God, long time no update! . And for that, here goes an extra-long one with a page count of 10 on Microsoft Word! Almost to the end of the first plot arc, and so excited! Follow me on twitter or like the BSoul FB page for regular updates (links in profile.)
Don't own Death Note. Since I think you get the picture, no more disclaimers for me ;D
- Apprehension -
To the couch, around the table and back again. Past the forgotten auto magazine and shiny, onyx Beretta 90two lying on the transparent glass table, right to the end of the suite's living room and back again. Scarlett paced, fully aware that she was about to embark on the mission of her life.
Her clock informed her that is was almost time to depart. Rushing into the bathroom to perform a final appearance check, she gave her once again blindingly blonde hair a quick tousle, grimacing while at it. Scarlett made a quick vow to never go lighter than a soft brunette again. Scrutinizing her final look in the full-length steel-trim mirror, she observed how the hair colour clashed violently with the dark jeans and loose fitting tee that was standard mission wear for the SIS agent. Black low-top converse completed the outfit, of course. Letting her hair fall down her back in waves was unusual- for usually she wore it up for convenience- but today, it was necessary to complete her full profile that would be seen from behind the translucent glass screen. Scarlett smiled at herself, the mirror reflecting her every move. Perfect.
Pacing out of the bathroom, her mind jumped to other things while her body ran autopilot. Scarlett had gone through each of these motions so many times before, she was certain she could perform them in her sleep if necessary. Not advisable, but she could be driven to try.
Fasten wrist braces and ankle braces, then secure tightly. She had already been up earlier in the day to grab a quick breakfast complements of Watari, and had met Scout and some interesting news downstairs. It startled her to think that the Task Force's newest (and almost greatest) asset had departed early in the morning for a destination she would not reveal to anyone. And just like that, her greatest annoyance who had shown up one morning like a slap in the face was gone- for good. It was almost too good to be true.
Tuck shirt into pants and secure two throwing knives in the waistband. Matsuda had relayed no change in plans to her so far, and was currently getting ready for the mission himself. As far as she knew, he then planned to relax in his suite with a movie he's wanted to see for ages, while keeping the other TV stuck on the Sakura news channel. She had a feeling he was more reluctant today- he didn't want to hand over the crucial mission quite so easily. But the plans had already been set and Scarlett wasn't changing hers for anyone.
Pick up gun and spare gun, fire a blank shot and conceal in small, camouflaged holster (she thanked the high heavens for modern technology and soundproof walls.) L had called Namikawa earlier as well, following the plan perfectly, and they had discovered that both the businessman himself and three of his co-workers already knew who Kira was, based solely on their deduction skills. L was impressed, but Scarlett didn't think too much of it. She was busy, and didn't want to associate herself with the dark-haired quirky detective in any way. Kane had actually put voice to his accusations, but the second Wammy was out of the picture now and Scarlett had seen through Kane's front and to the one behind the thoughts, and the reason why she hadn't officially been appointed this mission- L. Kane would never have been able to keep her from the mission if L had decided for it, and it would have been downright petty to do so- she just enjoyed rubbing it in when the one pulling the strings had already made his final decision. Hurt blossomed in Scarlett's chest where anger had once made itself at home. Was it all an act? I thought he trusted me. I thought I was special- I truly thought he considered me a friend.
She now saw how wrong she had been. The famed detective L made no personal connections, and couldn't afford friends. But if they were almost as smart as him and came from the same background, it seemed an exception could be made.
Throwing on her leather biker jacket over her heavy shirt, she grabbed her Augusta keys and crept out of the suite entrance, closing the door without any sound whatsoever. The silent agent chose the stairs over the elevator, taking them three at a time as she made her way down to the ground below. Stopping behind the door that led to the main Task Force area, Scarlett pressed her ear to the door, shivering slightly as an ice-cold shock traveled down her body at the touch of the cold steel. Hearing only muted conversation from three people at the most, she was about to turn and make her escape out of the fire exit adjacent to her when a converse-clad foot brushed a pristine white envelope.
