The Fall and Rise of Creed Diskence
An Alternate Universe Redemption Fic based on Yabuki
Kentaro's Black Cat series
Black Cat and pretty near all the characters in
this story belong to Yabuki Kentaro
Author's Forward:
I will be posting author's notes at my Live Journal (http: so as not to take up space here. Answers to any questions or comments and various trivia involved in creating this massive piece of fanfic will be posted there. As another note, after some backing and forthing with I've worked out that I can use a single '-' mark to separate sections. So, one line with a dash mark equals a change of voice, two lines marks a change of scene on the same day. Oh, and if you'd review here, even if you discuss the fic on my LJ with me, it'd be really great. Thanks!
KIDNAPPED
May 25, 2004
Sven moaned, putting a hand to his forehead and trying to work out what he'd done to deserve the dwarf hammering on an anvil in his skull. It was apparently an ugly dwarf that hadn't bothered to bathe for a century or so, based on the foul taste in his mouth. Must have been rooting around in a sewer for a while, too.
Slowly, though, memory returned. Sitting in the living room reading, a quiet evening at home with keeping an eye on the kid while Train and Eve handled a case. Creed had just finished watching Iron Chef and was chuckling with pleasure over Sakai - his favorite's - win when the smoke bomb had shattered the window and filled the room with a thick, acrid, gas. Choking, tears pouring out of his eyes, Sven had tried to get to his feet - only to fall over a moment later when the sleeping gas took effect.
"Creed..." He opened his eyes and found himself lying in what looked like a padded cell. Looks like, hell. It is a padded cell. What is going on here?
The room was empty and Sven got to his feet. "HEY! SOMEBODY? WHAT'S WITH THIS?" He rather doubted he'd get a good explanation of the situation, but he figured he'd better play the part of a confused prisoner. Especially since that was pretty much what he was. Hammering on the door as loudly as he could he continued shouting.
A minute passed, then a panel in the door slid aside and a face looked in through the small hole. An older woman, she looked a bit nervous. "Doctor? He's awake." She was speaking French, though that didn't really tell Sven anything.
The voice that spoke wasn't one he was expecting, though it was somewhat familiar. Too old a voice to belong to Creed's old companion - Doctor - the accent was pure Normandy French. "Indeed, Nurse? I would have thought that was obvious." There was a sarcastic air to the tone, a sense that the speaker considered himself superior to everyone.
Sven glared through the window at the woman, then peered past into the room beyond. It looked like an examination room of some sort. There was a black chair in the middle and strapped to it was a thin, pale-haired, figure dressed in a grey hospital uniform - slumped and mumbling under his breath. "Creed! What have you done to him?" He scanned the room and spotted to man who'd just spoken. "CARVEL? YOU?"
"Good afternoon, Mr. Volfeed. I apologize for the rough treatment, but I'm afraid there was no way we could take Guilliaume without taking you as well. Otherwise you might have contacted your friend and come after us." A smile crossed the older man's face. "We don't want Mr. Heartnet to find out until it's too late."
"TRAIN! I WANT TRAIN!"
Dr. Carvel glanced wryly at Creed. "I'm afraid that isn't possible, Guilliaume. After all, your guardian would probably have some objections to our proposed course of treatment."
Creed howled and struggled against the straps weakly, but something seemed to be keeping him from full consciousness. Sven growled a curse. "What treatment?"
The doctor moved to stand so he could look at Sven. "Mr. DeVerry was badly traumatized by one of this hospital's doctors. A regrettable circumstance, all the more so since Dr. Kiel wasn't able to properly complete the procedure - owing to the fact that Guilliaume killed him. We can't repair the damage done, but we can mitigate the circumstances by returning the boy to solitary confinement. Of course, we'll have to get him placed under our guardianship again. His grandfather stupidly believed that something could be done to help the poor wretched creature. Apparently that charlatan you hired thinks the same. Stupid fool. As if the brain could ever be rewired by something so simple as Redirection!"
Sven swallowed. "Solitary confinement?" He knew Creed. Knew that while the little madman didn't mind being alone he also always wanted to be near people at the same time. The realization that Creed's belief that he'd been deliberately damaged was true hit then and he swallowed, hard.
