AN: Now I know that second chapter was probably a little too long compared to the first, but I just had to get that piece written down or I thought I would go crazy! Now this one is of a little more convenient length … I hope. Pardon my seemingly odd way they say or do things... Spent the last three months watching the entire series on Cartoon Network and I didn't even know it was shown on Fox Kids long before. (In short, I'm late for the news!) The first and second parts of this chapter are set a few hours before NS-8 is attacked by the Agency's forces, just so you know. The inconveniences of the time jump writing style… One more thing: if I made either Henry or Terriermon act a little too OOC then I'm sorry. Won't happen again. At least I hope not…
Looking for a Disclaimer? Sorry, none here. Why don't you check out Chap. 1?
Raids, Reunions, and RevelationsTyrano Valley, Level 4 of the Digital World
Friday, 1535 hours, Shinjuku-Tokyo Time…
The wind howled, blowing tiny pink data bits like tumbleweeds past a narrow pathway between two extremely high wilderness cliffs. A boy, protected from the harsh gales only by the clothes on his back, the dull gray trench coat that kept his identity under wraps, and its corresponding large hat, fought the powerful gust, slowly battling his way into the valley, ignoring the signs that spelled impeding danger as a smaller entity, dressed in a similar fashion, followed him. Now any law abiding Digimon, or tamer, for the matter, would know better than to dare to defy the master of this territory that had placed the signs there in the first place, but these two figures were not exactly permanent residents of the Digital World.
Upon entering the ravine between the massive stone structures and ensuring safety from the chaotic tornado that blew outside it, the boy took his hat's rim between his middle and index fingers, and tipped it off, causing his long, uncombed lavender hair to fall to his back, stopping just a few inches short of reaching his waist. He dug into his pocket, procuring an elastic band, and tied his mane into a loose ponytail as his companion undid its own coat, revealing its form to be a somewhat short creature dressed in what appeared to be its own version of a Kendo Practice Suit, its sleeves outstretching its hands. It carried on its back a long unsheathed bamboo sword, the kind used for the aforementioned martial art.
Removing his coat and handing it to his partner, Kai Takamiya turned his attention to the MUD strapped to his right wrist and whispered a command, "Storage Pack Program: Engage." The gadget obeyed and phase shifted into the corresponding object, giving a report of its capacity, "Total Weight Capacity: 100kg, Used Weight Capacity: 36kg, Free Weight Capacity: 64kg." Just what I need, he thought, Lots of extra space. "Hand me the coats, will you, Kotemon?"
The small Digimon complied, and tossed both trench coats over to its Tamer who caught them with his left arm and stuffed them into the gaping hole of the gizmo on his right wrist. The new contents were confirmed, corresponding statistics given, "Used Weight Capacity: 40kg, Free Weight Capacity: 60kg." Kai loved the efficiency at which MUDs worked, so many functioning programs in one tiny object. Network Security Programmers who were getting on with the trend of 'the smaller the better' had synthesized the MUDs in the Digital World around the early 90s. They were thus, in nature, realized programs. As far as he was concerned, his MUD was the only one he knew that was ever brought out of the Digital World.
Being a freelancer had its ups and downs. Kai was very aware of that. Mainly, for him, the ups were being able to enter and leave the Digital World as one pleased, and roam around within it as one deemed fit. Sakamori, thus, giving him ample free time, which he regarded as but just another bonus, rarely called on him. Then, of course, there were the downs. Specifically the fact that he had to be far more cautious than those guys who used Virgin to get into the Digital World, since he didn't have the 'nine lives' that they did. "There are no continues here, my friend," he'd remind himself daily with a line he ripped off from a Konami spy game done by Hideo Kojima, 'Metal Gear Solid', which was currently one of the classics on the aging Playstation console.
"Kai?" his partner's voice caught the 12-year-old boy's attention.
"Yes, Kotemon?"
"Do you think I'll ever reach Mega Level?" this question surprised him a bit, since he never had considered such possibilities in a long while… like since the time they met.
"Why do you ask?" the lack of preparedness for this topic showed in his somewhat unsure voice as it reached his partner's ear. The possibility of Kotemon reaching his Mega Form, i.e. GuardiAngemon was a practically impossible task to accomplish since Kai had a serious ailment that rendered him incapable of Bio-Merge Evolution without risking metabolic collapse. In short, bio-merging with his partner would literally be the death of him.
