Until the End
Chapter 2
Assassination
Ranma Saotome glanced at the phone that had been moved from its original spot and placed onto the dining room table. Three pairs of eyes watched the phone, as if waiting for it to ring.
"He'll call whenever he has something, so we really shouldn't be waiting," Ranma said to the other two. But he still did not take his eyes from the phone.
Akane Saotome looked over at Ranma. "If you really think so then you can go wake up Kagome and Ryoga from their nap."
Ranma nodded silently and got to his feet. He rubbed Akari's shoulders as he went by. Climbing the stairs Ranma wondered what the American government was going to do once they got confirmation on the seventeen prisoners-of-war. A war was likely, especially after what had happened in New York City and Washington. America was at war already, and it seemed entirely likely that they would attack China just to get those seventeen men out alive.
Ranma had his doubts too. What if the American government didn't get confirmation on the whereabouts of the prisoners-of-war? Would they simply think that it was seventeen lives versus thousands? Would confirmation on the existence of the soldiers not come?
Ranma shook his head. If America did not decide to attack China and retrieve their soldiers, than Ranma knew what he had to do. Even if it meant going by himself, Ranma would cross into China and try and find those soldiers himself. He had no illusions about the trip, and it was entirely likely that he would die and not succeed in his mission, but he would have to try. There was no way he could wake up every morning and look himself in the mirror if he did not at least attempt to find Ryoga and those other soldiers.
For the hundredth time in two hours, Ranma wondered if Ryoga was one of the men that numbered the seventeen soldiers inside that prison camp. He devotedly hoped so; Ryoga was his best friend, and the only man that Ranma had known that would so effortlessly throw down his life for him. He also hoped that Ryoga was alive for Akari; she had spent four years mourning over him. Ranma was sure that the only thing that had kept her from ending her life was Ryoga Jr., Ryoga's child.
Ranma's thoughts ended when he opened the door to Kagome's room and saw Ryoga and Kagome asleep. He smiled and walked into the room, sitting down on the bed. He let his hand gently run down the face of his daughter. Her long brown hair was unsettled as it reached down past her shoulders. He shifted his sights to Ryoga Jr. The small boy lay beside Kagome, his face was very serene. Ranma marveled at how much the small boy looked like his father.
He chuckled softly at the memory of the time he and Ryoga had eaten the mushrooms that reduced your age to the height of the mushroom.
How would Ryoga react if he found out that he had a son? Ranma asked himself. Ranma had no idea just how being a prisoner for four years would affect you, and he had no doubt that Ryoga might not be the same person he was when he and Ryoga had first gone to China.
"Oh god," Ranma whispered to himself. He missed Ryoga so much.
===============
General Phillip Sheridan Parker IV marched into the office of the Vice Chief of Staff. He stopped six feet from the desk and saluted.
"At ease," Lieutenant General Howard George said as he returned the salute. He reached into a drawer on his desk and extracted a bottle of scotch.
"Sir, I was just wondering why you asked me to come here?" General Parker asked.
"To celebrate," Lieutenant General George said simply, filling two scotch glasses two thirds of the way before dropping two ice cubes into the drinks. He passed one of the glasses to General Parker.
"What are we celebrating?" General Parker asked, confused.
"Your new assignment," Lieutenant General George said, smiling smugly.
Parker did not respond.
"I just got the word from the Chief of Staff," Lieutenant General George explained. "Do you like North Carolina at this time of year Phil?"
It took Parker a moment to run through all the bases in North Carolina. He decided to take a long shot.
"I'm taking over the Special Warfare School?"
Lieutenant General George looked surprised for a moment but his smug smile returned.
"I just finished talking to Hanrahan and he said that he had recommended you to replace him once he retired next month," Lieutenant General George said.
"Doesn't the job call for a three star?" General Parker asked.
"Normally yes, but orders came down with a DP attached to them."
"What's DP?" Parker asked, confused.
"It means 'Direction of the President'," Lieutenant General George explained. "What it means is that the President himself signed the paper saying that you were to take over the School."
"Isn't that sort of unusual?"
"Yes," General George answered. "President Bush gave a DP once, but that was for the invasion of Iraq."
