Chapter 21: Blood Rush
The moon was in the middle of a wide arch through Cid's office window. He stared at it for a moment, tracing the foggy orb with his eyes. The night was ticking away, and he still wasn't sure what to do about Carson Brecht. The man had stolen one of the sea vessels from Garden's docking bay as well as the Ragnarok. And in neither instance had he even attempted to hide what he was doing, using his own instructor number and password. The young forensics officer had disappeared as well, and Cid had a decent idea where they had gone even though the cadet Brecht had talked into the piloting the Ragnarok for them was refusing to talk.
There had been no word yet from Quistis, Seifer, or Adrian.
It was obvious that Carson had gone after them. Or, rather, her.
Cid sighed. Carson was in direct defiance of an order. And there was nothing Cid could do to prevent the disciplinary action that was bound to take place when the instructor showed up again. At the very least, the man would lose his position. He'd be lucky to not be thrown out on his ass.
A flimsy sheet of paper sat on Cid's desk, waiting to be signed. The document would strip Brecht of his instructor's license and ban him from teaching at any Garden installation in the world. One the demotion was processed, Cid would then have to consider whether there was even a place in SeeD for Brecht any longer, and he was having a fit of conscience punishing the young instructor for being in love.
He tapped his pen against the top of his desk, playing a steady cadence.
"Cid?" His office door creaked open and the smoky form of his wife peeked in. Her dark hair tumbled about her pleasant, heart-shaped face and her hazel eyes took in his hunched form. "You're working much too hard," she said.
Cid shook his head. "I've got a lot to do."
"You always have a lot to do," she pointed out, clicking the door shut behind her. "Even you need a break sometimes. And besides, you're the boss. You can delegate."
"Do you know what's going on right now?" he asked.
Edea's eyebrows knitted together as she lowered herself into a chair. "No. I don't. Why don't you tell me."
"Quistis and Seifer are missing," he explained, his blood pressure rising. "I sent them to some island in the south sea to track down the monster we think killed that man that washed up on the beach several weeks ago. They haven't checked in since they left. The board is getting ready to write the whole team off as lost. So Carson Brecht stole a vessel to go after them, and he took a forensics student with him who isn't in any way trained for combat."
Edea frowned.
"They could all be dead," he said. "Our children...as close as we'll ever have, anyway."
Resting his chin in one hand, he looked across the desk at his wife. She had come up from Centra to spend a few days with him. It seemed like she was always around during the darkest times. It was a special talent of hers, to know when he needed her even when he didn't. But he wished he could see her during the happy times as well, to share their lives rather than just their sorrows. Sometimes it seemed like all they had in common were these kids, this doom, and this violence.
"When is it going to be over?" he asked.
"What?"
"This." He waved his hand around in a wide arch. "This constant work...this being apart...this stress. This Garden and those kids have fulfilled their duty -- they fought the sorceress and won. So when do we all get to move on?"
"Maybe we don't," she replied. "But, Cid...look at what you've built here. This school, these kids we've raised into beautiful, successful adults. Isn't it worth it?"
"I don't know," he replied, his voice quiet. At the moment, his work felt more like raising prime beef rather than mentoring troubled children.
Edea shook her head. "Whether you stay here or not, you can't keep going on like this," she said. "It's not healthy."
"My health is the last thing on my mind."
"It should be the first," she countered.
"Well, I don't exactly have that luxury," he snapped, feeling misunderstood and under appreciated. Edea knew only the sheltered world of her orphanage by the sea, saw only the beginning of these children's lives. She never had to deal with their end, never had to be the one responsible for their deaths.
Her lithe body shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "Cid..." she began, her voice low. "I'm worried about you."
Grimacing, Cid waved a hand. "Please...I have a lot to get done." It was a dismissal, and she knew it for what it was.
"If you really don't want me here, I'll go back to Centra," she replied as she got up. "But I'll wait to see how you feel about it tomorrow. Goodnight." She sent him one long look before hesitantly exiting the room, leaving a stream of fragrance in her wake. Cid loved the way she smelled, loved a lot of things about her. But he couldn't remember the last time he'd slept beside her, or the last time they'd made love.
The moon was glinting against the top of his window pane now. The world was turning, and work was not getting done. Morning would soon breathe light across the earth and find him sitting here on his hands. Picking up his pen, he set the inky tip against the solid line printed across the bottom of his paper. Carson Brecht's reprimand. Was that what he'd been on?
Right. Time to work.