Bending down and picking it up out of sheer curiosity, Scarlett's eyes widened as they took in the handwritten letter "L" that was scrawled on the front of the paper sheath. Not being able to place the writing due to the frequent use of computers in Headquarters, she opened the letter, taking the utmost care not to make a sound. No, it wasn't addressed to her, but it was in her way, and it wasn't like she was able to hand it to its proper recipient at the moment.
On a similarly white sheet of paper with a sole smudge of dirt at the top were the following sentences written:
L
I know I could've stayed longer, but I truly couldn't take it anymore. I think I know what you were about to say that night, and I'm afraid of what would've happened if you had finished. Although that outcome would have been more favourable than the other... I digress. The Kira case is in your hands now, and please make a promise that you will come home after. Our relationship is completely messed up, but I think we could fix it. We're two of the smartest people in the world- what can't we do, when we put our minds to it? That's a question that we should try and figure out, I think. Together.
Thanks for the hospitality, I guess. And if you don't come home... I'll understand.
-K
The anger that she had suppressed since yesterday came trickling back, dripping over her vision like poison and covering everything in a crimson red haze. Scout was right. She had felt an unexplainable connection with the famed detective, and had been positive that he had felt it too. But now it had become crystal clear that L and Kane's intertwined past at Wammy's was nothing that Scarlett, the agent from the SIS that no one had known from a hole in the ground, could ever compete in any way with. Any shreds of shattered dreams of becoming close with L had disappeared in that moment.
She transferred the anger's power to her fist and crumpled the letter beyond repair, not caring in the slightest whether the people through the door could hear or not. Running headlong for the fire exit and bursting out onto the sidewalk beyond, Scarlett let the torrential rain wash over her, calming without the added cold. Her fist unclenched, letting the letter fall and be transformed almost instantly into a sopping pile of sludge on the slick pavement below. Scarlett lifted her hand to her jaw line, brushing aside her already drenched blonde tresses and stopping on the small earpiece fastened just below her right ear. Ripping it violently away from her body, she let that object fall too, watching as the high-quality headgear sparked and sizzled upon contact with the powerful outside element. It had given her an escape plan, a means of contact to Matsuda and later, when they had discovered it, the whole Task Force. But no longer. Looking back she would see just how stupid it was, allowing emotions to take the astounding hold on her they laid claim to at this moment. But as she narrowed her eyes against the downpour and walked slowly to her bike, readily parked at the curb, Scarlett was determined to accomplish this alone.
Even if everything she believed in was a lie, she could always count on one thing- motorcycle rides calmed her down. Pulling up to the extremely imposing office tower that was Sakura Media and expertly directing her tire spray away from the company's few entering visitors, Scarlett then climbed off the mechanical beast and shook her hair, vainly attempting to vanquish the wetness that was constantly accumulating in her blonde locks. Strangely, while she had been traveling from Headquarters to the site of her mission, a certain brunette teen of the opposite gender had crossed her thoughts again. Scarlett shook her head in exasperation- she knew this part of herself only too well. When she was disappointed or angry about an aspect of her life, she turned a blind eye to it, turning her thoughts to a more positive subject of the same nature while blinding herself to the painfully obvious truth. Something she would have to work at fixing, but not now.
Through the torrential downpour she could vaguely make out a dark shape striding towards her. Leaning against her motorbike, Scarlett leaned forward curiously and found herself face to face with a Tokyo police officer.
"I would like to inquire as to the whereabouts of your helmet, miss." His voice was the perfect policeman stereotype- strong and no-nonsense.
Scarlett laughed. She knew that many people automatically felt nervous around officers, but for her, there was no need.
"C'mon, officer, gimme a break. Here you go-" she slipped out a laminated card the size of a driver's license and handed it to him discreetly. He examined it and visibly started- it was obvious that he hadn't come across an agent in his life, with their nonchalant way of notifying the officers of lower status of their identity. Scarlett was abusing her status, of course. Even if she was an agent, that was no guarantee that accidents wouldn't happen. No human was above the laws of nature.
"I cannot fine you, but I can suggest that you should be wearing a helmet. Safety precautions still apply to you guys!" He had restated almost exactly what she had been thinking.
Scarlett's smile only grew. She was living off adrenaline, too caught up in the self-induced high that numbed her problems to care about such a mundane word as "safety."
