desire to carry

one. Hiro wasn't going to try and get her to carry one either. So

armed she could be as dangerous to them as the Russians. She

was to stick close to Aerandir's side in any event.

Clay took a matching Sig, but he had only done a little target

shooting on a range. Aerandir had his sword, plus whatever other

firepower he might suddenly muster in their defense. If it came

down to a firefight, Hiro was going to be the only one capable

of shooting back.

The point of the plan was that it wasn't supposed to get that

far. Hiro knew better than that, but had held his tongue. He resolved

to be ready for anything. The only martial art he knew was Ching

Ching Pow. His weapons were the extensions of his art. At least

he told himself this often whenever he saw a true martial artist at

work.

Aerandir gathered them close to him. This was the part Hiro

was dreading. He was an accidental commando thanks to Operation

Chancellor, but a paratrooper was the last thing he had ever

considered being in his short career as a soldier. The dreadful

part was that paratroopers at least had parachutes. They didn't

have that luxury.

"Hold tight to each other until we touch the ground," he

admonished them.

Akane looked to Hiro, who nodded his head and put his arm

around her waist. She wanted to go, he couldn't stop her, so be it.

He just wished everything would work out okay. She smiled gamely

for him and locked her arm around his waist. Aerandir took hold

of her from the other side. Kuno and Clay joined up and then

Kuno took hold of Hiro.

"Are you scared?" Akane asked him. She looked very frightened,

but was still determined to go on. He wondered what he was looking

like for her to ask.

"Scared to death," he whispered in her ear.

"Me too," she admitted.

He gave her a squeeze which she returned gratefully.

They were ready. It was all in Durango's court now.

Nabiki nearly jumped out of her shoes when the cellular phone

rang. She turned it on.

" Ready? " She asked.

" Five minutes to contact. Get ready. " It was Durango's voice

over the roar of propeller wash.

" Gotcha, " she replied.

The line clicked dead.

She turned to Ferguson and gave him a 'thumbs up'. He returned

her gesture. Anazali came up next to her and began taking deep

breaths.

Ferguson removed all of the bung caps from the drums and began

kicking them on their sides. JP-8 began gushing forth to spill down

into the river. The current was slow on this part of the Seine, and a

rapidly expanding slick of high performance jet fuel began to form.

"Are you going to be able to do this?" Nabiki asked her.

"Don't worry about me Nabiki," Anazali returned. "Now you

and Ferguson get out of here so we can continue with the plan."

" All done here, " Ferguson cried as the last of the drums

emptied. He began to pick up a drum.

"Leave them," Anazali cried. "I shall take care of them. Go now!"

Ferguson shrugged and jumped into the truck with Nabiki. He

released the brake and jumped on the gas. The truck sped away as

Anazali gathered in the energies around her. She felt something odd

in the wind. Something unexpected.

" Talk to me D-Day, " Durango said with a tight edge to his

voice.

" I've got Orly's air search radar locked down. Interference

patterns just as we thought. Gotta keep it low, though. Charles de

Gaulle is screened by the big housing tracts around Saint-Denis

to the northeast of city center when we get in close. "

" It's a real bitch when the Paris skyline isn't any taller than

six stories. No where to hide. "

" You like a challenge, man. "

Durango smiled. " That I do. " He turned back to the main

cabin. " Four minutes! "

"We are ready, Mister Durango." Aerandir called back to him.

Durango looked to D-Day, who rejoined him at the controls.

D-Day gave him a 'thumbs-up.' Durango nodded, laughed once,

and then dialed his transponder to 7700.

" Here we go! "

He took a deep breath and clicked on his radio transmitter to

121.5 MHz.

At first, Orly Approach did not notice that B177's transponder

squawk had changed to 7700. He was busy directing the always

crowded airspace around two major airports. When Durango's

voice came over the radio, the controllers suddenly looked to

their screens in the closest they would allow themselves to panic.

B177 was headed straight for metropolitan Paris.

" MAYDAY MAYDAY MAYDAY... This is Bravo-1-7-7, British Air

Express Flight 4-2-5-5 declaring an in-flight emergency! I am

twelve miles northwest of Orly airport VOR, Heading 1-1-9 True,

at flight level 1-0-0, speed two hundred knots. I have a hydraulic

plant failure and a fire light in number one engine! Request

emergency clearance to land! "

The ATC supervisor took immediate charge of the situation.

He consulted the displays while another controller pulled Flight

4255's flight plan and manifest. He flashed the number 26 with

his fingers, indicating that Flight 4255's total list of flight crew

and passengers was 26 people.

" Roger, Bravo-1-7-7-Heavy, this is Orly Approach. Can you

maintain flight level 1-0-0? Over. "

" Negative, Orly Approach, my elevons seem to be jammed

with the hydraulic failure, I'm dropping out. " It was the best

Durango could do to keep a straight face.

" Understood, Bravo-1-7-7-Heavy. Can you turn right to 1-6-5

True? We are trying to clear a path for you, over. "

Durango paused for a moment as if he was actually trying to

turn. Instead he began his shallow dive towards the heart of Paris

a few miles distant. His landmark was the Arc de Triomphe, which

someone had thoughtfully illuminated for him.

" Negative, Orly Approach! " He cried in his best panicked

voice. " We have suffered a total hydraulic failure. It's knocked

out all controls, we're trying to hand pump them into position! "

" Copy, Bravo-1-7-7-Heavy. What are your intentions? Over. "

A total hydraulic failure was as unlikely as they came, but the men

at Orly were too busy thinking about 26 people on a crippled aircraft

and who knew how many below if they should crash in the city.

" Put out the alert to the Metropolitan Emergency Services! "

the Supervisor ordered. A man scrambled to a telephone. " Get the

crash teams on Runway 2-9 North and clear all traffic from there. I

don't care if you delay half our flights! "

" Orly Approach, I intend to crash land in Bois de Boulogne

Park if I cannot make the airport, " Durango told them. Then added

with a cry, " I have a fire light in number two engine! Losing

electrical power! "

" Bravo-1-7-7-Heavy, keep trying to turn, " the ATC pleaded

with them. " We have Runway 29 North cleared for emergency

landing, but you must turn to 1-7-2 True! "

The radio began to crackle badly as if it was shorted out.

" Orly Approach, Bravo-1-7-7, we can't hold it in the air any

longer. We think we have the gear locked down but electrical power

is failing and we can't get a 'locked' light. We--- "

Durango clicked off the radio and began sniggering, trying to

hold it in and keep his concentration.

The men in Orly ATC went silent. Eyes went to displays where

the blip marked 7700 dropped lower and lower, and headed straight

for downtown Paris. There was nothing they could do now but wait

for the inevitable.

Bettie's Dare howled over the rooftops of Nanterre on its way

into Paris proper. D-Day had swiveled the GPS display to face him,

and now called out course corrections to Durango in his measured

bombardier drawl. The pilot dove the Catalina down to 500 feet. It

was just like the good old days, only instead of dropping a few

thousand pounds of high explosives they would be dropping about

six hundred pounds of people.

" Nothing like screaming in over the rooftops of Paris at six

hundred knots, eh D-Day? "

D-Day spared him a momentary frown. " Six hundred knots? "

" Awright, so it's only two hundred, it's still a gas! "

They were almost to the Arc de Triomphe. Durango made his

bank when D-Day called it out, and the Catalina slipped in midair

to a parallel track along the Champs Elysee headed southeast. Their

target was coming up: an older four story building better known as

the Russian Embassy to France.

" Thirty seconds! " he yelled.

Aerandir opened the door, and the wind howled and threatened

to suck them out. The lights of Paris glowed below them, though

much closer than Hiro and Akane and Clay would have preferred.

Kuno of course was fearless in this regard, and it was Aerandir who

would support them. He had no doubts in his mind. If he did it

wouldn't work.

"Remember to hold tight to each other, the slipstream could

be treacherous," he admonished them.

Durango made the final adjustments to their heading. D-Day

called out the GPS cues as they howled in under 200 feet. With

his other hand D-Day throttled back on Bettie's engines. Durango

began to pull up into a slight climb and lowered the flaps. The

Catalina began to flare out, and airspeed bled off quickly. The

final act was to switch off the transponder and altimeter squawk.

" Ten seconds! " Durango yelled. " And remember: I NEVER

MISS!!! "

Bettie's Dare screamed in within two city blocks of the Embassy

at two hundred feet. The preprogrammed GPS prompt began to

flash on the display. D-Day's voice rang out clear and loud over

the roar of the engines.

" DROP! DROP! DROP! "

Aerandir pushed them out the door with as much force as he dared.

" They're clear! " D-Day called as he watched out of the

canopy. He still couldn't believe they were doing this, but what

the hell!

Durango firewalled the engines, which roared in reply. The

Catalina began to level off as it shot straight over the roof of the

Russian Embassy. Durango slip turned back on course directly

above the always busy Champs Elysee at an altitude of one hundred

and twenty feet.

" Keep this pig in the air, man! " D-Day yelled.

" I'm on it! " Durango shot back.

" You're gonna drop us straight into the Tulleries, " D-Day

observed, gesturing to the park before them, and to the Louvre

not so far ahead. Like any good bombardier, he knew better than

to try and usurp Durango's control by grabbing his own control

column.

" I ain't gonna drop us in the Tullieries! " Durango snarled

back as he wrenched at the control column. " Have a little faith

will ya?! "

Ivan Tarchenko heard the sound of Bettie's Dare roaring

overhead and then felt the entire building shake with its passing.

What on Earth was that?

He and the others who enjoyed a late evening drink in the

lounge looked up to the ceiling. Someone declared that it sounded

like a low flying aircraft. Members of the diplomatic staff ran to

the windows.

" There is a plane crashing! " One of them cried. That drew

the rest to the windows.

Nabiki and Ferguson were heading to the pickup point when

they saw the Catalina roar overhead, and dive for the river Seine.

Ferguson stopped the truck as he and Nabiki looked out the

windows. The seaplane was dropping like a dead duck.

" Oh I hope Durango knows what he's doing, " Ferguson

remarked.

" They should be out by now, " Nabiki said, thinking of Hiro

and the others. She didn't know that Akane had accompanied them

yet. She looked down at the cellular phone in her lap. Soon it would

ring, at least she hoped it would.

Anazali drew in the energy around her, felt it build up within her

body. The seaplane was close, she could hear it diving towards the

river where she stood. This was not something she made a habit of.

She wasn't as strong as most of the others. Not like Aerandir, who

was stronger than he believed.

The air seemed to crackle around her.

Bettie's Dare was seconds away.

" This is it! " Durango cried. He jerked at the control column

as the Catalina dropped like a rock in a stall. D-Day grabbed at his

column in support of Durango. They risked all the engine power

they had in their final maneuver.

" One way or another people're gonna think we crashed! "

He yelled to no one in particular.

Bettie's Dare bounced along the water for an instant before

clawing it's way aloft. The two pilots had calculated their fuel

consumption very carefully to know how heavy they'd be when

they hit. It was close enough.

Anazali released the energy that had built up within her in a

furious lighting bolt. The bolt rippled across the river with a great

thunderclap, and the jet fuel exploded into the air with a blinding

fireball. Windows shattered close by, buildings shook, and the

small railway bridge over the Seine she had targeted disintegrated

in a roiling cloud of dust and shattered masonry.

Flames leaped across the river, rising fifty feet into the air.

She was nearly overwhelmed by the fierce heat, and found

herself stepping back in response. Debris from the destroyed

bridge began raining down around her. Traffic slowed on the

nearby highway as the fireball climbed into the sky.

As an afterthought she obliterated the ten empty fuel drums.

Fragments of scorched metal began to scatter around the street in

concert with the pieces of shattered stone. It was a scene straight

out of a disaster movie, and would keep emergency services busy

for sometime before anyone figured out that it was a hoax.