"Possibly some electro-shock therapy to help keep him under control. Though sedation was - mostly - effective enough when he was here last time." Carvel shrugged. "Unfortunately, we'll have to do something about you as well. We would have waited for a better opportunity, but it appeared to me that certain facts about the past were returning to Mr. DeVerry's thoughts and that made him too dangerous to be allowed freedom."
"You..." Words failed Sven and he glanced over at Creed, who was still crying weakly. We have to get out of here. "Creed! Snap out of it! You have to help me!"
"Don't be ridiculous, Mr. Volfeed," Carvel grumbled. "He's heavily sedated. His stamina has always amazed me, of course, but there's no way that he's going to break free. Now, now, Mr. Volfeed. Let's not force me to use the same drugs on you. I'd rather you stayed rational. You know Guilliaume is a danger to everyone around him. My employee may not have been able to capture him before, but he did figure out that you are very aware of the boy's potential for violence. Come now. Isn't it better for everyone if the dear lad is put away - for everyone's own good?"
Sven suddenly realized why he had been taken. Not just to keep Train and Eve from catching up too soon, but to use him as a barter point with Train. His partner would be forced to choose between Creed and Sven's lives and his guardianship over Creed would be the prize. That was why Carvel was trying so hard to convince him to cooperate, so that he would - in turn - convince Train. No. I refuse to let this happen. The problem was, with Creed obviously completely out of it, there was no way to get out. "M. St. Michel might have some objections to the change," he protested.
"M. St. Michel is also my guest, Mr. Volfeed. And while he has yet to agree to assisting me in this matter I'm sure I will be able to convince him in time."
Creed's voice sobbed, "The song is a short one...," he gasped, tears pouring down his cheeks.
Carvel made a disgusted face. "Babbling again - more of that damned foolishness of his. Nurse, give him another dose. We won't be getting anything like sense out of him but I don't want to have to listen to his garbage any longer." He glanced at Sven. "I really don't know how you put up with that arrant drivel for so long."
As Sven watched, the woman stuck a needle in Creed's left arm and thrust the plunger home. Reaction, a complete collapse into unconsciousness, soon followed.
"I'll just leave you for the moment," Carvel said, checking Creed's pulse and nodding with satisfaction. "Nurse, let me know if there are any problems. I need to do my rounds."
"Yes, Doctor Carvel."
Sven closed his eyes and leaned against the wall, wondering what he could do.
-
Creed listened to the footsteps as they echoed off into the distance. His head hurt from the sleeping gas and what he really wanted to do was go off into lala land and not come back out until he was with his Train. Unfortunately, I can't get back to my Train unless I do something about it. The situation wasn't something he felt prepared to handle. He'd lost so much of his old edge. Fighting skills had been kept honed, certainly, but the ability to think clearly and cohesively without releasing his capacity for violence required quiet and calm and time to think out every option.
Time is something I don't have. Train cares about me but in a choice between Sven and myself, I know Sven would still win. The knowledge was a burning pain in Creed's heart but it was a state of affairs that he knew he'd earned. All right. There's no choice, is there? Not if I want to live. And I want to - just not here. Very cautiously he let his mind fall back onto the old track, used the training Chronos had given him to focus himself. In this state of mind he would be nearly unable to comprehend what he did to others, but he would be able to operate. Concentrate on the important things. Getting Sven and St. Michel out of here. Without killing anyone. No matter how much I might enjoy it.
At last, mind as clear as he thought it could be, Creed turned his attention on the nurse. Reshaping his left arm into something long, slender and flexible allowed him to pull it free. The woman was sitting and reading a book, confident in the power of her drugs to hold him in a stupor. Which it might have if she'd stuck that needle in my right arm. Nano-machines won't let them into my bloodstream. He could feel the liquid, a slowly fading chill, pooled in a hollow inside his arm.
Reminded of the sedative, a small smile curved Creed's lips. Turnabout really was fair play, after all. He shaped his hand into something very sharp and had to force himself not to aim it for the woman's eyes. Now, now. Nothing fatal, Creed. Train would not approve. He stabbed sharply, the point driving into the woman's thigh and causing her to shriek and jump upright. Then, a moment later, she slumped to the floor in a heap, as the drug she'd used on him was injected into her.
