Trust My Heart
by: Angel Wings Rinoa (Cathy-chan)
Chapter 9: The Grandon Bomber
Gunshots tore the night air of the peaceful city. The citizens watched in horror, rooted to the front of their doors or the back of their open windows, as they watched the violence of Dollet come back to life. Just as if they came back to a night ten years ago, a battle between authorities and a rebellious group broke out in the streets. Yet the SeeDs' opponents had no intention of justice for the common people. They wanted revenge, they wanted the SeeDs' blood. But revenge was not possible that night; outnumbered and cornered at the shore, what they needed was escape.
"Where is it?"
"T-T-That one," the man answered, pointing a shaking finger at a small fisherman's boat docked on a wooden platform.
"Listen carefully and ye won't get killed," the man heard the person holding him instruct. "Ye're going to take me an' them," The gun left the man's temple for a second as the person holding it used it to point vaguely at the men over their shoulders, "as far 'way from here as possible. And if I don' see ye doin' what I told ye, the bullet in this gun's gonna have a nice new home. Understand?"
The fisherman gulped and nodded.
"Good."
He was shoved on to the deck of his boat.
"Now get this thing moving."
"'Ey, boss," one of the farthest men called out.
"What?"
He looked around apprehensively before asking, "Where'd all the SeeDs go?"
"Who cares!?" another man leaping aboard the ship answered. "They didn' catch us, right? S'all that matters. They must've...got lost 'r something."
The dozen men left it to that. With all of them on the boat, the harrassed fisherman sped it through the waters.
"Keep an eye out fer anythin'," their boss spoke. "If we get caught now we're never going to get our plan started. They're still out there. "
"Ye sure, Joseph?"
"Without a doubt. They've got sumthin' planned, I know it."
"Heh, like what?...... 'Ey, 'ey, Jo. Chill! They're not plannin nuthin'! 'Sides, whatever it is, we've got sumthin' better up our sleeve." He fingered a black box with a trigger resting on top.
Without warning, the men near the aft began to scream ravingly. Riotous gunfire pelted the sky like a mocked re-enactment of a fountain. They heard the stealth of steel as it cut through the air and into a screeching man. With each swoosh came the sound of bodies hitting the wooden deck.
"All of these people just to protect that guy. Tsk." A voice sighed behind the corner of a wall. "What a waste."
"Who's there!?" Joseph cocked his pistol and aimed it at the voice.
"This isn't worth getting yourself killed, Atkins." A gunblade appeared followed by a man scarred on the face. He stepped forward, and revealed himself. The tip of his sword glinted and dripped red in the moonlight. His icy blue eyes scanned each of the men's faces. "...Where are you hiding him?"
Joseph stepped forward with his arms up. But he wasn't surrendering. His gun was still firmly in his hand. "Hidin' who? I'm right here. Ye wanna fight me, boy?"
The corner of the Gunblade Specialist's lips lifted in a sneer. "Don't make me laugh! I don't give a damn about what happens to you." He pointed his weapon straight forward, feet together in a unbent stance. "Hand your son over."
"I don' know what yer talking 'bout! Bradley ain't with me." He waved his hand indefinitely to the shore. His arms were shaking a little. He cleared his throat before saying, "He's prob'ly still at Dollet with that SeeD chick."
Slowly he formed an "x" in mid-air with his weapon. "Wrong answer."
Joseph's men were shocked unawares as they suddenly heard their boss holler and fall to the floor, his knee's skin and bone pealed and cracked. It was chaos soon after. But not for the gunblade wielder. He slashed each man one by one without faltering.
He was at the last man standing when the boat took a sudden swing backwards.
A few feet from the boat's fore, Leviathan emerged from the waters. Its scales undulated and shone as it circled the boat. Not too far away an armoured Balamb SeeD boat roared and hovered across the waves.
The gunblade wielder tightened his hold furiously at his weapon. "Squall."
On his feet, Joseph was hollering. Amidst the cries of the sea dragon, the gunblade wielder could hear him shouting and pleading with the same words over and over again in insane desperation.
"No, no!! Get that GF away from me! Leave me alone! Make it go away!"
The armoured boat stopped beside them. As the automatic side-doors were opened, Leviathan was called back by Selphie. She was the second to jump on to the fisherman's boat after Squall.
"...What happened here?" her green eyes widened with horror at the opaque liquid coating the deck. "Who could have done this...?"
Their Commander's eyes were ice-cold and threatening. "Seifer," he spoke in a menacing, quiet voice.
The object of his hatred didn't react. He knelt down and wrenched the criminals' leader off the floor. "Where is he? Where's Bradley!?"
Joseph had changed to a totally different man. He was squirming within Seifer's grasp, muttering to himself. His eyes fixed at where the sea dragon had appeared.
"No....stop him. Get him away from me...Not again! Not again!!...Monster!........Monster!!"
"What's the matter with him?" Selphie asked Zell.
"Must be Guarphobia," he replied.
"....What?"
"Y'know! He has a specific phobia of Guardian Forces."
"...There's such a thing as that?"
