.Hack: Penance
A .Hack fanfiction by Renfro Calhoun

Disclaimer: Project .Hack isn't mine blah blah blah yackety smackety. Y'know what? I'm gonna break tradition here, just this once. You all know who this stuff really belongs to. I'm making the most of this space! So, uh… in your FACE, disclaimer!

Notes: Happens after the end of Quarantine, and (thoughts look like so!) At long last, we have us some answers! Don't you worry, kind reader, I wouldn't have built it up this far if it didn't have resolution somewhere along the line, and there will be even more answers in Chapter 33, which is also coming soon. Now is the time on Sprockets when we dance!

This chapter done to the tune of: Freedom Fighters OST – Nightfall

Chapter 32 – Hiding in Plain Sight

"Hey, thanks for the help, BlackRose," said Stolls, bowing his head to the slender Heavy Blade. "Really, you guys did good back there. We just might catch 'em napping if this works."

She smiled. "You'd better let me know if you find anything," she mock-ordered, and then in a more serious tone added, "you'll find Aura… right?"

"That's the plan. Someone in the group was running that network, I'd bet my last dollar on it. And don't worry, I'll keep you guys up to speed."

"All right. Good luck, Mr. Stollis!" Turning to Kite, she added, "I'll see you later, Kite!"

Stolls was about to speak, but was completely caught off-guard when the boy's thorny companion gave Kite a quick, but firm hug. His arms enveloped her as well, if briefly, and when they parted both were smiling.

"You too," he replied. "Take care!"

BlackRose gated out, leaving only the cluttered broadway of Mac Anu behind her. Kite turned to face a proud grin from Stolls, and a raised eyebrow from both BT and TamonAdillo.

"Bravo, Hiro man," said Stolls, clapping his gloved hands together. "Bra-vo." He stepped closer, patting the Twin Blade on the shoulder. "I knew you had it in you."

"They just hugged," said Tamon. "What's the big deal?"

"Now, now, this is big," replied Stolls, still facing a blushing Kite. "So what's her name?"

"Um… w-well," he mumbled, fidgeting, avoiding Stolls' eyes.

BT interrupted, stepping partially between the two players. "Come on, you're embarrassing him," she chided. Almost amused, she added, "And besides, don't you have a job to do?"

"Hey, just 'cause we're trying to find out what happened to the most advanced AI ever and confronting soul-destroying evil," he stopped to catch his breath, "doesn't mean we can't have a little fun in the process!"

Tamon eyed him suspiciously. "That sounds rehearsed."

"Thought it up during the meeting," Stolls said out the side of his mouth. "Sue me."

Chuckling, BT shook her head. "Still, I think you should get to it, detective." She gave him a stern look. "Without Aura… who knows what could happen to The World in her absence? We don't even know where she's gone, or if she even is…"

"I know, I know," Stolls interrupted, all humor lost from his face. He took a deep breath, his eyes suddenly focused and severe. "Just trying to stay positive. I got a real bad feeling about this. Waiting on Junichiro and Sato to come up with an address."

"What are you going to do?" Kite asked.

The male Wavemaster closed his eyes for a moment, and took a deep breath through his nose. He then opened his eyes and, as seriously as he could muster, said "Improvise."

Tamon turned away, rubbing his forehead. "Oh, god," he muttered, then snickered almost inaudibly.

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," Stolls replied sarcastically.

"Sorry, sorry," said Tamon, waving a hand towards Stolls. "But you don't exactly have a good track record with that."

BT threw a look at the Long Arm. "I beg to differ," she said matter-of-factly, taking a few steps toward Stolls. There was a tiny smile on her face, enigmatic yet genuine. "Call it a hunch."

Stolls grinned again, somewhat sheepishly. "See, now THAT's a vote of confidence. That'll make all the difference in the world. Case closed right there." He glanced at Tamon. "No thanks to YOUR negative ass, Max."

"Yeah, yeah…" muttered Tamon, hiding a grin of his own.

"All right, I'm gone. Wish me luck!"

Stolls began to log out, but stopped when he heard Kite speak.

"Akira," said the teal-haired warrior with a small, growing smile. "Her name's Akira."

The detective had to fight to keep another grin off his face. Instead he merely pointed at the Twin Blade with his index finger, winking as he signaled the logoff command and The World went black.

"Are you sure this is the right place?"

Squinting through the windshield, Dean shielded his eyes from the sun, staring from one parking lot to another, the latter in front of a seemingly innocuous little internet café – he recalled that as BlackRose's suggestion. Tokuoka and Ichiro had tracked down the source of the IP address, through methods that the latter described as simply 'making a few calls.' The directions to the street address dead-ended near a strip mall in southern Tokyo, leaving him with over two dozen potential businesses to check.