Working quickly, Creed undid the straps on his body and got to his feet. His hand went automatically to his throat and he nearly panicked when he realized that his choker was gone. Only a vague memory of rough hands pulling it off while he was being tied up, back at the house, relieved him. It would be all right, it had to be. All he had to do was get home.
Forcing himself to stay calm, Creed went to the door to Sven's cell. "Sven? Can you hear me?"
"Creed?" Sven's voice was muffled, but worry and surprise still suffused his tone. "You're awake?"
"Talk later. Stand back." Giving Sven a moment, Creed focused the Imagine Blade and swung it in a perfect arc and slash. A moment later the door fell away, showing Sven pressed up against the far wall. Creed glared at him. "Oh, stop being such a worry wart. I'm in control. Not very good control, but in control."
"What are you doing? Do you realize what a risk you're taking?" Sven's protest made Creed roll his eyes. "Creed, in this state of mind you're a danger to everyone around you!"
-
Sven wondered if he'd gone too far as Creed's expression hardened into exasperation and anger. This was the dangerous Creed, the Creed who'd led the Hoshi. The Creed who would kill you as soon as look at you. Then, very slowly, the white-haired man said between gritted teeth, "Your choice. I either escape with you and St. Michel or I kill myself this minute."
"Wha?" Unable to believe his ears, Sven stepped towards the man, only to stop as Creed raised his right hand so that the Imagine Blade would be pointed straight at his forehead. "I'll finish what Kiel did to me," he growled angrily. "I'll use the Imagine Blade to cut my own head off if I have to. I will not submit to Carvel's treatment."
A sob escaped Creed's throat and Sven realized that his housemate was entirely serious and utterly terrified. "Please, Sven. I'll listen to you. I'll let you tell me what I can do. But we have to get out of here or I really will go mad. Carvel doesn't know what I can do. If he starts in on me again... If I have to go through all that again... I'll kill everyone here and then Train will hate me and I'll have to die anyway."
Drama aside, he's right about this much. He's about as close as he's ever been to reverting. I don't trust his state of mind but Carvel really does have some unpleasant ideas about how to care for a messed up kid. Electro-shock therapy indeed. Sven nodded slowly. "All right. But you listen to me, Creed. I'm not Train, but I'm the only one here who can speak for him. Understand?"
A look of relief crossed the pale face. "Yes."
"Then, for the moment, quiet down and let me find St. Michel. We don't need you in this state right now. Don't go into it again unless I tell you." At Creed's worried look Sven shook his head. "Trust me to make the right decisions, Creed."
The dark eyes almost looked glad as they blurred and Creed's expression went quiet and calm, returning to its usual dazed look. I think he really doesn't enjoy that state anymore than we enjoy him in it, Sven thought and decided that he was never, ever, going to complain about Creed's associative speech or childish ways. Or at least not nearly so much. Poor kid.
-
As Sven checked out the cells connected to the room, Creed sat in the chair vacated by their guard, nudging her snoring form out of the way. "What did you do to her?" Sven asked, glancing at the woman.
"Gave her a dose of her own medicine," Creed sang happily, feeling much better now that he didn't have to be the big mean tough Creed. He'd only done so for a few minutes but he was regretting it. He really didn't like that Creed very much - not anymore. "Nurse go bye, bye now."
Rather to Creed's surprise, Sven laughed instead of looking at him exasperatedly. Usually the nonsense that seemed to stream unbidden from his lips in his current state tended to annoy Sven more than amuse him. At his stare, Sven explained, "I haven't seen that side of you since the church incident. I'd forgotten what a scary creature you were. I much prefer you this way." The man stopped, frowning over at him. "Does it upset you, though? I don't think any of us have ever bothered to ask."
"To thine own self be true," Creed answered, smiling. "Of all the things I miss, I miss my mind the most. But not that much." He trembled and hated the way he felt about that old, bad, Creed. He hadn't realized how terrible that state of mind could feel - as if the entire world was your enemy - adrenaline pouring in a constant and heart rushing stream through the system and all the anger in the world focused through his thoughts. No wonder I needed Train. He was the only one I could consider an ally. Even the Hoshi had had to be careful about him, never presenting any threat to his well-being, or Train's, for fear that his instinct for self-preservation would turn him on them.