The pen scratched against the paper, tracing out his first name. Mindlessly, he began scribbling his last when halfway through, his hand paused, leaving a blot of ink and a jagged line.
The breath suddenly left his body, creating a vacuum around him. Gasping, he dropped his pen and heard it clatter against the desk as if from a long distance. His shaking hand came up to his chest where his heart was throbbing hard...too hard against the overwhelming weight that had settled across his ribs -- crushing him, tearing him apart.
Edea?
Hyne. Where was she?
Cid tried to call out to his wife. But the moon rolled away and, gasping for breath, he watched the darkness fold in around him.
0 0 0
Seifer sat crouched between Adrian and Brecht, watching as Carson carved a battle plan into a small patch of bare dirt. None of them could see it well as Carson's own shadow obscured most of the details. Quistis nodded absently, allowing him the luxury of continuing to believe that he was in command, though everyone else knew clearly otherwise. Seifer was glad; he didn't like taking orders from anyone, but given the choice he knew who he'd rather take them from.
"So you two will flank them on this side, and we'll come in with the ship on the other," Brecht continued, drawing circles. "We'll block their exit from this direction and this direction." He sliced several long lines through the blob that was supposed to represent the island. "Than, having them netted, we'll take out all their available means of transportation with the machine gun while you two attack from the rear."
You two. That he meant Seifer and Adrian was clear from the way he pointedly looked up at them from time to time to make sure they caught that point. They were expendable to him. His plan had them taking all the risk while Carson waited in the comfort of the ship with Quistis by his side.
Seifer sat back and said nothing. He was putting up with Brecht for one reason — Leviathan. They'd managed to scrape together a meager amount of water magic, but none of them were as equipped to get them through the forest alive as Brecht. As much as Seifer hated to admit it, they needed him.
"Once that's done…" Carson continued, droning on until Quistis finally interrupted him.
"We can't sit here and strategize any longer," she announced. "It's almost dawn. By the time we're done, they'll all be gone. Let's just get in there and wing it."
"Wing it?"
Seifer thought Brecht's eyes looked like they might actually pop out of his head.
"Quistis…you don't just wing something like this."
"Sure you do," she replied, glancing in Seifer's direction. "We're all capable here of working on the fly. And seeing as these people aren't military, speed is more important than strategy. Let's get in there and get this thing done."
Adrian grunted his approval, and Seifer nodded, throwing the majority vote in Quistis's direction.
Defeated, Carson slammed his hand down on his plan and childishly destroyed it. "Fine," he huffed. "We'll wing it."
Quistis didn't acknowledge his tantrum. Instead, she stood up, dusted off her skirt, and asked, "Everyone ready?"
Seifer and Adrian got up as well, the former lifting his blade so that it glinted in the last of the moonlight while the later folded his hands into fists so that the muscles in his arms bulged.
"Kelly," Quistis said, turning to the petite woman. "You've got plenty of ammunition, so reload in case we need you to come in and help. You'll have to make that judgement. But I'll try to signal you if we need you."
"Gotcha."
"Carson, we need you to stick close to the trees. You're the only one who can quickly get rid of a shadow cat," she reminded him, then clapped her hands together. "Let's move out."
Kelly waded back to the vessel as they walked back into the trees. Carson was walking close behind Quistis who was in the lead. Kelly had found the islanders in a tiny inlet on the eastern coast. It was isolated and protected on both sides by outcroppings of bare rock. A slice of beach running up to the trees was the space they'd have to wage the battle in, and from the forest was the only direction from which they could attack. It wasn't a great situation to be in — the enemy would surely have the tree line covered by men with guns. But Seifer was confident that if they could survive the shadow cats on the way there, the people wouldn't pose much of a problem.
Even with as exhausted as he was, Seifer was looking forward to the fight. Battle was the only thing he'd ever been any good at and he loved it. Still, he wondered why someone like Quistis would chose to stay in this profession. Obviously, she was talented. But she had so many other options. She didn't have to muck around in the dirt and blood with people like him. Sometimes when he really thought about it, SeeD made him feel like a trained junk-yard dog: a dumb brute who'd foam at the mouth on command. But that Quistis chose the same path alleviated that sensation. When he fought alongside her, it felt like a noble profession, like something to be proud of.
They crept quietly through the brush, years of training guiding their steps, harnessing conscious thought. Every leaf and stick was meticulously avoided. Next to him, Seifer could almost feel Adrian bunching with tension. The air was growing thick, making it hard to breathe, as adrenaline dripped like liquid fire into Seifer's veins.