He might have had to, were it not for the silver Range Rover parked in front of the café, between two other cars. Pointing to it, he spoke to Junichiro, sitting in the passenger seat. "Right there. That's one of their vehicles."

The former Cyber Connect employee looked at him. "Well, we followed the directions… but there's no telling what the situation is. How could they use an internet café to pull off something like this?"

Dean reached into the backseat, fishing blindly through his open duffel bag; he produced his camera, taking it out of its leather case and turning it on. "Well," he said, lining up the lens with the Range Rover, "that's what we're here to find out."

As Dean took a picture, Junichiro replied, "You have to admit, there's something really wrong with all this. First they need a hacker to get to Aura, this time they didn't." He thought for a moment, then added, "Of course, we didn't see them get another, that doesn't mean they didn't have one…"

"And we don't know that they actually have Aura," Dean said, setting down the camera. "Like I said, that's why we're here." He turned to Tokuoka. "It looks like they're all in the café. Could you do me a favor and get my cell phone? It's in the glove box."

Junichiro opened and took out the phone, which he handed to Dean. "Who are you calling?"

Dean unbuckled his seat belt. "You see a cell phone," he said, holding up the device in question. "I see a cheap Lo-Jack." He reached again into the duffel bag, this time removing a roll of duct tape. Turning on the power to the phone, he extended the antenna and opened his door. "Be back in a sec. Leave the engine running."

Tokuoka watched as Dean casually stepped out of the car, closing the door and making his way across the lot. (Is he crazy?!) he thought, the detective nonchalantly approaching the silver vehicle. He noticed Dean was being cautious in his step, careful to keep the Range Rover between him and the café window.

(What's he going to do with the pho… wait, a Lo-Jack?) He blinked, the idea becoming clear to him as Dean casually knelt down next to the driver's side of the Range Rover, as if to tie his shoes. (Ohhhh… I get it.) Though he couldn't see the detective, he could almost picture Dean tearing off a length of tape and fastening the phone to the underside of the car. Sure enough, when he stood back up, the phone was gone.

Junichiro smirked. (Clever.)

Dean calmly yet quickly made his way back over to the car, hopping into the driver's seat. His face was a tad flushed as let out a sigh of relief. "All right," he said after a second's pause. "Let's hope it sticks this time. I'll move the car a little more out of sight."

"Wait, what do you mean 'this time?' You've tried this before?"

Dean looked sheepish, even as he shifted into reverse. "Uh… maybe?"

"Maybe?" Junichiro pressed. "What does that mean?"

"Okay, fine," Dean grumbled, "I saw it in a movie once." He pulled out of the parking space, looking over his shoulder to ensure it was clear. "Guy was trying to track a killer's car, so he taped his phone to the underside; the idea was he could get the cops to trace the number."

As the car turned, Junichiro asked "Did it work?"

Reluctantly, Dean said, "No… no, in fact, it didn't. Was still a good idea. I can get Masa to track it once they've stopped. 'course, the real problem is…" he broke off as he stopped backing out, looking forward again.

"How you know when they've stopped," Junichiro finished.

"Bingo… oh, shit! Damn, they're leaving already; better park again, else they'll see us."

Dean finagled the car back into the spot, and both men turned and watched as the Range Rover started to life. Shifting to park, Dean snagged the camera and zoomed in as far as it would allow, taking another picture. Two men now occupied the vehicle; he recognized one as Sato, from the restaurant. "Well, if it isn't the swordsman."

"What did you say?"

The vehicle pulled away, giving Dean a chance to capture the license plate as it turned right out of the lot. "Some joker named Sato's with Felix and his men. Carries around a katana." He turned around, and started pulling other items out of the bag – including his tape recorder. "Looks like another hired helper, but he's got some beef with me, that's all I know."

"Oh, right, you mentioned him earlier," Junichiro nodded. "So, what now?"

"We go and have a look around," said Dean, killing the engine and opening the door.

Together, they stepped out. As Dean locked the doors behind them, Junichiro asked, "What if one of them is still inside?"

"Then I've got just the thing." He walked around the back of his car, shoes scraping against the pavement. Keys jingled as he unlocked the trunk, and he said, "It's a very high-tech, all-purpose detective's tool. Top-of-the-line. Very discreet and all."

Junichiro gave him a dubious stare. "That's a tire iron."

"You don't say."

DING

"Network's down, buddy," said the bored-looking clerk from behind the desk, his face buried in a novel as he reclined in a chair. "We're closed for now."

"Sorry. I just wanted to ask you a few questions." The accent and language were Japanese.

The clerk looked up, through the glare of fluorescent lights across three long two-sided rows of computers, all of which were on but none in use. Across the room stood two men – one American, one Japanese; the former dressed mostly in black, a button-down shirt and matching jeans; the latter more visible attire, a pair of khakis and a short-sleeved blue dress shirt, beneath a lightweight red coat.