"Yep. Very rare though, the phobia. 'Cause it's very rare for a GF to go berserk. The phobia comes from extremely traumatic exposures to one or more GFs."
Selphie smiled. "Thank you for enlightening me, Mr. Know-It-All."
Zell gave her a thumbs-up. "No prob!"
Seifer was still shaking Joseph angrily. "Tell me where Bradley Atkins is!"
Joseph continued muttering, oblivious to everything but the threat of the GF reappearing.
He raised Hyperion to the man's neck. "Tell me!"he shouted, tremors racked his body from a building rage.
Squall grabbed the fist holding Seifer's gunblade. "Stop. He's not going to answer you."
Everyone behind Squall gasped as Seifer plunged his sword one inch from Joseph's ear. He yanked Hyperion out of the wood-work, then began pacing the bloodied floor.
Amazingly, the petrified man didn't even twitch; nothing could shake him out of his stupor.
"Joseph Atkins, you're under arrest for the homocide of Grandon and Grandon Garden's population. And for assisting in the destruction of Balamb Garden. You will be taken to Desert Prison for questioning and..." The commander's voice trailed off. He sighed, it was hopeless stating the man's crimes and rights when he felt nothing whatsoever for his knee. Just taking a quick glance at it made his stomach churn.
"Move out of the way!" Seifer bellowed and shoved at the shaken fisherman. With all of his concentration bent on the shores of Dollet, he manuevered the boat at neck-breaking speed -or as fast as a fisherman's boat could go.
What the hell...? "What do you think you're doing?" Squall marched forward and pulled at his arm, shouting a hands-breadth away from his ear. "We've got him. Stop this boat right now!"
Seifer jerked his arm away. "...Where are you, Bradley?" he grumbled to himself. "You're not getting away from me..."
He was a man obsessed. The boat barely touched the sandy shore when Seifer jumped away and sprinted to the city.
What's gotten into him? Squall thought, bewildered.
"I'm tellin' ye, I didn't kill 'em!" Joseph roared from the corner of the van.
The commander decided to keep him tied to the vehicle's supports until they hand him over to the Prison authorities. He was the only man, beside the fisherman, that still breathed air after Seifer's attack. Of course, the Ex-Knight could have easily killed him if he felt Joseph had no valuable information about Bradley. Squall commanded his SeeDs to spread out in groups of two, find where Quistis and Bradley were hiding and -well, of course, arrest The Grandon Bomber's son, but as for Ms. Trepe....they could decide on the event that they find her. As for the Ex-Knight himself, Squall had a good mind to arrest him for homocide too. However, the fisherman testified for him, saying if Seifer had not shown, he had a strong feeling that the criminals would have shot him at the arrival of their destination.
"Are ye thick-'eaded SeeDs listenin' to me!? I said I–!"
Irvine banged a fist on the metallic seat and shouted back at the shackled man. "Shut up, will ya? We heard, we heard!" He turned to the commander. "Jeez, Squall! Can't you let me gag this asshole?"
"I've told you, we need him to talk," he answered evenly. The notorious bomber kept bellowing that he was innocent. The commander placed a hand on his poor, throbbing temple and asked, "How did it go?"
"Pretty well. Turns out my gut feelings're right. I have seen Seifer and Bradley together before." He fished out a collection of papers the pig-tailed librarian and Zell helped him put together. "Thanks to Mr. Know-It-All and the librarian, I got the logs and reports from Galbadia Garden."
Squall skimmed through the papers. "When's this from?"
"Three years ago."
"And you saw the two together?"
Irvine twisted his mouth to one side and made a small, thoughtful sound. "...Wouldn't say they were 'together' together. You know?"
"No." Squall's migraine was becoming stronger; the constant clamour coming from their prisoner coupled with Irvine's ill-defined statements were not helping. "Please explain."
"They didn't like each other, that's for sure. Fuujin and Raijin were not chumy with Rad either. But they didn't hate each other, I don't think. Just a mutual erm....dismissal. Oh yah!" He clapped loudly and made Squall wince. "I think I remember what Rad's like back then. Wasn't very loud or wild.....and he was short....smart......I think.....Yep, for sure smart. He was always carrying a thick book. Other than that, I can't remember what his face looked like, but I remember he hanged out with 'em rowdy ones." He looked up at he ceiling of the van, as if he could find his memories lodged underneath a nut or screw. "...Think Seifer and his posse were sent by Headmaster Cid to 'oversee' the SGS class. A few, particular future GF Specialists were gettin' very rowdy –y'know, the ones Rad hanged out with." Irvine rested his black, leather boots on the adjacent seat. He chuckled. "SGS was right next to triple 'S' so I used to drop by their class. I had a few laughs with 'em.They were really rowdy, you know? Definitely way too rowdy for Martine and those jittery seniors at Galbadia."
Squall was now certain his migraine had ruined his brain because he couldn't understand some of the cowboy's words. Futilely, he glowered and asked. "......What?"
"You know, 'rowdy' as in– " Irvine realised what made his leader puzzled. "Oh! Sorry!"
He laughed himself silly, as Squall waited patiently, before explaining.