The Vice Chief of Staff raised his eyes to look straight at General Parker. "The question I have for you, Phillip, is just who you know that can put a piece of paper in front of the President of the United States and get him to sign it."
Parker looked at the ground for a moment. He suddenly raised his eyes back up to meet George's.
"My father may have done something like that General," Parker said. "But I don't have any idea why."
General George leaned back in his chair and let out a deep breath. "Don't trouble yourself on this too much Phil. You can take two days off before you are supposed to arrive at Fort Bragg."
Parker got to his feet and saluted. George returned it, and then extended his hand.
"I had hoped that you would be the man to take over my position Phillip, but that thought will have to take awhile before it becomes reality."
General Parker didn't respond, he turned around and walked out of the office.
===============
The day Kaizo Rimiru died was a beautiful day.
The sun rose early in the morning of December 12, which pleased the emperor of Japan. He walked with his wife to shrine in the Imperial Palace and paid his respects to his elders.
Despite it being winter, the temperature outside was a nice cool zero degrees Celsius. A Monday morning in the middle of December in Tokyo, Japan was quite busy, what with many of the capital's people out in the streets on their way to work or school.
Emperor Rimiru started back from the shrine with his wife at his side. Sakura looked over at him as they walked through the open walkway that led into the main hall of the palace. She gave him a very un-Japanese grin, which he contributed to her attending an American university during her youth.
The emperor loved his empress more than anything in the entire world. He loved her so, that he would compromise everything that he had fought for in his thirty years as emperor just to ensure that she would not have to live through an era of war. He had responded to the American President's letter the other night. In it, he had confined to the President that the Prime Minister of Japan had in fact signed a pact with the Premier of China, and both countries now intended to invade Siberia in order to acquire the untapped natural resources that were in the area. He had outlined his predictions for when he suspected Shizuko and Zhisheng to invade Russia, and as to what the chances of Russian repulsion of their attacks.
There was absolutely no doubt in the emperor's mind that he had committed treason on its most harsh levels, but he did not feel the amount of guilt that he had previously thought he would. He was ashamed of what the Japanese people might think of him if they found out that he had confided in a foreign power instead of them, but he did not feel any shame for what he had done for Japan. Japan was not a world power that leads with an iron fist; it was a nation that gained its power from the intelligence of its people. He could not call himself a man, much less the emperor, if he were to sit back as his grandfather had done before him and allow his country to be consumed by war.
In the last few lines in his letter to President Winnfield, the emperor had written his true feelings.
I must now close this letter with a plea to you, Mr. President. We, the people of Japan, cannot allow ourselves to be lead into a war alongside China, but I fear there is little to nothing that can be done at this point to stop this war from occurring. Japan is long past its days as a military power, and I have a feeling that if Japan is drawn out into a war with Russia, than we will not survive.
The letter was on its way, and now emperor Rimiru would have to wait until the President responded.
The Imperial guards walked a few meters back from the emperor and empress, constantly watching for any type of threat that may materialize.
Emperor Rimiru did not like having personalized guards hovering around the sacred grounds, but there was little he could do about it. In these days, especially after the horrific attacks on America, security and protection were a must for men and women that may be viewed as potential targets for the madmen that tried to change the world for their benefit.
He had not talked to his wife about the events that had occupied his thoughts for most of the week. Diplomatic relations was not the specialty of his wife, but his main concern was that he did not want to worry her.
They entered the main hall and the Imperial guards stopped at the doors. That was one of the things that he had been able to work out with the Imperial security staff. Guards and bodyguards were not allowed into the main area of the Imperial Palace.
"Is everything alright dear?" Empress Makoto asked as soon as they had turned down the first hallway.
"Yes my love," Emperor Rimiru responded as he bent his head down low. The empress, recognizing the gesture, leaned her head upwards and kissed Rimiru on the cheek and very quickly wrapped her arms around his arm. She leaned into him as they continued down the hallway. As they passed through the east window located along the hallway of the east wing of the Imperial Palace, sunlight flooded the room.
