Yami Bakura narrowed his eyes, unintimidated by these actions. "Do you have any idea who I am, fool?" he grunted.
"No, but I know what you are—dead." The attacker sneered, ready to press the trigger.
Yami Bakura instantly kicked backward and sent the person sprawling. "Well . . . you're right there," the old thief laughed. "I am dead. And I have been for about five thousand years."
"What?! Are you nuts?!" The hitman glared up at Yami Bakura in disbelief. "Great. Of all the people to knock off, mine is a fruitcake."
Yami Bakura hauled him to his feet before he could think to shoot off his gun. "Perhaps. But I am a very dangerous 'fruitcake.' Are you truly certain you wish to incur my wrath?" He smirked in his trademark fashion, drawing a gasp from his captive.
"Uh, no. No, I don't think so. Dangerous fruitcakes . . . they . . . they're among the people I fear most!" The person struggled, trying to get free.
Yami Bakura was enjoying this immensely. "Then tell me, mortal—who are you working for? Who hired you and why?" He held him tightly by his shirt and raised him to his eye level.
"Officer Milton!" The hitman by now had dropped his gun and was worrying about staying alive. He definitely didn't like the psycho grin his captor was giving him now.
"Officer Milton from the police department?" Yami Bakura narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "Why?"
"Because he thought you . . . you might've been the leak! And you were eavesdroppin' on Frances! I know you were tryin' to!"
"'The leak'?" Yami Bakura repeated. "Do I look like a stray dribble of water?" He growled. "Enough of this nonsense. They think I am the leak for what?"
"The . . . the . . ." Before anything could be revealed, the man's eyes went wide and he slumped over.
Yami Bakura could faintly make out a shadow darting off several yards away. Carefully he picked a dart out of the man's neck and then looked up again, but the shadow was gone. The thief cursed, his long silvery hair being tussled as the wind whipped by. So again there were corrupt officers on the police force? Obviously it wasn't something legitimate.
****
Seto awoke slowly, wondering where the extreme headache had come from. As he blinked, taking in the dark surroundings and the soft bed he felt that he was on, the memory of the car crash came back to him. He and Téa had been going to call the Ishtars to make certain that Marik had arrived back safely when the chauffeur had swerved wildly on the ice, taking them off the road. After that things were a blank. But it was plain to see that he wasn't in the limo any more. So . . .
"Kaiba?!"
Seto looked up at Téa's hopeful voice as the girl bent over him from where she was standing beside the bed. "What."
Téa sighed and glanced at the door across the room. "Are you alright?" she asked, speaking more to the door than to him.
"Fine," Seto answered shortly. "Where are we?"
"That's what I'm still trying to figure out," Téa retorted. "We don't seem to be tied up or chained. . . ."
The door creaked open and a silhouetted figure stood there. "Ah, and how are our guests doing?" The voice was filled with an amused, almost mocking tone.
Seto didn't answer. Instead he marched right up next to the person and glared. "What's going on here?!" he demanded.
"Oh . . . my gracious boss found the site of your unfortunate accident and had you both brought here to recover." The light was flicked on and the unfamiliar man grinned. "Such a kind soul, don't you think?"
Téa stared at their surroundings. They seemed to be in an immaculate bedroom. When she had woken up, she had discovered that she and Seto had each been laid on one of the beds in the room, but she hadn't realized things were so extremely ritzy.
"Kind soul, my foot!" Seto snarled. "This happens to be a cabin *I* own! How did he get the key?!"
"Oh . . . he has his little ways," was the smirking reply. "Perhaps he . . . obtained it from someone in your home?"
"There's no way!" Seto snarled.
Téa had to wonder if Mokuba had had the key when he had been abducted for some odd reason, but she didn't voice that thought. And Seto apparently didn't think Mokuba would have had it.
"Oh, you might be surprised," the strange man replied.
The odd tone of voice finally made Seto snap completely. Grabbing the man, he pinned him up against the wall. "Tell me!" he hissed.
"Weren't you ever taught to keep your temper in check?"
Seto could hardly stand it. This person was reminding him so much of the Witty Phantom from the first Virtual Reality game that it was unnerving. Téa, who hadn't met the creature, didn't and couldn't understand.
****
Once Solomon had finished tending to Duke's injuries the best he could, he picked up the phone once again, hoping against hope to find a dial tone. But yet there remained silence.