Creed wished he could express those thoughts to Sven, but the words just wouldn't come out right. Before he could find a way to say what he wanted to say, though, Sven made a satisfied sound. "Creed? Can you use the Imagine Blade without going into that state? I know you manage the nano-machines okay. Be careful, though, he's pretty close to the door. Right about here."
"No problem. I can see what Kotetsu sees in Level 2." Creed got up and walked to the doorway, pushing his weapon up into the form Sven inelegantly described as the Landshark. "He slices, he dices, he makes julienne doors," he said perkily, suiting action to word.
As the door fell to pieces in front of them, Sven nodded approval. "Iron Chef Sakai would be proud," he commented and Creed felt a bright smile of pride curve his lips. "I do wish it didn't have to giggle that way though."
Creed shrugged as Sven went into the room and knelt beside the lawyer. "He's alive, but unconscious."
-
-
Train snarled as he paced back and forth, twisting Creed's collar angrily between his fingers. No sign, no clues. Not even Sephiria's great and wonderful spy organization had managed to figure out that Sven and Creed hadn't left the house willingly. The idiots had become so utterly certain of Creed's inability to be a problem that they'd stopped watching him as closely.
"I really am sorry about this," Ten said softly. "I wish I was here..."
"Shut up," Train growled at him, then sighed. "No. You have to sleep sometime and this was a well-organized raid. Someone who knew what they were doing set it up. Someone who knew Creed was under watch. Someone good enough to get past Sven's security. An expert."
Ten nodded regretfully. "Maybe if I'd offered to stay here while you were gone. But it's been months since Lugado attacked him. We thought it was an isolated incident. My mistake. Do you think this has something to do with the Hoshi?"
"No," Eve said. "The Hoshi have better methods. Shiki could have taken control of Sven. Ekidona could have teleported in and out. It wouldn't have been necessary to use smoke bombs or sleeping gas. I think the only reason it worked was the timing. Even Sven can't be on the ball all the time - and it's hard for us to get work done when one of us has to stay home with Creed while the other two go on a job. That's why I insisted on going on this last case with you, Train. Sven was pretty tired."
That wasn't the only problem, Train knew. When Eve was Creed's babysitter, Chronos practically doubled their security. He refrained from mentioning that fact, as it annoyed Eve almost as much as the fact that they never let her go out on a job alone. Almost as much as the fact that when she and Sven went on jobs together he tended to be overprotective in the extreme. She didn't like Train's style but at least he let her take risks without half an hour of argument. The trouble was that left Sven having to do more jobs alone than either Train or Eve. Never anything that couldn't be done, but it was still a strain.
"None of us thought someone would want to kidnap Creed. Kill him, yes, but not kidnap." Train shook his head. "Whomever it was definitely knew what they were doing. I'm almost betting it was Lugado who got the abductors past our security. He wouldn't be one of the top assassins in the world if he couldn't do something like that."
Considering that, Ten turned to gaze out the window. "In which case Creed is the target." He sighed, "Damn. I wish we hadn't lost that guy. We'll get Creed home... Soon, Train. I promise you."
A voice spoke from the doorway. "Perhaps some assistance might be in order. If you're willing to make a deal?" The three turned to look at the intruder and Train stared in outright shock. "That is if you're willing to trust a member of the Hoshi," the Doctor continued, smiling gently.
-
Eve eyed the man standing there as Ten prepared to act. "Don't waste your time," she said, putting a hand on the Chronos Number's arm. "He's not really there."
Doctor bowed slightly in Eve's direction. "Superb," he said quietly, with a broad smile. "You are truly a tribute to Dr. Tiayu's art. I would presume that you are examining me via infra-red or ultraviolet?"
"The lack of a heart beat helps too," Eve added, nodding. "Though I will admit to having learned the eye trick from Creed. I'd never seen the "Six Million Dollar Man" before he rented it."
Ten winced. "Is this really the time to discuss source material?" he asked. "What are you doing, or not doing, here? Doctor, right?"
The Doctor nodded. "Indeed." He turned his attention on Train. "It may not surprise you to know that we have kept something of an eye on events with Creed."