This plight, however, was unbeknownst to anybody outside this partnership with the exemption of a few trustees, including the man behind Network Security's Special Edition Digi-Battle Card Deck: an NS-1 programmer by the name of Joseph 'Joe' Brown, whose creativity broke the boundaries between 'legal' and 'illegal' cards. Kai had personally asked for his help in his dilemma, since he was the only person that he knew was one you could count on in such a situation. "Option Cards, or Program Cards, there's not much of a difference," the programmer would say, "They're both modify cards. The one thing you should remember when using them is that they work for you and your partner… to strengthen the both of you in order to overcome the enemy."
Not that the International Digi Battle Card Association (IDBCA) was concerned about option cards that deleted entire decks. They were more worried about program cards that supercharged one or more Digimon cards to the point that their power was considered ridiculous. It wasn't like Network Security operatives didn't have their own social lives, although the only ones armed with the NS edition deck were tamers, most of which either had their profiles on the local police's 'missing person case' list, or had their names written on a tombstone under which rested the corpse of someone else for allegedly dying. Kai's situation was the former.
"It's just that…" Kotemon paused, looking down at his little shoes, a frog apparently stuck in his throat, "Do you honestly believe that Mister Brown is capable of programming a modify card that can blast me to Mega Level without requiring the two of us to merge?"
"He's programmed Goliath, Atlas, a host of other unbelievable program cards," the tamer replied, "Why can't he do something like that?"
"Well…" the Digimon trailed off into yet another bout of insecure silence, "Programming a card to become capable of doing something like that is just—" He was cut off by the sound of a rather small voice from somewhere deeper into the valley, "Did you hear that?"
"Hear what?" Kai was too deep in thought to hear it the first time, but upon hearing the voice sound off again, he reflexively turned his head towards the direction of its origin. "Sounds like a little girl screaming," he said with a hint of stale humor in his voice, "Think it might be the Digimon Queen in another mix-up?"
"I doubt it," his partner mumbled, "I don't think she's the kind to scream like a little girl." An idea popped into his head, "Why don't we check it out?"
They took off deeper into the valley. As they neared the source of the noise, a few things became clear to them. One: there was some kind of battle ensuing, and two: whomever that voice belonged to was no little girl. It was small, though. As the partners came even closer, they finally managed to make out what the small voice was saying, seemingly over and over, with a few seconds' worth of intervals between each statement. "TERRIER TORPEDO!"
It had finally hit them at that point. It was a Digimon fighting another Digimon. The source of the voice being identified as Terriermon, a Vaccine type Digimon at Rookie Level whose technique was Terrier Torpedp. The flame-eyed boy's brow rose up at this. The small rabbit-like creature was fighting a Tyranomon head on. "Think we should help him?" came the voice of his partner, "Looks like he's in quite a fix there."
"Nothing wrong in lending a hand," the boy murmured as he pulled out a card from his pack and slid it through the reader of his MUD's D-Arc program which had been activated earlier, "Digimodify! Digivolution! Activate!"
"Kotemon Digivolve to…" Once again, the white digital bands surrounded his partner, reducing it to nothing more than a wire frame of its former self as its physical attributes began to change. Upon completing its metamorphosis, the Digimon cried out its new name; that of its champion form, "Dinohumon!" It now stood quite a few feet higher than its Rookie self, and was dressed in the manner of an Indian warrior, which consisted dirt-colored pants, a blue beaded necklace, and a feathered bandana around his reptilian head. Both of his hands clutched a short sword, while resting in a sheath on his back was a large Zweihander.
"Sic 'im, Dinohumon."
The champion Digimon complied and quickly dashed towards the red saurian, zipping by Terriermon as it did. Stopping but a few feet from the beast, the sword-armed reptile uttered the name of its signature attack, "Lizard Dance!" and launched itself at the Tyranomon. It made contact as it flashed both of its blades outward, quickly followed up by the one in its left hand slicing up from below, which preceded its right-hand sword cutting down, both coming together above the enemy as the finale came as quickly as the first hit, both swords being driven into Tyranomon's skull. The enemy's body quickly began to deteriorate from the head down as Dinohumon removed its blades and reverted to Rookie level, loading the many particles of data as it did. "That was too easy."
"And what's the big idea stealing my catch, huh, mister cool swords?" sounded a small voice, which, judging from the way it addressed Kai's partner, was very angry.
"Your catch?" came the bokken-clad creature's surprised response, "I thought that you were its catch."
