Title: Silent Consonant
By: Dr. Kim-chan
Author's Note: Exactly one year ago, I got a crazy idea in my head and wrote and published the first chapter of "Silent Consonant", not knowing that, about 365 days later, it'd be at 37 chapters, receive 200 reviews (stops and thanks strawberry-fields-forever for reaching that momentous mark), have people making artwork and videos for it, and just generally having wonderful readers and reviewers who let me feel that I don't totally suck at writing. So not only are we wishing a happy birthday to those whose birthdays fall in February (including the awesome Naomi Misora (11th), the equally awesome Halle Lidner/Bullook (18th), mafia member Kal Snyder (23rd), and the Original Kira, Light Yagami (28th)), but we're also wishing a happy birthday to the fanfiction itself! Ironic, once you think about it.
I guess this also counts as a Valentine's Day present, but don't get me started on that holiday…bleh. I did get a new laptop, though (kisses her Acer Aspire), so that'll probably make updates go a lot faster. (hears readers snickering) Seriously! I mean it!
Anyway…the first chapter started with Light finding out about L's disappearance, and now we've come full-circle. To those who've been waiting and nagging this whole time (and I mean that in a nice way): YES! Light and L will finally meet (not counting their brief encounter in Chapter 21)!
EDIT: Oh poop. I also forgot: Mello's wonderful right-hand man, the gamer Matt...his birthday was/is also this month (right on the 1st). Sorry, Matt...you always seem to be forgotten somehow...
"Is the floating blockade in position?"
"Affirmative. All lookouts in position. No unauthorized watercraft seen approaching or leaving the perimeter, and all other watercraft not involved with the operation have been instructed to keep a distance of at least two nautical miles…"
The atmosphere was nothing short of tense.
Though the interior of the large van didn't allow for outside views, a couple of black-and-white monitors showed as much as Watari and the agents cramped inside the van already knew. They were parked at an inconspicuous distance from one of the only two-way intersections on the narrow spit of land—just one of many that comprised of the Port of Los Angeles. A few warehouses and industrial complexes had fallen out of use around the area, and even fewer were protected by unwritten rules of decorum, seeing as how the port was an essential gateway for natural resources, cargo, and a couple of cruise ships. In one of those rare unprotected buildings sat one of the mafia's bases of operation, though no one looking in from the outside would have ever been able to tell if it was abandoned or not. For diverse reasons, the mafia had been able to keep this place free from police presence, only coming here to do business at certain times or in case of an emergency within the crime family.
As one part of the sting team kept ships away and prevented potential escape ships from coming in or leaving, a couple of the FBI's long-time undercover agents had been called to infiltrate the meeting and pick up recordings via wires so the two primary strike forces outside (one on land and one coming in from behind the warehouse by boat) would have a better idea of when to strike. Leading the land team was Carter himself, based on his army experience and close association with Watari.
Right now, nearly everyone was tuned in to the channel broadcasting the sound coming in from the undercover agents' wires, and last-minute details were being attended to.
"Strike One is in position," Carter's voice announced over the crackle of one of the van's radios. "Strike Two, what's your status?"
"…Strike Two closing in on the shore. Less than 0.7 nautical miles until landing. Requesting status of inside targets."
"No visible lookouts in the building windows or at the entrance," one of the agents in the van reported. "Street traffic is clear. Unauthorized trucks and other vehicles cleared from the surrounding area. Shore Two, what do you see?"
The phrase "Shore Two" referred to another team of lookouts camping out at a loading dock at the edge of a shore less than a couple hundred yards away from the warehouse; the van Watari was in had appropriately been named "Shore One".
A voice chimed in from Shore Two's van, reporting no visible mafia lookouts on their end.
"This is Shore One. All lookouts and all strike forces: once we get the signal from the undercover agents, Strike One will move in from the front first, and Strike Two will enter from the rear as backup," Watari spoke into a communications device. "Primary target is Dwight Gordon, a.k.a Rod Ross. Don't fire any shots unless you're under attack. Understood?"
"Copy that," each team reported in one by one.
Sighing, Watari checked his watch, even though the monitors showed the lights of the port illuminating the twilight sky over the edge of land. Unlike everyone else, he knew how this would end up. Rod Ross was already aware of the incoming forces, but he had agreed to play along, so long as he got away scot-free.
Just a few minutes left…
His cell phone vibrated in his coat pocket.
"Watari."
"It's Bullook."
She sounded out of breath—a bad sign.
"What's wrong?"
"I have some news on the Beyond Birthday investigation. Ten minutes ago, beat cops found a car whose plates and description matched the car rented under the name of Rue Ryuuzaki. It was found abandoned in the Wholesale District in downtown L.A., so it was most likely just a decoy to throw us off. Just in case, LAPD took it to scrutinize it for more clues. However, we got a hit while canvassing the city using the photo you gave us. There's been a couple of sightings of Beyond at a couple of convenience stores, and none of them have been more than three miles from one of our points of interest: Brentwood Inn, near the Bel Air neighborhood."