Feeling very tired, she ran away from the river to her next

objective. The nagging feeling that something was in the wind

tugged at her awareness. She couldn't put her finger on it yet.

The sing-song wail of French emergency and police sirens

picked up in the distance.

Ranma-chan felt the building shake above her. She had no idea

what it was, but it was followed moments later by the sounds of

boot steps coming down the short hallway outside. She tensed in

expectation, ready to explode into whoever was dumb enough to

open the door.

Akane had never wanted to scream so badly in her life. Her

voice just wouldn't come. She was falling at a hundred miles per

hour straight at a building from a height of a two hundred feet. In

fact there were buildings all around them they could hit. She

clutched onto Hiro with all her strength as he was the first out

of the door. She was dimly aware that Kuno was now behind

and above her.

Aerandir focused himself and began to pull at the winds around

them. There was ample energy to be found in the currents of the

air, and he was well accustomed to controlling them. The wind

responded to his wishes, twisting and pushing up at them. Their

falls began to slow.

He then tugged at the four below him, catching them up in his

mind. He willed them to slow down even as the winds pushed

against their fall. He needed energy to do this, but there was plenty

to be found in a bustling city of ten million people.

With one last tug of his mind he stopped them three feet short

of the ground. He released them then, and they dropped to their

feet upon the grounds within the twenty foot compound walls of

the Embassy. The underground garage was only thirty meters

away, and that was their best access into the building.

Professor McFogg's watch read the appointed time. Durango

had not called, and therefore he had to assume that everything

was going as planned. He nodded his head to the Cambridge

student at the computer terminal.

The student got everyone's attention in the chat room. Upon

giving the proper code word, those who were involved

acknowledged and left the chat room. The student then

disconnected.

McFogg looked to Doctor Casimir, who had his fingers crossed,

and to Doctor Vickers, who had brought two interns, a nurse and

enough surgical gear and supplies to provide immediate trauma

care as necessary when they arrived in England. McFogg prayed

that it was an unnecessary precaution.

Now all they could do was wait.

Emergency lines began ringing off the hook in Paris. Some of

the calls were legitimate calls from local Parisians who lived close

to the explosion Anazali had caused. The rest were a sudden influx

of bogus calls being bounced in from across Europe while looking

like local calls. They all said the same thing though: that a plane

had crashed in the river near Bercy.

Fire Companies scrambled to their trucks. Hospitals went on

alert. Police units called in off duty officers. The city responded as

best it could. No one knew exactly what was going on yet, but

plenty of misinformation was being fed to them.

That was why no one was terribly surprised when half of Paris

went black with the sudden disruption of electrical power.

Anazali couldn't keep this kind of destruction up all night. The

substation crackled merrily beneath the street after the Maiar

woman had summarily blown it up. Pink and gold flames

launched into the air from vents in the streets and manway

covers. Lights went out all around her as power was lost.

Aerandir had just enough warning to push the others clear before

a lightning bolt exploded at his feet. Hiro had his Tommygun to bear

but no one to aim it at. The Embassy went dark a moment later.

Kuno caught Akane before she could fall, and pulled her to safety

beneath the garage overhang. Clay threw himself against the wall

and held out his pistol. He had nothing to aim at, but felt much

better with it in hand.

Aerandir looked up to see a man floating thirty feet above him.

A glitter of silver caught his eye, a large broadsword. He didn't

have to see who it was that nearly fried them with a lightning bolt.

He felt his familiar presence.

It was his brother Palandir.

"Sil Amarn! I will not allow you to betray us so!" Palandir cried

to him in the tongue of the Maia.

"It is you who betray the world!" Aerandir retorted. He

detached a part of his consciousness long enough to shout in

the minds of Hiro, Akane, Kuno, and Clay.

Go! Find Ranma and get him to safety! I shall follow when

I can!

Hiro was the first to jump to action. He rushed the door to the

parking garage, jamming the butt of his Tommygun into the jaw

of the one man on guard. The Russian was stunned by the force

of the thunderclap, Hiro's strike put him out for the rest of the night.

"Come on!" He shouted to the others.

Palandir watched them run and raised another lighting bolt. It

was hard to find the energy with all of the power out in the

neighborhood. He was forced to reach farther from the center

of the city. It took more time than he had.

Aerandir lofted up at him with his sword ready. Palandir let

go of his tenuous hold on the energy and raised his sword in

defense. Steel rang against steel as the two brothers clashed in

midair.

"Very clever, brother!" Palandir noted. The other four had

escaped within the garage, and there was no way he could reach

them without turning away from Aerandir. He did have other

means of taking care of them. As Aerandir had done moments

earlier, he now detached a part of his consciousness to sound the

alarm within the minds of Ivan Tarchenko and his cronies.

Ivan Tarchenko looked up at the lights as they went out. He saw

that lights had gone out all over that part of town. It didn't matter,

the Embassy had it's own backup diesel-driven generators on the

premises. They would start up automatically.

He suddenly wondered if the plane crash they had witnessed as

a huge ball of fire rising into the sky had been responsible. It made

sense. He looked to Fyodor and the other thugs in his employ.

They seemed unconcerned with the goings-on.

It was late. He was about to take his leave of the room and go

to bed when a sudden thought burst into his mind. Concern flashed

across his awareness. Something was very wrong and he must see

that his Japanese prisoner was secure.

It must have been the paranoia born of being a spy, but he

trusted gut instinct. Right now his gut was telling him to make

certain Ranma Saotome was secure. He yelled to Fyodor and

his men and ordered them to follow him to the examination cells

in the basement.

Ranma-chan tried to contain her glee as the sounds of a bolt

being thrown back echoed in the silence of the basement. The door

was opened. Just then the lights went out. She saw her one favorite

jailer look dumbstruck at the sight of a young woman wearing a

tattered tuxedo with the sleeves and pant legs rolled up to her

elbows and knees.

It was the last thing he saw. As the building's lights went out,

so did his.

Emergency lights flicked on. Ranma-chan cracked her knuckles

with righteous fury as the man bounced off the far wall and collapsed

with a heavy thud to the stone floor. Doctor Pulatski stood across

the hall in shock as he saw a strange red-haired girl step out of the

cell and bash the daylights out of Gennady.

Ranma-chan turned and saw Pulatski back against the far wall

of the hallway, stammering in broken Russian. She glowered at him

and started stomping towards him. It was the kind of walk that was

only intimidating if you were a full grown and muscular man. The

hate filled look in Ranma-chan's eyes more than made up for the

fact that she weighed 100 pounds soaking wet and holding a brick.

"You!" She yelled at him.

He didn't understand Japanese, but he had an idea what she

was saying as she stabbed a finger at him.

She backed him against the wall and then lashed out a hand to

collar him and lift him up on his toes. Nevermind the fact that he

was several heads taller than the mysterious and extremely violent

girl that grabbed him. Nevermind the fact that he was even now

voiding his bladder onto the stone floor. Ranma-chan seemed not

to notice.

Ranma-chan switched to English. Hopefully the Russian had

a smattering of that. Otherwise she was just going to beat him to

a pulp and find someone else who could show her to the door.

" Two things! " She yelled in his face. " Hot water and the

way out of here! "

" What? " Pulatski cried. He understood the part about

leaving, but hot water?

" I said...! " Ranma-chan yelled, putting the squeeze on

Pulatski's throat. " I want some hot water and the way out of

here! "

Hot water?

Ranma-chan gave him a tighter squeeze.

Pulatski gestured over to the examination room. Through the

open door she could see a coffee pot and some instant tea bags

in a glass bowl. Steam wafted from the pot.

She picked him up by the throat and dragged him with her to

the examination room. With one hand clamped firmly around his

throat, she reached out to the coffee pot and picked it up. This

was going to hurt, but beggars couldn't be choosy.

She dumped the contents of the pot on her head. It was coffee

all right. And it was hot. She screamed in pain, and her voice

suddenly took on a deeper timbre. Pulatski nearly fainted as he

watched the girl grow taller, muscles burst forth on her arms, a bit

of five o'clock shadow formed on the face, the jawline became

tight and firm.

Suddenly there was a fully grown Japanese man with a black

pigtail holding him by the throat. It was Ranma Saotome! He

couldn't believe his eyes!

" Now about the way outta here... " Ranma growled

menacingly at him.

" H-How did..? " Pulatski stammered in Russian.

Ranma threw the man into a stack of computer equipment.

Pulatski crashed onto the floor whining in pain. Ranma stood

over him and kicked him sharply with his bare foot.

" No time for that! " He yelled at the fallen scientist. " All I

want is for you to get me the hell out of here. Do that and I'll let

you live. Otherwise... " He drew his hand across his throat in a

slicing motion.

Pulatski got the hint.

" Which way? " Hiro cried. They had made their way into the

lower levels of the Embassy with ease during the confusion.

Casimir had drawn them a fairly accurate map of the Embassy

from his time spent there in the 60s. Fortunately they hadn't done

any major remodeling since then, as Hiro found what he

remembered to match up well with what he found. So far so good...

They had Akane in the middle with Clay. Kuno followed as

rearguard with his katana drawn and ready. Aerandir hadn't caught

up with them, and Hiro could only presume that the mariner was

busy outside.

Clay squinted hard at Akane. The excitement was interfering

with his concentration, but after a few moments he could see the

red thread of psionic force that lead from her heart point straight

down and to the left of them. Ranma was down there.

" The basement! " Clay responded. " To the left and down. "

That was good enough for Hiro Ohata. He introduced a burly

GRU major who had blundered into them from a side door to the

butt of his Tommygun. The two hit it off right from the start, but

it was a short friendship.

As the GRU major hit the floor, things went to hell from there.

A security man cried out and drew a machine pistol. Hiro barked

a warning for Akane and Kuno and brought the Tommygun to

bear. Akane had just enough time to cry out as the first of the

Russian's burst chewed into the fine oak paneled walls over her

head before Hiro's answering burst took the man apart at the

midsection.

They ran past the fallen guard. Akane looked down with

horror at the dead Russian's body. There wasn't time for

anything more as the sounds of gunfire drew more attention.

Clay pulled on her with them. Suddenly she began to have a sense

of appreciation for Hiro trying to keep her from joining them.

Hiro led the way. The idea that they had been discovered rang in

his mind. It was to be expected, but they were counting on Aerandir's

support. Now it was up to him to get them out of this alive. It was

like being back in the middle of the war again. He had never felt

more alive in his life than when someone was actively trying to kill

him.

Another burst of gunfire ripped apart an endtable in the hallway.

Hiro barked a short burst of suppression fire at the security man,

who ducked behind a door frame. The door to the stairwell was

just past the hallway.

" Get Akane through that door! It leads to the basement! "

Hiro yelled. He unlimbered his shotgun and cycled a shell.

Clay started to go, but the security man popped out from behind

the door while Hiro was busy and nearly blew the scientist apart in

a storm of 9mm hollowpoints. Akane saw the Russian just in time

and jerked him back behind the corner. Hiro fumbled up his

Tommygun with one hand and cut loose with the rest of the

magazine. The Russian ducked back behind the ruined door

frame to reload. Kuno sounded like he was hacking someone

up down the hall.

Hiro was ready now with the shotgun.

"Go!" he yelled at them. "I'm covering!"

Clay swallowed hard and jumped into the open. Akane followed.

The Russian appeared, and he had a friend. Hiro clamped down on

the shotgun trigger and held on.

Hiro's shotgun blast annihilated the door behind the two

Russians as they jumped back inside at the last second. They

popped back out, guns blazing, before they thought Hiro could

cycle another shell through the breech. They were wrong.

9mm bullets whined past his head and shot down the hall.

One very nearly struck Akane, but it smashed into the paneled

walls and showered her with splinters. She cried out about the

time Hiro fired a second time with the shotgun.

