X
—Secret Fates—
シークレットオブフェイト
It was a crappy little motel room. The air smelled of mildew and cigarette smoke, coupled with water damage that was poorly masked by painting over it. The bed wasn't that comfortable, creating horrid squeaking sounds the second contact was made. There was a slight odor that came from the itchy sheets, smelling somewhat like mold or expired detergent. But then again, what would one expect from a room that cost $30 a night? You get what you pay for.
This didn't matter to Fiona; she wouldn't be here for another night. She just needed to get cleaned up and she would be on her way. Her first objective was simple—get out of the city. That was going to be the toughest bit. It wouldn't be long before her face was plastered across every news station and paper. But maybe that's wouldn't happen; maybe the Battle Commission wouldn't, or couldn't, resort to that. Technically, she didn't exist; Van, Irvine, Moonbay, Dr. D—all of their records had long vanished, and new ones weren't created to preserve their anonymity. No ID, social security number, bank account, cell phone, P.O. Box—nothing. And, in a way, it provided the perfect cover.
Fiona untied the straps around her waist, removing the tan trench coat she's taken on the way out of the expensive clothing store. It was a last second choice. Walking around the city in a bloody hospital gown would raise plenty of eyebrows. Her conscience kept bothering her, though. She'd never stolen anything before, but it was only store closest to the Commission's HQ building. She hoped that man was okay.
Moving through the city was slow-going after escaped, sticking primarily to back alleys and side streets. Hiding for hours between smelly dumpsters and abandoned backseats of cars was a challenge she never wanted to do again; but she imagined more of that was on the horizon if she wanted to leave the city undetected.
She threw the coat on the bed, recalling how the motel manager regarded her when she arrived. He probably took her for a prostitute, but she didn't care; money was the only thing he was concerned about. A few plastic bags of inexpensive necessities lay on the floor from a 24 hour in and out store she visited. It was full of simple things—socks, underwear, shampoo, t-shirts, sleepwear, toiletries, prepaid cell phone, etc. She felt better about buying the stuff, even though the money itself was stolen. Lastly, she had a small sling pack.
Van.
No, she couldn't think about him now. She couldn't replay in her mind what she said to him, how she shot him, and the shocked expression on his face. It pained her more than anyone could know. She loved him more than anything, but he just didn't understand her plight. No one did. She figured people were saying that she'd lost her mind, running around the city screaming about the apocalypse or something. No, she was more lucid than ever before. But something compelled her to leave, to escape. Some unseen force was pulling at her and she didn't know why.
Fiona abandoned her disquieting thoughts and went into the bathroom. She frowned at its condition, but it could've been worse. There were stains in the grout around the tub/shower combo, nearly folded towels that screamed bacteria, and a sink that had seen better days. Fiona ignored it all and slipped off the gown and underwear. Dried blood had adhered to her skin, creating a nauseating odor. Bruises on her back, mid-section, and legs were still there from her encounter with the soldiers. She'd since healed the damage the rubber bullet inflicted on her ankle, but the purple-red impact zone was still there. There was no pain around it, but bruise would be there for a while.
It wasn't long before the stream of surprisingly hot water cascaded down her body from the shower. The water pressure was strong, soothing. She could smell the impurities in it. A handful of shampoo was squeezed atop her head. She massaged her scalp before cleaning the rest of her lengthy main. Her body was next. After a sufficient lather, she scrubbed herself raw. The drainage water turned pink from the blood. Satisfied, she washed the shampoo from her hair before allowing the water soak deep within her scalp. She relished in it, letting the water run over her face and neck. It was a modest paradise.
Fiona exited the shower, dried off, applied deodorant, and brushed her teeth. It was amazing how simple hygiene made you feel like a brand new person. She hurried and got dressed, putting on the clothes she'd taken from Dior.
