25
The two rebels left then, being escorted from the château by one of the Frenchman's minions. The pair walked into the restaurant, Archangel unnerved by the smirk. He hid it remarkably well, however.
"Ug, am I glad to be out of there." Pyre sighed.
"I agree," he replied. "I am relieved Persephone did not flirt with me this time."
"'This time?'"
Surprisingly, he blushed, but did not answer. Pyre pulled out her cell. After a few moments, she looked to Archangel. "Alright, there's an exit a couple blocks from here that Salvo says we can take." "Arigatou," he replied, taking the lead. After a moment, he paused. "Pyre-san…"
"Yeah?"
"We are being followed."
"I noticed. Who?"
"I am unsure. Call Salvo-san."
Pyre pulled out her phone and hit the autodial for the ship.
"Operator," came Cyclone's cheerful voice.
"Who's following us?"
"I suggest ya both get out fast. It's an Agent."
"Could we make it if we ran?"
"Only one way to find out. Be careful. He ain't actin' like any Agent I've seen."
She hung up the phone and said calmly. "Agent."
"Kuso," he muttered. "Let's go."
"One."
"Two."
"Three!" Pyre called out, and then started to bolt for the exit. He followed her, taking care not to pass her. The Agent's speed also increased. They reached the exit, Archangel kicking in the door.
The phone was already ringing. "Pyre-san, you first!" "Bullshit!" she yelled. "I have the shotgun, I can hold it off longer."
"God damn it, Pyre!" he snapped, grabbing her by the arm and hauling her over to the telephone. Before she could escape his grip, he snatched up the phone and pushed it against her ear.
She snarled a curse at him the moment she exited the false reality of the Matrix. He hung up the phone and dove away as the Agent reached out for him. He watched the "man" warily as the exit signal went off again.
Archangel lunged for the ringing phone, but the agent grabbed the back of his neck and threw him away. The fighter twisted in midair to slam his feet against the wall, launching himself away from the Agent. Why wasn't he using his Desert Eagle?
The Agent was suddenly in front of him, grabbing him by the throat and hauling him off the ground. His grin was twisted, insane as he stared into Archangel's eyes before whispering something and slamming a palm into his chest.
A sharp, sickening pain tore through him, and Archangel was unable to hold back his scream.
Everyone jumped as a scream tore itself from the unconscious Archangel's throat. Red turned to see him spasming violently, and he lunged for the young man, holding him down barely in time -- Archangel's jerking nearly pulled the jack from his neck. "What the hell is goin' on!?" the Irishman bellowed.
Cyclone couldn't believe what he were reading. "That Agent… he's changing Angel's code!"
"How!?"
"I have no fucking clue!"
A flare of coding, and Archangel's back arched as his scream intensified. Had Red not been holding his head and neck down, he would have unplugged himself. The scream stopped without warning, and he went limp. Red didn't let go. "What th' fuck did 'e do t' Wings!?"
"I… don't believe it…."
The pain increased. It felt as though something under the skin of his back was demanding freedom. An indescribable flash of pure agony, and whatever it was exploded from his back. He caught a flash of white before he blacked out.
Rafe's feet slammed against the pavement as he raced for the rebels' exit. He crashed through the door as white wings burst from the Japanese boy's back, shredding his shirt and jacket. Jameson dropped the limp figure to the ground and prepared to steal the boy's wings; Rafe hit him with a full-on blindside tackle, feeling something in his collarbone give as Jameson slammed into the ground.
Rafe gave him no time to recover, grabbing the Agent by his perfect hair and pounding his face against the concrete floor several times before taking the unconscious rebel into his arms and running like hell.
Using a key, he opened a door into the foyer of the château and slipped inside, slamming it shut with one foot. At last allowing his "heart" to slow, he leaned against the door and slowly slid to the floor, still holding the human in his arms.
"Why the hell did I do that?" he wondered aloud, looking at the boy. Fuck, but he resembled Seraph now. Were it not for the difference in facial structure and height, he could have been Seraph before the firewall had lost his wings.
If Jameson could do this….
Rafe's eyes fell on the white feathers stained red with Archangel's blood. Wearily, he carried the human to the library -- Cain and Abel were showing Molly how to spar elsewhere -- and laid him face down on the couch. He winced as he saw the human's shredded back, and left to clean himself up and get the supplies he needed to fix up the human.