Whereas Hiro's first shell had been double-ought buckshot,

the second shell was a 3 inch Nitromag .50 caliber discarding sabot

slug. It blasted clean through both mens' chests, through the wall

behind them, and out a first floor window via the closed steel

shutters. Hiro's wrist and the webbing between his thumb and

forefinger were on fire. That was just not the kind of shotgun shell

you fired with a roomsweeper like the Stakeout.

Kuno ran up to him as he winced in pain for his wrist.

"No time to dawdle, man!" Kuno rebuked. "This way! Onward!"

Kuno charged through the door with his bloodstained sword

after Clay and Akane. Hiro decided to sling the shotgun again

and use the Tommygun for awhile. At least as long as the ammo

held up. He had burned one magazine already and they still hadn't

found Ranma. The way things looked the whole building would

realize they were under attack before they could get out.

He jacked a fresh clip into the Tommygun and turned to follow

Kuno. He tried to ignore the two ruined corpses not ten meters

away. The sight of the cherries jubilee stain all over the hallway

was a little much even for him.

Aerandir leaped clear of Palandir's fiery sword. His brother

was ever the finer swordsman than he, and he suspected he was

holding back from him. He managed to hold his own against the

renewed assault, but it was taking all he had.

"Why do you insist in this Sil Amarn?" Palandir asked him. "We

are your family!"

"Ask yourself why you insist upon destroying the world, Sil

Amass," Aerandir retorted. "For that is what you seek!"

Palandir didn't reply to that. Instead he lashed savagely at his

brother and said, "In truth I did not expect to see you here, brother.

One would think the sea has too great a hold upon you."

"When the cause is noble enough, not even the sea may hold

me fast in its thrall."

"And the life of one man is noble enough for you?"

"Especially the life of one man!" Aerandir cried. His brilliantly

flaming sword stroke nearly took Palandir's nose off. "We were

sworn to protect these people since before you and I were born!"

"Then why do you betray us!?" Palandir thundered. His

brilliant sword strokes drove Aerandir down towards the ground.

"Our uncle would save this world and it's people from themselves!"

Aerandir called up a reserve of strength to fight him off to a

standstill. Palandir retreated in midair to fly back thirty meters from

him. The mariner rose up to the same height and waited.

"A hundred of our finest magi couldn't hold the Heart of the

World in the end. How do you imagine our dear uncle could hope

to do so alone?"

Palandir spit in reply. "Had any one of those hundred wise men

lived for twelve thousand years? I think not! Sarophan has the power

to tear this world in twain if that was his desire!"

"Sarophan may get his wish!"

They flew at each other again with renewed fury. They were

no longer brothers in each other's eyes. They were the deadliest

of enemies.

Ivan Tarchenko heard the sound of gunfire from the lower

levels and suddenly his worst fears were coming true. How was

this possible? This was the sovereign territory of the Russian

Federation. An attack was unthinkable! But he knew it to be

true. He knew what they had come for, whoever they were.

He wasn't going to let them have Ranma Saotome alive.

Fyodor and the others drew appropriate small arms and followed

Tarchenko to the basement holding area. Calls to the Paris Police

had been futile, every single man they had was converging on the

site of the plane crash. The local television stations, acting on

anonymous reports, were calling it the worst air disaster in French

history.

If necessary he would have Saotome killed on the spot. It

wasn't as if he had any more use for him in any event. Fyodor

grunted to his men, and they began to file down the hallways.

Staff types and pencil pushers cowered behind doors, unsure of

what was going on. They watched timidly at them as they made

their way to the stairwell. Others began the process of destroying

classified documents. He could hear the shredders working

overtime.

I'm afraid I've worn out my welcome here, Tarchenko

thought bitterly. But if in the end I have the Heart of the World,

it will not matter.

Ranma had Pulatski by the throat as the scientist directed him

towards the stairwell. If his luck held out, he could be free in ten

minutes. Maybe less. He didn't know what he would do once he

escaped, but he'd burn that bridge when he crossed it.

Chapter Four

Kuno had the point as they scrambled down the dimly lit

stairwell. His sword gleamed by the emergency lighting as he

stomped down the stairs. Akane stayed close to Clay. She was

starting to understand why Hiro had been so adamant about her

staying in Monaco. The last thing she wanted to think about

was getting herself shot.

She just wanted to find Ranma. She needed to know that he

was all right. She vowed that she would do anything to see him

safe and sound. They had a future together, and no one was going

to take that from them.

Hiro snaked ahead of them again. He had powder burns on his

face from where a guard had nearly taken his head off at point blank

range with an AK-74. Akane didn't have to guess where the bright

red splatter across his brow had came from.

" How much further? " He cried. He was running out of

ammo for the Tommygun.

Clay knew they were close. The red thread of force was visible

to him without any effort now.

" There! " he cried, pointing down to the bottom of the

stairwell. " He's down there for certain! "

Hiro slammed up against the stairwell wall to make room for

them to pass. "Kuno! Cover them below while I cover from

above!" He unlimbered the shotgun again and remembered to

extend the folding wire stock this time. It wasn't much, but at

least he could brace it against his shoulder.

"You need not give orders to me Ohata!" Kuno bellowed.

"Tatewaki Kuno knows what must be done!" He leaped over the

banister and down two flights of steps to the bottom.

Ranma Saotome appeared through the door with Pulatski in

his grasp.

Kuno very nearly decapitated Ranma in his fury and haste.

His blade stopped just a centimeter shy of Ranma's throat. Both

Ranma and Pulatski breathed a sigh of relief. Pulatski because

Kuno's blade was going to go through him on the way out of

Ranma's neck.

"Saotome!" Kuno announced. "I am a man of my word,

and have come to rescue you from these villains!"

"Hey uh, thanks Kuno," Ranma managed. As much as he

hoped someone would come, he honestly hadn't expected it.

"RANMA!" Akane cried out from a flight of stairs above.

Ranma looked up to see Akane, dressed in black mufti, looking

down at him. He didn't know if he wanted to cry out in delight or

in rage at seeing her here in the middle of this mess. Kuno took

his burden from him, throwing Pulatski against the wall and raising

his sword to cut him down.

"Thus ends thy sorry life!" Kuno cried wrathfully.

"Hold on a second Kuno!" Ranma told him. "We could always

use a hostage to get out of here." Even he had noticed the sounds

of gunfire raging above just minutes earlier, and figured the element

of surprise was quite thoroughly destroyed.

Kuno complied with a scowl and pushed the man before them

at the end of his sword. This sorry wretch deserved only a swift

death by his hands.

"Step lively knave, lest ye feel the steel of the Blue Thunder!"

A poke of the katana between the shoulder blades got Pulatski

moving, even though he didn't understand a word of Kuno's

Japanese.

Akane wasted no time in jumping down over the banister to

reach Ranma. She ran up to him and threw her arms around him,

eyes suddenly dewing with tears. A tiny part of him knew better

than to waste precious time holding her tight against him, but that

was the part that didn't love her with all of his heart. He caught

her up in what would have been a crushing embrace if they weren't

used to each other's shows of affection.

"I thought I'd lost you forever," she whispered to him.

"You know me better than that," he replied quietly.

"Well you didn't have to scare me like that. Twice is enough

for one lifetime with you! Now three times?" She retorted once

more in a whisper. She kissed him on the cheek next to his ear

and let him go.

"You okay Saotome?" Hiro called from above them.

"What took you so long?" Ranma shot back. "Hell, I was

halfway out of here on my own!"

"Finding out what city you were in took a little time," Hiro said

as the party climbed back up the steps. Pulatski was in front acting

as a convenient bullet stopper for them should the need arise. Clay

followed behind Kuno and Pulatski. Now that Ranma was found,

he served no more purpose, and was eager to get the hell out of

here while the getting was good.

"Oh yeah?" Ranma asked, holding Akane close to his side.

"What city is that?"

"Paris!" Akane said next to him.

"This ain't how I was hoping to visit Paris," he observed. He

reluctantly took the Tommygun Hiro gave him because he had been

pretty wasted over the last three days and had spent damn near

all his strength on Pulatski while in a rage. Hiro had the Stakeout

in hand, sweeping it along the winding stairwell banister above

them as they climbed.

"That's okay Saotome, I think we're in the process of leveling

most of it in order to make a diversion for your rescue," Hiro

remarked casually.

"That was nice of you."

"Anytime."

Ranma looked at the Tommygun.

"Feeling kinda light. What do I have left?"

Hiro handed him a stick magazine from his pouch. "Maybe half

a clip in the gun, plus this one. Don't spend it all in one place."

Ranma tucked the clip in his waist band. "I'll try not to."

"It's a Thompson, so it's got a low rate of fire compared to

the MP-5 you're used to. And the bullets are nice fat .45

hydrashoks, so don't try shooting through any walls with it.

They might make it through, but not in any shape to do much

good."

"I'll remember that."

They were just getting up to the right floor when a blast of

gunfire from high above them hit Pulatski. The scientist staggered

back against Kuno, his white lab coat suddenly soaked in red.

The man tumbled over as Kuno threw him aside and began

moaning on the stairwell.

Hiro only saw the muzzle flash for a second and fired his

Stakeout on reflex. Ranma jerked Akane behind him to shield

her from any more gunfire. Clay began shooting sporadically over

their heads until his Sig was empty.

" Did you think you were going somewhere Mister Saotome? "

Ivan Tarchenko yelled down at them in English. He looked to

the others in his group. Fyodor and his men readied hand

grenades. Their fingers locked around safety rings in preparation

to arm and toss them at Tarchenko's command.

" I'm tired of your lousy hospitality! " Ranma shot back.

" Perhaps we should talk this over, " Tarchenko told them.

" If you would prefer your fianc饠to live I suggest you listen to

me. "

" Go to hell! " Ranma yelled furiously.

Tarchenko nodded to Fyodor and the others. They pulled the

safeties on their grenades. The grenades' spoons flicked away and

rang upon the concrete stairs.

"Something is rotten in the state of Denmark!" Kuno hissed

suddenly.

He wasted no time in busting down the door to the floor that

opened into the parking garage. He began waving his sword at

them to spur them on. Hiro finished off the rest of the shotgun's

internal magazine and began combat loading on the run.

"Make haste!" Kuno bellowed to the four of them. "Lest the

foe surround us!"

"Go!" Hiro yelled at Ranma and Akane. "While their heads

are down!" He kept up a blistering series of shotgun blasts.

Ranma pulled at Akane, practically dragging her through the

door. Clay was close behind them. Kuno was already charging

down the hall with his sword, chasing the staff types before

him and ranting madly.

Hiro saw the dull egg shaped grenades falling towards them

as they made their break for the exit to the stairwell. His finger

tensed on the trigger of the shotgun once more as he leaped for

the door. He just hoped it wouldn't hurt as much as he was

expecting.

"Fire in the hole!" He yelled.

Ranma caught and lifted Akane off her feet while still on the

run. He threw her a little roughly to the floor against the wall

and then dove over her body. She cried out in protest, but in

that scant second before the grenades went off she saw that he

was too busy holding his ears and yawning. In that instant she

figured he knew something she didn't, and copied him as best

she could.

Six grenades exploded in unison at the door. The shockwave

helped to blast Hiro clear of the door. Glass windows set in doors

shattered, paintings and photographs were shaken off the walls.

A wall of heat and black smoke washed over them.

A consuming silence fell over them, broken only by the patter

of dust and small bits of the ceiling raining down.

"You okay?" Ranma asked her.

She was seeing stars from the noise of the explosions, but told

him she was all right. He wasted no time in pulling her to her feet.

Clay was already up and helped them along. Ranma cast a look

back to Hiro, who pulled himself up and hobbled towards them

with a limp.

"Hiro!" Akane cried when she saw the bloodstains on his right leg.

Hiro waved them off and barked at them to keep moving.