"The hell with what you think!" the cream and green horned rabbit retorted, "I had everything under control!" 'Under control' was the last thing one would see the earlier situation if he had seen what shape Terriermon was in. He had been bruised badly and probably needed medical attention, several discolorations of his off-white and light green skin here and there.
"In that shape?" It was Kai's turn to step out of the unknown and ask a question.
"All part of the act," Terriermon dusted himself, and it turned out that those 'bruises' were actually coal markings, "To make me look like a poor and defenseless little thing…" That was when he realized which direction the question had come from and swirled around to lock eyes with its owner.
"That's the first time I've ever seen a Digimon use tactics like that…" the tamer said, "Usually all they do is fight till they're really injured and die of exhaustion."
"Holy mother of—" the horned rabbit cut himself off in mid-sentence, "A TAMER!"
"Surprised to see me?" the 12-year old did his best impersonation of 'The Matrix: Reloaded's' Agent Smith making a comeback, cocking his eyebrow as he did so. He was still a prepubescent and growing boy, thus needing as much humor in his life as possible.
"Look, I don't know how you got in here, but I'm betting my last two cents that you know how to get out." Terriermon's voice became dead serious.
"Why would someone with the likes of you want to get out of the Digital World?" Kotemon asked.
"Because I have a Tamer too… and he's waiting for me. I just know it."
"That would explain why he uses such advanced 'strategies'," Kai mumbled to himself. "So, what's his name?"
"Wong, Henry Wong."
Henry Wong… that name rang a bell somewhere, but the freelance operative couldn't put it. He'd heard that name somewhere before. He knew he did. The only problem was when and where… "Okay… where does he live?" For some reason, the tamer had bet on the Shijuku district. He couldn't have gotten any closer.
"Tokyo city, Japan. The Shinjuku district."
"Fate has a way of weaving things together," the boy commented on the way life was just… too predictable, "In that case, you'd better get ready."
"Ready for what?"
"To leave the Digital World," Kai answered, "Digi-Gate Synthesizer Program: Activate." What was once a D-Arc that was strapped to his right wrist changed its form once more into something that resembled a high-voltage taser, small red bolts of energy darting to and fro between the two tips. Pointing his gadget in a direction where there was a large amount of empty space, he said another command, "Digi-Gate Synthesizer: Engage!" which caused the red bolts to jump off from the device's tips and form the jagged outline of a circle a few feet in front of him. This mere outline had evolved into a tear in the fabric of reality itself, to be more specific on looks, a tear that resembled that which lay beneath the Matsuki boy's hideout, which represented a path into and out of the Digital World.
"Needed a lift? Well, this is it." He heard Terriermon gulp as he led the way, stepping inside. It felt like a dream, going so fast, yet so slow. Time had no meaning within. He knew that Kotemon wasn't far behind, although he hoped that Terriermon was close as well.
"Approaching Digi-Gate Endpoint," a digitized female voice stated, "Please enter coordinates of exit."
The tamer didn't need to enter the exact coordinates, since the computer had a location-save system. Very convenient. "Saved Point 17, Shinjuku Park Fountain."
"Digi-Gate Exit Point confirmed. Please await reality rift crossing in tee-minus five…" He hated having to go through this procedure daily, but at least it was faster than having to stick electrodes up your ass while you waited for the giant cylinder you were in to fill up with green liquid that might just as well be contaminated by uranium. At least he thought it was. He could see a small pinpoint of light coming up fast, and the three of them were going to pass through it very soon…
Wong Residence Front Door, 7th floor, Maikazi Building, (Made it up… anyone mind telling me the real name of the place he lives in?) Shinjuku, Tokyo
Friday, 1650 hours, Local Time…
Henry Wong hated having to answer the door… but that was only half of the story. He hated having to answer the door especially when he had just stepped out of the shower, dripping wet, a towel around his waist being the only form of 'clothing' he had. The doorbell rang again. "Alright! Alright! Hold your horses, will ya?" he cried out in frustration. Whoever had the nerve to disturb his afternoon ritual of getting cleaned up had better have a good explanation for it. He could feel the movement of hundreds of tiny droplets sliding down his arm towards his wrist as he turned the doorknob and pulled the door open. Nothing had prepared him for the sight that he was about to behold.
Standing in front of him, about a foot high, was a small off-white and light green horned rabbit, the very one that had been the object of his dreams for the past five years… a rabbit called Terriermon. He stared at it in shock, frozen in a trance, for a considerable amount of time, until he slapped himself three times to see whether or not he was dreaming… the third of which stung so hard that he yelped.