"I see. Don't do anything on that end until we wrap up the operation here. We want to have enough manpower to make sure Beyond's still there."
"With all due respect, sir, we're not even sure he's there either."
"What do you mean?"
"I have a couple of agents en route to Good Samaritan Hospital. Less than an hour ago, someone sent a video to both us and the SIS-L Japan Branch. Visuals were nothing but a black background and a white Old-English 'L', similar to the design Beyond used in the video broadcasts in Japan. The message was, 'Loud will be silent, beyond will be within reach, and six more equals twelve.' Matt and Mello believed the first part of the video was referring to Agent Loud, so that's why I sent someone out to make sure he hadn't been captured—hold on, I'm getting a call from them right now…"
A brief pause.
Watari thought he heard some distinctive cursing.
"…Loud was checked out as per schedule, but his car's still in the hospital's parking garage. The reception desk didn't see anyone come in to pick him up, so they must have got him outside. We're still working on the meaning of the last two parts of the message, though I have a guess the word 'beyond' is referring to Beyond Birthday himself."
The classic three-pronged attack.
While most of the SIS-L Los Angeles Branch and LAPD were preoccupied with the mafia and Misora and Near's kidnapping, Loud was taken. At this rate, the SIS-L would hardly be able to save itself.
Was Beyond truly that brilliant?
…Wait.
A few hours after your departure, there was a national news report in England about two patients escaping from Broadmoor Hospital...
Roger's words echoed in his mind.
That was the only possible explanation.
But that couldn't be.
L appropriating the role of Beyond?
If he was that desperate, he deserved to be committed.
"…We got the signal from our people inside. All teams are standing by."
Watari looked up at one of the agents helping him coordinate the operation.
"…Understood. Proceed with the operation, but I want Strike One to report back to Shore One immediately after we accomplish our objectives and leave the apprehension to Strike Two. Tell them that once everyone gives the all-clear."
"Strikes One and Two, permission has been granted."
"Copy that. Strike One moving in!"
Whoever this redheaded woman was, this certainly wasn't her first crime.
He felt a lot better, thanks to his stay at the hospital, but that was physically speaking. Confidence-wise, it couldn't be any further from the truth.
It seemed an embarrassing situation for a CIA operative to find himself in, but what could he truly do? He had no gun on him, and so far, the woman didn't reveal a weapon or present herself as an imminent threat.
What do you want with me?
I don't want anything to do with you. As for the person who does, he hasn't told me yet, so I'm not really in a position to answer that. I guess we'll know soon enough, won't we?
That was all they'd said to each other thus far, and now she was herding him into an elevator at some upscale hotel downtown. Like an expert, she made him skirt around all the surveillance cameras in the lobby without looking too conspicuous, using the stairways to get to their room instead of the elevator.
She didn't want to be traced.
Reasonable enough, since she was absconding with a CIA agent, but there had to be something more to this.
One quiet hallway later, she ushered him into a comfortable suite. The sitting area was littered with electronic equipment, but other than that, it didn't seem as if she'd been staying here for very long. Taken aback by the cordial surroundings, it took a while for Loud to regain his composure, and he turned his body to the side in a cautious gesture and shuffled against the wall slowly. He was a rare breed of government agent, one who tended to lower his guard when it came to women who were the least bit attractive. But when he needed to, he could be rather brutal with anyone who crossed him.
But again, the redheaded woman did nothing more than walk right past him.
"All right. So I picked you up. That leaves six more...I guess I should contact him."
"Contact who?"
She smirked.
"If you think it's this Beyond Birthday character the SIS-L's chasing, then I assure you it's not. We might both be considered 'criminals', but we're on two completely different wavelengths. If you ask me, that guy's in a universe of his own."
"…I never heard a criminal actually admit that they're a criminal."
"And I didn't say I was a criminal, either. I said other people consider me a criminal. I'd consider myself more of a professional."
She sat down in a loveseat and began dialing a number into a cell phone, seemingly oblivious to the fact that she was dealing with someone on equal level with her, and not even considering the possibility that Loud could very well turn this situation (if it could be called that) to his advantage. Loud only knew a couple of people with this kind of attitude.
Those who didn't know what they were doing, and those who did.
She held up the cell phone—now ringing—to him.
"Wait a minute…who're the six others you were talking about? And you still haven't answered my first question."
"If you want to know that badly, answer the damn phone."
Tentatively, Loud took it from her hands and held the receiver up to his ears.
"…Hello?"
Blurred images of the city raced past Light's eyes as the train brought him closer to his stop. It was like every other evening; he was coming back home from cram school, anticipating an evening of study, anticipating his college entrance exam in the coming weeks, and fulfilling his role as Japan's best student.
Only today, he had two passengers with him.