The sniper must have been in perfect position to see into the Palace. For the bullet that passed through the east wing of the Imperial Palace's window hit emperor Rimiru directly in the back and passing through his chest. Blood exploded from his wounds and he collapsed to the ground, dragging the empress with him. Glass clattered to the ground as the emperor hit the floor, a grunt escaping his throat before it became filled with blood.
Empress Makoto screamed and turned her husband onto his back, quickly laying her hand on his neck, checking for a pulse.
Emperor Rimiru felt terror grip him as his hands came away from his chest covered in blood. Strangely, he felt no pain, it was almost like he was somewhere else, watching the scene unfold before him. He looked up into his wife's eyes as he felt her press her finger's to his throat. A smile lit up his face as his eye's closed for the last time.
Makoto turned and screamed for help when she failed to find a pulse. She turned back to the emperor and grasped his hand, which was already beginning to turn cold. Looking into his eyes, empress Makoto saw the beautiful brightness that lit up her husband's eyes slowly darken, before finally closing. Tears escaped her eyes and she laid her head against her husband's chest.
Sunlight flooded the hallway and a gentle breeze entered.
A beautiful day indeed.
===============
Prime Minister Shizuko denied to speak with the press about the death of the emperor of Japan. He explained that he was overcome with grief over the death of his friend, and that he needed to make preparations for the funeral.
The empress of Japan had been taken to a hospital, suffering from shock.
Shizuko dismissed the men in his office that were helping him with the planning for the emperor's funeral and asked his press officer that he be left alone for the remainder of the day. After the men left and the Prime Minister was sure that he was alone, he placed a call through to Beijing, China. The person on the other end of the line picked up the phone and asked who the caller was.
"It is done," was Shizuko's response.
===============
The President of the United States arose early in the morning, as was his ritual for Mondays, and walked down the hallway from his room in the White House to the Oval Office, where the Secretary of State was waiting for him.
"We have a problem," Brian Murray said in way of a greeting.
"What's wrong?" President Winnfield asked as he moved behind his large oak desk and sat down in his chair.
"The emperor of Japan was assassinated early this morning in the Imperial Palace as he and the empress were returning from their morning prayer."
"Jesus Christ!" the President of the United States shouted as he slammed his fist down onto the desk, hard enough to slightly crack it.
"I've called the Prime Minister and told him that we will offer any assistance necessary to catch the people responsible for this horrific crime," the Secretary of State said.
"How did it happen?" the President asked quietly as he leaned back in his chair and massaged his temples.
"He and the empress were walking through the Imperial Palace when a sniper shot through the window along the east wing of the building and he was hit in the back. The bullet passed through him and hit his left lung. He died shortly after when his heart stopped beating. They think it must have been from the shock, what with his age and all."
"The empress was with him?"
"Yes sir, she was alone with him when this occurred, and she passed out shortly after the emperor passed on."
"Do we know if the emperor answered my letter before this?" the President asked.
"No sir, but if he did send it, it should be here before the end of the work day," Murray said.
The President nodded and slowly got to his feet. He started for the door, but before he turned the handle completely he turned around.
"I'm going to call the Prime Minister of Japan and express my deepest sympathies," the President announced. "But I know that if I were to call him now, I would rip that sonofabitch a new asshole."
The President opened the door and walked out of the Oval office and down the hall. Before he reached the press room, he turned and regarded a piece of the long hallway.
"Goddamnit!"
President Winnfield slammed his fist into the wall, hard enough to rattle the submachine guns that were hidden in the wall behind a secret sliding cabinet.
===============
Author's Notes: The scene with the emperor of Japan was extremely hard to write. The technique of writing out the opening sentence telling how the section will end up is not an easy thing to do. I had originally intended to have the scene much longer but that proved impossible, at least for me.
I would really appreciate some constructive criticism on how this chapter ended and the scenes. It was the first time I have ever written something like that I want to know if I at least did it right.
A large lack of reviews has dampened the process of my writing, and I'm sure that if everyone would take some time to review this chapter, I can get myself into the writing spirit. Lord knows I don't have much else to do this Christmas without my husband.
Oh well, I just wanted to wish everyone a merry Christmas, or in some cases, a happy Chanukah.