There was no resistance until Quistis stopped them all by putting out one arm. "They're right up ahead," she announced, her extraordinary senses piercing through the thick foliage. "Remember that these are civilians. Take out anyone armed first…anyone who looks like they might be in charge."
Everyone nodded.
"Kelly," she said softly into her communicator. "Are you in position?"
"I'm still reloading," came Kelly's soft reply. "Can you give me a minute?"
"Sorry. We can't wait. We're going in, so join us when you can," Quistis said.
She grabbed her whip then, stretching it out so that it glistened gold in the fading night. Then, with one glance at Seifer, she gave them the signal to attack.
They shot out onto the beach in a blind rush, coming up behind a group of men who were looking out to sea. Quistis's whip wrapped around one of the men's necks, shattering the silence as she pulled fiercely back and cracked his spine. Seifer swung his gunblade with equal fervor, nearly severing his opponent's head, but he pulled back quickly, reticent of the danger of getting his blade lodged in bone.
Blood sprayed, showering the sand and filling the air with a hot, metallic smell. Seifer breathed it in deeply, knowing it well. Blood. Death. It triggered the base, feral animal in him, set him instantly into the mode to fight, to attack.
Men rushed to help their fallen comrades, some of them splattered with the blood from the swipe of Seifer's blade. With a wild roar, he cut them down one by one. His muscles strained as he dove into them, letting loose a river of crimson that coated Hyperion, flying off in terrible arcs every time he swung.
Quistis was using magic, freezing men with an icy blast and then lashing out at them with her whip while they were still prone and groaning in pain.
Then, a woman rose up out of the melee, her dark hair riding wild on the night. "Get them!" she roared. "Somebody kill them! Get the shadow cats!" She was barking orders at anyone who would listen, her lithe legs moving her steadily toward the water and the ship docked there. Seifer watched her out of one eye.
Was she the leader? Or was she just taking charge of the situation because someone had to? He wasn't sure, but he also wasn't going to take the chance and let her get away.
A woman shrieked as she flung herself at him, clinging to his back like a spider. Her weight knocked him to the ground, driving his face into the blood soaked sand and pinning Hyperion beneath him. She dug her fingers into his hair, clawing at him and shoving his face into the ground, intent on suffocating him. Not for the first time, Seifer came to the conclusion that there was no fighter more fearless and creative than a half-crazed women. There were no rules of combat which governed them.
Summoning all of his strength, Seifer rolled to the side, throwing her off his back and onto the ground.
He cried out when her fingers found his face, one of her nails raking hard across his cheek. He felt a warm dribble of blood run down to his chin and a blaze of pain fire across his nerve endings.
He flexed, hitting her hand with his available arm as he fended off a new attacker with his boot heel. It was like fighting a swarm of bees. No one seemed to be afraid of them, and everyone seemed willing to die for the sake of the hive. Then Adrian dove by in a flash, knocking the newest assailant out of the way. The woman screamed and the volume of it momentarily stymied Seifer. A moment later, he collected himself and slammed his fist into her face, shattering her nose. She wailed and scuttled away, her hands cradling her face.
Seifer launched onto his feet.
The battle seemed to be moving in fast forward around him. Waving Hyperion menacingly, he bolted downhill toward the water, using his momentum to take down the two men coming toward him. One he cut down, the other he knocked back with a devastating flare spell.
None of these people were armed. What could they be hoping for here, Seifer wondered, except a massacre? He'd never seen civilians throw themselves into battle like this before. These certainly weren't ordinary people.
He raced down the slope to the bullet strewn vessels. The one that had taken the brunt of Kelly's attack was nothing but a hump of twisted metal now. Supplies from inside had been shredded and had spilled out the side to float in the sea.
Seifer looked amongst the wreckage. He knew he'd seen the woman come this way. If she was their leader, then this was their chance to stop the fight before too many people died, as well as enact retribution for the death of Sascha Maurden, the development of the shadow cat, and the end they'd had planned for Quistis. It was classic hero stuff, bringing about justice in a world filled with chaos and violence and death.
"Looking for me?" She appeared beside him suddenly, like a phantom, and pressed the cold end of a hand gun eagerly against his temple. "I know how you SeeD people work, which is why I want you to know that I'm going to kill you without thinking twice. And it's your body I'm going to send back to Garden as a warning. Congratulations."
Then, the early, bloody dawn came alive with gunfire.