"It ain't bad!" He protested. Actually it wasn't, but hurt like

blue blazes anyway just to spite him.

Aerandir knew he was outmatched against his brother's

swordsmanship. Part of his awareness informed him that Ranma

had been found alive and well, and for that he was glad. All he

needed to do was hold off his brother long enough for the others

to escape.

He wasn't sure what Palandir would do if he saw Ranma

escaping, but wasn't prepared to take any chances with the

young man's life. It was possible that Palandir was merely

around the Embassy awaiting orders from their uncle to kill

Ranma. Perhaps Sarophan had assessed the man and his

fianc饠as the threat Anazali and her companions believed them

to be.

He didn't have too much time to dwell on such thoughts, as

Palandir drove home another series of glittering fiery sword strokes

upon him. He heard astonished voices in French and Russian below

them as he fought off the attack. He and his brother were putting

on quite an aerial show for them.

"You waste my time brother," Palandir told him curtly. "I have

other business here."

"If it concerns the life of Ranma Saotome and his fianc饠than

I'm afraid you'll have to take it up with me, Sil Amass."

"So be it!" Palandir barked. "I did not wish to kill you, but if

I must than I shall!"

Aerandir braced for the all out assault he knew Palandir had

been holding back from him.

" I wish I knew what was going on, " Ferguson lamented.

The truck was at the assigned pickup point four blocks from the

embassy. Power was still out in this part of town, and the incessant

wail of police and emergency sirens echoed in the distance. The

Parisians hadn't figured out yet that the crash had been a hoax.

Nabiki silently agreed. Her thoughts drifted to Akane and

Ranma. Hiro. Even Tatewaki Kuno. She hoped they were all right.

Anazali appeared silently before them out of thin air. Both

Ferguson and Nabiki started in their seats within the truck. The

woman's oddly complected skin seemed to glow even in the

darkness. Nabiki found herself just a little jealous of her for a

moment.

The Maia woman looked very weary. She walked over to the

cab and opened the door. Nabiki scooted over next to Ferguson to

make room for her. Anazali stepped up into the cab and sank into

the bench seat.

"Are you okay?" Nabiki asked her.

Anazali nodded.

"I'm very worried," she told them. "I sense another presence

here. On par with Aerandir, and that frightens me."

"Huh? Who?" Nabiki asked. Ferguson was quite lost.

"There are few among my kind who are as old or as powerful

as Aerandir. I myself am but an eighth of his span of years... I fear

it may be Sil Amass, known as Palandir, his brother."

Nabiki remembered Aerandir mention his brother once to Ukyo.

He had been the one to pull them from the Dneister River. He

had saved them from Tarchenko's murder squad, and sent them

to safety with Aerandir that they be taken to Sarophan. If Palandir

was their enemy, then that meant that Sarophan was their enemy.

And that meant that...

"Oh my God!" Nabiki cried in horror. "Ukyo!"

"What is it, Nabiki?" Anazali asked her.

"Ukyo! She's with Aerandir's uncle!"

Anazali was missing something here. So was Ferguson. Nabiki

looked at both of them and grit her teeth in frustration. There was

too much to explain to be doing it here.

Anazali didn't give her the chance. She jumped out of the truck

and started running towards the Embassy.

"Waitaminute!" Nabiki yelled at her. "Where do you think

you're going?"

"Aerandir needs my help!" Anazali cried in reply. Then she

faded from sight.

"Damn!" Nabiki cursed. She turned to Ferguson and gave him

a sour look. " You know Fergy-baby, just once I'd like someone

to sit me down and explain to me absolutely everything that's going

on around here. "

Ferguson gave her a dubious look in reply, thinking back to what

he had said to begin this conversation. " You'd like to know what's

going on? Bloody hell lass, I should think you know a damn sight

more than me! "

The two of them harrumphed and turned back to face over the

hood of the truck. Nabiki felt very cold inside with the knowledge

that Ukyo was in the clutches of their enemy. I won't lose Akane,

Ranma, and Ukyo too. I won't lose any of them!

Tarchenko scrambled down the smoke filled stairwell when

Fyodor and his men had secured it. One of Fyodor's men had the

dazed Doctor Pulatski in his arms. Aside from the bullet wound in

the arm, the doctor was unhurt. Blind luck had him roll down the

stairs far enough to avoid the shrapnel of the grenades.

" Where are they? " He demanded.

Fyodor pointed down the hall.

" Kill them, Fyodor!" Tarchenko thundered to the big Ukrainian.

" They serve no further use to us, and are in fact aggravating me

greatly! Kill all of them! "

Fyodor nodded and circled his finger to muster his men. Finally

he would be able to do what he did best. He was tired of treading

lightly upon eggshells. It was time to crush a few.

Kuno held off two guards at sword point. He had deftly

disarmed them, his blade having cut clean through their rifles.

He was just about to turn them into steak tartare when Ranma

and the others came running towards him from down the hall.

The parking garage beyond was now filled with armed soldiers.

Unfortunately it was their only way out.

"Leave 'em," Ranma told the swordsman. "We got other

problems."

Kuno seethed at being told what to do, but conceded that

Saotome might have a point. He leaped at both of them, bringing

his pommel down upon their heads and knocking them out cold.

He spat upon them in contempt.

"Know ye that the mercy of the Blue Thunder is vast beyond

even your meager worth," he told them.

" I hope you have a plan to get past all those soldiers, " Clay

said in a hushed voice. The soldiers for their part were busy

watching two men outside wheel and dive around each other

in midair. Silvery flashes of light were punctuated by the ring

of steel on steel.

"That's Aerandir!" Akane cried. "Who's he fighting?"

"Beats me," Ranma replied. He looked to Hiro, who was

rubbing at his leg and looking for the piece of shrapnel that hurt

him so. "Got any ideas?"

"You're the great martial artist," Hiro replied between clenched

teeth. He found it.

"If I thought I had the juice left in me, I'd rush 'em." Ranma

said bitterly. "But even if I did, it's too dangerous with Akane

and Mister Clay to worry about."

"Hah! You think I can't take a few?" Akane asked archly.

Ranma clenched his fists and glared at her. She glared back

at him.

"For Christ's sake, this is no time to start arguing," Hiro spat.

He pulled an inch long piece of bloody steel filament wire from

his leg. Standard anti-personnel shrapnel. "Give me a minute, and

I'll give us a little cover."

He bit back a few choicer curses as he shifted his weight on

his wounded leg. He reached into his satchel and produced a

brace of four canisters. He handed one to Ranma, Kuno and

Akane, keeping the last for himself.

Akane looked at hers. It had this ring pin on the top of the can.

"What?"

"Smoke grenade," Ranma supplied for her.

"If I had any I woulda brought a few frags, but we were

kinda in a hurry to find you."

"This'll work," Ranma said. He looked to Kuno, who readied

his without a word. Then he looked to Akane. "Just pull the pin

when we do and throw the grenade at them."

"On three," Hiro said. He pulled his pin and the rest followed.

"One...Two.. Three!"

He lobbed his smoke grenade as Clay held the door open.

Ranma and Kuno hurled theirs. Akane wound up and threw hers

as hard as she could. Hiro's grenade popped loudly in flight, then

began spewing forth voluminous clouds of thick blue smoke. At

the sound the Russians turned, only to get more grenades going

off around them. The last Russian in sight took Akane's grenade

right in the forehead and was cold-cocked before it went off.

"Well that wasn't quite what I had in mind, but whatever works!"

Ranma said to her as they watched the Russian fall over unconscious.

Hiro charged through the smoke blasting his shotgun blindly in

the direction of the Russians. Kuno let out a blood-curdling war

cry and leaped to follow. Ranma led Akane around the outskirts

of the garage. There was no way he was going to take her through

the middle of Hiro and Kuno's crazed charge.

The garage became pure pandemonium. Choking blue smoke

filled the space, billowing out of the open doors. Gunfire erupted

in response to Hiro's shotgun blasts. Kuno kept yelling something

like "The Hundred Blows!" and men screamed in terror and pain.

Akane coughed against the smoke and her eyes watered badly.

Ranma led them past the melee with Clay close behind. As they

staggered out into the open he saw a Russian raise his rifle against

them. Akane shrieked once. He remembered the Tommygun and

emptied the clip into the man's legs. The Russian dropped like a

stone and began howling.

Hiro appeared through the smoke a second later. Kuno charged

through behind him. They were free of the building, there was

just the matter of the twenty foot high walls before them.

They looked towards the gate, which someone had finally

sealed off and posted with heavily armed security guards. They

wouldn't be getting out of there that way. They were still trapped.

"Aerandir was supposed to get us over the wall," Hiro said

bitterly.

Palandir had finally drawn blood. His brother had fought with

all his might, but the superior skill was beginning to tell. Aerandir

managed to disengage long enough to get a few meters between

them. Blood dripped down onto the grass of the courtyard below

from a slash across his side.

That was when Palandir saw that Ranma and the others had

escaped from the building.

"Very clever!" He commended Aerandir. "You play a

marvelous waiting game... All for naught I'm afraid."

Palandir began to gather the energy he needed. The electricity

was restored to the building, so there was no need to reach so

far from himself to collect it. He held Aerandir back with one

arm pointing the sword directly towards him, while the other arm

lifted over his head. St. Elmo's fire began to crackle in his hand.

Aerandir wasn't finished yet. He knew he couldn't charge his

brother without catching either the sword or the energy blast that

was being mustered. Instead he decided to affect a more localized

defense. He reached out with his mind, looking for something

useful.

A gas main beneath the grounds ruptured at his prompt.

It didn't take much from there to get it lit.

A geyser of blue and orange flame rocketed skyward. The

Russians on the grounds cried out in panic and threw themselves

to the grass. The main blowtorched fifty feet into the black sky.

The roar of the ruptured gas main was deafening, distracting

Palandir's attention back towards Aerandir. Ranma and the

others had a few more moments respite.

The exploding gas main sent Ranma and the others to the grass

as well.

"You get the feeling we're the minor players in this firefight?"

Hiro groused. He jerked a thumb into the air at the two dueling

Maiar.

"We got ourselves another distraction," Ranma said. He

scrambled to his feet. "Come on, I got an idea!"

They got up with him and followed him to the corner of the

wall and away from all of the pyrotechnics. Kuno began to argue

that a charge upon the gate would succeed, but Hiro started

yelling back that it was crazy to charge across that much open

ground. Clay kept watch against the Russians, but for the

moment it was clear that they were still trying to deal with

the exploding gas main to bother with the five intruders.

Ranma ignored them and looked straight into Akane's eyes.

"I need your help for this," he told her. "I can't do it alone."

"Me?"

"Yeah. I don't have the juice for a ki-blast on my own. I haven't

slept in three days, really. The only thing keeping me up right now

is the adrenaline. I need you to power me up."

"What? I can't do any of that stuff!" Akane protested. It was

a bitter point with her, as she had felt very little like a martial artist

around people who could use such techniques.

"You're wrong, Akane!" Ranma told her sternly. "This attack

doesn't work unless you have the utmost confidence in yourself.

You have to believe you can do it! I'll get the thing started, but I

need you to help me give it some oomph!"

"What are you talking about? How am I supposed to give any

power to you?"

Ranma clasped his hand in hers. By this time Hiro and Kuno

had stopped arguing and spared them a look of wonderment.

Then a stray bullet whizzing by got their attention, and they

focused themselves on holding the Russians off. Clay had the

Tommygun now, and began clipping short bursts at them to the

accompaniment of Hiro's shotgun and Kuno's taunting oaths.

Ranma paid no attention to any of it, instead looking once more

into Akane's eyes.

"It's our ki's, Akane. We've got each other's ki's. Sort of.

Parts of them anyway. That's why we're skewed opposite of

each other! You've got a piece of me inside you, I've got a piece

of you inside me! When we're together, we're the same!"