"SGS is Specialized Guardian Force Studies. And SSS is Specialized Sharpshooter Studies. It was one of those 'innovative' courses only a handful of Gardens like Galbadia and Grandon decided to participate in seven years ago. Didn't last very long, though. Specially SGS."
"Why not?"
"Something 'bout some of the Gardens' style being too inhumane for the Guardian Forces....It wasn't that bad in Galbadia though, at least from what I saw of their training. I heard from one of the SGS students that they had an interesting time going around the world, analysing and uncovering live and extinct GFs."
Irivne was interrupted by the loud thumping of Mr. Atkin's rubber boots on the metallic floor. The loud noise was apparently directed at Squall. "'Ey! Tell 'em Desert Prison guys that I didn't kill all those Grandon people! 'Ey!!"
BANG, BANG, BANG!
Squall's fingers massaged either side of his brow. He ignored (rather tried to ignore) their prisoner as he continued to talk to Irvine. "...And what does this have to do with Mr. Atkins?"
"Y'mean him?" He cocked a thumb at their captive.
"Yes...I mean no. No, the other Mr. Atkins."
"Isn't it obvious?"
"If it was would I be asking you?" Squall replied exasperatedly.
He shrugged casually. "Guess not." He flipped his hat from side to side, while clinking the tip of his shotgun on the wall behind him.
"Can you please stop that?"
"Huh?"
"What you're doing. Stop that."
"Sorry, Squall." He flipped the Stetson deftly back on his head, and planted his feet on the floor. "So like....are you okay, man? You don't look so hot."
"I'll be fine."
He grinned. "Miffed at seeing Seifer again, aren't you?"
"No. Can you continue with what you were saying?"
"No problemo............Where was I?"
"Irvine!"
He raised his palms up in mocked surrender. He grinned sideways. "All right. Sorry! God, Squall. You need to relax. Bet being away from Rinoa's tightenin' you up. Hehehe–! Sorry. Lower your gunblade, man. Relax. I was about to tell you."
His grin made Squall dubious he was 'sorry' about anything.
"As I was saying..." He replaced his boots on the seat. "So like...Bradley was in the SGS class. The reports said that they went on a field trip to Grandon Garden, and Seifer and his posse went with 'em."
He suddenly forgot his migraine. "Mr. Atkins was there when the Garden exploded?"
"Which one?"
"Both of them."
"Yep." Irvine dropped his feet on the floor, leaned his tall form on his knees and whispered, "That's not all too. There's more to it."
Squall shifted to a position similar to Irvine's. He made a gesture with his hand for Irvine to proceed.
"All right. So me, Zell and the librarian were searchin' for tidbits 'bout Rad, right? When we were searching for anything and everything about the day Grandon was destroyed, we found an odd account from a little kid who was there when the Garden and city exploded. He was a junior at Grandon."
"Wait a minute. I thought there were no survivors."
"The kid claimed he was, but he's really small, not even seven yet. Nobody payed attention to what he said until he moved and got himself enlisted to Trabia Garden. Then somebody saw an essay he wrote and took some notice –well, not much. But enough for it to be published somewhere in the back of a Trabia Newsletter."
"What was his essay about?"
Irvine smiled. "'Bout the explosion at Grandon, silly."
"I knew that! I meant what did it say?"
"Hmmm...." he snatched the sheaf of papers near Squall. He leafed through it for a while.
Silence.
"Ah! There it is!" He pointed at a windy paragraph in the middle of a page. "Read that."
Squall did a quick perusal of the summary. Then he had to read it again. His eyes widened. Slowly he said, "Wait, this says that–"
"'EY!!!"
He dropped the papers on the floor, startled and interrupted by the noises Joseph were making by kicking the nearest seat.
"Will you shut up!?" Squall roared viciously.
"I'm tellin' ya! I couldn' 'ave killed 'em 'cause I'd no explosives with me then. I only got 'em bombs when I joined with the other guys. And I didn' know 'ow to Junction with that! 'Ow could I!? I thought they didn' exist!"
It was now the commander making all the commotion. As speedily as the rocking of the van would allow him, he moved to the front of the van and banged repeatedly on the seperation between the passengers and the driver.
"'Ey– I mean hey!" Squall called out to the lower ranking SeeD. His shout was amazingly the loudest of the three passengers. Both Mr. Atkins and Irvine gaped at him, open-mouthed and speechless.
The SeeD was flabbergasted. "...Y-Yes, Commander?"
"Have they found where Seifer is?"
"I...I think so, sir. Ms. Tilmitt was on the com a few minutes ago, telling me she and Mr. Dincht thought they saw Mr. Almasy and two other people head for the Communications Tower."
"That's where we're going."
"Sir?"
"You heard me. To the Communications Tower."
"B-But w-what about?" his head turned uncertainly to their captive.
"He's coming along.....Why're you looking behind you? I said MOVE IT!"
"Y-Yes, sir! I'm very–!"
"And don't say 'sorry.' I've heard too many of those already."
To be continued...
Author's Note: Hehehe, I just realised the thing's called "Communications Tower" not "Statellite Station." :P Well I fixed that. I think I got the names mixed up from another FF game.