"Surprise me? No. Confuse me a bit, yes. I figured that you'd thrown your hands up in disgust and moved on." Train leaned against the wall, attention apparently drifting off somewhere. "After he tossed all of you out on your ears."
"To be honest, Shiki would have been just as happy to leave him to his fate," Doctor admitted. "And don't bother looking for the source of the projection, Mr. Train. Unless you've decided you don't want my help after all."
Eve had already figured out that the fly sitting on the wall wasn't quite normal and she rather suspected that Train had as well. Neither Sweeper said anything as Doctor continued. "It took us a few months to make up our minds about the situation. We very nearly pulled him out of the asylum when we realized he was busily pining away. Except he refused Ekidona's help and made it clear that he'd rather die under the circumstances. And once you began helping him - well one of the ways the Hoshi differs from a certain other organization is that quitting is not an automatic death sentence."
Though she longed to comment that it hadn't been a death sentence for Train to leave Chronos, either, Eve knew perfectly well that that was only because Sephiria apparently had something of a soft place in her heart for Train Heartnet. Instead she said, "Then if you've given up on him, why are you bothering to come here now?"
Doctor glanced at her and smiled. "Well, as I've said, Shiki isn't too happy with the situation but he's been outvoted. Even Leon, who was pretty upset at Creed for deserting us, agreed that we should keep an eye on him - just in case he changed his mind. As for why we're involving ourselves. It's one thing to indulge our leader - our former leader, that is - in his wishes regarding Mr. Heartnet. It is entirely a different thing to permit anyone other than Train to harm him. Creed was one of us. He held us together and kept us moving - albeit for reasons other than what we thought they were - and he matters to some of us a lot."
Eve rather suspected that it was Ekidona who stood so firmly on Creed's side. She knew nothing of Shiki or Leon, and this Doctor likely had motives different from those he was admitting to, but Ekidona - by Creed's own account - had cared about him in such a way that he still felt sorry he'd hurt her. "So, what exactly is your bargain, Doctor?"
"We will give you a device capable of tracking nano-machines. Ekidona is waiting to place it even as I speak. In return, Creed gives us a sample of his current colony. About a finger's worth would be quite enough."
"What?" Ten stared blankly at Doctor. "But you're the one who created them. Why would you need a sample?"
Doctor sighed. "Well, simply because his colony is mutating in ways that are quite unexpected. I'd almost think they've learned from the nano-machines in Miss Eve's body if the mutation hadn't started before he joined you..." A thoughtful look crossed his face. "Though it occurs to me that you did have a brief meeting prior to that..." He glanced sideways, at someone they couldn't see and shrugged in an embarrassed way. "Well, never mind that. It's absolutely certain that they shouldn't be so malleable. They were created too early in the experiments to reach that point. You took him away before I was able to utilize the research we'd gained from Dr. Tiayu." Eve frowned, wondering if Doctor was right. She had spent a certain amount of time helping Creed by acting as a secondary control until he could control his hand and arm without her. No. Then he wouldn't have needed help in keeping them under control.
"Why should Chronos let you have something like that?" Ten demanded, a bit put out. "I don't have a lot of objection to you personally Doctor, but you are the enemy."
Doctor ignored Ten, eyes on Train, who said finally, "Except Chronos isn't in a position to say no. Creed is my responsibility, remember?"
At Ten's startled look, Eve added, "Besides, I don't think that Doctor would ask for them right in front of you if he thought they'd be especially helpful in his experiments. I rather suspect scientific curiosity. Not so?"
"Quite so," Doctor agreed. "I have no doubt his nano-machines would provide invaluable information, but we are already doing quite well with what we have." He smiled. "Besides, Mr. Ten. There's absolutely nothing stopping you from asking Train for another sample and studying it. In fact, if your superiors want to become anywhere near our match they probably will need to do so. Like it or not."
Eve wondered if that was part of the reason Doctor had chosen to make his request known right in front of a Chronos agent. She knew nothing of him, but she had a suspicion that he truly wanted the results of his research to go somewhere. She said nothing, however, deciding that - for the moment - it might be more important to find Creed and Sven. And why is it that I am so worried about Sven, who can take care of himself?