Duke was silent as well. He hadn't stirred since collapsing on the floor in the shop. Solomon was growing very worried. What if the boy had slipped into an irreversible coma? And . . . what if it had something to do with the cocaine pouch?
He couldn't know how right he was, but the truth was much different than anything he was imagining.
Now Duke moaned, starting to shift his position almost frantically.
Solomon laid his hands on the teenager's shoulders. "Lay still!" he ordered, but in vain. Duke struggled, throwing his hands away.
"I'm not who you think I am!" he screamed, obviously in delirium. "I wouldn't try to help people continue in a habit that's so demeaning!"
Solomon blinked at that. Was Duke talking about drug dealing?
"No . . . I'm not a criminal. I'm not!!" Duke yelled, his emerald eyes flying open but remaining sightless to all going on in the real world. "Don't take me to prison!! PLEASE!!"
"No one is taking you to prison, Duke! Calm down!!" Though Solomon was trying his best to comfort the obviously tormented boy, he knew he wasn't having much luck and that he wouldn't as long as Duke continued to remain in this delirious state. But he didn't know what to do other than pray, so pray he did.
****
Ishizu sat and listened carefully as Marik told the tale behind some of what had been going on. She knew that, whatever it was, it would be hard for her brother to relay.
"Duke Devlin came to me recently with a strange story of how he was infiltrating a drug ring," Marik said quietly, taking Rishid's hand as his older brother twitched suddenly. "He said he had gotten involved because one of his employees had been trying to pass drugs right in the shop. I was intrigued, of course, but I didn't know why he had come to me, of all people. We don't even really know each other that well. But then he explained exactly why he had. He said that . . ." Marik trailed off, gathering his strength to finish telling what he had started. "That the ex-Rare Hunters were in the ring. He wanted me to tell him more about them, but . . . I wasn't satisfied with only doing that. I know how deadly they are. I didn't want anyone else I know to be exposed to their wrath and their hatred."
Ishizu laid her hand on his shoulder. She couldn't help being proud of Marik for his bravery, but she wondered how on earth he and Duke could have thought they could take down the ring all by themselves.
"The police know," Marik said, voicing the answer to Ishizu's unspoken question. "Specifically, Gabrielle Valesquez knows." He sighed heavily. "Unfortunately . . . there is another angle here that I haven't mentioned."
"And what is that, my brother?" Ishizu asked softly.
"Duke has information on people from every city in the county who are in the ring," Marik replied, his lavender eyes narrowing with rage at the activities. "Including many police officers and others who are supposed to be noble and upright citizens. I don't know whether word of Duke's files has leaked out to the corrupt officers, but someone broke into his shop the day before Thanksgiving and hit him over the head. He believes they were looking for the files, but were scared away. That same day was when I got that first death threat."
Rishid stirred again, now grasping Marik's hand as tightly as he could. Marik smiled brightly, his mood changing from dark to happy in a matter of seconds.
Ishizu smiled as well as she watched, but uneasiness burned deep in her heart. It was unbelievable, the danger these poor souls had gotten into. And all because they wanted so desperately to bring an unrighteous practice to a halt!
"I didn't tell you or Rishid," Marik said barely above a whisper, "because I was so afraid that you would get in trouble for your knowledge if somehow either of you were taken prisoner."
"I understand, dear brother," Ishizu said softly, "and I know Rishid does as well."
Marik smiled reminiscently. "Yes . . . he does," he agreed as images from the dream returned to him.
Rishid awoke then, his golden eyes tender and kind. Slowly he pulled himself into a sitting position and embraced Marik and then Ishizu as they joyously dove into his arms.
****
Meanwhile, Joey and the others were not having any luck in the slightest finding the others.
"It's like they've just disappeared off the face of the earth!" Tristan remarked.
"We're gonna find them!" Joey retorted.
Bakura shivered. Joey's car was not warm in the least. In fact, the thing barely ran. The British boy found it a miracle that it hadn't stalled in the snow as of yet. He wanted desperately to find his father and make certain that he was alright, but he knew that Seto and Téa were in more immediate danger. Besides, Yami Bakura would protect Bakura's father . . . wouldn't he? Honestly, Bakura never knew what that old tomb robber would do.