One of them held a cell phone up to his ear with nothing but a forefinger and a thumb, and though not many people talked on their cell on a train in Japan, at least this strange character had the decorum to whisper.
"I'm assuming this is Stephen Loud, the CIA operative contracted by Watari to protect my successors—Near, Mello, and Matt. And yes, by saying "my successors", I'm simultaneously claiming that my identity is L, the world-famous detective Watari has been working with all these years and the one for whom the SIS-L was created. If you want absolute confirmation that I am who I say I am, then it should go without saying that it won't do for me to just repeat data that can easily be obtained through the FBI's database by a hacker."
Light glanced over at the man's dark bags encircling his eyes. His face hardened as he paused.
"Since it's extremely sensitive data, Watari doesn't keep photographs or descriptions of my successors anywhere in the database, and given his usual tactics, Beyond wouldn't have had the opportunity to see anyone but Near, so the only people who would have ever seen the other two are me, Watari, you, Agent Bullook, and Agent Carter. Given that…I know Mello is blond, and Matt is a redhead. And Mello, if I'm not mistaken, has a propensity towards chocolate."
Another short pause.
"…Good. Then these next several hours should go a lot smoother. I can't exactly tell you how, but very soon I'll give Beyond no other choice but to bring himself out into the open. Once that happens, Misora and Near should be back in the SIS-L's care, and after that, my accomplice will contact me again once you two have garnered the support of Bullook and Carter. After everyone's gathered, the eight of you will leave at different times from different airports and regroup at another undisclosed location. My successors and Misora will vouch for the authenticity of my identity when the time comes. Just follow my accomplice's instructions for the time being—and be prepared to cut off all ties with the SIS-L."
L hung up the phone. Sitting across from Light, Aiber smirked and crossed his arms in front of his chest.
"One down, six to go, huh?"
L ignored the con man's quip and turned to the caramel-haired teenager sitting next to him, the deathly serious expression on the detective's face replaced by one of genuine curiosity. That coupled with his pale skin, wild hair, large eyes, and larger dark bags added a sense of surrealism to the whole situation.
Neither could Light believe that, less than an hour ago, he'd been approached by him and his Italian co-conspirator, not wanting to kidnap him, but rather wanting to ride the train with him.
But of all people, Light knew this was L.
That memory of the Tsukiji fish market—as well as his memories of Beyond—would never leave his mind.
"Yagami-kun…how much do you know about me?" L asked.
Light blinked, not expecting the question or the familiarity L added to the suffix of his name, but he was more than able to give an answer.
"About as much as Misora does, I guess."
"And how much is that?"
Light grimaced. He really didn't know what to think of this man at this point. He knew this was L only because he'd seen Beyond Birthday, so he could differentiate between the two, but L was more than a far cry from the idealistic image he held in his mind ever since he first heard of the renowned sleuth. For one thing, L's manners were, to say the least, unpolished. They'd only met a few moments ago, and already L was severely testing both his intelligence and his patience, as if Light hadn't been kidnapped by Beyond and become privy to the dirty secrets of both Watari and the SIS-L.
Well, if he was as smart as everyone claimed he was, maybe he'd appreciate his cynicism.
"Enough to know that things for you can't get any worse," Light retorted.
Aiber snorted loudly, and again L disregarded him, putting the edge of his thumbnail in his mouth.
"You're right. I suppose they can't. On the other hand, if a situation cannot possibly get any worse, then if the popular maxim is true, it has no other choice but to improve—which is why I came to Japan to solicit your help."
L's head perked up as the train began to slow down.
"We won't be getting off with you, so I must ask you to listen closely and remember what I tell you. My accomplice in Los Angeles recently sent a video to both the Los Angeles and Japan Branches of the SIS-L. If Beyond doesn't already know about it, tell him, and also tell him that I've decided to accept free will—in those exact words."
All those of the world…there is such a thing as fate, but there is also such a thing as free will. Most have the choice of exercising free will in order to change their fate, the choice of discovering what they can do with their lives…
Beyond's message to the SIS-L.
Was that what he was referring to?
"…It'll be an eighty-five percent chance that once he receives that message, he'll transfer his 'hostages' to me. I expect everyone to be here by tomorrow night at the latest, and I'd like you to meet us at this location. Only then can I be able to explain myself in full."
After L made sure Light memorized the name and address of a hotel and the specific room number, the train finally stopped at Light's station. Light stood up and made a move for the doors, but before he stepped out, he heard L's voice call him back.
"Yagami-kun…do you believe in fate or free will?"
Light paused, seriously contemplating the question for a few seconds…but only for a few seconds.
"As long as you're using your life for a positive purpose, what difference does it make? The minute you start asking that, it really doesn't matter."
L smiled—the first true one he'd given in weeks.
"…That is my sentiment as well. I believe we'll work well together, after all."
"Work well together—? Wait!"
Before Light could get an answer to his own question, the door slid closed, and the train began to pick up speed until it disappeared down the track.
(End Chapter 37)