Train took a deep breath. "Very well. One ounce. And another for Chronos if they decide they want it."
Doctor bowed slightly. "Understood. The device is on the doorstep right... now." Suddenly he flickered and disappeared.
-
-
Sven crawled through the slime coated tunnel behind Creed. They'd had to cut their way into the sewer with Creed's Blade, replacing the opening behind them with the cut out piece in order to slow pursuit. It meant having to make a slow, careful, passage through dark, stinking, tunnels, all the while dragging St. Michel along, but it was better than trying to fight their way out by more normal exits.
Still, it really was inconvenient that St. Michel had had such a thorough reaction to whatever sedative he'd been given. From the way the man was mumbling, Sven suspected one of the drugs that helped make the mind more susceptible to suggestion. Sooner or later, no matter how trustworthy the lawyer might be, Carvel probably would have managed to work St. Michel into assisting his plans.
Thinking about that reminded Sven. "Creed?" He spoke softly, not wanting his voice to carry.
"Eh?"
"Whatever did you mean about the song being a short one... Back when Carvel was saying he'd get St. Michel's help?" It wasn't a big deal, just a matter of intense curiosity.
"Oh. Carlisle." When Sven went dead silent with confusion, Creed added, "Robespierre? Sea green incorruptible?"
"Ahhh! Now I understand." Sven had heard the term before, but had never known where it came from and he said as much.
A chuckle from the white-haired man echoed softly through the pipe, "Read a book."
"Hmph. I do read. Just not quite so much as you do, obviously. Nor do I have your memory, oh walking quotation farm."
Another chuckle, followed by a moan of sheer disgust came back to Sven. "Crawling, rather," Creed corrected. "Oh god, yuck. This stuff is disgusting. I've been slimed!"
Sven laughed under his breath. "Just be glad we've got an exit that doesn't mean fighting. I hope."
"That we have an exit at all is a consummation devoutly to be wished," Creed answered. "And the only Train I want at the end of this tunnel is my Train." He sighed. "No, I guess it's just a light."
Sven realized that they were coming to the end of the passage. Which is good, I hope. I don't like this place anymore than Creed does. I think my nostrils are permanently stopped up. Though that last was a blessing. The pipe was part of the sewer system of this place and it stank with the effluvia of rotted food and worse. "Good. That's what we want."
Creed stopped suddenly. "Houston? We have a problem."
"What?"
The soft alto sounded scared. "Watch that first step. It's a doozy."
-
As Creed stared downwards, he noted that the drop wasn't quite as bad as the one he'd left Krantz hanging over, earlier last year. "Deeper than a well and boy is it going to leave a mark if we aren't careful," he added.
"Hold on. Let me look." Sven pushed up beside him. "Oh damn." He looked around at the early morning skies, then back down at the rocks below. At last he looked upwards and back. "Big old building. Institution."
"I could have told you. St. Jude's Hospital for the Insane. I thought you'd realized," Creed said, as the fear rising in him hiked his adrenaline flow up enough for him to think a bit more clearly without having to be forced. He shuddered, looking up at the back of the building. He'd never seen it from this position of course. Had seldom seen the outside since that awful day when Kiel... No. Mustn't think about it. Must not think about it. Since the day he'd been hurt and had hurt in turn. He pushed the thoughts aside and focused on the moment. "What do we do?" He was thinking more clearly, but he could not plan in this state of mind. He rubbed at his bare neck, aching for his losses. Train. I want Train.
"I know you do," Sven said gently, squeezing Creed's shoulder and he realized he'd muttered that aloud. As he looked at the older man, hating the way he felt and hating the dependency that made it impossible for him to work out an escape from the situation, Sven smiled comfortingly. "Don't worry. I think we can do it."
"HOW?" Creed gasped, biting at his lip.
Sven grasped Creed's right hand and pointed at his nails. "As I recall, your nano-machines are replacing these, right? As the skin cells die off, more of you is becoming nano-machine. Can you make claws strong enough to support your weight and one more person's? Think Wolverine. Or Lady Deathstrike."
It took Creed over a minute to work the idea out in his head. At last he nodded. "Yes. Head shoulders knees and toes... I mean... I'll need my toes too. Sorry."