The Chinese tamer regained his composure and picked the small creature up, placing it on its rightful place: his right shoulder. "I told you I'd come back, Henry."
"But why only now?" he asked his vertically challenged partner.
Terriermon frowned slightly at this, feeling somewhat guilty about not having come any sooner. Then again, the only reason he had come here now was thanks to him… "I'm sorry, Henry. I couldn't find my way out on my own. Someone was kind enough to give me a lift, though."
"Who?"
The Digimon put his finger to his chin, "A tamer. Not one that we know very well, though… although his face did look somewhat familiar. I think I saw it somewhere before." Terriermon had a thing for watching TV, he just couldn't recollect that time when he saw Rika fight against the last opponent she would defeat during last year's championship. That's where he came in.
"So where is he?" Henry couldn't express how he felt about his partner returning, and all the more he couldn't verbally express the need to thank this mysterious tamer who was kind enough to help Terriermon out of the Digital World. He had a feeling that he wouldn't be able to do so. Not with the expression on Terriermon's face.
"You just missed him." The rabbit said.
"So I thought," the boy answered, "Let's get you inside before you catch a cold…" Ironically enough, Henry was the one who sneezed upon saying this. Mainly because all he wore in this air-conditioned environment right now was a peach towel with his sister's name on it. It wasn't that he borrowed his siblings' towels as a habit, or anything. It was just that he couldn't find his today. They must've sent it to the cleaners, he thought as he closed the door.
Meanwhile, two figures walked down the hallway, headed for the elevator, when something that belonged to the taller rang. "You have mail," a digitized female voice sounded. The taller one, a purple-haired boy of about twelve, checked the object that was secured to his right wrist. "Personal Terminal Program: Activate." The device changed shape into what one would look at and consider as a palmtop computer, although the manner in which it was strapped onto the boy's wrist would make him think twice. The sight of his inbox caused him to pout with reasonable intensity.
"What's going on, Kai?" asked his partner.
Kai Takamiya scanned the message, and summarized it, "An automatic emergency bulletin to all non-present operatives sent by Sakamori's personal terminal. NS-8's been attacked by an unknown party which he assumes belongs to the Agency."
"So, are we going in there and taking them out?" Kotemon had something for fighting, although he couldn't put it. Kai always told him that it was a bloodlust, but he preferred to look at it as a kind of love, love for the sweat from exertion, love for the cries of pain that ensued with each hit, love for the excitement it put through him… Okay, so maybe it was, in a sense, bloodlust.
"No… to risky." The tamer considered his options, which weren't that many in the first place. First, which was by far the worst, they could break in through the basement, work their way up, but then probably bring an entire security team down on them. Second, they could try to sneak in, avoiding enemy troops, but then waste time. Last, and so far the most logical, call for help and deal with the situation with it.
"Then what are you suggesting?" the Digimon had either said that out of curiosity, or annoyance. Whichever it was, it didn't matter at the moment, since Kai knew exactly how to answer that.
"We go ask for help." He knew just the place to get it as well: an old friend of Sakamori's. Not that he was still around NS-8 to even care about them. Although true, the man's job was still in the Network monitoring business, and Kai figured that since they, give or take, were on the same side, he could still be a bit benevolent enough to help them.
"And where are we going to get help?" Kotemon had always wondered where his partner's brainstorms came from. One would look at him and think that he wasn't that smart, or he wasn't smart at all. The Digimon's experience with him, however, said one thing clearly as the opening door of the elevator, 'Looks can be deceiving.'
"I know just the place." The freelancer replied, "Follow me," as they stepped into the elevator. He pushed the ground floor button and the elevator close button. The doors met, and they began to move.
"You know, you should really cut it out with the suspense. Tell me where we're going already."
"An old friend of an old friend," was all that was said for the rest of the trip to the ground floor.