Akane knew it to be true then. She didn't know what she could

do to help, but now as Ranma began to gather himself, she could

feel that part of him within her begin to glow with power. That

inner flame was infectious, spreading to the rest of her until she

tingled at the fingertips with heat.

"I know you can do this," he said to her. "I believe in you.

You just gotta believe in yourself."

He held out his right hand as he held her right in his left. She

put her free hand next to his as he directed. He took a deep breath.

He could feel what little power he had to spare rising within him.

It would be enough, dammit!

The fireball of ki energy began to coalesce in their hands. He

was giving it all he had. Akane gasped as she saw it, and more

importantly felt it. There was power there: his power, her power,

their power. She felt it flow out of her in a torrent.

The fireball grew and grew in their hands. It was all Ranma

could do to keep it together, Akane was busy feeding it her

strength. When he had all he could hope to contain and

possibly a little bit more, he flung it forth.

"MOKO TAKABISHA!!!" They cried in unison.

For an instant, if you knew what you were looking for, you

could see the image of a tiger swell around the two. The ki ball

blossomed forth into a lance of power that slammed straight

through the stone wall with runaway freight train force. The

explosion blew them off their feet, and for one panicked moment

Hiro thought a Russian had launched an RPG at them from the

roof.

When the smoke and dust cleared, there was a seven foot

hole blasted through eighteen inches of stone. The edges of the

hole were scorched black. A faint sparkle of light dimmed to

nothingness in the wake of the blast. Clay lowered the Thompson

and stared wide-eyed at the huge hole through the wall.

"Let's go!" Ranma yelled. He sagged against Akane for a

second, and she helped to steady him.

"Are you okay?"

"Just a little shaky," he replied. He started towards the hole.

"Come on, I'll be fine."

Hiro didn't need a written invitation. He fired the last of his

three-inch Nitromags into the corner of the building where several

guards took shelter before running for the hole. The slug blew

apart a large stone, peppering the Russians with rock shrapnel

and convincing them that they had best wait a few moments

before doing anything.

Aerandir felt the buildup and release of ki energy below. The

explosion that blew apart the wall surprised him. He hadn't

expected Saotome to be capable of such a feat in his current

condition.

Palandir was of a like mind.

"It appears Nimatar's opinions of them are well founded," he

said to himself. His hand crackled with power and he directed it

at the fleeing party below. Aerandir realized that he didn't have

much choice at this point, and flung himself towards his brother

with a great cry.

It wasn't Aerandir who connected with Palandir. It was

Anazali's blast that caught the Maia across the chest in a storm

of radiant blue light. Palandir staggered back in midair, stunned,

but not hurt. Anazali's attack wasn't strong enough to hurt him.

He snarled a curse and split his energies into a triple tined fork

of crimson red might. One blast stopped Aerandir cold, making

him wince against the blow but not seriously hurting him. Anazali

was blasted to the ground with a cry of pain. The third blast landed

squarely between Ranma and Akane, and the others.

The pavement was thrown up around them in a ear-splitting

peal of thunder. Angry red motes of light exploded around them,

burning with an icy touch upon exposed skin. Ranma and Akane

stumbled forward, still running, while Hiro and the others were

thrown back.

Hiro, Kuno, and Clay were closest to the blast, and were

knocked silly by the concussion. They fell over face down and

lay there with their ears ringing loudly. It was the only thing that

saved them when Fyodor and his men came charging through the

hole in pursuit of Ranma and Akane.

Fyodor saw the smoking crater the three were laying around

like points on a clock face, and decided that they were quite dead.

He saw Ranma and Akane running away from their friends and

that confirmed his beliefs. He motioned for his men to pursue

them. There was too much cover for a clear shot at them down

the tree lined boulevard.

They ran off in hot pursuit.

When Hiro got to his feet and the dust settled, he could see

Ranma and Akane running away as fast as they could. He could

also see Fyodor and his men chasing them. He yelled a warning

but they were too far away to hear him. He pulled himself painfully

to his knees, waiting for another blast to come raining down upon

them, and praying that one wouldn't. Kuno got back to his feet,

and turned in time to cut down one of the Russians with his sword

as the man ran through the hole.

The scream cut short was enough to get Hiro moving again.

Bullets crashed around him as Kuno stepped away from the hole,

and the rest of the Russians opened up with AK-74s. Clay threw

himself against the wall and began edging away as fast as he could.

All he had left was the Sig. He drew it in one swift motion and

stood in the middle of the hail of bullets and fired twice. His shots

took the closest one square in the chest, pitching him back. He kept

firing, knowing that he was buying time for Ranma and Akane to

escape.

The seventh round was gone and the slide locked back before

he realized what a stupid thing he was doing. A bullet grazed him

across the temple and confirmed it. As he spun around seeing stars

he wished he hadn't done it. When he hit the ground he saw that

Ranma and Akane had put a considerable distance between

themselves and the Embassy. At least he had kept more people

from chasing after them for long enough to let the trail grow cold.

Hope it was worth it, he thought before he blacked out.

Kuno saw Hiro spin around to the ground and felt the splatter

of fine droplets of hot blood upon his face. While Ohata had

never been his friend, he too was a comrade in arms, and he

deserved to be avenged. He would take that vengeance now.

"Oh wretched villains!" He raged at them, as heedless of

the bullets as Hiro had been. (Such courage must only be

recognized in kind.) "Your lives are forfeit! The Blue Thunder

comes for thee!"

A growl arose from the depths of his throat. He raised his sword

on high, and at once sparkling blue flames lit up along the steel. If

he had known that he was doing it, he would have stopped and

stared in awe right there.

But this was Tatewaki Kuno, and when the red rage was

upon him the words 'tunnel vision' failed to describe his lack of

awareness. He charged right at ten men armed with AK-74s with

fifty feet between them. The Russians stood their ground and

dropped into firing stances.

The rifles barked with foot long tongues of flame in the night.

Brass shell casings spurted high into the air in shimmering golden

streams. The sound of so many fully automatic reports was blurred

into an angry roar of gunfire.

They never touched him.

The first one was lifted up into the air with the steely stroke

and flung ten feet away. His uniform became wreathed in eery blue

flames as he hit the ground. The second one took a slash across

the chest and fell back with those same blue flames licking across

his clothes. The third was twisting away in panic and so only lost

an arm at the elbow.

The rest had enough time to scramble away in panic. They did

not face a man but a incoherently babbling demon with a fiery

sword! Kuno bellowed at them to stand and die with some honor.

He shook his flaming sword at them and berated them ceaselessly

for their cowardice. He still hadn't noticed the spectral flames that

danced upon the blade.

Hiro had by this time come around. He had caught the tail end

of Kuno's suicide charge and grit his teeth expecting the swordsman

to get blown into hamburger. Instead the butcher shop belonged to

Tatewaki Kuno. Hiro shook his head in disbelief. This was just like

Korea. His thoughts drifted back to memories of Kuno standing

upright in the middle of artillery barrages unscathed. Of him taunting

machine gun nests as others worked their way in close with

grenades.

And by way, where the hell did those blue flames come from

on his sword? Some terribly rational part of his mind squeaked

in his head.

"How the hell does he do that?" Hiro said to himself. He

brought his hand up to his brow and it came away slicked in blood.

It didn't hurt, yet, and he had more pressing concerns.

Like finding Ranma and Akane before the Russians did.

The truck with Nabiki and Ferguson screeched to a halt next

to Hiro as he stood up. Hiro spun around ready to put his fresh

magazine through them. Nabiki raised her hands to her face,

expecting to get shot.

Hiro lowered the Sig and jumped inside next to Nabiki. She

looked at the dirty, bloody mess he had become, and reached for

something to staunch the free flowing wound at his temple. Hiro

for his part was screaming for Clay and Kuno to get in the truck.

Clay appeared from behind a tree and made his break for the bed.

Kuno looked around him as if he was hearing a ghost, which

considering that he thought Hiro was dead, was exactly what

he was thinking. The sword was no longer alight.

"Kuno you blockhead!" Nabiki yelled at him.

"There isn't time for this!" Hiro yelled. "We gotta go now!"

Kuno stood there with his back to them looking very puzzled.

He couldn't possibly have heard the voice of Nabiki Tendo.

Could he?

Nabiki brought out the big guns.

"Tate-chan!" She called to him sweetly.

This couldn't be a hallucination. Kuno turned around to see

Nabiki Tendo smiling winsomely for him from the window of a

heavy truck. As soon as he figured out that he wasn't seeing things,

her expression became very irate.

"Get in the truck you moron!" She yelled at him.

Kuno turned and ran back for the truck. He saw that Hiro was

still alive, and was about to say something in regards to it when

Nabiki collared him and dragged him halfway through the window.

" Step on it Fergy-baby! " She cried over Kuno's vehement

protestations.

Ferguson put the truck in gear and floored the accelerator. As

the truck sped off down the boulevard, police cars finally showed

up in response to the Embassy's pleas. The gas main continued to

spew fifty foot high flames into the night as they put distance

between themselves and the Russian Embassy.

Palandir wasn't expecting his brother to have fared so well after

his blast. He had thought that he had hurt him. He was mustering

up the power to incinerate the fallen Anazali when he felt another

power surge from behind. He spun around in midair as Aerandir

brought his fists down swiftly to his sides, and the winds spiraled

around the blowtorching gas main, turning it into a tornado of

flame. Aerandir directed the winds again, launching the tornado

at his brother.

Palandir admired his brother's cleverness. He was always a

master of such elemental forces as the wind, never much for the

raw power of an energy blast. His wind attack was subtle in that

Palandir was expecting something flashier, something with a bit

of give-away before it hit.

It took all his will to muster sufficient moisture around him

to keep him from being broiled by the fiery tornado. As it was

he felt the waves of blistering heat all around him, driving him

away as fast as he could fly. He would have to flee or he would

be burnt to a crisp. As long as he was close to the burning gas

main he was vulnerable to more of those tornadoes. He didn't

have a chance at contesting Aerandir for control of the wind.

As he fled his awareness flicked out ahead of him. There

was the unfinished matter of the two Wayfinders. If anyone

needed to die tonight, it was them. Aerandir could wait. When

Sarophan bound the Heart of the World perhaps his brother

would see his mistake. In time they could be reconciled. It might

take a few centuries, but that wasn't an inordinately long amount

of time to wait.

Aerandir knelt over Anazali. She yet lived, though her breathing

was labored. Her eyes had a dull gleam of pain in them.

"That was a stupid thing to do, woman," he told her softly in

the tongue of the Maia. "Had he not split his attack in three parts

you would have been slain."

Anazali looked up with a weary smile for him.

"I had to do something for the living legend of our people."

Aerandir took her up into his arms and carried her gently

towards the gate. The police were arriving, as well as a few fire

trucks called away from the bogus crash site. He walked past

all of them, caressing each man's mind, whispering to them that

there was nothing to see. They let him pass without comment.

He knew that Ranma and Akane had escaped. He could only

hope that they were on their way to the rendezvous point with

Durango and his seaplane for the quick hop across the English

Channel. Palandir was out there as well. He could be searching

for them even as he delayed with Anazali.

A sudden prickling sensation traveled up his spine. He sniffed at

the air then, not liking what he sensed. Anazali wriggled in his arms.

"There, did you feel it too?" She asked him.

"Yes."

"It's coming," she declared. "They won't be leaving Paris yet."

"You are likely correct," he responded.

"Set me down," she told him then. "I can manage for myself

now. You must protect them from Palandir."

Chapter Five

" Where the hell are they? " Heironymous Durango grumbled.

Bettie's Dare was making a slow and low orbital of the vast Bois

de Boulogne Park. They were sufficiently low enough and

screened by the low hills surrounding Paris proper from the air

search radars of Orly and Charles de Gaulle.