"Fiona…"
Her hand retracted from picking up the jacket on the bed. She knew she wasn't crazy, but she was certain she just heard her name. It wasn't a voice she recognized. It was a gentle whisper, like one carried on a soft breeze. Fiona shook her head, blaming it on a lack of sleep. She had been under tremendous stress, waking up from a comatose state that she had a hard time recalling. What she could remember was a consistent dream she kept having. She was walking in a vast open area… maybe a desert. Where exactly she was a going continued to escape her. But she kept walking, alone and…
"Fiona…"
Fiona spun around. "Hello?" She went into the bathroom and checked behind the shower curtain. Nothing. Went to the front door and looked through the peephole. Also nothing. She was alone, isolated. Had she said her own name subconsciously and didn't realize it? No, she wasn't crazy! It was all the more reason to get out of the city. Maybe then she would think more clearly.
She finished getting dressed and discarded her bloody hospital gown. Stuffing the supplies in her pack, she slipped the sling strap across her torso, tucked the gun in the small of her back, and walked out.
Thomas had to have been standing outside of Van's door for the past several minutes. He'd mentally rehearsed what he was going to say, even though he kept revising the script every few words. He didn't want to say the wrong thing, but what could he possibly say that would worsen the situation? With caution dismissed, he knocked.
The door creaked open, unlocked. Thomas eased inside, grimacing inwardly. Van was staring out the window that didn't exactly deliver a spectacular view. It only gave an abbreviated view of the mountains before the skyscrapers blocked them off, but Thomas wouldn't add to his misery. He knocked softly on the door to announce his presence, unprepared for whatever reaction Van may present.
Zeke was the first to notice him, staring at him blankly before looking away.
Van turned, saw Thomas, and returned to peer out into the city. "I'm sorry I lost my cool earlier. It wasn't directed at any of you."
"You were upset." Thomas closed the door behind him. "Your reaction was justified."
Van only grunted.
Thomas exhaled. He was terrible at comforting people, but he realized Van wasn't the type of person that needed that. Give him the details, the pros, cons, and he was set. He didn't need anything else. "I've decided the join the Division."
Van broke his stare, glancing down at the floor before he eyed Thomas.
"Now before you worship me, I'm only doing this for the safety of Ms. Fiona. Not to mention I don't have anything else to do." The younger Schubaltz looked around the room, turning on his heels as he did so. "This may not be the Guardian Force, but I can get used to it. You won't get far without me anyway."
Van allowed an acute smirk and scratched his head with an eye closed. "Are you sure you're up for this? We don't know what might happen."
Thomas made a cavalier sound. "Please. Save that for someone who hasn't been in the trenches with you. We'll have Ms. Fiona back before you know it. Just let me know where to start looking."
Van folded his arms and began chewing on his lower lip. He and Fiona had spent much time in New Helic City, so he was positive she knew how to get around. But where could she be possibly going? She neither said nor gave any indication. For all he knew, she could've been hitchhiking clear across the continent. He didn't know where to begin, but he knew someone who might. The thought struck him like a punch in the gut.
"I need to find Xavier."
Dr. D watched the cleanup crew diligently rectify the wing that Fiona violently rearranged. They swept up the glass, washed away the bloodstains, and collected the damaged equipment to remove. He kept replaying in his mind the viewing screen that monitored Fiona's brain activity. For months there were random jumps that occurred, and her body would occasionally twitch. Dr. D didn't think too much of it, chalking it up her nervous system. But it wasn't. He was wrong. It was Fiona trying to get out. She was a bomb ready to explode, and Dr. D kicked himself for not foreseeing it. He tried to rationalize with himself, that no one could've predicted this. No, it was possible. Taking into account the incredible stress and pressure Fiona was under, something was bound to happen.
"Man, this is a mess," Xavier sighed.
Dr. D refocused; he didn't even realize Xavier was standing next to him the entire time. "Yes, I can agree."
"The Chairman wants an update every hour on the situation." Xavier rocked back on forth on his heels. "I don't know what to tell him. She's still out there."
"Speaking of such, where are we on that? Have you scrambled a task force yet?" Dr. D curiously asked.