Interrogation Room, 15th Floor of NS-8 Headquarters, Shinjuku, Tokyo
Friday, 1723 hours, Local Time…
Director Akira Sakamori had a terrible headache. He didn't know why. As he slowly opened his eyes, though, he got pretty much enough information to make an educated guess. Standing in front of him was a person coated from the chest downward in dull gray plating, somewhat resembling a knight. His head was protected by a helmet whose front and sides were made of heavily tinted bullet-proof glass, its back portion composed of the same plating that covered the rest of his body. Apparently, this person was watching him, since he spoke, "You're awake? Good. Now we can begin the questioning." That was when he realized that he was strapped into the room's only interrogation chair, nice and tight. They were going to use his own methods to question him…
"Who the hell are you?" the voice that left his lips was somewhat drowsy, somewhat drunken, and somewhat unstable. The gas must still have some effect on me… he thought. He could only hope that the Emergency Action Bulletin had gotten out before Virgin was cut off…
"I don't think you need to ask that, seeing as you probably know that answer already." The armored man answered, "Now listen. We believe that you have something that belongs to us. We tried checking all of your terminals, but it turns out that you've 'lost signal'. So let me ask you plainly: Where did you put the CD copy of Project: Toto-Con that you took from us last Wednesday night?"
He knew what he had to do. He had to play along and pretend that he did know something, since in fact, the only thing he did know about it was the fact that Jeri Katou had failed in bringing the CD back. Why pretend that he did? It was to stall, of course. Hopefully, by this time, someone had gotten that EAB and was working out a plan. With this on his mind, he replied as coolly and as dishonestly sounding as possible, "I don't know what the hell you're talking about." The next thing he saw was the back of the man's right gauntlet coming straight for his face. A moment of darkness ensued, followed by a hot, dull pain on his right cheek.
"Wrong answer. Let's try it one more time, shall we? Where is the CD copy of Project: Toto-Con?"
He was now going to opt for the insulting wisecrack. He had to play around with them long enough. It wasn't healthy to give information all at once. He knew the game of interrogate and be interrogated very well, and it was just round two, "Gee, I don't know. Did you try looking up your ass?" Another dull gray blur of movement flashed by his line of sight. This time, though, he felt the sickening sensation that he was going to throw up. He had a pretty much Western style lunch that day… a BLT sandwich with some soda. Speaking of which, he could feel the carbonated drink stirring up bubbles in his stomach.
"Wrong again. Please try to cooperate so that we can finish this as soon as possible, Mister Sakamori," the man half-pleaded.
Once again, the man asked that question. This time he was going for the denial, "I don't know." His interrogator dished out another blow to his gut. At this point, he could feel a viscous substance climb his throat and collect in his mouth. It was disgustingly sour from mixing with his gastric juices and other substances, and he definitely didn't want to keep it there. Instinctively, his mouth wrenched itself open, allowing the rancid flesh-orange mixture to find its way to the cold, white floor.
"I'm going to ask you this question nicely one more time, Mister Sakamori, before I use more… shall we say, 'persuasive' methods. Where did you put the CD copy of Project: Toto-Con?"
He decided to end the play right then and there. The next thing he said was the insistence of denial, the last step before the interrogator would blow his top and probably beat him to death. Like he said, 'before I use more persuasive methods'. "I told you already, dammit. I don't know!"
"Suit yourself, then, Mister Sakamori." The man said, a tone of defeat in his voice, "I didn't want to use this, but since you force me to…" He stood up and left the room, allowing NS-8's Director to get a good view of it. The ceiling and floor were pure white, except the spot where his vomit had landed, walls the same on three sides, with one lined by a one-sided glass panel. He could bet that the guy was talking to whoever was watching him and deciding on what to do. There was no clock, and thus he had no way of knowing what time it was. One would go mad if he stayed in there for too long.
The man came back a few minutes later, carrying a syringe gun and an unlabeled bottle whose contents could be extracted via needle through the layer of skin that topped it. He was going for drastic measures, Sakamori thought. He could easily tell that the man was carrying a bottle of truth serum, whose contents he was loading into the syringe gun. He knew all too well that NS-8's truth serum worked in a matter of seconds, so, simply put, he'd be talking in a matter of seconds. Game Over…
"Alright, Mister Sakamori. I'm giving you one more chance to talk. After that, it's time, so to speak, to drink your medicine."
It wasn't the best thing he could say at the moment, although it was the only thing he could say. "Go to hell."
"So you choose to go at it the hard way, then. Just so you know, the Agency's truth serum formulation is potent to the point that one drop is enough to get a man talking. Add one more, and he won't be talking for a long while… or breathing for the matter. If you know what I mean." Sakamori grunted as the man positioned the tip of the syringe gun to a vein on the inside of his left forearm, "Now I don't know what Network Security's formulation is, and I don't even want to know, but I think that it does go with the standard order of one syringe-full being enough per person, correct?"