"Ah, but helmets go against my motto, officer- If you're not living on the edge, well, then you're taking up too much space. Now where's Sakura's main entrance? I have an appointment."
Helpless, the policeman could only shake his head and point the teen in the correct direction. As she ran for the imposing glass door, she was sure that her ears picked up something about "young agents" and "early death."
Scarlett was relieved to be free from the storm's clutches, although the woman manning the front desk seemed less than pleased to find a sopping wet teenager dripping on the polished stone floor. Unperturbed, she made her way forwards, stopping to tastefully tuck her soaked jacket under her arm before approaching the secretary.
"I'm here for the six o'clock news broadcast- the one that was just scheduled today. I'm one of the main speakers."
Another employee spoke in rapid Japanese to the unusually tall Asian woman before she shushed them and replied. "Your name, miss?" Apparently you lost the "ma'am" when you appeared under eighteen or created puddles on their floor- or possibly a combination of both.
"Richardson Leah," Scarlett replied steadily in the customary Japanese fashion.
The lady frowned. "It appears that the guest speaker scheduled is a Matsui-san, not a Leah-san."
"Could you check again, please? I'm sure it's there." Being worse than hopeless with anything electric, Scarlett had asked a favour of her own SIS co-workers after she had tried and failed many times herself. Once the Sakura booking system had been easily hacked by the professionals, it now displayed her own code name in the place of Matsuda's.
"Oh yes, it's here. Sorry for the mistake. I'll call the director immediately- please wait a few minutes."
She had been speaking slowly for Scarlett's sake, noticing at once that she was a foreigner. The minute she started talking into the handheld device, though, the agent found that she could no longer understand every word- far from it, actually. She made out the word "towel" and raised her eyebrows suspiciously.
The director of Sakura TV arrived only moments later. A big man carrying a baseball jacket and a tangible air of excitement, he immediately shook her hand and relieved her of her jacket, grimacing distastefully at the leather's dampness.
"Oh, um-" he hurriedly consulted a card the secretary had handed him- "Leah Richardson-san, we have been very much awaiting your arrival! Now, there are a few things we need to go over before we can start. Script, props, security, the works." He switched to a whisper, although it was just as loud as his booming voice. "Are you really sure that you're prepared to do this, Leah-san? It's amazingly courageous to do so, miss."
To the contrary, it seemed as though the director would seriously consider disembowelling her with the sharp end of a camera (if there was one) if she refused. There was no need to worry, though.
"Of course," Scarlett breathed, excitement rivalling the director's shining in her colour contact-encased blue eyes as she was led into the elevator and to the filming room a few stories above.
Tense was a word you could use to describe most everyone who inhabited the Kira Task Force building at that moment. Only L appeared unbothered, having complete and utter faith in his plan. Out of the many screens, half displayed the interior of Higuchi's sleek sports car and the other half were fixed to Sakura TV's channel. Scout was bouncing on the couch, earning a few dirty looks from the teen who sat beside her, but she only gave him a tense smile and continued. Director Yagami was pacing across the floor with Mogi, each tap of his foot on the steel floor increasing the pounding of Matsuda's heart. The youngest NPA member himself was crouched on the floor outside the main entrance, reluctant to soil his new tailored suit by sitting. Glancing at his Cartier watch, he braced himself- the program was scheduled to start in under a minute. There was going to be hell to pay when they discovered that the body shape behind the glass was female, and the youngest police officer on Task Force envied the agent- she may be risking her life, but she wouldn't have to face the blowout that he would.
Matsuda strained to hear the conversation when it started, and just barely achieved his goal.
"Oh my gosh, it's on!" Scout breathed. The exclamation was only a whisper- much more potent than a scream.
"Yes, it is," came L's reply, still sounding as calm as ever. Matsuda heard a soft "plunk"- most likely a few more sugar cubes being added to the detective's already sickening coffee.
"There's the interviewer and Matsuda, just as planned..." Light. "But wait-no!"
There was silence, as each Task Force member came to terms with the obvious truth and Matsuda felt himself cringe. He could just make out the faint sounds of the program, providing a needed backdrop, but knew that no one was listening. They were only performing the introductions, and since both voices were synthesized, it was impossible to tell if the tones were male or female. But someone still needed to state the obvious.