Numerous people who walked the park below could see them,

but it was of little matter. Even the emergency authorities would

figure out that the crash was a hoax sooner or later. It was too dark

too make out any details of the plane anyway.

" They'll call, " D-Day said not looking up from the Electronics

Warfare suite. A stray beam of radar energy occasionally hit them,

but not of sufficient strength for the kind of return signal an ATC

would consider to be anything more than ground clutter. He listened

over the headphones, dialing around the various radio and

microwave frequencies to monitor for signs of the rescuers'

progress. (Or detection.)

So far there was mass confusion at the 'crash scene'. Radio

calls for scuba divers and a 100 ton mobile crane were traveling

back and forth across the ether. A frantic report of a gas main

explosion at the Russian Embassy got his attention. He didn't

have enough French to get any details, just enough to pick out

key words.

The cellular phone rang then. Durango fumbled it up with

one hand as he kept the other on the control yoke. He turned

it on and barked, " where are you guys? "

Nabiki's voice replied. " We have a little problem. It's going

to be awhile. "

" What's going on? "

" We got Ranma out, but we lost them in the confusion. We're

trying to find them now. We'll call you when we can. "

Nabiki hung up.

" Shit! " Durango cursed. He looked up to the sky. " I knew

this wasn't going to be easy, but work with me here, okay?! I

thought we were doing the right thing here! "

D-Day looked at him after this outburst.

" Since when did you get religious? "

" Since never, but a little intercession couldn't hurt right now. "

Bettie's Dare continued its impatient orbit of the park.

Ranma and Akane were about to stop running when they

noticed that Fyodor and his men were only two blocks behind.

The Ukrainian and his men were gaining on them. They couldn't

see Hiro or the others anywhere, and suddenly wondered when

they had lost them.

Speaking of lost, they had no idea where they were. They were

just running now. Ranma doubted that he had the kind of

horsepower left to try and fight them. He would if it came

down to it of course, but he wasn't very optimistic about his

chances.

Maybe if I had a chance to rest.

He tugged at Akane's hand and pulled her towards the river.

There was a small park here, perhaps they could lose them through

it and backtrack. Akane followed after, glad at least for bringing

running shoes. She had almost procured a pair of combat boots

like Hiro's for this. Ranma was barefoot. At least he was used to

running barefoot.

"Any ideas?" He asked her.

"What are you asking me for?" She replied with nary a huff.

She was thankful for keeping in shape during their time with the

Professor. The running was paying off.

" 'Cause at the moment I'm fresh out," he declared. "I guess

we can just run all night until we find Hiro and the others."

They ducked through the park and twisted past tress and

jumped over hedgerows. They did everything they could think

of to confuse their pursuers. The park was smaller than they

hoped though, and it soon ended with a broad thoroughfare about

a quarter mile from the Arc de Triomphe. The Seine flowed

leisurely before them, and the twin lights of two raging fires

glowed in the darkened Paris sky. The more distant of the two

began to fade, but the gas main fire still filled the night with an

orange glow.

Fyodor had anticipated their move, and sent three of his men

branching off towards the river while he and the rest stayed on

the trail. When Ranma and Akane burst free of the park they

were only fifty meters away from them.

AK-74s and an MP-5 spat a few dozen rounds in their

direction. With the Russians firing on the run, and Ranma and

Akane moving targets, the most they did was kick up fragments

of stone and macadam at their feet and make a lot of pretty

sparks. The noise did however direct Fyodor and the rest on which

way the couple had run.

"Will you two shut up!" Hiro yelled to Nabiki and Kuno, who

were busy yelling at each other. He thought he heard something.

His outburst silenced them long enough for them to hear the

second burst of gunfire in the distance. Ferguson craned his neck

out of the window to locate the source.

"There, ya see?" He snarled at them. "Shut the hell up so we

can follow after that noise." He elbowed the back window out and

pulled himself gingerly through into the bed of the truck. He saw

Clay sitting there, he was not very content at the moment.

" I'm not cut out for the commando business I'm afraid, " the

parapsychologist remarked.

" You did fine sir, " Hiro replied. " Did you get hurt? "

" Nothing compared to you, Hiro. "

Hiro wiped at his temple again. It was starting to hurt, but

looked far worse than it was. A few stitches at the most. Now if

it had been a centimeter to the right...

A third burst of gunfire perked up his ears. He thumped on the

roof of the six by six truck to get Ferguson's attention.

" To the left Mister Ferguson! Turn left! "

" I bloody well heard it too, Hiro, " Ferguson replied, and

jerked the wheel to the left.

Hiro checked his Sig fully loaded. He was out of ammo for

anything else. Only five magazines too. At the rate he had been

using ammunition, it wouldn't last. He turned over his shoulder

to look at Clay.

" You still have that pistol, sir? "

Clay offered it up to him with the three magazines he had left.

Hiro took the other Sig and smiled. He tucked the extra Sig

magazines in his satchel.

"Just call me 'Pistolero'," he said to himself, holding the two

P-220s up in a gunfighter stance. Gods help those Russians when

he got within range.

They only had one way to go now. Ranma and Akane

sprinted for the bridge across the Seine to the Left Bank.

Fyodor and his men pursued them brandishing their rifles

openly before the throngs of curious that came out of their

homes following the blackout.

Fyodor knocked them over whenever they got in his way. He

wouldn't let Ranma and his fianc饠get away. When the crowds

became too thick to run through, he cut loose with burst of rifle

fire and they obliged him with screams and lots of diving for cover.

Not having a police presence was at last working for them now,

he had no fears of running into a Gendarme with them all over

at the Notre Dame Cathedral.

One of his men blasted away at the two again. He succeeded

in putting out a bunch of automobile windows, but little else.

The gunfire rightly inspired Ranma and Akane to run a little faster.

The Left Bank was on a separate power grid than across the

river. Thus it was still lit. Ornate street lamps glowed for them,

which would have been very pretty to look at and even a little

romantic to stroll under with the love of your life at your side if

there weren't a bunch of bloodthirsty Russians led by one

particularly psychotic Ukrainian hot on your heels. He looked

to Akane. At least he had the love of his life by his side.

At first Ranma didn't realize what he was running towards.

He was too busy trying to stay on his feet and avoid all of the

people that were outside to watch the disturbances in the city.

Fyodor and his goon squad shooting at them at least got the

citizens out of their way.

It was when Akane gasped in awe that he looked up. Not so far

ahead of them was the Eiffel Tower. His nightmare came back to

him in a rush. Every fiber in his being wanted to drag him in some

other direction.

The sudden appearance of Palandir above them gave him other

ideas. Like ducking for cover. He and Akane made a sudden juke

to the right as Palandir rained down a vicious blast of crimson heat

death at them. The blast dug a meter wide trench through the street.

Fyodor and his men pointed up into the sky and began shooting at

Palandir.

The range was long, only a single round zipped through the

Maia. He clutched at his chest as blood spurted forth from the front

and the rear of his body. He felt the round pass straight through

him. It punctured his right lung, which was bad in and of itself,

but at least the tiny 5.45mm round hadn't struck bone. He could

cope.

He coughed up a little blood, willing away the sudden fire in his

chest cavity from the collapsed lung. The pain at least fueled his

rage. He called up a bolt of hellfire from within him heedless of

the fact that he might need it to heal himself. This was the first

time one of these worms had injured him in a very long time.

That insult would not go unaddressed.

"DIE!!!" He told the offending rifleman. The hellfire spurted

forth from his hand to strike the Russian square in the chest. The

man burst into spectral flames and fell to the ground writhing in

agony. Fyodor and the rest dove for cover as the man's dying

screams echoed across the well to do neighborhood. There was

just a pile of ashes when it was over.

Palandir sank to the ground. It was too much to remain in the

air and try and repair the damage within him at the same time. He

watched Ranma and Akane sprint away like rabbits and gurgled

an impotent curse at them. He had spent the last of his offensive

strength in that wasteful lesson upon the rifleman.

Fyodor looked up to the sky, but the man was gone. He knew

it was the same man who had nearly killed him at the Dniester

river. The same man who had been ghosting Doctor Casimir's

research group, and his own men for months.

Cautiously he got to his feet. Upon seeing that no bolts of light

struck him down, the survivors joined him. They made their way

forward, using the parked cars for cover. When he got close to

where the man had floated, he saw a fresh pool of blood, still

warm.

He bleeds... Fyodor thought to himself. The others saw

the blood and drew the same conclusion as himself. We can

kill this man if he shows his face again. We must simply be faster

on the draw.

" Keep after them, " he told his men. " But keep an eye out

for Georgi's killer. "

Ranma and Akane didn't know that Palandir was wounded.

They kept running in the only direction they had available. That

was in the direction of the Eiffel Tower.

Once they scrambled across the marble tiles a hundred yards

from the Tower they realized that while Palandir was not chasing

them anymore, Fyodor and his goon squad were. The ironwork

of the Tower suddenly sounded like a good hiding spot.

Maybe I could take them out one or two at a time up there.

No way I could do it out here in the open. I'd just get the both of

us shot.

"Come on," he told her. "To the tower."

She followed him across the marble tiles and skirted around

a large pool. The fountains were spraying and cheerfully lit with

white, blue, and red lights. The massive ironwork frame of the

Eiffel Tower towered three hundred meters high before them.

The elevators were shut down, and the doors to the stairwells

up the four legs of the tower were locked. A few twenty-something

Parisians watched them scramble around for a way up in

amusement. Finally Ranma got mad enough to rip a door off

it's hinges. The Parisians decided to leave quickly at this point.

He and Akane clambered up the winding iron stairs as fast as

they could. The first observation deck was a good ways up. When

they got there they were starting to get winded.

"How far have we been running?" Akane asked him with a pant.

"Four, five miles. Plus all the fighting, running up these damn

stairs." Ranma paused to catch his breath. It was then that he

realized that he had caught a piece of shrapnel from those

grenades. Either that or piece of the pavement that Palandir

blew up right behind them. His back was sore, and fresh blood

came away from his hand.

Akane gasped in fright.

"Ranma!" She cried.

"I'm all right. I don't think it's bad." He told her. "I just

noticed it myself."

She wasn't buying it. She turned him around and gingerly

lifted the tattered tuxedo jacket and shirt to inspect the wound.

There was a piece of steel wire just sticking out of the small of

his back, to the left of his spine. It was just like the piece Hiro

had pulled out of his leg. She couldn't tell how much was inside,

and was afraid to touch it for fear of hurting Ranma even worse.

"Oh my God, Ranma. There's a piece of metal in your back."

She said in a frightened voice. She thought of him huddling over

her when those grenades had exploded. The shrapnel was meant

for her.

"I said I'll be okay. It ain't the first time for me you know.

It's just another scar to add to the collection, that's all."

It would be nice if it would stop happening though...

"It's the first time I've had to know about it," she told him

crossly. "You know I worry about you just as much as you

worry about me."

He looked softly at her. He knew she cared, but there was a

time and a place for it. This wasn't the time and it wasn't the place.

"I know you do Akane. But right now we gotta think of a place

to hide from these guys. Come on." He took her by the hand.

The first observation deck was also a restaurant. It was also

locked. Ranma had committed enough property damage for one

night. There were other places they could hide.

"Higher?" Akane asked as they came to the next set of stairs.

"Yeah, that way we'll be able to hold them off easier." He

gestured to the way the four legs of the tower gracefully arched

inwards towards each other at the top. "If we get lucky they won't

look for us here. But don't count on it, 'cause so far our luck ain't

been so good."

" They could have gone anywhere by now! " Fyodor

thundered. The park was big and open, but with their head start

they could have gone in any direction and disappeared from

sight by now.