Ranma Saotome glanced at the phone that had been moved from its original spot and placed onto the dining room table. Three pairs of eyes watched the phone, as if waiting for it to ring.
"He'll call whenever he has something, so we really shouldn't be waiting," Ranma said to the other two. But he still did not take his eyes from the phone.
Akane Saotome looked over at Ranma. "If you really think so then you can go wake up Kagome and Ryoga from their nap."
Ranma nodded silently and got to his feet. He rubbed Akari's shoulders as he went by. Climbing the stairs Ranma wondered what the American government was going to do once they got confirmation on the seventeen prisoners-of-war. A war was likely, especially after what had happened in New York City and Washington. America was at war already, and it seemed entirely likely that they would attack China just to get those seventeen men out alive.
Ranma had his doubts too. What if the American government didn't get confirmation on the whereabouts of the prisoners-of-war? Would they simply think that it was seventeen lives versus thousands? Would confirmation on the existence of the soldiers not come?
Ranma shook his head. If America did not decide to attack China and retrieve their soldiers, than Ranma knew what he had to do. Even if it meant going by himself, Ranma would cross into China and try and find those soldiers himself. He had no illusions about the trip, and it was entirely likely that he would die and not succeed in his mission, but he would have to try. There was no way he could wake up every morning and look himself in the mirror if he did not at least attempt to find Ryoga and those other soldiers.
For the hundredth time in two hours, Ranma wondered if Ryoga was one of the men that numbered the seventeen soldiers inside that prison camp. He devotedly hoped so; Ryoga was his best friend, and the only man that Ranma had known that would so effortlessly throw down his life for him. He also hoped that Ryoga was alive for Akari; she had spent four years mourning over him. Ranma was sure that the only thing that had kept her from ending her life was Ryoga Jr., Ryoga's child.
Ranma's thoughts ended when he opened the door to Kagome's room and saw Ryoga and Kagome asleep. He smiled and walked into the room, sitting down on the bed. He let his hand gently run down the face of his daughter. Her long brown hair was unsettled as it reached down past her shoulders. He shifted his sights to Ryoga Jr. The small boy lay beside Kagome, his face was very serene. Ranma marveled at how much the small boy looked like his father.
He chuckled softly at the memory of the time he and Ryoga had eaten the mushrooms that reduced your age to the height of the mushroom.
How would Ryoga react if he found out that he had a son? Ranma asked himself. Ranma had no idea just how being a prisoner for four years would affect you, and he had no doubt that Ryoga might not be the same person he was when he and Ryoga had first gone to China.
"Oh god," Ranma whispered to himself. He missed Ryoga so much.
===============
General Phillip Sheridan Parker IV marched into the office of the Vice Chief of Staff. He stopped six feet from the desk and saluted.
"At ease," Lieutenant General Howard George said as he returned the salute. He reached into a drawer on his desk and extracted a bottle of scotch.
"Sir, I was just wondering why you asked me to come here?" General Parker asked.
"To celebrate," Lieutenant General George said simply, filling two scotch glasses two thirds of the way before dropping two ice cubes into the drinks. He passed one of the glasses to General Parker.
"What are we celebrating?" General Parker asked, confused.
"Your new assignment," Lieutenant General George said, smiling smugly.
Parker did not respond.
"I just got the word from the Chief of Staff," Lieutenant General George explained. "Do you like North Carolina at this time of year Phil?"
It took Parker a moment to run through all the bases in North Carolina. He decided to take a long shot.
"I'm taking over the Special Warfare School?"
Lieutenant General George looked surprised for a moment but his smug smile returned.
"I just finished talking to Hanrahan and he said that he had recommended you to replace him once he retired next month," Lieutenant General George said.
"Doesn't the job call for a three star?" General Parker asked.
"Normally yes, but orders came down with a DP attached to them."
"What's DP?" Parker asked, confused.
"It means 'Direction of the President'," Lieutenant General George explained. "What it means is that the President himself signed the paper saying that you were to take over the School."
"Isn't that sort of unusual?"
"Yes," General George answered. "President Bush gave a DP once, but that was for the invasion of Iraq."