Frowning, the clerk dismissed both men with a wave, turning back to his book. "I said we're closed," he repeated in English.

"I'm looking for Monroe," said the American, starting around the rows of computers. "Is he here?"

"Who wants to know?"

The two men got close enough to examine the clerk – a lanky young Japanese man with shoulder-length hair, clad in a gray work shirt and jeans, the former of which identified him as "Yoshiro," and bore the name of the café as well.

"I'd like to ask him what he wanted with Aura."

Yoshiro's blood froze in his veins. He closed his book and looked up at the men; his eyes widened in shock as he got a closer look at the American, and his expression did not go unnoticed.

Dean smiled faintly. "Or maybe I should ask you instead."

"You…!" Yoshiro grunted in surprise, one hand already reaching for the phone.

He never got close. Dean released the head of the iron, which he'd been palming, the shaft concealed in his sleeve; before Yoshi's fingers could get anywhere near the receiver, Dean brought the tool down hard on his arm, causing him to cry out in pain and fall backwards, the chair tipping over and spilling him onto the floor.

"Bad move, my friend," said Dean, rounding the counter. "June, lock the door, would ya?"

Footsteps retreated to the front of the store as Junichiro complied. Yoshiro stared at Dean, clearly frightened, nursing his arm.

"I'm not gonna screw around with you." Dean took a step closer. "Just tell me what you did with Aura, and how it involves both Asara and Cyber Connect."

"G-go to hell!" cried Yoshi, scrambling away from the detective. He suddenly reached under the counter, and pulled out a baseball bat, which he waved threateningly towards Dean as he got back on his feet. "Keep away from me."

"You just keep making bad moves." Dean shook his head. "Kid, I'm not exactly brimming with confidence, but you are way out of your league." He narrowed his eyes. "Right now I'm mostly indifferent towards you, your helping commit a felony notwithstanding. You take a swing at me, you better hope it hits because you'll only get one," he started to growl, "and then I'll make sure it's a DAMN long time before you touch a keyboard again, because I will break every last one of your fingers."

The tip of the bat was shaking, Yoshiro's eyes were wide and twitching. He nearly jumped out of his shoes when Dean shouted, "Drop the goddamn bat!"

That did it. Yoshiro cringed and released the bat, which clattered noisily to the black-and-white patterned tile floor. "Okay, okay!" he gasped, backing off with his hands raised in surrender. "Don't hurt me! Th-they, they paid me! They needed a network for something, something to do with 'The World'." Sweating profusely, he added, "A bunch of guys came in, mean-looking guys, I don't know."

"Who was here a couple hours ago?" asked Dean.

"Uh… it was just some kids," he said shakily. "I don't know what the deal was, but they had some kids sign up… said it was…"

Junichiro called from across the room, having listened to every word. "Test your character's skills; Cyber Connect looking for beta testers for newly-developed PC bot programs. Ask Yoshiro Monroe for details." Glancing over at Dean, he pointed to a bulletin board on the west wall. "He's right, looks like they were just using players."

Dean nodded to him. "Figures." Turning back to Yoshiro, he lowered the iron. "So what's your role in all this, kid? You the hacker?"

"No!" he protested. "Well… no, not exactly. It's not what you think. Like I said, they just needed a network, they paid… okay, okay, so I did a little wetwork for them."

"What kind of wetwork?"

Yoshiro looked away shamefully. "Bypassed some firewalls, uploaded some custom character specs… uh, I wrote a hijacker worm for software, and changed some local field settings." He looked back up. "I didn't think it'd hurt anyone, I didn't even know what they wanted. They just came in, said they knew…" he trailed off.

"Knew what?" Dean pressed.

Giving a heavy sigh, Yoshiro continued. "They knew I'd been busted for felony hacking before. My boss doesn't know, they never would've hired me otherwise. They just paid me to keep quiet, and to keep an eye out for… uh, for you, but I didn't… I mean," he fumbled, "I don't even know who you are, or what's going on."

By now, Junichiro had joined the conversation, physically and vocally. "You said you wrote a hijacker worm? That's awfully sophisticated… how did you manage it?"

"Ah, it wasn't just me," he answered. "They even gave me some software; that old guy, Sato, he works for Cyber Connect. He got the basic coding, all I had to do was modify it."

Dean and Junichiro exchanged looks. "What was the software?"

"Uh… something called 'Delphi.' I'd never heard of it before."

Dean did his best to hide his reaction, which was something of shock and horror. "You were about to call a number," said Dean. "What was it?"

"The Park Hotel, in Shiodome. Sato said he was going to meet with some people, and he'd be there for the next couple hours."

Yoshiro started as Dean reached into his shirt pocket, and heard a 'click' as a stop button was pressed on a concealed recorder. "Beautiful," he said with a smile. "Can I use your phone?"

- End of Chapter 32