The gaggle of Parisians ran by. He stopped them short with a

quick burst of rifle fire. He turned to Mikhail, who spoke French,

and pointed at the college students. Mikhail asked them if they had

seen a young Japanese couple, and that they had best answer as

quickly and as honestly as possible. Fyodor brandished his rifle

and scowled at them from beneath his dark forelocks for effect.

The students pointed frantically at the Eiffel Tower. Fyodor

looked at the imposing structure and nodded. With a quick word

to Mikhail and the others he started stomping off towards the

tower. The students huddled together, fully expecting to be shot.

When the last of the Russians turned his back, they ran away as

fast and as quietly as they could.

Ferguson didn't need to follow the sounds of gunfire anymore.

He just asked all of the frightened Parisians on the streets a few

direct questions and was rewarded with the direction they had run

and how long ago that was. The hard part was getting through the

traffic.

It seemed everyone in the city was driving around to see what

was going on. Everyone was talking about the airplane crash they

heard about over battery operated radios. Now there was a terrorist

bombing at the Russian Embassy or something. A gas line had

exploded and threatened that part of the city.

Hiro stood in the bed of the six by six with his pistols lowered

in hand. They were catching up, but how far away were the

Russians? At least no one had said anything about two Japanese

being killed.

" A little traffic control if you would please, Hiro, " Ferguson

grunted as the cars moving across the Seine wouldn't let them get

by and onto the bridge.

Hiro complied. He jumped out of the truck, favoring his

wounded leg, and stumped over to the offending automobile

drivers. He was in no mood to mince around with pleasantries.

His friends lives' were in danger.

He casually smashed the driver's side window of the first car

trying to cut them off and jammed one of the Sigs against the

driver's nose. With the other Sig in hand he waved the truck

through. The driver of the car began to babble in terror. Hiro

screamed at him to shut up in Japanese and dug the pistol in

a little deeper. The man shut up.

Ferguson rolled by.

" Thank you, Hiro. "

" No problem, Mister Ferguson, " Hiro smiled.

When the truck was on the bridge Hiro removed the pistol from

the man's nose. There was a little .45 caliber sized circular

indentation pressed into the end. He bowed for the man and

jogged at a limp to the truck and hopped into the bed. The truck

sped off across the bridge. Nabiki gave him a wink and a grin

through the broken back window of the cab.

It was only when the queue of cars behind him began honking

and yelling at him that he remembered to start driving again.

They got across the bridge. About that time the Parisian

students who had narrowly escaped Fyodor with their lives

came barreling through. Hiro and Ferguson had seen enough of

that in the last few minutes to know that they were on the right

track.

Ferguson yelled for them to stop. They kept going. Hiro waved

the pistols in their faces and they came to a weary halt, not

believing their ill fortune this evening. Ferguson asked them the

standard questions. They replied that a bunch of rifle toting thugs

had also asked them about Ranma and Akane. Then they pointed

to the Eiffel Tower.

Ferguson thanked them for their help and floored the

accelerator.

The students decided to call it a night before someone did

decide to shoot them at the end of the interview.

Nabiki decided that now would be a good time to call Durango.

She picked up the cellular phone and began dialing. Kuno was

sulking in his seat next to her. He had wanted to swim in the hot

flowing rivers of his enemies' blood, but so far they had all just

run away the minute he started hacking up their companions. It

just wasn't fair that no one would give him a stand up fight.

" Now where the hell are you? " Heironymous Durango

asked her in a grouchy voice as he picked up the phone on his end.

" No need to be rude, " Nabiki berated him. " We're coming

up on the Eiffel Tower. Can you land in the river to pick us up? "

" Sister, I can put this boat down anywhere you like, " came

Durango's self-assured reply. " Did you get them? "

" Not yet, but we're going to right now. You'd better hurry

though. "

" I copy. We're on the way. "

Nabiki hung up.

" Okay, we're cooking with gas now! " Durango told D-Day.

" How's it looking for the river near the Eiffel Tower? "

D-Day consulted his chart. " Looks good. Nice and wide. About

a quarter mile stretch between bridges. "

" Goddamn! " Durango cried. " How about a challenge

already? "

" I'd settle for just pulling this one off now, man. "

Durango had to concede that point. While the aerial phase of

this operation had gone off without a hitch (he knocked on a piece

of the plywood divider panel), the ground phase had gone straight

to hell. Drinking a stiff snort of the Professor's brandy and smoking

a good Churchill sounded really great right now.

He nosed the throttles forward a bit and pulled the Catalina

into a nice wide flat turn. He didn't have the altitude to try

anything terribly fancy. He set course straight for the Eiffel

Tower, another Paris landmark someone had thoughtfully

illuminated for him. Then he lit up one of his Don Diego

Churchills, sucked in a huge drag, and then began chewing on

the end as the smoke spilled out of his grinning mouth.

Ranma and Akane were up to the second observation deck now.

It was about halfway up the tower. They stopped to rest for a few

minutes. At least they would be able to see Fyodor and his goon

squad approaching.

What they didn't know was that Fyodor and his goon squad

were already there. They had missed their approach as they

climbed the many steps to the second deck. They also didn't

know that Mikhail knew where the circuit breakers for the

elevators were.

So when two of Fyodor's men stepped out of the elevator with

rifles at the ready, you can imagine Ranma and Akane's surprise.

They froze in place. The two men began to fan out, covering

each other with their rifles. The tower made the occasional settling

noise, even after over a century of standing, and the two would

carefully investigate each one. In one of those occupied moments

Ranma pulled Akane quietly up into the ironwork structure

When one of them nosed close, Ranma carefully made his

way along the ironwork and hung upside down over the man.

His hands lashed out, snapping the man's neck instantly. The

Russian slumped to the deck.

Ranma pulled himself back up into the ironwork. Hopefully

Akane hadn't seen that. He may have gotten over his reluctance to

kill when necessary, but it was never an act he was proud of.

His partner lost sight of him and called out softly in Russian.

If Ranma had even a clue about that language he might have said

something softly in reply to allay the man's suspicions. Instead he

waited very patiently. This was for Akane's sake he told himself.

He reached down to snap his neck when he got close. At that

moment the piece of shrapnel in his back shifted, and a white hot

sliver of pain shot out to the ends of all his nerves. It was too

sudden and too intense to hold back a gasp of pain.

The Russian jumped back and cut loose with a long burst

above him.

Bullets zinged and whined around him with bright firework

flowers of red and orange sparks. The Russian had misguessed

his position, but in the spray of light from the long muzzle flash

he saw where Ranma hung.

He dropped back and corrected his aim. Ranma flew out of

the girders and somersaulted onto the ground. The second burst

went high, ringing across the iron work. Ranma charged the man

before he could get a third burst off.

He took the man with a head butt in the midsection. The man

nearly dropped his rifle as Ranma slammed him against a beam.

Then his back spasmed again and he lost his leverage.

The Russian dropped his rifle down hard on Ranma's back.

The young martial artist felt his knees go weak and he slumped to

the deck. The Russian threw a loose knife-edge kick that caught

him across the jaw. Ranma flew backwards and splayed along the

deck.

The Russian leveled his rifle to shoot Ranma through the chest

when Akane cried out in her most wrathful voice:

"DROP IT OR I'LL KILL YOU!!!"

It was at this point that the Russian noticed that Akane was

pointing an AK-74 at him. She had screamed at him in Japanese,

which he didn't understand a word of, but the rifle made her intent

clear enough. Ranma looked up from the floor in shock.

She doesn't know how to use one of those! Does she...?

The Russian decided she was serious enough to use the rifle.

He spun on her and squeezed the trigger. Nothing! The rifle

was empty!

Her body was moving too fast for her mind to register this fact.

Akane closed her eyes and jerked at her trigger.

The AK-74 exploded into a fusillade of 5.45mm copper-jacketed

lead. Shell casings spilled all over the ironwork. She had no firm

concept of recoil, as the only guns she had ever really seen in action

before this night had been on television or the movies.

Thus when she began hosing her Russian-made heater at the

man, she quickly lost control. The assault rifle belched out its

storm of fully automatic fire totally out of control. She tried to

walk it back in the right direction, but just kept throwing the

bullets around in crazy circles. She was clamped down on the

trigger in panic, too busy trying to hold onto the damn thing to

realize that if she let off the trigger it would stop on its own.

Guess not! Ranma thought suddenly in terror.

He threw himself into a fetal position in the hopes that the

wild ricochets she was causing wouldn't hit him. Spent rounds

crashed and whined all over the second deck. The stroboscopic

flashes of gunfire made for interesting lighting effects upon the

iron framework, but Ranma was too busy fearing for his life to

appreciate it.

About three seconds later the rifle was empty.

The Russian slid down the girder to the deck and lay very still.

Akane dropped the rifle and stared at the man in shock and

self loathing.

Ranma got back to his feet and looked at the Russian. Akane

was close to tears at this point, but something was very wrong here.

There should have been enough blood and gore splattered all over

the place to look like a slaughterhouse. He crept over to the man.

"Don't touch him," Akane gasped.

Ranma looked down to the man.

Jeez... Full auto at point blank range and she couldn't hit

him once... He must have passed out from fright.

Then the smell hit him. He jerked his face away and tried

not to gag.

Yep... He was scared all right!

He stood up and laughed at her.

"Akane, you are such a klutz!" He said with a wry smile.

"What?!" She spluttered.

"Next time let the professional handle it."

Akane began to realize that she hadn't killed the man. Her

sense of relief was suddenly cut short as her brain engaged again.

"Professional? If I hadn't done that you'd be dead now!"

She protested.

"You damn near killed me yourself with that thing." He nudged

at the depleted rifle with his foot. "Where'd you get it anyway?"

"From the guy whose neck you broke," she replied off-handedly.

He suddenly flushed with shame.

She punched him lightly in the arm. "I don't think badly of you

Ranma..." She said quietly. "You did what had to be done..."

"Come on," he said then, not wishing to discuss it further. He

snatched up the other guy's rifle and the few spare magazines.

The smell was really bad now. He decided the best thing he could

do was leave him there after taking everything he might use to fight

with. "This is bound to attract attention."

Fyodor and the others converged on the elevators from the

third and highest deck. At a radio prompt from Fyodor, Mikhail

secured the elevators from the first deck down so they couldn't

escape the tower. There was no radio contact from Sergei or from

Anton, and that was a bad sign.

Ranma and Akane took the elevator down to the first deck. If

the Russians could use them, they weren't going to argue about it.

Hopefully they could sneak away.

The doors opened onto the first deck. A Russian was there with

his back towards them. Another was standing on the other side of

the first, facing the elevator. He yelled, Ranma yelled, Akane

yelled. The first Russian turned around in time to catch Ranma's

fist in his face. His knees went out as Akane stabbed at the 'door

close' button. The doors slid shut and up they went.

Bullets slammed into the elevator, but with all of the iron

framework around them, they were just ricochets.

The truck stopped at the base of the tower. Hiro wasted no

time in shooting the Russian who stood guard over a service

shack next to one of the massive legs. It was Mikhail, and now

he had a couple hydrashoks in his gut to worry about. He clutched

at his stomach as Hiro kicked away his rifle.

The man wasn't in any shape to answer questions, so he and

Kuno looked at the stairway door ripped off its hinges and drew

their own conclusions. Hiro threw the rifle to Nabiki, who passed

it immediately to Ferguson. The scientist studied the weapon for a

few moments before setting it on the dash.

" I don't know how to use it either, lass, " he explained to her.

" That's why we have Hiro. "

They came out on the second deck again. For a minute Ranma

considered trying the stairs, but they all passed the first deck in big

wide open areas. It was possible to cover three legs of the tower

from one corner. That was asking to get shot.

As the doors opened, Ranma took a quick look around. There

was nothing in front of the doors. He poked his head out, and

Fyodor jerked him out of the elevator the rest of the way. The

man's huge hand neatly palmed the top of Ranma's head as he

did so. As Ranma flew across the observation deck, his rifle

spilled over the side and was gone.