The Vice Chief of Staff raised his eyes to look straight at General Parker. "The question I have for you, Phillip, is just who you know that can put a piece of paper in front of the President of the United States and get him to sign it."
Parker looked at the ground for a moment. He suddenly raised his eyes back up to meet George's.
"My father may have done something like that General," Parker said. "But I don't have any idea why."
General George leaned back in his chair and let out a deep breath. "Don't trouble yourself on this too much Phil. You can take two days off before you are supposed to arrive at Fort Bragg."
Parker got to his feet and saluted. George returned it, and then extended his hand.
"I had hoped that you would be the man to take over my position Phillip, but that thought will have to take awhile before it becomes reality."
General Parker didn't respond, he turned around and walked out of the office.
===============
The day Kaizo Rimiru died was a beautiful day.
The sun rose early in the morning of December 12, which pleased the emperor of Japan. He walked with his wife to shrine in the Imperial Palace and paid his respects to his elders.
Despite it being winter, the temperature outside was a nice cool zero degrees Celsius. A Monday morning in the middle of December in Tokyo, Japan was quite busy, what with many of the capital's people out in the streets on their way to work or school.
Emperor Rimiru started back from the shrine with his wife at his side. Sakura looked over at him as they walked through the open walkway that led into the main hall of the palace. She gave him a very un-Japanese grin, which he contributed to her attending an American university during her youth.
The emperor loved his empress more than anything in the entire world. He loved her so, that he would compromise everything that he had fought for in his thirty years as emperor just to ensure that she would not have to live through an era of war. He had responded to the American President's letter the other night. In it, he had confined to the President that the Prime Minister of Japan had in fact signed a pact with the Premier of China, and both countries now intended to invade Siberia in order to acquire the untapped natural resources that were in the area. He had outlined his predictions for when he suspected Shizuko and Zhisheng to invade Russia, and as to what the chances of Russian repulsion of their attacks.
There was absolutely no doubt in the emperor's mind that he had committed treason on its most harsh levels, but he did not feel the amount of guilt that he had previously thought he would. He was ashamed of what the Japanese people might think of him if they found out that he had confided in a foreign power instead of them, but he did not feel any shame for what he had done for Japan. Japan was not a world power that leads with an iron fist; it was a nation that gained its power from the intelligence of its people. He could not call himself a man, much less the emperor, if he were to sit back as his grandfather had done before him and allow his country to be consumed by war.
In the last few lines in his letter to President Winnfield, the emperor had written his true feelings.
I must now close this letter with a plea to you, Mr. President. We, the people of Japan, cannot allow ourselves to be lead into a war alongside China, but I fear there is little to nothing that can be done at this point to stop this war from occurring. Japan is long past its days as a military power, and I have a feeling that if Japan is drawn out into a war with Russia, than we will not survive.
The letter was on its way, and now emperor Rimiru would have to wait until the President responded.
The Imperial guards walked a few meters back from the emperor and empress, constantly watching for any type of threat that may materialize.
Emperor Rimiru did not like having personalized guards hovering around the sacred grounds, but there was little he could do about it. In these days, especially after the horrific attacks on America, security and protection were a must for men and women that may be viewed as potential targets for the madmen that tried to change the world for their benefit.
He had not talked to his wife about the events that had occupied his thoughts for most of the week. Diplomatic relations was not the specialty of his wife, but his main concern was that he did not want to worry her.
They entered the main hall and the Imperial guards stopped at the doors. That was one of the things that he had been able to work out with the Imperial security staff. Guards and bodyguards were not allowed into the main area of the Imperial Palace.
"Is everything alright dear?" Empress Makoto asked as soon as they had turned down the first hallway.
"Yes my love," Emperor Rimiru responded as he bent his head down low. The empress, recognizing the gesture, leaned her head upwards and kissed Rimiru on the cheek and very quickly wrapped her arms around his arm. She leaned into him as they continued down the hallway. As they passed through the east window located along the hallway of the east wing of the Imperial Palace, sunlight flooded the room.