"Hey!" Yugi exclaimed. "That isn't Mr. Thorton up there, is it?!"
Instantly everyone turned to look. Indeed, stumbling through the snow and looking very nigh to panicking was Mr. Burt Thorton.
"Somethin's up with him," Joey commented as he pulled the car over to the curb.
"Mr. Thorton!" Yugi called, leaning out the window. "Do you need a ride?"
The excitable man looked up, seeming almost horrified at being seen. "A . . . a ride?" he fumbled. "Oh . . . oh no. . . . I . . . I just need to find someone . . ."
"Well, we need to find someone too," Tristan put in. "A couple of them. Why don't you come along?"
"I . . . I really couldn't," Mr. Thorton protested, twisting his tie into knots.
"There's enough room," Bakura spoke up.
"It . . . it's not that," Mr. Thorton said hurriedly.
"Then what the heck *is* it?!" Joey demanded irritably.
"People will die if I tell!" was the shocking answer.
"They'll most likely die if you don't tell," Yami Yugi said, appearing without warning.
Mr. Thorton gulped. "I . . . I really can't talk about it . . . no . . ."
"Oh, just get in the car!" Joey yelled, throwing the door open and trying to pull him in.
"You can't force him, Joey," Yugi said sternly. "Even if he does know something that we may need to know."
Joey growled low. "Man, if he does know anything about where Kaiba and Téa are, he'd better tell us."
"They're missing?!" Mr. Thorton yelped. "I knew they shouldn't have been prying around. I just KNEW it!! Now he has them in his grip and he won't ever let them go!"
"Who won't?!" Bakura gasped.
Mr. Thorton suddenly realized he'd said something he would have preferred not saying. With a groan he slumped down into the seat and fumbled with a piece of an orange peel. "Stallone. Antonio Stallone."
"Eh?" Joey raised an eyebrow.
"Never heard of the dude," Tristan declared.
"Good!" Mr. Thorton cried. "Then pretend you didn't hear his name just now!"
Yugi closed his eyes in frustration. He could see this wasn't going to be easy at all.
****
Mokuba ventured to the window slowly and looked out at the heavy snow. Idly he wondered where Seto was. He thought he had heard him go out the door some time ago. But he didn't leave the shelter of his room to go ask Velma or Anna where his brother was. Probably at the office. Seto always went there when he was frustrated and upset about something. And Mokuba knew Seto was frustrated and upset tonight.
As he himself was.
It's like we're not communicating on the same wavelength anymore. No . . . it's more like we're not communicating at all! Mokuba struggled with all of the conflicting thoughts flying through his mind.
But maybe . . . maybe that's my own fault. For wanting to grow up and help. But shouldn't I want to help?! I don't want to be some kind of weak coward!
Tears came to Mokuba's eyes as the memories again came over him. I hurt Seto and Marik. I've hurt them so bad! It would be better for them both if they didn't have to worry about me.
"Is that truly what you believe?"
Mokuba whirled, coming face to face with the veiled man.
"How did you get in?!" the boy demanded defensively.
"I have my ways," was the reply. "Young Mokuba, if all of this bothers you so very much, you should speak with your brother and your friend about it all."
"I don't have to take advice from you," Mokuba retorted, crossing his arms angrily. "And . . . I probably don't still have a brother or a friend."
Shadi walked over to the broken locket and picked it up. "Ah, but that is where you are mistaken. Yes, you have wounded them both—but you can be forgiven for your actions. They can and will forgive you because they both care for you very dearly, and that has not changed. Your relationships with them both can be mended, just as this locket—which is a symbol of your closeness with your brother—can be mended." He handed both pieces to Mokuba, who stared at them with tear-filled eyes.
"But . . ." Mokuba looked up to say more, but the stranger had left. Slumping onto the bed, he continued to gaze at the picture inside the locket. He remembered how Seto had always been there for him. How he had always tried to do everything he could so that Mokuba would be happy.
"Nothing matters, except my little brother."
Mokuba could hear Seto say that as clearly as if he were right in the room. And then the tears flowed again.
"I'm so sorry, Seto," the little boy whispered. "I'm so sorry for everything! I don't know how I can ever make things up to you and Marik! . . ."
Again he went to the window, staring gloomily outside. He wondered if Seto was watching the snow from wherever he was.