"I said I preferred this to the Scary Creed," Sven reminded him, though his expression looked mildly exasperated. "I still do. Okay. Take off your shoes and see about getting attached to the wall. I'll hand St. Michel to you. Work your way down, leave St. Michel there then come and get me."
Creed might have objected to having every step spelled out to him, but he recognized the need. In his current state of mind he needed to have a very specific course of action. And God help us if something goes wrong.
-
Sven watched Creed slowly working his way down the cliff side, St. Michel's arms wrapped around his neck and held there by means of his own coat. I know you'll be careful, Creed. But dear God this isn't something I'd want to do if I had a choice. Still, Creed was the only one with the ability to climb such a sheer surface.
At last, far below - or so it seemed to Sven - Creed paused and lay St. Michel safely on some rocks near to the edge of the swiftly running stream that ran past the cliff side. Then he started up again, moving faster than he had going down, lengthened fingernails and toenails flashing in the brightening sunlight.
I hope he hurries. I'm cold, I'm wet and I'm getting wetter... The thought made Sven stop and glance down at the pipe. Uh oh. "Creed. Hurry. Someone's turned on the water!"
"Feeling flushed?" Creed asked, then looked embarrassed as he realized what he'd said. "Sorry."
"Never mind the bad puns, kid! The water level's rising and I'm going to be worse than flushed if you don't get here fast." Sven risked a look backwards and realized that the flow was increasing. "Oh shit. You're not going to make it!" He glanced at the cliff, searching for handholds and thought he might manage to cling on if he hurried.
The sound of Creed rushing up the cliff, gasping for air, accompanied Sven's wild swing out over the edge of the pipe and grasp for the rocks nearby. Shit. Smaller handhold than I hoped. This is not the way I want to go!
"SVEN!" Creed's panicked voice came from about ten feet away and below and Sven glanced down at him, realizing his companion's danger. "GET BACK! THAT'S WHERE THE WATER..." Sven's words cut off as a stream of water poured out of the hole, a fast and strong flow that spilled rapidly down the cliff side to strike Creed across the back and shoulders.
Sven watched the man's struggle to hang on and fought to find footholds so he could - somehow - make his way over to help. He can't do it. There's no way! He was sure Creed was going to fall.
Hand over hand, Sven struggled towards Creed, gripping for a purchase and nearly failing. At last he managed to get close and he reached out, intending to grab Creed by the arm and pull at least one hand out from the raging torrent that was enveloping him. The bastards must have figured out where we were and decided to flush the system. That's far more water than they'd be sending through the sewers at one shot. The thought was cut short as he felt the rock under his other hand begin to give way. Oh. Shit.
As he started to fall he felt something grab him by the wrist, felt pain in his arm as long, sharp, fingernails pricked him, only to disappear as their owner realized what he was doing. For a moment he thought he was saved, but the weight of his body, along with the weight of the water pouring down on Creed combined to send them both sliding down in a barely controlled slide.
-
Creed closed his eyes and let his instincts do what came naturally. His body wanted to live. He wanted to live. I will see Train again and I will bring Sven back alive with to him. He couldn't have borne the look on Train's face if he allowed his beloved's partner to die.
Rocks pounded against his body as the two tumbled down, his clawed hand and feet doing their best to slow the fall enough to keep them alive, if not entirely uninjured. He only wished Sven wasn't so damned heavy. My own fault. I keep testing that torte on him. It was too bad they shared a fondness for chocolate. He wanted Sven to like him and indulging the blonde's tastes was part of it.
And this is a really stupid thing to be thinking about while sliding down a cliff face, Creed thought. Is there a bottom? Of course there is. Oops, I think we just passed St. Michel... Okay, not much further.
The two men splashed into the water below but Creed grabbed hold of a rock and pulled himself up onto it, still clutching Sven in one hand. For several minutes they just stared at each other. Then, as reaction set in, they both began to laugh hysterically.
It was, naturally, Sven who recovered before Creed could. At last, however, Creed managed to work himself to a semblance of calm and look around. "Wow. That was a buggy ride."
"Tell me about it..." As Creed opened his mouth to comply, Sven bopped him lightly on the top of his head. "I didn't mean that literally." He started to move and turned pale, looking down at his legs. "Oh shit."
