Disclaimer: I do not own the Fate franchise it belongs to Kinoko Nasu and Type-Moon.
Fortuna Imperatrix Mundi
Prologue: La Torre
Big things have small beginnings.
A fairly common saying, and one that's easy enough to understand. One doesn't even need to get too technical with it, just the simple example of how the mightiest trees grow from tiny seeds being enough to explain it all.
And here and now, it all begins with a simple set of codes. Just letters and numbers, meaningless to your average man and woman, and completely impotent by themselves.
A man in a maintenance technician's uniform whistled as he approached his destination, and after having his credentials checked by the guard on duty, allowed into the room. The men inside gave him only the most cursory of glances before they returned to their work, the technician continuing to whistle as he proceeded to his assigned space.
The laptop was set onto the table. A power cable was attached, followed by the network link. The screen powered on, and a box opened, asking for credentials. They were entered, and the man's access rights verified, was allowed into the network, to allow him to perform the necessary tasks to keep the hospital's internal network functioning properly.
Nor could the tasks be done only once, they must be repeated at periodic intervals, and only by qualified individuals at that. Those were the reasons the technician was here, and why everyone else saw nothing alarming about his presence. He was supposed to be here, had been many times now, and never before had he given them any reason to be suspicious of him.
Maintenance work proceeded smoothly over the new few hours, no one paying any attention as the technician pored over diagnostic reports and conducted system upgrades one after the other. Tests and simulations were done, reports compiled and updated, changes saved and implemented. No one noticed the lines of code he periodically checked, flashing over in green on black in a window hidden behind other windows, their introduction into the system unnoticed, similarly hidden as they were among other lines of code being introduced into the system, slipping through unhindered by the hospital network's firewalls, none of which had any reason to intercept them.
The tasks were done. The codes were uploaded. The technician signed off, disconnected from the network, turned his laptop off, and placing his trash inside the trashcan, left after another cursory check from the guard on duty.
He passed by the security office to file his reports, and then gathering the rest of his things inside the locker room, left the building, refusing invitations for a night out and a drink on the basis of needing to get home for an even longer shift at another place tomorrow. No suspicions were aroused, for it was all too plausible.
It had even happened before.
The man left whistling and unconcerned about the day. He'd done what he was paid to do, whether it was his official salary, or the hundreds of thousands of American dollars sitting under a pseudonym in an offshore account.
All the while, lines of code spread unnoticed through the hospital's network, no longer as impotent as they had once been, and preparing a backdoor where once there was none.
A week passed. A nondescript white van sat in a parking lot not far away. Nondescript except for the small and compact satellite dish on its roof, that is.
Inside, men sat at their stations, staring into glowing screens. Headsets were pressed to their ears, mouthpieces barely an inch away from their mouths. All around them, mobile mainframes and servers hummed quietly, operating lights tiny pinpricks of bright light in the van's shadow.
"We are accessing the network." One man said while tapping away at his keyboard. "Backdoor located, standby for network access…and, we're in."
"Good work." The man in charge of the support team said, and clapping his subordinate on a shoulder. "Now bring up the internal layout, the patient manifest, maternity ward manifest, schedule of shifts and rotations, the personnel manifest…you know the drill."
"Yes, sir." The first man said, already tapping away on his keyboard.
"We have access to their internal security and surveillance systems." Another man said. "We can be overridden locally, though."
"That's for the next team to handle." The team leader said, and drawing himself up. "Our job is to give them the chance to do just that, and provide support."
"Yes, sir." The two men chorused, before the first man continued.
"I've found the data we need, downloading it now." He said.
"Good…upload our files once that's done." The team leader said with a nod.
"Will do, sir." The first man said.
The team leader crossed his arms over his chest as his team continued working away, the other two men in the van silently monitoring all communications around them for any sign they'd been made. A few minutes later, and he glanced in the door's direction, as a sixth man arrived.