"I have my people on it. We have a briefing scheduled in a few hours. Van is our centerpiece for this, so it's imperative that he's involved."
Dr. D got the feeling that wasn't a simple statement. In essence, he figured Xavier was telling him to get Van's emotions straight. Time was running out, and they didn't have time to wait for him to get his act together. He was either in or out. "You can count on Van. I know him."
The words were barely out of Dr. D mouth before Van marched into the wing with Zeke and Thomas trailing him. Xavier marked the determination in his walk, in his face. Was this the Van Flyheight he'd witnessed a year ago, or was it just some façade? He would withhold his judgment until he listened to what he had to say.
"I need to speak to Dr. Laon," Van stated.
The words went directly over Xavier's head. He was positive Van spoke, but what he said had yet to register in his mind. It had something to do with Dr. Laon, but that was a name that was used very carefully nowadays.
Xavier scratched the small growth on his chin with raised eyebrows as his eyes examined Van. "I'm sorry, what now?"
"Dr. Laon," Van clarified. "I need to speak with him."
"And why do you feel you need to talk to him?" Xavier asked next.
Van thought the answer was obvious, but he explained anyway. "Because he's the one that made Fiona this way. He experimented on her, held her captive. If there is anyone that can give us some insight, it's him."
"I disagree," the Chief replied sharply. "We can understand what's going on in Fiona's head after she's back inside this building. That's a request I just can't grant, Van. It's out of the question."
"And why is that? Laon may know something that we're missing. Who knows what he did to unleash what Fiona was holding back for centuries! Look, just give me twenty minutes with him. You can supervise me all you want, but I have to talk to him."
"Forget it." Xavier wouldn't budge. "Even if I wanted to, I can't make that decision alone. Something like that requires a joint meeting with our Intelligence Division and the Chairman. We don't have any time for that. I'm not saying it's a terrible idea, but we have a briefing in a few hours that I need your head straight for."
"What's that supposed to mean? My head has been in this since day one."
"Not lately," Xavier pointed out. "I understand that Fiona means more to you than I can comprehend, but we need you in order to get this ball rolling. If you're too emotionally compromised, it can cloud your judgment. I need to at 100%, nothing less."
Van grew silent, and it seemed the entire wing followed suit. He looked at the people around him—Dr. D, Thomas, Xavier, Zeke. "Is that what everyone's been thinking, that I'm too unstable to handle this?"
"Whoa, let's dial it back," Dr. D held his hands up. "No one is saying that, Van. We're all hurting, just the same as you are."
"I just need to know, if push came to shove, that you'll be able to make a solid decision regarding Fiona," Xavier placed before Van.
Van stared at the Chief like he'd been asked a difficult question. "Are you asking me whether or not I'll allow you to kill Fiona if it came down to it?"
"I wouldn't use those exact words, but if she threatens a major population center again—of which I hope not—I have to know if you'll be an asset or a liability."
The Chief's words gave Van pause. He made a humorless laugh, trying to wrap his mind around it. "All due respect, it seems like you've already made your decision about her."
Dr. D shot a discreet glance at Thomas, and the younger Schubaltz could only concur with the building tension. The fuse had been lit; and it was only a matter of how long that fuse was.
"I'm not going to lie, Van," Xavier opened up. "Fiona scares the hell outta me, and it's that fear that's not going to allow me to watch her endanger millions. Too many have died already. Now, I won't jump to conclusions. There's a possibility that she's not looking to harm anyone, but I can't take that risk of being lackadaisical about it. We owe all of you a great deal of gratitude for what you've done, but that doesn't supersede what we've worked so hard to rebuild… what we're still building. That's why we need you, Van. We need someone that can talk her down so we can resolve this peacefully."
"You're acting like she's planning a massacre or something." Van took a breath to keep his cool. It was obvious what everyone in the Battle Commission thought, but to hear it was disconcerting. "It's all the more reason to involve Dr. Laon. He has to know more."
Xavier shook his head. "You're reaching."