"What? What is it?"
"My right leg is broken and I think... yeah... I've sprained my left ankle." Sven looked deeply chagrined. "Crap. This is not good."
Creed couldn't help but mutter, "Somebody shoot me."
"I left my gun at home. And I'm the one with the broken leg, Creed." Sven's sigh was sharp and accompanied by a moan of pain. "Damn. Damn, damn, damn."
Looking around, Creed frowned, hand rubbing at his throat again. "We have to get under cover. Before they send someone after us." He was very glad of the fear and excitement of the last few minutes. He wasn't thinking with perfect clarity but he was able to make some sensible decisions. "I'll get St. Michel over to the trees, then you. I can make you crutches. You'll have to walk on the sprained ankle."
"Oooouch."
"Grin and bear it, Sven. Unless you want to wait down here for our friends to find us."
-
-
Lugado ignored the mutters from his employer as he gazed out the window at the two figures making their way into the trees. He rises in my estimation every time. Though I still would give much to know more about that Imagine Blade of his. He especially would have liked to see what Creed Diskence had done to get himself and two other men, one unconscious, down the side of that steep cliff alive.
It's one thing to make that kind of descent alone. Quite another to attempt it with two people. Volfeed may have been helping, of course, but he's obviously injured now. Beside him, Carvel demanded, "Are you planning on doing anything to get them back? I can not afford to let them go now. Especially not the boy." There was fear in the man's eyes, as if he expected some horrible retribution from the pale-haired lunatic.
Shrugging, Lugado nodded. "I'm on my way." He headed towards the doorway, only to stop when the doctor asked if he needed help. Turning, he looked at the man silently and coldly. "To stop one man? It was one thing to expect me to permit assistants in capturing them - that aspect of the job was simply to deal with Volfeed's security measures. It is quite another to say that I cannot handle Creed Diskence."
"I only say that because you failed to capture him before."
Lugado's glare made Carvel quail. "So you have already said. I admit, I underestimated the man. I will not do so again. He is more skilled than his behavior suggests." He didn't add that Diskence obviously had an ability beyond that of normal men - he'd been careful not to mention that before, for fear of being laughed at and accused of trying to hide his failure behind a wild story.
Whatever the skill is, though, I think it has to do with how they broke out. Those doors were not simply smashed in and the entrance they made to the sewer was cut open. He had investigated Creed more carefully, looked into his background. That had been when he'd heard the rumors of a powerful weapon called the Imagine Blade. Though how he kept it hidden when we searched him entirely is a worrisome question.
Continuing out the door, Lugado said, "I'll handle the matter or die trying."
-
-
Train looked at the device connected to the computer and shook his head. "Okay. So that's you," he pointed at one bright spot on the monitor, "Probably me, too. Over there has to be Creed. Then where are they?"
Eve pointed at a string of numbers beneath the screen. "Looks like they're in France, if the GPS reading is correct."
"France? Why the hell would they be in France?" A sudden thought occurred to him. Surely their trust in St. Michel wasn't misplaced. What if he had something to do with this?
When Train expressed his worry, however, Eve shook her head. "If it were St. Michel he would have Creed killed, not kidnapped. Creed's will leaves most of his holdings to St. Michel, with a trust fund for you - one that doesn't nearly cut into what's left."
Train nodded. It had been at his insistence that the will had been made that way. He didn't need all that money or the headaches associated with handling it or the rest of what Creed owned. As Creed's nearest living relative, and a man who obviously gave a damn for the businesses that their family had built, St. Michel had seemed the right choice. Hell. His father probably should have ignored the fact that he was a bastard and given it all to him anyway. "You're probably right. "Okay. So they're in France. Grab the laptop and this... thing... of Doctor's and come on. Ten? You going to tag along?"
"Damn right I am. I'm getting rather fond of that white crested loon of yours," Ten said. "I want to make sure he's okay."
"Right. Call the airline then and get us three tickets to whatever airport's nearest that dot, Eve. We're on our way." Train grabbed his coat and headed for the door, pausing only long enough to grab Creed's choker, shoving it into his pocket. I'm coming for you. For both of you, Sven. Creed. And God help anyone who gets in my way.
To Be Continued