He grimaced as the needle pierced his flesh, sending a pressurized dose of truth serum into his blood stream. Soon enough, that dose would reach his brain, and he would be unable to resist answering the man's questions truthfully. That was when he talked, "Yes, it is."
"That's more I like it. Now tell me, where did you put the CD copy of Project: Toto-Con?"
"I don't have a copy of Project: Toto-Con. The operative who was supposed to bring it here was unable to find it after his partner fell."
"And who is this operative?"
As much as he hated giving away information on his operatives, the other side of his brain, the one swimming in truth serum at the moment, felt like it would go to Nirvana if he divulged the tidbits. And he did too, "His name is Hiroshi Yamamoto, and he works for me."
"I see… and where is Agent Yamamoto?"
"I don't know. The last time I saw him was in my office when you bastards gassed us." It felt good to say that. Although the gravity of the situation was dawning on him, fast. They were going to get Yamamoto, question him, and once they got what they wanted, they were going to kill all the people in this building.
"Which of the three companions you had in your office was he?"
"The oldest one… in the suit and sunglasses." He noticed the door open, two more armored men were moving in…
"And the other two?"
"Tamers. The boy's a new recruit, and the girl's one of my best agents…"
"I see… Thank you for your time, Mister Sakamori." He was given yet another blow, this one to the back of his head, which had punched a hole in his bag of consciousness… In short, he was beginning to faint. He felt the straps disappear as the two men picked him up, his interrogator ordering them to bring him to the where they were holding those inside the office in exchange for Yamamoto. The last thing that ran through his mind that moment, was that he had betrayed his men, he had betrayed himself, but worst of all, he had betrayed the Security of the Network…
Lobby, 1st Floor – Metropolitan Center, Shinjuku, Tokyo
Friday, 1742 hours, Local Time…
Kai Takamiya and his partner had just waltzed past the customer service station when a guard had stopped them. "I'm sorry, kid. You can't go through there. Strictly for authorized personnel."
The meddling security staff… he thought as he flashed his identification card in the man's face, "NS-8. This is a matter of Network Security, sir. I'll need to see your boss." He knew, of course, that it wasn't going to do him any good, since the man was either too stubborn, or too stupid, to listen to something as concrete as a badge.
"Oh, so you're with Network Security, eh?" the guard asked in somewhat disbelief about the twelve-year-old boy's claim, "I'm sorry, but orders are orders: No authorization, no entry."
"What do we do now, Kai?" sounded a semi-hoarse voice, "Doesn't look like he's willing to cooperate." The guard turned to see a small creature dressed in what looked like a kendo training suit, the sleeves apparently quite a bit too long for it, since they concealed its hands and had a lot of excess that dragged on the ground.
" Is' at a Digimon?" The man asked.
"Well, it ain't a little tin man, is it? I'm a tamer," the freelancer answered somewhat bluntly, "Obviously, I should have a partner to go with, you know."
"D'uh-huh…" was all the uniformed man could say. In his head, it was a simple equation. Digimon Yamaki = Opposing Sides = Argument = End of the World. "If I told you once, kid, I'll tell you again. You are not an authorized person, and only authorized personnel are allowed entry into the upper levels. Therefore, I cannot allow you to pass simply because you're not authorized."
Kai resorted to the last thing he could think of. He grabbed the man by his collar, brought his face down to his level of height, and whispered harshly into his ear, "Look, mister. This is a matter of Network Security, and I'm willing to go through all obstacles to get my objective done, meaning that I'm going to have to get through you. If you do not step aside this instant, I am going to make sure that I jam my little buddy's bamboo sword so hard up your ass that you'd need specialized medical equipment to help you sit for the rest of your goddamned life!"
The man was very shaky now, and was seemingly hit by a case of epilepsy. Before anybody could say anything else, though, a new voice, rough in its quality, joined the conversation, "Threatening a government employee, now, are we? Has NS-8's methods gotten too bad for their own good?"
The tamer turned his head towards the elevator hall to meet face to face with a blond-haired man in his mid-30s wearing a business suit, his eyes shielded by tinted, wire-frame sunglasses. Most important of all his features, though, was the silver Zippo he clutched in his right hand. "And who might you be?"
"The name's Mitsuo Yamaki," the man coolly replied, "And I run this place. I heard you wanted to see me, so I came down here."
"You're Yamaki?" the boy said as he released the frightened guard from his grip, "I expected you to be somewhat older."