The sniper must have been in perfect position to see into the Palace. For the bullet that passed through the east wing of the Imperial Palace's window hit emperor Rimiru directly in the back and passing through his chest. Blood exploded from his wounds and he collapsed to the ground, dragging the empress with him. Glass clattered to the ground as the emperor hit the floor, a grunt escaping his throat before it became filled with blood.
Empress Makoto screamed and turned her husband onto his back, quickly laying her hand on his neck, checking for a pulse.
Emperor Rimiru felt terror grip him as his hands came away from his chest covered in blood. Strangely, he felt no pain, it was almost like he was somewhere else, watching the scene unfold before him. He looked up into his wife's eyes as he felt her press her finger's to his throat. A smile lit up his face as his eye's closed for the last time.
Makoto turned and screamed for help when she failed to find a pulse. She turned back to the emperor and grasped his hand, which was already beginning to turn cold. Looking into his eyes, empress Makoto saw the beautiful brightness that lit up her husband's eyes slowly darken, before finally closing. Tears escaped her eyes and she laid her head against her husband's chest.
Sunlight flooded the hallway and a gentle breeze entered.
A beautiful day indeed.
===============
Prime Minister Shizuko denied to speak with the press about the death of the emperor of Japan. He explained that he was overcome with grief over the death of his friend, and that he needed to make preparations for the funeral.
The empress of Japan had been taken to a hospital, suffering from shock.
Shizuko dismissed the men in his office that were helping him with the planning for the emperor's funeral and asked his press officer that he be left alone for the remainder of the day. After the men left and the Prime Minister was sure that he was alone, he placed a call through to Beijing, China. The person on the other end of the line picked up the phone and asked who the caller was.
"It is done," was Shizuko's response.
===============
The President of the United States arose early in the morning, as was his ritual for Mondays, and walked down the hallway from his room in the White House to the Oval Office, where the Secretary of State was waiting for him.
"We have a problem," Brian Murray said in way of a greeting.
"What's wrong?" President Winnfield asked as he moved behind his large oak desk and sat down in his chair.
"The emperor of Japan was assassinated early this morning in the Imperial Palace as he and the empress were returning from their morning prayer."
"Jesus Christ!" the President of the United States shouted as he slammed his fist down onto the desk, hard enough to slightly crack it.
"I've called the Prime Minister and told him that we will offer any assistance necessary to catch the people responsible for this horrific crime," the Secretary of State said.
"How did it happen?" the President asked quietly as he leaned back in his chair and massaged his temples.
"He and the empress were walking through the Imperial Palace when a sniper shot through the window along the east wing of the building and he was hit in the back. The bullet passed through him and hit his left lung. He died shortly after when his heart stopped beating. They think it must have been from the shock, what with his age and all."
"The empress was with him?"
"Yes sir, she was alone with him when this occurred, and she passed out shortly after the emperor passed on."
"Do we know if the emperor answered my letter before this?" the President asked.
"No sir, but if he did send it, it should be here before the end of the work day," Murray said.
The President nodded and slowly got to his feet. He started for the door, but before he turned the handle completely he turned around.
"I'm going to call the Prime Minister of Japan and express my deepest sympathies," the President announced. "But I know that if I were to call him now, I would rip that sonofabitch a new asshole."
The President opened the door and walked out of the Oval office and down the hall. Before he reached the press room, he turned and regarded a piece of the long hallway.
"Goddamnit!"
President Winnfield slammed his fist into the wall, hard enough to rattle the submachine guns that were hidden in the wall behind a secret sliding cabinet.
===============
Author's Notes: The scene with the emperor of Japan was extremely hard to write. The technique of writing out the opening sentence telling how the section will end up is not an easy thing to do. I had originally intended to have the scene much longer but that proved impossible, at least for me.
I would really appreciate some constructive criticism on how this chapter ended and the scenes. It was the first time I have ever written something like that I want to know if I at least did it right.
A large lack of reviews has dampened the process of my writing, and I'm sure that if everyone would take some time to review this chapter, I can get myself into the writing spirit. Lord knows I don't have much else to do this Christmas without my husband.
Oh well, I just wanted to wish everyone a merry Christmas, or in some cases, a happy Chanukah.