Ch 11, Death of an Angel
Squall and Vash drifted towards the palace-like center of the city.
"Our position is a platform that is part of entertainment, inside the government building. We ought to wait until the heads of state leave for the parade so there will be less security left behind for the building before we enter."
They milled around and tried to blend in; it was okay to be observed freely as long as no one recognized them as operatives.
The president came out and gave his rhetoric. They were already used to it from the international address.
Then Seifer emerged, in the company of the Sorceress. "(He's alive? What does that mean?)"
Vash was unaware of the significance to Squall personally but noticed the impassive one had some kind of reaction. "Friend of yours?"
"..." The expression he gave could have withered a green field. "...Do you really care enough to ask?"
"Whoa. Sorry I said anything."
Then came the final addition to the upstairs party. "Shit! What's Rinoa doing out there." Squall just shook his head. They'd find out soon enough.
The boys muttered in confusion as she appeared to bail on everything she believed in. Then she climbed onto the railing....
In shock they recognized what was about to happen. For Squall and Vash, time halted then stretched forwards at a crawl in the flight for life, as it had when the young SeeD candidates strained with everything they had to outrun the Black Widow X-ATM. As the noisome babble of the throng washed away, all they could hear was their own heartbeats and tiny amplified details.
In the crowd below, Vash's pupils narrowed into shocked focus and raced for the balcony. Tunnel vision between himself and the girl linked the two despite the multitudes though he continued swerving through them efficiently. Squall, taken by surprise and appalled by his brashness, cried out something unheard and took off behind him.
Rinoa had gotten to her feet and spent her last moment staring at the heavens. Vash's boots churned the pavement, friction of hard rubber on asphalt kicking up loose pebbles. But the crowd wasn't going to part fast enough. The marksman reached for his gun and drew, raising it against his right shoulder with the barrel pointed upwards. He'd figure out a way through or over the barrier of light when he got there. The generous man was about to frighten any number of people and sacrifice his own reputation if it meant clearing a way through to save the jumper's life. Maybe screaming that he was a psychotic killer would do the trick to get them out of the way, just like in the city in his own world where Death had prepared a meeting for him.
Rinoa leaned into the waiting swirl of air--
--Vash clicked the safety and prepared to fire--
--And Squall plowed into him from behind, a collision enabled by Haste. They went down in a two-man pile of struggle. Vash cried out with fury and bewilderedness; Leonhart hissed, "You can't do that. It would expose us and blow everything." The gunman still thrashed. "We'll make it in time. Trust me! Trust me! Trust me!" he hissed in the outlander's ear.
Vash gave up writhing, simply froze and gaped upward--
--And the swan dive had already continued rotating forward, sending Rinoa crashing headfirst. Arms put up by the physique's reflexes simply fractured first but did not obviate the fatal damage to her neck.
And the Sorceress, walking briskly through the facilities with her knight in tow, noted the pang of impact as the subject of mental influence died. She gave an internal nod of satisfaction, shut off the luminescent wall, and continued on towards her celebration.
"She's dead!" Vash cried, with tears flowing from his eyelids and his glasses fallen and forgotten somewhere. "Even if there was only a chance, a tiny CHANCE, it would have been worth it no matter the cost! She died in front of us and you didn't care!!"
He slugged Squall directly on the jaw, hard enough to knock him down on his rear. Squall grunted and picked himself back up. "It's not too late." Vash glared furiously but together, the two warriors edged, elbowed, and shoved their way through the herd and reached the fallen body.
In most cases a dead body is not pretty. The bishoujo's arms and neck were broken; so was the right side of her jaw and cheekbone. Vash stuck a hand to his mouth, fighting back regurgitation. No matter how many times he saw it, it never got easier. The other SeeD's classes of desensitization training kept him from doing the same.
In the world of science, medical technology accomplishes what is still considered magic to some - - there are plenty of people walking around and raising families today who have already died once before! Hearts stop, anatomy fails, and the human is 'dead' - - until CPR, electric paddles, or transplants restore function. Depending on where you're sitting you can call it "magic" or simply routine.
The brunette gunblader knelt and applied a Phoenix Down as he had done before in the field once or twice since the girl had joined. Caught within time limits, and if damage was within its scope, the tool was able to heal a life.
Its properties repaired the crack to her spine and others, and in a minute she sat up with a dizzy breath.
The first sensations that came to mind besides the turmoil in her own body was the feel of leather against her clutching hands, strong arms supporting her back, and a familiar voice or two. Gradually her body circulated and breathed easily enough for the recovering girl to calm down, and she became aware of pavement beneath and numerous other people in the distance. But her eyes remained clenched shut and she grimly held onto her human life support.
She remembered the open view, the vast air and the wind, the despair and the fall. And human warmth tenderly holding her was even more comforting. At least she was safe now. And in Squall's arms ... why did his jacket feel so hard instead of furry?
She opened her eyes. It wasn't Squall; it was Vash. Squall was standing at a distance.
Vash hugged her like it was the end of the world while she regained her senses. "You're alive."
"Still weak" Squall advised gruffly. But a couple potions, part medicine and part stimulant, would quickly take care of that. The bishoujo retained a slim raised scar the shame shade as her regular skin an inch above the jawline, which would smooth away with time, and that was all.
"I'm fine," Rinoa said glumly. She'd been defeated by the Sorceress, betrayed by Seifer, and ignored by Squall. What next. She tried to get up at least.
Vash helped her to her feet and rebuked Squall for not doing the same. "Give her a break. She died, man."
"So have I. Several times. You pick yourself back up."
The outlander tried to smooth things over with an embarrassed, apologetic shrug.
Rinoa could care less about their bickering. She muttered sadly, "I saw Seifer. He could have helped me but instead he turned me in." Eyes lowered listlessly to the floor and lips were a despondent frown.
Squall was ready with more callous pearls of wisdom. "And you committed suicide. Stranger things have happened."
Suddenly her whole attitude brightened. "Good goddess! That's IT!"