Suddenly an arm broke through the glass and grabbed Mokuba by the leg!
"No, but I know what you are—dead." The attacker sneered, ready to press the trigger.
Yami Bakura instantly kicked backward and sent the person sprawling. "Well . . . you're right there," the old thief laughed. "I am dead. And I have been for about five thousand years."
"What?! Are you nuts?!" The hitman glared up at Yami Bakura in disbelief. "Great. Of all the people to knock off, mine is a fruitcake."
Yami Bakura hauled him to his feet before he could think to shoot off his gun. "Perhaps. But I am a very dangerous 'fruitcake.' Are you truly certain you wish to incur my wrath?" He smirked in his trademark fashion, drawing a gasp from his captive.
"Uh, no. No, I don't think so. Dangerous fruitcakes . . . they . . . they're among the people I fear most!" The person struggled, trying to get free.
Yami Bakura was enjoying this immensely. "Then tell me, mortal—who are you working for? Who hired you and why?" He held him tightly by his shirt and raised him to his eye level.
"Officer Milton!" The hitman by now had dropped his gun and was worrying about staying alive. He definitely didn't like the psycho grin his captor was giving him now.
"Officer Milton from the police department?" Yami Bakura narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "Why?"
"Because he thought you . . . you might've been the leak! And you were eavesdroppin' on Frances! I know you were tryin' to!"
"'The leak'?" Yami Bakura repeated. "Do I look like a stray dribble of water?" He growled. "Enough of this nonsense. They think I am the leak for what?"
"The . . . the . . ." Before anything could be revealed, the man's eyes went wide and he slumped over.
Yami Bakura could faintly make out a shadow darting off several yards away. Carefully he picked a dart out of the man's neck and then looked up again, but the shadow was gone. The thief cursed, his long silvery hair being tussled as the wind whipped by. So again there were corrupt officers on the police force? Obviously it wasn't something legitimate.
****
Seto awoke slowly, wondering where the extreme headache had come from. As he blinked, taking in the dark surroundings and the soft bed he felt that he was on, the memory of the car crash came back to him. He and Téa had been going to call the Ishtars to make certain that Marik had arrived back safely when the chauffeur had swerved wildly on the ice, taking them off the road. After that things were a blank. But it was plain to see that he wasn't in the limo any more. So . . .
"Kaiba?!"
Seto looked up at Téa's hopeful voice as the girl bent over him from where she was standing beside the bed. "What."
Téa sighed and glanced at the door across the room. "Are you alright?" she asked, speaking more to the door than to him.
"Fine," Seto answered shortly. "Where are we?"
"That's what I'm still trying to figure out," Téa retorted. "We don't seem to be tied up or chained. . . ."
The door creaked open and a silhouetted figure stood there. "Ah, and how are our guests doing?" The voice was filled with an amused, almost mocking tone.
Seto didn't answer. Instead he marched right up next to the person and glared. "What's going on here?!" he demanded.
"Oh . . . my gracious boss found the site of your unfortunate accident and had you both brought here to recover." The light was flicked on and the unfamiliar man grinned. "Such a kind soul, don't you think?"
Téa stared at their surroundings. They seemed to be in an immaculate bedroom. When she had woken up, she had discovered that she and Seto had each been laid on one of the beds in the room, but she hadn't realized things were so extremely ritzy.
"Kind soul, my foot!" Seto snarled. "This happens to be a cabin *I* own! How did he get the key?!"
"Oh . . . he has his little ways," was the smirking reply. "Perhaps he . . . obtained it from someone in your home?"
"There's no way!" Seto snarled.
Téa had to wonder if Mokuba had had the key when he had been abducted for some odd reason, but she didn't voice that thought. And Seto apparently didn't think Mokuba would have had it.
"Oh, you might be surprised," the strange man replied.
The odd tone of voice finally made Seto snap completely. Grabbing the man, he pinned him up against the wall. "Tell me!" he hissed.
"Weren't you ever taught to keep your temper in check?"
Seto could hardly stand it. This person was reminding him so much of the Witty Phantom from the first Virtual Reality game that it was unnerving. Téa, who hadn't met the creature, didn't and couldn't understand.
****
Once Solomon had finished tending to Duke's injuries the best he could, he picked up the phone once again, hoping against hope to find a dial tone. But yet there remained silence.