"Am I? Dr. Laon was able to break Fiona, changing her into… this. You think he doesn't have any information about we can reverse this?"
"I'm not taking sides on this, Mr. Defense Chief, but Van has a point," Dr. D crept in. "His work, coupled with Ambient's influence, played a vital role in her subsequent actions. Laon set something off inside of her, so maybe he knows how to fix it."
Xavier grumbled loudly and sucked his teeth. Now Dr. D had jumped on the bandwagon, and there was no way to dissuading a determined man like him. While it was obvious they were clearing the air, Xavier couldn't bring himself to say that he just didn't trust Van on this idea. Dr. Laon had caused him much pain. Only God knew what would happen if Van was in a room alone with him. Xavier was stuck.
"I'm late for my update with the Chairman," Xavier ultimately deflected. He started for the exit. "Just be ready for the briefing at sixteen hundred, and I need all of you present. Don't be late."
He walked out.
It was a very disturbing thing to watch—burning buildings, civilians scrambling, dead bodies, Zoids fighting in the middle of the street. No, the Chairman didn't enjoy watching playback from the Capital City attack, but it was a necessary thing. When any crime is committed, the scene had to be analyzed, documented, viewed again, and so on. It was a repeated process that got tiresome quickly. There was only so much the Chairman could watch before he had to take a break.
He pushed on for a few more minutes, killing time until the Chief of Defense gave him an update. It bothered the Chairman that the Backdraft both outsmarted and nearly brought them to ruin in a single day. They were planned a devastating attack right under their noses and they didn't even know it. The Chairman, after the incident was over, pondered resigning from his position to retire. No one would've blamed him. He'd been the acting chairman of the Zoids Battle Commission for nearly two decades, but he wouldn't be dethroned just yet. He wanted—needed—to finish his campaign against the Backdraft, silencing them for good. It wasn't for prestige or the notion of "going out on top"; no, it was simply about the welfare and safety of the citizens of Zi.
The Chairman combed his fingers through his gray hair and watched one of the six monitors behind his desk. He slowly shook his head, scrutinizing the Blitz Team's Shadow Fox battle several of the Backdraft's drone-operated Zoids in the middle of downtown before a stray round took out the city's cameras.
"Sir," the intercom suddenly blarred, "the Chief of Defense is waiting outside your office."
The Chairman's forehead wrinkled. Xavier was here? Odd. He usually reported in via VIDCOM. Why personally see him? "Send him in."
The solid, polished oak doors opened and Xavier walked in. His was face was riddled with concern, causing his eyes to bounce everywhere until he reached the Chairman. Xavier saluted him. "Sir!"
The Chairman returned the gesture. "Andrew. Please, have a seat."
"I'd rather stand, sir," Xavier declined.
"Suit yourself." The Chairman sat down, rested his arms on the desk. "Peculiar to see you in the flesh. Have there been any new developments with the Zoidian girl?"
"In part," Xavier shakily said. "We still don't have a lock on her location, but we're positive she's still in the city. We have local authorities in place to setup checkpoints throughout the city—all exits. Do you think it's time to release her photo to the media? Police have a general description, but maybe it's time to get the general public involved."
"Not at this time, no," the Chairman answered quickly. "I read your report, Andrew. She is a very volatile target, prone to immense violence. I don't civilians getting hurt trying to play hero. People are scared enough as it is. Let's keep this strictly between approved personnel."
Xavier nodded, his face still overly concerned. "Understand, sir."
The Chairman noticed this. He understood this was a stressful situation for the young Chief of Defense, but he wouldn't have given Xavier such a weighty title if he knew he couldn't handle it. There was more on his mind than he was verbally telling.
"Y'know, Andrew, we rarely conduct these updates face-to-face. Is there another reason why you're personally here?"
Xavier looked up at the vaulted ceiling with his eyes closed, drawing in a deep breath before exhaling. "I need to run something by you." He opened his eyes, wearing a face of aggravation. "It's about Van. He wants to speak to Dr. Laon… personally. He believes that Laon knows the secret to Fiona's transformation, that he can give us insight on how to bring her back to her senses. I told him it was a bad idea, but I wanted to know what you thought about it."