Scout's voice rang out, loud in contrast to the deafening silence. "I don't think Matsuda has curves..."
"Scarlett," L hissed, in the same moment that Matsuda flung himself into the room. He was the peacekeeper. It was now his job to make sure everyone stayed exactly where they were at this moment.
"It's all under control!" he yelled as five pairs of eyes immediately flew to rest on him. "I expressed that this mission was going to be dangerous, and Scarlett insisted on taking over!" It was okay to fabricate the story a little, he assumed, so he didn't lose quite as much dignity.
"Matsuda." L fixed him with a stare so intense he swore he could feel its burn. "You directly interfered with my plans, and therefore jeopardized the mission's chance of succeeding. If you had any concerns, they should have been brought straight to me." While he said this with no anger or infliction of any sort marring his flat tone, there was a slight panic held in his dark eyes that only a few caught. This mission is the most crucial one in the Task Force's short history! And Scarlett knew that. What have I done? Matsuda's panicked gazed now mirrored L's, but as he looked back to the detective facing him, crouched on a swivel chair, there was no trace of fear evident on his face. Was I imagining it?
"God, this is bad, but nothing we can't fix! C'mon guys, we gotta get out there and stop that broadcast before-"
"No." It sliced the air and cut off Scout's flow of words more effectively than anything else.
"We can't do anything about it now, and just have to let it play out," Light explained, and it seemed like he was doing an amazing job of emulating L's calm. "Any other movement by us would just jeopardize this mission further. Scarlett's an agent, she should be fine there. Not our first choice, but a perfectly okay one nonetheless." His father nodded with him, and Scout, though worry for her friend still sat in her eyes, didn't say another word.
L bowed his head as well. "Light-kun, that was exactly what I was about to say." While the position of his head was taken as a sign of agreement, it also successfully hid the slight beginnings of expression on his face. It was a movement that went unnoticed, though.
So they were resigned to sitting and watching the action from afar, like a boring movie whose effect on the audience was oddly so intense that it kept them gripping the underside of the seats throughout the film. Matsuda alerted L to the camera Scarlett had installed in Higuchi's living room while relaying the rest of the agent's plan- one that was less intricate, but still deemed functional by the famous detective. Switching the camera feed to the third Kira's house, the Task Force played spectator and watched the events unfold in front of them.
It went exactly as planned. Matsuda smiled as Higuchi was alerted to "Leah Richardson's" presence on TV as the glass screen fell down and immediately went to his own flatscreen while frantically spewing curses under his breath. His attention was consumed by Scarlett as she was interviewed; receiving praise at how brave she was to come forward with this earth-shattering news. Sakura then cut to a commercial break. Movements increasing in speed, Higuchi snatched his cell phone from the coffee table and started dialling, his fingers a blur on the small keypad. He contacted both Takahashi and Shimura before finding the one the Task Force was holding its collateral breath for- the foreigner named Watson. Scout flashed a grin at Matsuda that he returned as they watched Higuchi's call finally connect.
Mr. Watson's actions had been premeditated perfectly. He gave the information to Higuchi at once, and if that action seemed at all out of the ordinary, not one member commented on it. Once off the phone, a spark caught flame in Higuchi's dark eyes that could only be described as insane.
Sputtering into laugher, the deranged businessman ran for his briefcase, eyes never leaving the bright pixels of the television screen. Snatching an object from the dark bag and whipping a ballpoint pen out of his suit jacket, Higuchi threw himself down on the couch and frantically scribbled in the item- a non-descript black notebook.
Matsuda's eyebrows furrowed while Scout murmured, "What the heck?" She was shushed by a wave of Light's hand.
On screen, Higuchi fidgeted. "C'mon, c'mon!" he hissed, wringing his hands while his eyes stayed fixed on the screen. Like whatever was going to happen there was a matter of life and death.
Light was sitting bolt upright on the couch before Matsuda even had time to process the thought. "Ryuzaki, do you possibly think-"
"That the notebook may be Kira's way of killing? Yes, I do. In fact, I am more than 78% sure that it is."