He was carrying a Starbuck's bag with him.
"About time." The team leader said.
"Sorry, sir." The man said while handing him a coffee cup. "But there was a line."
The team leader hummed in acknowledgement, and taking the offered coffee took a drink. Then he cringed and held the cup away. "I thought I said French roast!" he said.
"That's what it is, sir." The man said, turning away from distributing coffee to hand the receipt over.
The team leader gave it a glance, squinted at the server's writing on his cup that said it was French roast, and then gave the coffee's fumes a whiff. It really was French Roast.
"…more cream." He said instead.
Night fell over Fuyuki City. The Moon rose into the sky. The city's nightlife came awake. The night deepened. The Moon rose even higher into the sky. The nightlife bloomed in all its escapist glory.
Men in the uniforms and BDUs of the private security agency contracted by the hospital proceeded to the security room unhindered. If those present didn't seem to recognize the men, they didn't give it much thought, the agency they worked for was quite large, and their credentials were valid anyway.
They were probably new detail, maybe not really new blood, but freshly-transferred from somewhere else.
An electronic lock beeped as a key card opened the door. The PMCs entered the security room.
"You're here early." The ranking officer began, turning in their direction. "Shift doesn't end for another…"
The words died on his lips as a suppressed pistol put a nine-millimeter into his head. Other security officers tried to react, but moved too slow and died the same way.
The door was sealed and locked. The bodies dragged to one side. The PMCs took their stations, and taking direct control of the internal security and surveillance systems, ensured there would be no local overrides.
"We have complete control of the system." A PMC said a few minutes later.
The lieutenant in charge nodded, and then opened the encoded line. With the hospital's network compromised, the PMC's signal piggybacked onto the hospital's own outbound communications, and relayed by the support team, went to its final destination.
"The doors are open." The man said. "Commence the operation."
"…acknowledged." The reply came, firm and laconic in its finality.
The lieutenant nodded, and then drawing himself up, turned his attention to the myriad of CCTVs playing live on the screens before him. The metallic stink of blood twitched at his nose, wafting through the air with the room's air conditioning, but the man tuned it out instinctively.
It wasn't the first time he'd smelt spilled blood, and a lot of it at that, to say nothing of dead bodies beginning to rot.
And it wouldn't be the last time either.
"Chopper inbound." A man said. "Rooftop level…access granted."
The roar of the chopper's engines filled the cabin, and forcing the men inside to shout to be overheard. "Hey, LT!" one man shouted. "Who's the Second Owner down there again?"
"…Tokiomi Tohsaka!" the man shouted back. "He's an idiot!"
That got a ripple of laughter from the men inside the chopper, which quieted down as the pilot spoke up over the internal line. "Heads up, boys and girls!" the veteran pilot yelled. "Here we go!"
The PMCs checked their weapons, flipping off safeties and chambering rounds. All the while the chopper made its final approach on the hospital, and briefly hovering over the landing pad, slowly but steadily descended.
Doors slid open. PMCs flooded out, and secured the perimeter. "Team Charlie, secure the perimeter!" The LT barked. "Vasquez, keep the engines running, we'll need to bug out hot and fast!"
"Leave it to me, LT!" the pilot said with a nod.
"Teams Bravo and Alpha, with me!" the LT barked, already heading for the access stairwell. "Let's move it, commandos!"
Fire Teams Alpha and Bravo followed the LT's lead, making their way into the blockhouse and then down the access stairwell to the top floor of the building. Nurses and doctors on night duty gasped in shock and surprise as heavily-armed and armored men came out of the stairwell…
…and then stopped caring at all, at a gesture from the LT.
It neither fazed nor merited a response from his men, long used as they were to their platoon leader's use of magic to support their operations. Moving in silence, communicating only by hand signals, Bravo Team secured the elevator, while Alpha Team used it to proceed to the Genesis Floor, and the maternity ward therein.
