Hey, finally got another chapter done! For over a week I was sick, ugh. That's why it's taken a while to finish this chapter. Oh, and I DO hope you are checking my profile for news and updates on this fic. I try to update once a week. Anyway, on with the story! I hope you find the new characters interesting! I know I do…
Lyrics used: "For Whom the Bell Tolls" by Metallica, off their Ride the Lightning album.
Chapter 14: Identification Unknown
Make his fight on the hill in the early day
Constant chill deep inside…
While Marianne was safe within the mostly steel structure of Balamb Garden, there was quite a lot of activity going on within Deling City, in which she had helped her new found friends flee from.
Wedge and Biggs had made Deling City their home base, while the troops were given orders to split up into squads of three to five men each. Two of them being blockades. No one was to come in or out of this city. Recently after Squall and company had left, there was quarreling between a few Galbadian soldiers and a partially bald man in a grey suit and tie. "But my JOB is all the way to the northeast of here, in Trabia!" he said in a fit. He looked so angry that one of the few men in uniform was sure he was going to pop a vein in his head.
"Can't you just let me through?!" "To make it crystal clear to you, " began a lower rank soldier in uniform. For every two or three soldiers, there had to be an elite soldier to keep them in line and make sure they're doing their job. If otherwise, there would be severe consequences. The one in red watched closely as the patrolman continued his speech. "Our orders were given to make sure no one LEAVES or ENTERS this city." Another soldier joined in to help, being the calmer one of the situation. "It's for your own safety and for the good of this country… Whoever captured Sorceress Edea has to be very dangerous." "I understand and trust you guys to take care of it," said the skinny man in the suit.
What was he going to do? Fight his way through?! If he tried, the soldiers would simply arrest him and confine him in the D-District Prison in the desert nearby the town of Dollet. Well, there was one benefit to all of this. The civilian could always spend more time with his wife and children…
"And the walls within Trabia Garden are very safe. I appreciate your concern for my safety, really," he said, trying to form some kind of negotiation. "We're just doing all we can to keep our fellow citizens out of harm's way," said the elite rank, not making it any easy on the middle aged Trabian instructor. "I'm sorry, but you have to stay here." he concluded, causing the man to sigh heavily in frustration and the small patrol squad watched him storm off away from them down the street…
In the fields outside of Deling City, there were a few more small squads from the Galbadian Army. Three of the best patrollers one side, and randomly picked five to be obligated to watch on the other side for anything. For being temporary dictators, Wedge and Biggs were doing a very good job. They meant serious business, and the rest of the hundreds of soldiers were clueless on what to do. Their original leader was missing somehow, and whoever managed to abduct her was very clever to do so. He or she, like one of the Deling City blockades have said, had to be very dangerous.
"Charlie," a young low ranked soldier called to one of his colleagues. "It must have been quite a mess at Deling's Gate last night." The man who he was talking to nodded. He looked rather tired and grim, as if he hadn't slept at all. "Those Iguion things, or whatever they're called," the man named Charlie said in mid yawn. "Had been crushed by the cement and steel of the structure…" His face squinted into an agonizing look of disgust. What a mess it was by the gate's remains, in the streets! The monsters' blood was spilled out everywhere, seeping out from the broken, once hard and strong cement. The poorly treated, degraded feeling man nearly gagged on the stench, but luckily tied on a piece of cloth around his head, covering the lower half of his nose and entire mouth to help filter the air he breathed. The rain that had begun to endlessly pour had helped in washing up the blood. "Yeah, those were Iguions," corrected the younger man.
Cole Jackson then fell silent and listened to the rest of his story. A teenager at sixteen, almost the same age as Squall Leonhart of Balamb, was very loyal and intelligent for a low ranked soldier. For someone so young, he could be close to getting a small promotion from being treated like cattle like the other lowest rankers. Those were the ones that were just ordered to do what they were told no matter what was going on.
His chestnut brown hair was covered by his metallic grey helmet. Like the other helmets worn, there were also a few rubies on the front for decoration. His darker brown eyes showed courtesy towards the other soldiers around him. He was rather slim, but was strong enough to carry his anything that weighed as much as him. Pretty much, that was his typical job, doing labor.
This field job was something a little different. He just had to use his eyes, and not his arms and physical strength this time. Not that he missed it, but always remained positive on what he was told to do by the higher ranks of the army. Cole told himself that in whatever it was he had to do, it was best for his country, Galbadia. Nobody and nothing seemed to change the way he felt over his services.
