As Wars Wage On
Chapter 2: Wish You Were Here
A fist slammed against the metal table loudly. The remaining coffee cups from the meeting that had been held only moments before, tumbled over, spilling their contents onto the floor as well as the table. A man in a black suit raised a quizzical eyebrow at his leader, who's pale face was flushed and his eyes stormy.
"Sir, what are you going to do about..."
"Ian, please excuse us," a black haired man interjected from the door. His black hair hung in front of his eyes and his wrinkled black suit hung from his slim body. "The boss and I have matters to discuss."
"But-"
"Ian, leave!" the man commanded quietly. Gulping, Ian scurried from the room, bowing slightly at Shin on his way out the door. Shin nodded his head at the two guards in the hall way, who quietly moved to block the door from unwanted company.
"How did the meeting go?"
A pair of mismatched cinnamon eyes glared at Shin, before responding with a loud sigh, "The meeting with Elders went as expected; they spoke in riddles and of old laws. The informative meeting did not bode well."
"I assume then, the White Tigers are after the Emo-Ami as well then?"
"Yes, but that is the least of my worries at the moment."
"How can that be the least of your worries? If the White Tigers find the Emo-Ami before us, they will have control over all of the galaxy We will be the first people killed, so what in the world could possibly be more important?"
So you think you can tell
Heaven from hell
Grimacing, Spike pulled a manilla file from a stack that sat by his side. He tossed a file to Shin, who caught it before the contents flew into the small pools of spilled coffee. Quietly, he opened the file, and though his face remained stoic, his eyes widened in disgust as the violent images of an older man hanging from an abandoned room, with blood dripping from his empty eye-sockets gazed directly at the camera. He flipped past that picture, only to find himself staring at another picture of a young strawberry-blonde girl, whose face was badly bruised and caved in. Her purple and black left eye, had swollen shut and bulged out. Large gashes trickled down her arms like a winding river.
Groaning, Shin flipped through the pictures, shaking his head at how the gruesome the photographs were. He was not shocked; he had been in the Syndicate long enough to see many of these images in person. He flipped through the file, now just glancing at the horrific photographs. Finally, he set the file down, and stared at Spike, who just raised an eyebrow, before speaking in a tired, drawn voice.
"Do you know how the White Tigers have been getting their information so quickly?"
"Radical Edward has been identified as a member of the White Tigers," Shin said slowly, his eyes drifting back to a photograph of a man lying on his side, his mouth fixed into a silent scream.
"Wrong picture, Shin," Spike whispered as he gently flipped through the photographs until he found one of a smiling, tan faced, long orange haired girl, "That's Radical Ed, and she's seventeen years old."
"She's a beautiful young woman, but I fail to see the problem if she is working for our rivals."
"Even though I despise children, this one was apart of my crew. She left with her father before Vicious and I fought. I had hoped she would stay safe with him, but a few months after everything had settled down, a bounty was placed on her father's head. I found out he accidentally got involved in some of White Tiger's business, and only later did I find out the bounty was placed by the White Tigers. She does not deserve the life in a Syndicate."
Reaching into his pocket, Spike pulled a worn dog-eared picture and handed it to Shin. The same girl, younger smiled brightly in spandex shorts and white shirt. The picture radiated life and innocence, and as Shin glanced at the more recent picture he felt his heart shatter for her. The smile, once so bright and happy, now failed to reach her tormented eyes. In the recent photograph, her entire demeanor screamed for justice for scars invisible to the eye of the casual observer.
Blue skies from pain
Can you tell a green field from a cold steel rail
A smile from a veil
Do you think you can tell?
"They'd rather kill her than allow you to save her."
"She's already been murdered," Spike sighed again, "But I refuse to allow them to continue to torture her."
Before Shin had the chance to reply, a loud commotion stirred from outside the locked door. A single eruption of gun fire disrupted the bickering from outside, and the door swung open to reveal the two startled guards. A woman stumbled past the two guards. Her tattered black dress revealed bloodied and ragged skin. Blood trickled down to the already stained carpet. The gun thumped to the carpeted floor, and the woman's maroon-black hair stuck to a wide gash on the side of her face. Her unfocused green eyes locked with Spike's. An air of familiarity struck him, and yet he could not quite place her. Her lips curled into a slight smile, as she mimicked a fake gun, much like he had done as he collapsed down the stair after his fight with Vicious.
She whispered raspily, " I'd told you I'd see you in the end, Cowboy."
And did they get you to trade your heros for ghosts
The woman smile faltered as she pitched forward, her shoulder length maroon hair flying about her face like spilled wine. Clutched in her hand was a small bloodstained envelope, which fluttered to the floor as she fell. Shin jumped to his feet and ran to the girl, but was too late. She collapsed on the floor, her blood pooling around her battered body.
"Someone go bring the doctor up here, now!" Spike commanded, as he knelt down to check her pulse.
Crimson blood flowed over Spike's hands. Quickly he shrugged off his jacket and placed it over one of her many wounds. The blood seeped into the blue fabric of his jacket, and the doctor ran in. His purple eyes were blood-shot and tired, and his wrinkled clothes were hastily thrown on. He glanced at the woman in front of him, and brushed Spike's hands away from her. Lightly, he lifted the jacket from her body, and shook his head.
"We need to get her into one of the sterile rooms. She's got at least three gun shot wounds, from what I can tell, and numerous superficial lacerations. I can not tend to her here."
Gently, one of the guards picked up her limp body. Shin helped Spike up, and Spike wiped warm blood onto his suit pants. Shaking his head slightly, he picked up the stack of files he had yet to go over, and walked out of the door, lost in thought. He knew this woman, he was just not sure how. She seemed so familiar, yet Spike could not place her. He noticed the white envelope lying in one of the puddles if blood, or perhaps coffee, but nodded at Shin.
I feel like I'm drowning
I'm feeling weak now
But I can't show my weakness
I sometimes wonder
Where do we go from here
Ian stood pressed against the opposite side of the hall, slack-jawed and wide eyed, his eyes following the trail of blood that now stained the once pristine carpet. In his hands, he carried a small file to hand to Spike. Spike shrugged his shoulders, as he accepted the file from the shaky boy.
"Get used to it kid, you're apart of the Syndicate," Spike muttered as he sauntered down the hall, before telling Ian, "Cancel the rest of my meetings. Tell them I have unfinished business to tend to."
Ian nodded his head slightly, still gazing down the hall. Shin sauntered out moments later, his wrinkled black jacket slung over his shoulder and the file he had been looking at previously, stuck neatly under his arm, along with the small white envelope. He traced Spike's footsteps to the sterile room, and plopped down in the chair next to him.
He opened the file again, and the picture of Ed stared up at him. He opened the envelope, and Spike watched intently. He inhaled sharply as he saw Ed's trademark happy face scribbled out on a torn piece of cloth, crudely drawn with dried maroon-brown blood, with the simple message:
There is nothing to save.
AN: Hey all, thanks for the reviews! I appreciate it a lot! If anyone would like to be my beta, I would also greatly appreciate it. The songs used for this chapter were actually two songs by Pink Floyd called "Keep Talking" and "Wish You Were Here." I don't really know how I feel about this chapter. To me it felt a bit too predictable, but maybe that is because I wrote it. Anyways, tell me what you think!
StoryGurl17: Woohoo, I've been commanded to finish something! That is awesome! As for your question, OOC means out of character.