Duke was silent as well. He hadn't stirred since collapsing on the floor in the shop. Solomon was growing very worried. What if the boy had slipped into an irreversible coma? And . . . what if it had something to do with the cocaine pouch?
He couldn't know how right he was, but the truth was much different than anything he was imagining.
Now Duke moaned, starting to shift his position almost frantically.
Solomon laid his hands on the teenager's shoulders. "Lay still!" he ordered, but in vain. Duke struggled, throwing his hands away.
"I'm not who you think I am!" he screamed, obviously in delirium. "I wouldn't try to help people continue in a habit that's so demeaning!"
Solomon blinked at that. Was Duke talking about drug dealing?
"No . . . I'm not a criminal. I'm not!!" Duke yelled, his emerald eyes flying open but remaining sightless to all going on in the real world. "Don't take me to prison!! PLEASE!!"
"No one is taking you to prison, Duke! Calm down!!" Though Solomon was trying his best to comfort the obviously tormented boy, he knew he wasn't having much luck and that he wouldn't as long as Duke continued to remain in this delirious state. But he didn't know what to do other than pray, so pray he did.
****
Ishizu sat and listened carefully as Marik told the tale behind some of what had been going on. She knew that, whatever it was, it would be hard for her brother to relay.
"Duke Devlin came to me recently with a strange story of how he was infiltrating a drug ring," Marik said quietly, taking Rishid's hand as his older brother twitched suddenly. "He said he had gotten involved because one of his employees had been trying to pass drugs right in the shop. I was intrigued, of course, but I didn't know why he had come to me, of all people. We don't even really know each other that well. But then he explained exactly why he had. He said that . . ." Marik trailed off, gathering his strength to finish telling what he had started. "That the ex-Rare Hunters were in the ring. He wanted me to tell him more about them, but . . . I wasn't satisfied with only doing that. I know how deadly they are. I didn't want anyone else I know to be exposed to their wrath and their hatred."
Ishizu laid her hand on his shoulder. She couldn't help being proud of Marik for his bravery, but she wondered how on earth he and Duke could have thought they could take down the ring all by themselves.
"The police know," Marik said, voicing the answer to Ishizu's unspoken question. "Specifically, Gabrielle Valesquez knows." He sighed heavily. "Unfortunately . . . there is another angle here that I haven't mentioned."
"And what is that, my brother?" Ishizu asked softly.
"Duke has information on people from every city in the county who are in the ring," Marik replied, his lavender eyes narrowing with rage at the activities. "Including many police officers and others who are supposed to be noble and upright citizens. I don't know whether word of Duke's files has leaked out to the corrupt officers, but someone broke into his shop the day before Thanksgiving and hit him over the head. He believes they were looking for the files, but were scared away. That same day was when I got that first death threat."
Rishid stirred again, now grasping Marik's hand as tightly as he could. Marik smiled brightly, his mood changing from dark to happy in a matter of seconds.
Ishizu smiled as well as she watched, but uneasiness burned deep in her heart. It was unbelievable, the danger these poor souls had gotten into. And all because they wanted so desperately to bring an unrighteous practice to a halt!
"I didn't tell you or Rishid," Marik said barely above a whisper, "because I was so afraid that you would get in trouble for your knowledge if somehow either of you were taken prisoner."
"I understand, dear brother," Ishizu said softly, "and I know Rishid does as well."
Marik smiled reminiscently. "Yes . . . he does," he agreed as images from the dream returned to him.
Rishid awoke then, his golden eyes tender and kind. Slowly he pulled himself into a sitting position and embraced Marik and then Ishizu as they joyously dove into his arms.
****
Meanwhile, Joey and the others were not having any luck in the slightest finding the others.
"It's like they've just disappeared off the face of the earth!" Tristan remarked.
"We're gonna find them!" Joey retorted.
Bakura shivered. Joey's car was not warm in the least. In fact, the thing barely ran. The British boy found it a miracle that it hadn't stalled in the snow as of yet. He wanted desperately to find his father and make certain that he was alright, but he knew that Seto and Téa were in more immediate danger. Besides, Yami Bakura would protect Bakura's father . . . wouldn't he? Honestly, Bakura never knew what that old tomb robber would do.
"Hey!" Yugi exclaimed. "That isn't Mr. Thorton up there, is it?!"