"And…" continued Charlie, pausing to yawn again. He was real tired. "…There was red blood all over the place. In short, it was a huge, stinking mess…" He found himself scratching his neck before saying the next statement. Something odd he was about to recall that didn't just confuse him, but his co-workers as well. "Y'know Cole, while cleaning up the rock, there were some of the boulders set up in a line. Some kind of freak within Deling must have a load of free time on his hands…" The elite member of the three person squad looked at him, gray eyes that looked just as serious as Charlie's. "There were some young people down there," the elite said. The tone of his voice caused the lower and less bright soldier feel that he was not of any importance. Like the green grass under their feet.
The higher rank was known as Ahab Strater. Age: thirty-six. Often sided with Jackson, he had recently stationed the younger low rank as second command in case he wasn't fit to give orders or had to be elsewhere. In his spare time, at the bar, on the fields, or just standing around the "cattle," he had observed Cole. The youth never complained like the other labor workers. He never showed any disrespect. Strater even talked with the boy a few occasions. Such a dedicated young man Cole was. Young men like him DESERVE to stay here in the army, he felt. Strong and diligent men like Jackson would go places and get promotions instead of getting the same duties all the damn time. Hell, one of the best might make it to be the next president of Deling City, and having sorcery on your side wasn't even a requirement! Not in Strater's book.
Charlie (formally known as Charles) Etchinson on the other hand didn't say anything or object, because he knew he wasn't the leader type. This man was never to be promoted. Wedge, Biggs, and other elites had told him this, and he believed them. Like Cole, he never complained about being a labor worker. But in the beginning, the way he acted was similar to Seifer Almasy. If only the two knew each other. Instead of just being pushed around and being treated not much like an equal, Charlie would have made it to Balamb Garden's Disciplinary Committee for sure. And if he would have been the same age… Charlie was age twenty six, while Seifer was eighteen. Yes, like Almasy had been, he also had problems with authority.
Etchinson was his own man in charge when he first joined the Galbadian Army. His attitude was something the higher ranks didn't like. The lower ranks had common thoughts. A pain in their asses. Lieutenant Vicktar Lionel, the elite who radioed Charlie by the given codename, was the one who originally began to call him by that name. If "Brick Sack" got out of line, Lionel would be the one to handle him. This elite knew how to take down runts like Etchinson. Adapting to the codename, the majority of the elites would call him by his given codename rather than his real name. The result had made Charlie's cocky behavior vanish. Lionel had caused his self esteem to decrease over those long months he's served in the army.
He took off his helmet for a moment, for the other two to see his short curly red hair. The white's of Charlie's lime green eyes were red due to lack of sleep. After wiping some of the sweat off his forehead, leftover from his last obligation, with one of the sleeves of his uniform, he placed his helmet back on. "Youths, sir?" Cole quirked to Ahab. The elite's stare softened, in contrast to the cold and dull one he gave to Etchinson. He knew the lower ranks often weren't told of anything. Almost felt sorry for the kid. "Yeah, one of them had been trapped within those rocks, according to what I've heard. Can't really know for sure. It could possibly be a rumor." Lionel wasn't around directly at the same place and same time as Strater, but the memory of that night's talk among the other elites have stirred within his tired consciousness. "There might have been a few casualties between the intersection and the gate for all I know…"
"It must have been true," Cole elaborated, figuring out between the two sides of his comrades' stories. He wasn't too smart for his own good, but had often looked in using his own common sense. No one in their right mind would have gone out in the middle of the night during or after the Iguion attacks to set a few of the rocks in a straight line. "And there was more than one person, correct?" His squad leader patted him on the shoulder in encouragement and slight friendship. Shaking his head, he laughed, "Give us a break, Jackson. We've been up and alert all night." Like a father to a son, Ahab had been proud of this bright fellow. Cole revealed a small smile on his face. "I understand sir."
A short amount of silence had spread between the squad. Unlike Jackson, the two older members weren't that talkative. In hopes that he would continue to talk to them to make sure they stayed focused and awake, this wasn't working. The youth made himself not to be of any hassle. If he were, then he could kiss his dreams of getting promoted goodbye.
A few more minutes had passed, but they felt longer. That's the way time usually works, doesn't it? When there's nothing to do, time itself seems to have a mind of its own and just drag on and on, making mankind feel the boredom. When given something to occupy with, time speeds up, making the task unpleasant if there was more than one given to do. Time, the demon of life.