Again, nurses and doctors on night duty were caught by shock and surprise at their arrival, only to be left uncaring by the LT's magic. Sweeping through the floor and into the maternity ward, the commandos checked each crib quickly but carefully, until they found what they were looking for.
"Is she the one?" a woman asked the LT.
The man checked the clipboard attached to the crib, and nodded. "Package has been identified." He said. "Secure it, and proceed for evac."
"Vanguard," the word came through the encoded line. "Be advised, Tango One is on his way to the maternity ward. We'll slow him as best we can, but get the hell out of there."
"We must have tripped a ward. Let's move, commandos!"
The commandos rushed back to the elevator, Lance Corporal Rodriquez holding the package firmly but gently to herself, the rest of the commandos making sure to keep their corners clear and flanks secure until they reached the elevator. Then it was another ride up, and rendezvousing with Bravo Team, they left claymore mines behind as 'presents' for Tango One while they rushed to the landing pad.
They arrived with no incident, and leaving another claymore behind them, piled into the chopper. "Vasquez!" the LT shouted. "We're clear! Get us to the extraction point!"
"Hold onto your butts, this will be quick and easy."
The chopper lifted off, but the LT kept his eyes on the landing pad until they were well clear, and narrowing them as he spotted an explosion in the distance.
Looks like Tango One got to the landing pad in one piece. Must be less of an idiot than we thought…or not…
The Learjet's engines roared as they idled on the tarmac, a man in dark-colored business attire standing patiently next to the helipad several dozen meters away. His scalp was covered with close-cropped, thinning hair turning white, but still retaining plenty of blonde shades, while his beard and goatee were neatly trimmed.
He narrowed his eyes as the chopper moved in, and then landing, spilled commandos out. They spread out, forming a perimeter and securing the helipad, even as the LT rushed to meet with his superior. "Tango One is on the move!" he shouted over the noise of the chopper and aircraft engines.
"We'll be long gone by the time he gets here." Viljam Edelfelt said.
"Yes, sir!" the LT said before turning to Rodriguez. "Stay safe, Elisa, until we meet again."
"Likewise, LT." the lance corporal said, before joining Viljam at the jeep that would take them to the waiting plane. Still carrying the baby with her, now awake from all the noise and crying in her turn, the lance corporal busied herself with reassuring the child, even if she probably wouldn't fall asleep for a long while yet.
The jeep drove them to the plane, Viljam leading the way up the stairs to the passenger cabin. "Captain," he said, in passing to the man and his copilot as they rushed past. "Take off immediately."
"Yes, my lord." The captain laconically replied.
Maids showed Viljam and Rodriguez to their seats, the latter shrugging off her flak jacket and taking off her helmet to make it more comfortable for the child she was holding. With some help from the maids, she was strapped into her seat, Viljam doing likewise for himself.
Already, the plane's engines were building up noise as they spun up for the long trip back to Finland, and then the plane was moving. Viljam checked his wristwatch, and then sat back as the plane taxied down the runway, and on getting the go ahead, sped down the runway, building up speed before finally taking off.
All according to plan.
"Would you like to hold your niece, my lord?" Elisa Rodriguez asked, gently shaking the child in her arms, finally managing to get her to calm down.
Viljam gave a wintery, if tender smile, before stroking the child's cheek. She gurgled happily, tiny hands moving to grab her uncle's finger.
Sakura Edelfelt-Tohsaka, you will have a very bright future ahead of you, of that there is no doubt.
Everything is finally as they should be, and as they should have been decades ago.
A/N
Fortuna Imperatrix Mundi: Fortuna Empress of the World, an orchestral piece where the famous – and much overused – O Fortuna comes from.
La Torre: The Tower, the sixteenth card of the Major Arcana. It's traditionally depicted as a tower struck ablaze by lightning, and is associated with danger, accident, disaster and catastrophe. However, it can also have positive meanings: liberation, for one, and unexpected, potentially beneficial change.