Instantly everyone turned to look. Indeed, stumbling through the snow and looking very nigh to panicking was Mr. Burt Thorton.
"Somethin's up with him," Joey commented as he pulled the car over to the curb.
"Mr. Thorton!" Yugi called, leaning out the window. "Do you need a ride?"
The excitable man looked up, seeming almost horrified at being seen. "A . . . a ride?" he fumbled. "Oh . . . oh no. . . . I . . . I just need to find someone . . ."
"Well, we need to find someone too," Tristan put in. "A couple of them. Why don't you come along?"
"I . . . I really couldn't," Mr. Thorton protested, twisting his tie into knots.
"There's enough room," Bakura spoke up.
"It . . . it's not that," Mr. Thorton said hurriedly.
"Then what the heck *is* it?!" Joey demanded irritably.
"People will die if I tell!" was the shocking answer.
"They'll most likely die if you don't tell," Yami Yugi said, appearing without warning.
Mr. Thorton gulped. "I . . . I really can't talk about it . . . no . . ."
"Oh, just get in the car!" Joey yelled, throwing the door open and trying to pull him in.
"You can't force him, Joey," Yugi said sternly. "Even if he does know something that we may need to know."
Joey growled low. "Man, if he does know anything about where Kaiba and Téa are, he'd better tell us."
"They're missing?!" Mr. Thorton yelped. "I knew they shouldn't have been prying around. I just KNEW it!! Now he has them in his grip and he won't ever let them go!"
"Who won't?!" Bakura gasped.
Mr. Thorton suddenly realized he'd said something he would have preferred not saying. With a groan he slumped down into the seat and fumbled with a piece of an orange peel. "Stallone. Antonio Stallone."
"Eh?" Joey raised an eyebrow.
"Never heard of the dude," Tristan declared.
"Good!" Mr. Thorton cried. "Then pretend you didn't hear his name just now!"
Yugi closed his eyes in frustration. He could see this wasn't going to be easy at all.
****
Mokuba ventured to the window slowly and looked out at the heavy snow. Idly he wondered where Seto was. He thought he had heard him go out the door some time ago. But he didn't leave the shelter of his room to go ask Velma or Anna where his brother was. Probably at the office. Seto always went there when he was frustrated and upset about something. And Mokuba knew Seto was frustrated and upset tonight.
As he himself was.
It's like we're not communicating on the same wavelength anymore. No . . . it's more like we're not communicating at all! Mokuba struggled with all of the conflicting thoughts flying through his mind.
But maybe . . . maybe that's my own fault. For wanting to grow up and help. But shouldn't I want to help?! I don't want to be some kind of weak coward!
Tears came to Mokuba's eyes as the memories again came over him. I hurt Seto and Marik. I've hurt them so bad! It would be better for them both if they didn't have to worry about me.
"Is that truly what you believe?"
Mokuba whirled, coming face to face with the veiled man.
"How did you get in?!" the boy demanded defensively.
"I have my ways," was the reply. "Young Mokuba, if all of this bothers you so very much, you should speak with your brother and your friend about it all."
"I don't have to take advice from you," Mokuba retorted, crossing his arms angrily. "And . . . I probably don't still have a brother or a friend."
Shadi walked over to the broken locket and picked it up. "Ah, but that is where you are mistaken. Yes, you have wounded them both—but you can be forgiven for your actions. They can and will forgive you because they both care for you very dearly, and that has not changed. Your relationships with them both can be mended, just as this locket—which is a symbol of your closeness with your brother—can be mended." He handed both pieces to Mokuba, who stared at them with tear-filled eyes.
"But . . ." Mokuba looked up to say more, but the stranger had left. Slumping onto the bed, he continued to gaze at the picture inside the locket. He remembered how Seto had always been there for him. How he had always tried to do everything he could so that Mokuba would be happy.
"Nothing matters, except my little brother."
Mokuba could hear Seto say that as clearly as if he were right in the room. And then the tears flowed again.
"I'm so sorry, Seto," the little boy whispered. "I'm so sorry for everything! I don't know how I can ever make things up to you and Marik! . . ."
Again he went to the window, staring gloomily outside. He wondered if Seto was watching the snow from wherever he was.
Suddenly an arm broke through the glass and grabbed Mokuba by the leg!