Time's demonic ways have taken advantage of the three standing a round. The sound of gunfire had startled the less awake, followed by yelling. It echoed within a mile radius so all squads outside would hear the ruckus. "What the hell…" Strater cursed, no doubt thinking about the possibility of a low ranker screwing up on the line of duty. Every now and then those sorry excuses for men would make stupid mistakes, one after another. Who hired those idiots anyway?
Cole, using his sense of hearing the best he could, looked off in a direction. "It's coming from the left." Without saying anything, he began to run off in where he believed the sounds were clearest. There was no need for Strater to say, "Let's go investigate," or words similar to that. Ahab was right behind the youth, Charlie one step behind him. Whether it was Strater or the elite in charge of the fumbling squad, someone was going to get yelled at.
Shouting gun, on they run through the endless grey…
In a short sprint, the supposed bumbling idiots were found, but they weren't alone. Hovering in midair a few feet from the ground were two of Gala's ugly kind. Spawn of Hades. Three batwings stretched and spread out. They were rotating at an unbelievable speed. Around the small grey heads they spun. Small yellow slit eyes appeared to be laughing at what they had picked as prey. Well, one squealed in pain after being shot at, so the wings on the injured Buel moved slightly slower. Three long and bony claws stuck out from the wings that rotated on and on from the each of the creatures. The source of magic came from inside those claws. Up close and personal within Gala, rather than just looking from the outside of a television set, Buels were not to be fooled around with!
Ahab pulled Cole back from helping them and used his other arm to prevent Charlie from doing the same. "Let them handle it," he pressed to them both. Without arguments, the blue uniformed ones obeyed. Following an elite's every command was an important rule of being a low ranker. Besides, it was obvious the Buels had been outnumbered, four to two. So they watched.
The less experienced low ranked, about two of them, had tried casting status effect magic spells to make the air raiders less of a threat. Due to their dismay, whatever spell was being thrown at them didn't seem to affect them by much. Only physical attacks seemed to be doing anything in killing the Buels. The faces on their small, gray, and wrinkly skinned heads showed rather deadly looks. From making a mockery of the Galbadian squad of four, came serious business.
On they fight
For they right? Yes, but who's to say?
Rather annoyed of waiting for a feast, the uninjured Buel on the left casted a heavy thunder spell towards the fool with the gun. One of the bony and thin claws pointed at its target and out sprouted electricity. A scream from the human brought satisfaction to them both.
The squad leader had a more powerful gun on his arm, while the attacked one had to carry his automatic weapon. The rest of the group had swords. The already injured Buel was being shot repeatedly as one of the others still standing cured the soldier that had been struck with a Thundaga spell. With another unpleasantly loud cry, the Buel on the right couldn't manage to move its wings anymore. The monster collapsed in a heap of claw and wing onto the wet grass as it continuously stormed around the fight. Cole, Charlie, and the battling group of men whooped and hollered in response, happy to see one of them down.
"Throw a grenade, Carldego! Throw a grenade!" yelled the once injured low ranker as he rose to his feet. The remaining Buel acted like it seemed to understand what the prey was saying and decided to do a physical attack. One of the prey seemed to be fiddling around. A perfect opportunity for the airborne demon to attack! Increasing speed more than ever, it flew backwards a bit, and then slammed its claws through the body of the once living man known as Carldego. "Nooooo!!!" shouted his comrade, in outrage and ran up, sword unsheathed. Big mistake. These hellish creatures were built for speedy and swift flights. But nothing is quick as a bullet fired from a gun. The Buel left over learned that in the hard way before attempting a fatal strike on the charging soldier. BAMBAMBAMBAMBAM!!! The elite finished it off with his arm machine gun before the attacker could even flinch. Both Buels now had the inability to fly. After ceasing fire, the savior of the group commanded, "Leave them to rot for the scavengers. We're finished here."
And as Strater's group moved on, the one that decided to charge the one Buel head one was being called over. "Gillan, get over here!! On the double!" they heard the elite shout while continuing to go back to their post within the rainy plains.
The sky must have been grey for a reason. Must have been some kind of omen, because the Buels' wailing cries were only going to attract more monsters. Cole had realized this, until he heard the sound of gunfire once again. The high pitched shrieking came to an abrupt halt for a moment, but it was only a few calls to the flapping flock of Thrustaevis, eager enough to fly in the rain to smell and hear a meal. White feathers covered their heads, except the curved downward hooks for beaks. These hideous animals often soared the skies in groups like vultures do, but hunted like eagles or hawks, thrusting down on the prey to stun, and use the opportunity to kill with their talons and the weight of their large and dark violet scaly bodies. A rational explanation for how this species received the name. Their wind based magic also came in handy for a mere distraction. Only a few second distraction was needed.