This… was not good.
"Send me in after him." Was Pyre's immediate response.
"Won't do any good," Cyclone sighed.
"Like fuck it won't."
"Pyre, take a look at his brainwaves. He's comatose. That agent did something to him."
"But that agent's not going to stop going after him because he's at the Merovingian's!"
"Pyre," came Red's calm voice. "It's the safest place for him to be right now. He can't go anywhere else in the Matrix without attracting Agent attention now."
"I wonder....if that was a normal agent." Poni said at length.
"No," Cyclone replied. "I've seen him before."
All attention was on him.
"In Ireland," he clarified. "He attacked an angel program an' took his wings."
"But why give Angel wings?" Poni asked again. He sighed. "That, I don't know. But the program who saved him is the same one whose wings were stolen."
"So we're dealin with a rogue?"
"I don't know. He reads like an Agent, but…."
"But?"
"The wing-collecting bit. I don't get it at all."
"Now's not the time to be discussing motive!" Pyre cried. "We need to get Angel out of there!"
"We can't do that until he's conscious," Cyclone shot back. "He'll regain consciousness in transit... and last time I checked, you weren't crew on this ship."
"Then go talk to your own operator."
"Everyone shut up." Poni suddenly interjected. "This isn't helpin us." "Wha' can we do?" Red demanded, holding Schwarz close. "We go after him the moment he wakes up, that's what."
He nodded. "And until then?"
"We wait."
"Aye."
Pyre snarled and stalked off to her room. Red watched her go. "You think she likes 'im?" Poni shrugged. "Hard t' say with that one." "You've a point, Poni," Schwarz said softly, "but it could be that she knows that he likes her."
"Aye, even the slowest know that."
"Hey!"
"But it is not usual for the target to realise it, Poni."
"True." She shrugged.
Red reached out, brushing some of Archangel's sable bangs from his closed eyes. "Wings… I'm sorry, man."
***
Rafe looked at the boy for a long moment, brushing his fingers longingly against the white feathers. "I wonder if you could fly…," he whispered, an expression of almost jealousy in his crimson eyes before he rose and strode to the window, staring out into the sky. "Damn it…" He went to look for the Merovingian.
Seconds after he left, Molly walked in, looking for Cain and Abel. She eyed the man on the couch for a long moment, picked up a bloody feather from the floor, then headed for the Merovingian's office, waiting politely by the door until he noticed her.
He opened the door a few moments later, and blinked when he saw Molly standing there. "Yes, Molly, what is it?" She toyed with the blood-stained white feather, then asked, "I'm sorry t' bother you, but who's th' man with wings in th' library?"
"Man with wings?"
She nodded, holding up the feather by the clean edges. "This is his."
"I 'ave never seen it before."
She blinked. "Oh… I'm sorry for buggin' ya."
"Rafael!" he yelled loudly.
Rafe appeared with alacrity -- he'd actually been fairly close by. "Yes?" "What is ze meaning of zis?" He held up the feather. "Eh…," the angel looked carefully at the ceiling, "I was actually coming to talk to you about that…"
"About what?"
"Jameson has struck again… only this time…," it was hard for Rafe to get out. Sheer disbelief, hatred, and envy rolled into one tended to make speaking difficult.
Merv raised an eyebrow. "What?"
"He has… given wings to… no, forced wings upon… a human…."
"Anyone we know?" the Merovingian replied, more intrigued than worried.
"Um, I think he goes by Archangel."
"Him? This web proves to grow more tangled by ze hour."
Girl and angel gave him matching confused looks. "I think the kid is comatose… you could hear him screaming for a mile," Rafe said slowly.
"Zen call Hippocrates to get him patched up... and get ze shackles."
"Shackles?" Molly asked. Rafe gently pushed her down the hall. "Molly, why don't you run along and find the werewolves? And tell Cain that I said to get you trained to use Berettas." She nodded and ran off, successfully distracted. Rafe then turned to the Merovingian. "Why shackles?"
"Why would we let a prisoner run free?"
Rafe blinked. "Prisoner?"
"Yes, Prisoner."
Rafe looked a bit uncomfortable with that, but he went off to do as he was told.
The Merovingian smiled wickedly. "Now, we see just 'ow much his friends truly care about 'im."