Director Yagami nodded, eyes wide behind his glasses, and Scout whooped in victory. "It's far from over," Light softly told her. "I'd like to get a hold of that notebook, to see it for myself and to get it out of the wrong hands."
L nodded. "We will have Director Yagami, Mogi and Matsuda at the house as soon as possible. We have the proof, we will arrest him now. Be sure to take him by surprise, so there is no chance that he can pass his "powers" onto another individual."
The selected Task Force members were dispatched immediately, and soon the room's population had dwindled to three. The camera feed was still playing, showing a furious Higuchi mopping his brow and crunching the notebook in his fist.
"He didn't know her real name..." Scout breathed, referring to Watson.
"There is only one thing to do," Higuchi stated, his face eerily calm. It was the eye of the storm- he knew that there was nothing he could do to save his life. He was a cornered animal that had been reduced to its most primal instincts: save yourself, kill all others in the way by any means.
His hand held his cell phone before Scout had time to exclaim. Rapidly dialling a number, he rammed the device to his ear and started speaking.
"I need your whole team," he said forcefully, swearing when it took a minute for them to reply. "Yes, I know how many there are. I need this girl brought to me, no matter what the cost. Ten thousand's range? That's fine!" As all eyes widened, he spoke his parting line. "Alive or dead...? It really doesn't matter to me."
"Shit, that's Scarlett!" Scout yelled. She bounced up from the couch, using the force of the springs to land on her feet. "Come on, we gotta-"
L had been facing the screen, back as rigid as a board. As he spun around in his chair with painful slowness, his voice was raspy, as quiet as death.
"Director Yagami's team will deal with it. Stay put."
"But-"
"You heard him, Scout. Don't worry. My dad has this under control."
Unable to sit still, she started pacing the length of the room, shooting a barely disguised glare at the detective's back as he stood up. Walking surely to the elevator, L turned as Light's strained voice reached him.
"Where are you going?"
He fixed his working partner in a stare. "To check something with Watari."
"Almost finished, Leah-san." The Japanese man that sat across from her beamed. "It really is a brilliant plan you've constructed."
Scarlett nodded half-heartedly, averting her eyes to the translucent glass screen and the camera behind it. She felt wrong. A sense of foreboding had settled in the pit of her stomach like a chronic flu bug the instant she had taken a seat in the flimsy folding chair. First attributing it to guilt, the SIS agent now weighed the estimated success rate of her plan. But there was no turning back now- most of the key events concerning Higuchi, the third Kira, should have already transpired. Scarlett saw no reason that her mission should fail.
She woke from her thoughts to find her interviewer waving her over to the side of the filming room. Arriving at his side a moment later, Scarlett observed two trainees adjusting dummies of her interviewer and her in the seats they had so recently vacated. They were perfectly life-like, minus the lack of movement.
"For our safety," he explained, "It is what the detective L instructed us to do."
So they still believed she was working under him. And she was- to an extent.
The cameraman and director were already starting to vacate the building, all other Sakura employees close behind. There had been a tape of their voices recorded earlier to play on TV, she knew, and every person in the building was supposed to be gone by the next commercial break. They were preparing for Higuchi in the event that he stormed in here himself, armed and ready for bloodshed. Scarlett knew better, though. L had positioned Task Force members around the businessman's house with orders to arrest him before he had a chance to set foot outside.
"Come on," her interviewer urged, already waiting at the door. She shook her head, saying that she would join the fleeing employees in a second. He shook his head and sighed, a universal gesture, before exiting the studio.
Scarlett had no intention of leaving. In the event that Higuchi escaped, this was the obvious destination he would make for. And she would be here, armed and able to dispatch one full-grown man in just a few swift moves. It would an action almost as easy to her as breathing. Her fingers found the gun attached to her hip and touched it reassuringly.
The agent would wait here for a few hours, and no longer. She was starting to regret the foolish disposal of her earpiece.
In fifteen minutes of silence, the agent's blank mind started to notice small things. The flicker of camera lights. The creak of the two folding chairs under the dummies' weight. Her eyes alighted on the main computer's screensaver; watching, transfixed, as ocean waves the colour of her eyes undulated across the monitor's high-resolution screen. A creak outside the main studio snapped Scarlett from her trance.
