No Place Left To Run

By Secera Crystalfire

C2: Violently Red Sunset

The room was dark.

A voice from the shadows, "Someone's coming."

"Who is it?" The question was posed by a calm and self-assured voice.

"See for yourself, Crawford." Naoe Nagi moved out of the way of the computer screen, which was hooked up to a video camera of some sort. The image shown was from the entrance corridor of Crawford's headquarters.

"Weiss? Why is he here?"

"I sense hatred," a third voice interjected. Bright, malicious eyes and fiery orange-red hair glistened with the light given off by the computer screen. "Someone is looking to kill. Want me to deal with him?"

"No, I'll do that," Crawford stated decisively. "I do, however, want you to go greet him."

"Of course. I'll take care of him for you."

"No, just greet him. I need him unharmed."

Schuldich concealed his surprise with a trademark evil smirk. "Sure," he agreed vivaciously. On his way to the door, however, the red-haired German made sure that Crawford saw the doubt written blatantly in his eyes. In a soft but intense voice that only the leader of Schwarz could hear, he added, "Much as I never thought I'd need to say it, I do wonder what you're thinking." Silently, he walked away into the darkness.

Brad Crawford's façade of perfect tranquility wavered for a moment as the words struck him. He knew that Schuldich had been avoiding him lately, but he had hoped and, yes, even prayed that there was some other reason. He could not allow anyone, even the other former members of Schwarz, to know the torment of his mind! His whole being repulsed the idea of others realizing his terrible weakness. And now, now he knew that the inevitable had come to pass.

Being the realist, he was aware that he couldn't have stopped it. However, in the depths of his mind he had hoped. And that hope was now destroyed.

Ran tried the door at the end of the corridor. Like the others, it was locked. Ah, well…he'd just have to break it open…

"No, don't break it," a voice behind him advised. "That won't be necessary today."

"You," Ran spun around to meet his opponent. "This time, I'll kill you all!"

"Kill me?" The voice was mocking. "Even before, you were never able to lay one finger on me. I'm quite confident that you will be incapable of doing so now, in your current state of weakness." To accentuate his words, Schuldich ran his finger along the side of Ran's face in a strangely affectionate manner, wiping away a stray drop of blood left over from the Weiss assassin's most recent fit of coughing. "You've been ill, I can tell. Your mind is so weak, even as I am now I can break into your thoughts with little effort."

Ran stood there silently and unmoving, paralyzed by his enemy's unique power. His eyes followed the German's hand along his face. As Schuldich finally pulled away, control returned and Ran adopted a fighting stance.

"You idiot! Do you still think you can win?!" Schuldich backhanded Ran across the face before the latter could respond. "You're weak!" He hit Ran again. "Your reflexes are so indolent that you can hardly expect to defeat a child!" Ran tensed for the expected blow, but it never came.

"Challenge me again when you aren't diseased. Also, be glad that Crawford has requested that you remain alive. For now." Schuldich turned away, reviewing the scattered thoughts that radiated so unprotected from the former Weiss leader. "Follow me. Aya, isn't it? I'm so bad with names…"

"Why should I follow you?!"

"We are the only ones who can cure your sister." He was gambling on this one, taking his best guess at the meaning of the images in the other assassin's head. Oh well, it was necessary.

The leader of Weiss stared at the arrogant mind reader with malevolence brimming in his eyes. Hating himself for it but hating the alternatives more, he conceded. "I will accept your terms. For Aya."

"Your sister is Aya, too? What a strange family you have…" Feeling relieved and needing to say something, Schuldich reverted to his pretense of amusement.

Aya remained silent.

Yohji looked up sharply at the end of Omi's oration. "So he ran off to kill Schwarz, huh? That's so like him, so senseless! I can't say I'm surprised."

"Yeah," agreed Omi. "There's no way we'll catch up to him before he gets there. I'm assuming he'll go directly to Crawford's headquarters."

"Headquarters? I thought Crawford was an assassin."

"Not anymore. I hear he's gone into politics, and funds a number of research labs besides. Not sure about the other Schwarz members, though."

"Great, another Masafumi." Ken muttered a few expletives.

"Don't think so. He's ruthless, but not so obsessive. Anyway," Omi changed the subject, "I saw Manx. So, she got it too, huh?"

"Yeah," Birman confirmed. "They wouldn't let us come back with her."

There was silence within the group for a moment. Ken broke it with "So, what did you find out?"

"Not much," Omi responded sullenly. "It's an epidemic that no one's ever seen and there's no cure. Almost no one has recovered, multitudes are dying."

Ken slammed his fist down on his chair's armrest. "Damn. No one's ever seen it, and now everyone's suddenly dying of it? It almost seems as though Ran has the right idea. Crawford does have all the necessary equipment to do something like this."

"It's a possibility," Yohji agreed. "I wouldn't feel right if we didn't at least look into it."

"Yes, and we have to go there to save Ran anyway," Ken consented.

"So, what do you think, Omi? Wanna recreate Weiss?"

The youngest ex-assassin awakened from his contemplative daze. "Weiss?" He looked away, at the clusters of people whose emotions flowed almost visibly through the room. Anxiety, pensiveness, extensive fears verging on panic. Intense pain and knowledge of death, and the hatred and irrationality that come with both. Prevailing above all, though, was a love for those who had died and those who still remained. And there was hope. Fragile hope.

Omi hated Weiss. He hated murdering people. But it doesn't matter. If one person's torment can save the multitudes, I will gladly endure any agony. "Yes," he agreed softly.

"Birman? Can-"

"Don't worry, I'll stay here for the others. You boys just get to the bottom of this."

You," Schuldich turned to Aya, "may wait here," he gestured with one hand to the room they were standing outside of. It was a typical office; there was a wooden desk with a chair behind it in one corner. Other chairs and a few filing cabinets were arranged panoramically around the room.

"Wait for what?" Aya asked in a hostile tone.

"For one of us to return. You realize, of course, that we can't let you have free run of the place…" This was the one office that locked from the outside, and that is why Schuldich had chosen it over the others available. "Don't worry, Weiss kitten…someone will be here to get you shortly," the malicious German slipped back outside and locked the door before Aya realized what he was doing. He walked away, wincing at the thought of paying for a replacement door after Aya dented this one, as he most certainly would.

Stupid Crawford, having any interest in the Weiss assassin even for scientific purposes. Ah well, Schuldich couldn't really blame his leader. About a week ago, the Oracle had started having those awful visions. Day and night, they infested his mind and caused agony like he had never known before. Schu, being who he was, ended up sharing the torment of the precognitive until it got to a point that he couldn't handle it anymore. Brad was good at this, Schuldich wasn't. The power of selection did not come with the Mastermind's talent, so he did the only thing he could and began keeping as much distance as possible between himself and the torture called Brad Crawford.

Occupation, unfortunately, didn't agree with Schuldich's method of remaining sane. This had been cause for him to start blocking others' thoughts altogether, almost to the point where he could hear nothing from the minds around him. Only the thoughts of an unguarded mind remained clear to him. In other words, the red-haired German could only discern the thoughts of those with complete innocence or those who were afflicted.

Damn Crawford if the bastard isn't condemned already. He was being irrational and he knew it, but Schuldich was beyond caring at this point. He'd about had enough.

The sunset was violently red, the crimson of blood, and set the tone perfectly for the situation. Farfarello was there to greet the Weiss members as they arrived and he, unlike Schuldich, did not have orders to keep them alive…

End Part Two.

Note of the Authoress: This chapter was somewhat shorter than I'd have liked, I'll try harder next time. Now that everyone is introduced, I can start doing more with this. Hope you enjoyed, please review!