The Chairman smirked lightly to himself. "You mean you wanted to me to deny Van's request, ultimately taking yourself out of the decision making?"
Xavier doubled back, rambling. "Uh, well, sir… I…"
"No, it's perfectly fine," the Chairman laughed. He stood up and walked around to the front of his desk, sitting on the edge in front of Xavier. "I understand where you're coming from; but getting back to the matter at hand, I don't think that's an awful idea. It makes sense, really."
Xavier winced. It was a longshot the Chairman would agree with him.
"But from what I've learned, the relationship between Van and Fiona is powerfully close, which makes this a serious conflict of interest. Laon has caused him a great deal of pain, but I'm also confident in Van's ability to keep his emotions under control. I'm sure you don't believe that, Andrew, but give the man credit where credit is due. It's possible that Dr. Laon can help us. He possessed the Zoidian girl for some time, and from what I've heard, she wouldn't harm a butterfly. That means that he must've done something. Why not figure out what?"
"But why would he help us?" Xavier expressed. "Sure, he's given us all we need to bury any Backdraft affiliates we dig up, but why go beyond that? Fiona was his ace in the hole. You think he wants us to help her? No, he'll probably laugh himself into a coma if we tell what's happened. This man loves misery because he's miserable, and it'll tickle him pink that we've lost control of a weapon like Fiona that he unleashed."
"Contact Intelligence Officer Epps," the Chairman stated calmly amidst Xavier's outburst. "He's in charge of Dr. Laon's case. I want him to set up another debriefing with Van consulting…"
Xavier's mouth dropped open. "But, sir—"
"I heard everything said, Andrew," the Chairman interjected, "and I'm not totally disagreeing with you. You made a very strong argument, which could turn out to be correct; but Van has given us a lead. We need to see where this goes."
Xavier fought hard to hold his tongue as he was trifling with insubordination. He buttoned his temper.
"We have to try, Andrew," the Chairman reminded him. "It's ignoring the small things that cause the greatest failures. History is full of them. Let's not add anymore failures to our list."
"Alright," Xavier reluctantly agreed. "I'll notify Epps, get this moving."
"Then we're in sync." The Chairman returned to his chair, turning it slightly to face the paused monitors. "I'll see you in a few hours at the briefing."
Xavier turned to leave, but ended up stopping hallway. He turned around, his fingers anxiously moving. "Sir, there's something else."
The Chairman swiveled his chair around. "And what is that?"
"It's about Fiona. If it comes down to it, we will have to kill her?"
The Chairman ran his hand around his trimmed beard, thinking it over. Frankly, it wasn't a question that surfaced in his mind that often. He thought about, yes, but he quickly dismissed it because of his confidence in Van Flyheight. But what if Van failed? Then what? Van and his friends would never forgive them, but more was at stake than their personal feelings.
"That's a sensitive question, Andrew, but we both know the answer is simple. I want us to do everything in our power to make sure that decision doesn't have to be made… but, we have to be realistic. In the event the Zoidian girl loses control, it may be necessary to neutralize her. If that occurs, I'll be the one to make that call. No one else. But as of right now, this is strictly a search and capture operation. It's ultimately up to Fiona. She holds her own fate."
Xavier winced again. "I don't think Van would like to hear that."
The Chairman stared at Xavier. "Van doesn't need to know. Unless proven otherwise, he still needs to believe that he can save her. This is between us, Andrew. Understand?"
"I understand, sir," nodded the Chief of Defense.
The Chairman resumed watching the monitors. "Then we're done."
Author Note: Finally, an update. Job has had me tied down, but able to get a chapter in. Disappointed that there hasn't been any reviews for the past few chapters, but I understand that this story takes a little while to kick up. Plz be patient. You guys are my motivation to keep writing, so tell me what you think.
-NeoAurora