It hit her like a hard, painful slap in the face. She knew at once that she wasn't going to be exiting the studio alive.
Higuchi's silhouette was framed by the doorway, but he was hardly alone. Figures clothed in dark uniforms stood silent around him, a small army of bodyguards that no lone man really needed. And that was why Scarlett was sure they were more than just guards. In each man's hand sat a sleek rifle, which her frozen mind could automatically place as Howa M1500. It was the high-quality firearm that gave it away. These are hit men. Her blood ran cold as she counted twenty men before her concentration snapped. Heart pounding, Scarlett took shaky step back and drew her Beretta with trembling hands. Agent Scarlett's hands had never trembled in her life. But she had never truly looked death in the face, either.
"What luck," Higuchi murmured, grinning. His voice grew louder. "Miss Richardson isn't so smart after all. I'd rather not get blood on my hands, so please try and take her as she is. If she cooperates, which she should. She's only a scared little girl, after all." Higuchi's perverse grin widened, and a sudden surge of adrenaline-sparked anger ran through Scarlett's veins like wildfire. She was the highest-ranking agent of the British Secret Intelligence. She was not going to die.
"I would sooner be killed on the spot than taken alive by the likes of you," she spat. Her gun was cocked and steady, and only a glint of terror in her narrowed eyes gave away the fact that Scarlett truly feared for her life.
"And what happened to your powers, Kira?" she continued. "Shouldn't you be able to kill me on the spot?"
Higuchi's mask of serenity fell away, revealing a face twisted grotesquely by rage. "Insolence and arrogance will be you downfall, Leah-san. Even though I am positive that's not your name, you lying bitch." He glanced to the guards now, who met his eyes with nods and professional silence. "You have full permission to kill her. But please, remove the girl of her gun before she hurts someone with it."
The rage that rose in her now was almost enough to murder someone by. Scarlett swung her gun to parallel Higuchi's face and felt her finger brush the trigger and hesitate- would it really be worth it to take this man's life? And in that moment, every hit man was able to load their rifle and aim a bullet straight at her. They didn't hesitate to shoot.
Scarlett hit the floor hard on pure instinct, feeling one bullet skim her left shoulder. It tore a path through the thin fabric of her shirt, slicing through skin as easily as paper and brushing against the raw tendons of now-exposed muscle.
Wincing at the sharp slap of pain that her exposed wound caused on contact with the metal floor, Scarlett rolled on her back and launched her body upwards with a jerk of her spine. Five hit men met her head-on while the rest stood back with Higuchi, ready to join the fray at a moment's notice. The first's eyes were wide at her recovery, but she knew that he still underestimated her. Scarlett felt her muscles tense as her leg kicked out unprofessionally, and as he dodged, she didn't have a chance to think before planting a bullet in his chest.
The man fell like a marionette with its strings slashed, blood pooling on the floor where he lay. Her mind couldn't reflect on taking a life, for the next hit man was already upon her. This one was prepared. Scarlett swung her left fist at his face, meaning to knock him out as she had practised uncountable times before, but her hand met his gun instead of the intended target behind it. There was something familiar about the sickening crunch her hand made against the weapon. As the limb screamed in protest, Scarlett knew she had fractured her wrist again, this time injuring her hand as well. Clutching her bad hand to her chest, she struck out with her gun hand and leg simultaneously, bringing the man in front of her to his knees. A curse from behind told her she had hit her other target as well- the hit man who had snuck up on her blind side. A well-aimed strike from Scarlett's first opponent brought the SIS agent down as well. She twisted as she fell, using her body's full weight to her advantage as she landed hard on top of him and knocked his rifle away. Scarlett knew she was fighting for her life. And it was a losing battle.
As she managed to land a blow to her opponent's skull, a cold object pressed against her own. Swinging her eyes frantically from the unconscious man underneath her, Scarlett came face-to-face with the other hit man holding a gun to her head. The only things she managed to note before ne loaded the gun and pulled the trigger were Higuchi's maniacal laughter and how her bleached-blonde Californian waves looked horribly wrong against the gun's onyx barrel.
Ohoho! Won't say anything, I think. Next chapter is called "As One." Please be amazing and review~! :)