"Sorry to disappoint you kid, but I'm only 36. Now, what is it?"
He approached the man, his voice reduced to a whisper, "Do you think we can discuss this matter somewhere more private? Somewhere like… I don't know… your office or something?"
"Well, since you put it that way, I assume that this is NS-8's highest priority."
"Believe me, the outcome of this conversation could easily spell the difference between NS-8's continued operation, and the compromising of its very existence," was all Kai could say as the trio stepped into the elevator.
Hypnos Division, 12th Floor – Metropolitan Center, Shinjuku, Tokyo
Friday, 1750 hours, Local Time…
The doors to a particular elevator parted, allowing three figures passage into the current story. Hypnos Pacific Chief Mitsuo Yamaki adjusted his sunglasses as they stepped out of the cramped space and into the long hallway, "So, you're telling me that an unidentified party with unknown intentions has invaded NS-8 about an hour ago, and that an emergency bulletin has been sent to all non-present operatives. If that's so, then why weren't you present at the time? On leave or something?"
NS-8 freelancer Kai Takamiya looked up at the older man, "Nah. I'm a freelance operative and rarely go there."
"I see…"
"Sakamori also suspects these guys to belong to the Agency. I'm betting on the same thing." The tamer followed up, thinking of something else to say, "So I was wondering if you could help flush 'em out, you know what I'm saying? Assemble your people and go on an assault."
Yamaki frowned. Apparently, he knew that it wasn't as easy as that, "If what you're telling me is that accurate, and that these men were sent by the Agency, it would take more than an average strike team to take them out."
"Why?"
"The Agency sends its special units, Knight Teams, on their top priority situations to get the job done. What makes these guys superior to most other strike units on this planet is their equipment. They use sate-of-the-art weaponry, not to mention super-tensile ABSA armor to get the job done."
"ABSA?" Kai had heard that somewhere before, he was sure of it. The only problem was that he knew nothing about what it meant.
"Anti-Ballistics Steel Alloy, some recipe the Agency's scientists cooked up to render their infantry forces practically immune to all small arms and all heavy arms with less firepower than an anti-tank round. The only way to get through that is using AP (Armor Piercing) versions of high caliber assault rifle rounds, which, sad to say, Hypnos is short of."
"Wait a second…" something was wrong with the picture. How did a man such as Yamaki, someone who as far as he knew, worked with Network Security before, know so much about the Agency's best-kept secrets? "How in the hell did you know all that!?"
"The answer is simple," Hypnos Pacific's Chief said matter-of-factly as he opened his office's doors and invited the two in, "Before I was recruited by Network Security, I was one of them."
To be continued…
AN: Never expected that coming, did you? I plan to put in more about Yamaki's mysterious past in the next chapter, so hold on. Hope I didn't put in too much freakiness in this, especially Sakamori's err… predicament with his lunch, or Terriermon's pathetic excuse for putting on fake bruises. I've pretty much outlined the whole story in my head so prepare yourselves for more unexpected twists and turns in this little thing I call 'Guardian Algorithm'. For a teaser, I just want to tell you that I plan to put in a 'Yamaki Kicks Ass' scene in the next chapter, and what the hell exactly happened to Ryo to cause him to join the Agency. I ask you, once again, to please review, okay? Oh, and one more thing: I leave you with this short roughly sketched portion of a scene in the next chapter. Don't expect it to be exactly the same, though, it will undergo modifications.
"We don't do this job because we like doing it, Yamaki," The Squad Commander began his lecture, "I don't like using nerve gas on these people anymore than you do, but high command has given its orders." He stopped to receive a transmission from the chopper, which was hovering just above the train, "The cargo has been secured? Good. And the Gas Canisters?" he paused to listen, "I see. Hurry up, Itsuka. The train reaches Sendai in two hours; I want it derailed in half."
"But these people are innocent!" I cried in protest, "What did they ever do to us?"
"You don't get it, do you, Yamaki?" he replied sternly, "Anybody, men, women, children, rich, poor, crippled or not, who has witnessed any of the Agency's activities is no longer innocent. They've seen TOO much and must be silenced!"
That was when I realized, for the first time, how horrible these people were, how unjust the Agency's policies were. Some on this train were barely a year old! How could I live with the knowledge that I had aided in the murder of who could possibly be great leaders, loyal soldiers, diligent and hardworking citizens? Alas, there was nothing I could do. We had orders, and we had to follow them…