Fyodor's partner grabbed at Akane. She responded by cold-

cocking him with a shot to the jaw. The Russian made one startled

cry before flying into Fyodor, and knocking his rifle from his hand.

Akane launched a desperate kick at the weapon, punting it neatly

over the side.

The big Ukrainian backhanded her in response. She flew against

the elevator with a cry of pain. Fyodor palmed her head as well

and threw her in Ranma's direction. Ranma caught her up in his

arms and kept her from joining the two rifles over the side.

"I think we're in trouble," he whispered to her. This was starting

to look chillingly like their favorite nightmare. He turned over his

shoulder and looked out across Paris.

Definitely looks familiar, he thought darkly.

"I don't need a weapon," Fyodor menaced in badly accented

Japanese. He popped his knuckles and started walking towards

them.

Ranma sighed tiredly. He was just about out of gas at this point.

He had maybe a minute of no holds barred fight left in him. Keeping

Akane at his back, he assumed a fighting stance appropriate for

facing off against Godzilla.

As Fyodor closed the range, two more of his men appeared

from the elevators. They had come from the first deck obviously.

" Mikhail is hit, " one of them stammered. " He may be dead! "

Fyodor stopped. " What?! " He bellowed, still keeping his eyes

on Ranma. " Mikhail's on the ground! How could he be dead? "

" He isn't answering on the radio! "

Ranma began to feel a peculiar tingling sensation at the base of

his spine. At first he thought it was the piece of metal stuck in him.

But when his tongue began to tingle he began to tremble with anger.

The wind began to pick up around them.

Not now! Anytime but now! I don't need this kind of

distraction!

Akane touched him worriedly. She could feel it too.

Fyodor decided that they had no time to play around. If Mikhail

was dead then the friends of these two were on their way. He gestured

to the two Japanese who were obviously quivering with fear.

" Shoot them and let's get out of here, " he ordered them.

The two leveled their rifles at Ranma and Akane.

"I love you, Ranma," she whispered desperately.

"It ain't over yet."

Hiro and Kuno charged up the stairs at the run. Hiro couldn't

even feel his leg wound anymore he was so charged up. Hiro had the

lead, and body checked one of the gunmen. His burst cut loose into the

overhead and he fell to the ground. The second one spun around in time

to catch Kuno's katana in the belly. The swordsman opened him up like

a can of spam.

"Go, Akane!" Ranma yelled, pushing her away from him. Sparkles of

light began to dance around them.

Fyodor was too fast for them. He palmed Akane by the face and

threw her over the side of the rail. Ranma twisted backwards to catch

her arm and was pulled over the side with her. They fell towards

unforgiving concrete hundreds of feet below.

"NO!!!" Hiro screamed. He emptied both Sigs into Fyodor's chest.

Every round struck dead on, but the giant didn't even flinch. Hiro

stared dumbfounded.

"Body armor," Fyodor replied smugly in his mangled Japanese.

"No coat of mail shall withstand the blade of the Blue Thunder!"

Kuno bellowed. Upon seeing Ranma and Akane plummet over the side his

heart twisted in rage beyond imagining. Once again his katana burst

forth with spectral blue flames, though once again he was unaware of

that fact.

Fyodor knew a few kevlar panels weren't going to stop a katana.

Particularly one that suddenly burst into flames. He wished now that

he had waited long enough in Monaco to kill this raving samurai lunatic.

The man is relentless!

He did the only thing he could in that situation, which was pick

up the stunned Maxim and throw him at Kuno.

The swordsman lashed out with his blade so swiftly that Maxim

was diced into bite sized pieces before his mortal remains could hit

the ground. It was just enough of a delay for Fyodor to make a

break for the stairs. He drew a Tokarev and emptied it ineffectually

at them in escape. Kuno tried to pursue but slipped on Maxim and

lost his balance enough for the Ukrainian to get away.

The wind was bitter and cold and just getting stronger.

Hiro began to notice the sparkles of light in the air. Then he

heard a very faint cry for help.

He looked over the side to see Ranma hanging by one arm

from the framework, with Akane clutching tightly to his chest.

They were a long way down.

"Saotome! Akane-chan!" he cried.

Ranma couldn't hold on for much longer. He was too weak

and wasted, and in addition to having himself to worry about

there was Akane weighing him down even more. He could feel

his grip loosening more and more. It was about a hundred feet

to the ground. He looked up to Hiro high above him. That was

about two hundred and fifty feet of climb, assuming he could

get a foot hold somewhere. Which he couldn't.

The light began to sparkle around them. He grit his teeth in

anger. Who cared if the next event was here and now? They

were gonna die and it wouldn't make any difference. The wind

became even stronger now, rocking them back and forth as

they hung.

"I can't look," Akane said in a soft voice.

"It ain't over yet," Ranma growled. He tried to make himself

believe it.

The sparkling lights became even brighter, more numerous, it

was just a matter of moments now before the next event unfolded

around them.

Ferguson felt the wind pick up. He looked up at the tower and

saw that it was shimmering faintly with a golden light. Motes of

color began to appear around it. Even Nabiki noticed it.

" What the heck is that? " She asked.

" It's the next event! " Clay cried from the bed of the truck.

He stood up and began to open himself to it as he had many times

before.

" Bloody hell! " Ferguson yelled. " We're missing it! My

equipment! "

"I got an idea," he told her as they nearly fell. He clamped

down hard on the girder and garnered them an extra few seconds

of purchase.

Akane was ready to hear him tell her they could fly.

"We're gonna fly," he told her.

Well, not quite ready for that.

She gave him a hopeless look in response. The wind was raging

around them now. They were oscillating pretty badly.

"No I mean it!" Ranma protested. "Anazali said I could draw

on this kinda stuff, that I just didn't know I was doing it. I don't

have the power left to try this now, and I don't think you do either,

but what about when the event gets here? You know how much

power there is when that happens."

She could already feel the enormous buildup of energy around

them.

The event unfolded then with a flash of brilliant white light. A

rush of wind tore them free from the girder, and for a moment they

were actually heading upwards. Then they began their fall towards

the ground.

"Hold on tight!" Ranma cried. He had all the power he needed

in that moment.

" There's your intercession, man! " D-Day yelled as the Eiffel

Tower lit up before them. A column of golden light rose high into

a bank of clouds from the tower. Paris was aglow with the light,

truly living up to its name.

Durango grinned and put his sunglasses on.

"Oh God!" Nabiki cried as she looked up and saw Ranma and

Akane falling through waves of golden light.

This is the only flying trick I know... Ranma thought in that

instant before release. Akane could feel the air get very cold around

them as he drew the energy in for his blast.

He held onto Akane with one arm and thrust the other up into the

air as they plummeted straight down.

"HIRYU SHOTEN HA!!!"

He dropped his arm savagely towards the ground. The Dragon

Cyclone blowtorched through them and spiraled towards the ground.

It rebounded then and shot back up at them. Ranma nearly lost his

hold on Akane as the blast wave struck them.

Now they were flying. Flying straight through blinding amounts

of energy. Ten times what they'd endured in the Alhambra. It was

like being in the center of a brilliant and comfy warm sun.

In fact they were flying straight up the now golden sides of the

Eiffel Tower. Very fast. Hiro saw them coming and reached out with

his arms. Kuno held onto Hiro to keep him from going over the side.

At the very limit of his reach he caught them.

Ranma and Akane couldn't feel it, because they were somewhere

and somewhen else right then.

They saw an island nation in the very zenith of its existence.

Radiant people like Aerandir and Anazali walked the wide tree lined

streets. Baroque flying machines formed like butterflies, birds, and

even more exotic creatures floated silently upon the air.

They found themselves standing in a great public square filled

with people. Before them was an enormous pyramid of white stone. Golden

light flowed from the top of the pyramid and bathed everything in its

radiance.

Akane turned, and there were the stone lion fountains of the

Alhambra standing next to them. Water continued to flow from

their mouths as they spoke to them. The water flowed around them

and then seemed to fade away.

"Watch," they told them. "Learn."

They looked back to the pyramid, which began to shimmer and

quake. People began to look around in distress. The radiant glow of

light began to change colors to an angry red. They watched as a

hundred men in flowing robes scaled the pyramid at a run. They

raised their hands to the sky, perhaps praying, perhaps fighting what

was happening.

It was to no avail.

The pyramid exploded with the force of a hydrogen bomb. As the

blast wave rolled out to consume the island, Ranma and Akane saw

that the people did not disintegrate, but were instead drawn into the

fiery core of the blast. Everyone was sucked into the fireball even as

the seas drowned the entire island.

The lions were weeping water from their eyes as well as their

mouths.

"We are trapped in the Heart of the World," they told them. "But

you must not free us."

Ranma and Akane looked at them in puzzlement.

"If you're trapped, then why don't you want to be free?" Akane

asked.

The stone lions looked at her. "To free us would mean to repeat

this tragedy. Never again."

The fireball faded away from their eyes. A small white pyramid

appeared then before them. Ranma could see into it, and he suddenly

knew how perfectly it was formed. He didn't know how he knew,

but he was getting used to the practice of ideas being planted into his

head.

He also knew how important it was for the pyramid to remain

flawless within. And for some odd reason how important it was for

the pyramid, no, something corrected him; for the prism to be flawed

within. Very important. Part of his consciousness slapped him around

and told him to pay attention to that last part.

The world exploded back into view around them. Hiro heaved

with all his might and pulled them onto the observation deck. The

night sky went dark again and the wind died away around them.

Hiro held the two of them close to him. They trembled in his

embrace at the power and vision they had experienced. The Eiffel

Tower's radiance faded away and returned to its regular black iron

self. Kuno stood guard over them, his sword no longer burning.

Bettie's Dare was twenty minutes from the McFogg estate.

Ferguson and Clay sat on chairs and dozed idly. Kuno knelt on the

floor of the cabin and meditated upon his sword. Nabiki cleaned

up the bloody mess that was Hiro's face, clucking motherly every

time he winced. The gash on his temple was only going to need a

few stitches. Hiro carried on like he was mortally wounded.

Durango poked his head in to check on everyone while D-Day

had the wheel. They were bloody, they were hurting, and they were

very tired. One thing was certain however: When they looked to the

other side of the cabin, what they saw told each of them that the

price they'd paid was worth it.

Akane cradled Ranma in her lap. He was fast asleep, the first

decent sleep he'd had since his abduction. She was happy to hold

him close and occasionally whisper something in his ear. He never

responded, but he had a deep and contented smile.

End of Part Eight

Author's Notes:

1) I had meant for a lot more to be discussed in this installment than

space permitted. Part 8 is really the rescue of Ranma now. I

suppose if you're happy then I'm happy. Part 9 was my buffer

installment against my dreaded literary elephantitus anyway.

2) I would like to thank Big T of Fission Park for his assistance with

the procedures for declaring in-flight emergencies and with general

Air Traffic Control protocols. Squawking '7700' with your transponder

is an emergency signal. 121.5 MHz is the distress radio frequency.

3) I would also like to thank Front 242, Gravity Kills, Metallica,

Black Sabbath and Blue Oyster Cult for their invaluable inspiration

while I wrote this. For your own information, the original draft

of Part 8 was much bloodier because of them. Later I felt that

the violence needed to be toned down, although the recent spate

of snuff-fics on the FFML may have desensitized some of you.

4) Last of all I thank my proofreaders and Men in Europe, who

kindly pointed out all of my mistakes. These would be Jerome in

Paris, Chris Rijk in London (even if we rarely agree, thanks

whole bunches), and Bridget Engmen with her fine toothed comb.

(Even if she isn't in Europe, I'm including her anyway.)

5) You didn't really think I was going to have Akane kill someone did

you? Shame on you!

Free the Nukes!