Apart from their heads and scaly dragon-like bodies, there were the two sets of wings. All the better to make a good, stunning blow upon the prey. With half the speed dive of a peregrine falcon on Earth, little time seems to be available for escape when in sight of a Thrustaevis.
This storm, however, decreased the chances in half of the Thrustaevis flock in making a successful hunt, one after another. Strater, Jackson, Etchinson, and the other three living Galbadians didn't hesitate to run as these mutant birds swooped down upon the flightless Buels, and dead human soldier. In a terrifying mix of screeching bird of prey and monster roar, one of them had landed and the once angered soldier known as Gillan was being pursued. The new group of seven had been forced to act upon instincts. These weaklings might as well be scavengers to them, or possibly more prey. In either way, their meals would have to be protected.
Charlie ran ahead to help the two fleeing soldiers to safety, with Gillan trying to catch up with them. The second group of three altogether felt like they just wanted to go back to Deling City. But no, they were given orders to be the other lookout in the front field area outside of the Galbadian Army's home base.
Cole had seen the fellow low ranker, and had to go help him because the monster was dangerously close to biting his head off like a scissors would cut paper. Ahab and Charlie decided to help. In observation of the last battle, one of the men had been killed, and Gillan appeared to be less experienced. Never, ever, run carelessly up to a Buel, or else you'd end up sharing Carldego's fate, were the thoughts of Gillan's squad leader, then focused on the Thrustaevis that was stalking towards him. A few machine gun bullets taught that fiend a lesson in trying to sneak attack HIM.
Jackson had his sword unsheathed the entire time in seeing the Buels and had slashed his adversary's head. The bird screeched very noisily and loud, causing Cole to cover his ears and drop his weapon on to the wet, partial blood stained grass. A red bleeding, diagonal line had appeared on the right side of the Thrustaevis's face. It stung, causing it to become furious. "Dammit Cole!!" shouted Strater, after finishing off the already shot creature that had attempted to sneak attack on the other elite soldier. He aimed quickly and fired. Cole ran out of the way as fast as he could, making sure not to forget his sword. Not enough time. The young, brave, Galbadian hero dived and placed both grey gloved hands over the back of his head as he heard the first few shots of Strater's arm gun. Two Thrustaevis were now dead.
The humans had escaped, seeing that the other five lost focus of them. The smell of blood and the weakening cries of the Buels signaled that it had been time for the flock's breakfast. Their fallen hunting partners would be left behind for other predators or scavengers to feast upon.
Gillan's group had been forced to find another spot to keep watch, meters away from the monsters as Jackson, Strater, and Etchinson went back to theirs. "Are you alright, son?" the head of the trio asked his second in command. In between catching his breath, Cole managed to reply, "Yeah… Yeah, I'm okay."
For a hill, men would kill
Why? They do not know!
Stiffened wounds test their pride…
After a long period of time in knowing this boy and getting to know on how dedicated he was, Strater wished he would have a child just like him, but that didn't mean he loved his children any less. He was a father of two beautiful young women who had turned thirteen about a week ago. The Deling City Parade was his treat to make up for missing their birthday in having to be in service to President Deling on security matters during the special event that had turned into a major disaster. Ahab gave risked his very life to save his wife and kids from the two deployed distractions, the Iguions, that terrorized the city while those bastards managed to win and capture their new leader. Bastards! If he only knew what was to happen, he would have stopped it and protect his family and the other civilians of Deling City. The abductors would be in jail by then, possibly to go through trial and have a set date for their execution.
Strater didn't think the youths were the ones to have been behind on the planned crime, or else they would have fled the city. He was sure his two squad members believed the same thing. They were only helping whoever it was that just happened to be by the gate during its collapse. But…why? Where was that civilian trying to go? Was the person's house on the other side? …Well, it was a possibility to him. It was a matter of time before the entire army would know what the hell was going on…
For whom the bell tolls…time marches on!
For whom the bell tolls…
Wedge and Biggs meanwhile were checking up on the two elites that were focusing on what the army's suspects looked like. Their home base was chosen to be the largest bank of Deling City, meaning all the people who worked there were unwillingly told to quit what they were doing and go home. It wasn't easy, and for the two current leaders of the hundreds of armed men, these people were dedicated to keeping their civilians accounts safe. And they would be, for now. If there came along a time in which high amounts of Gil were involved, then some trusts would have to be broken and sacrificed.
As for the two elites, one of them was Lt. Lionel. The other, a sketch artist who wanted to be alone with him, because for most artists, it was highly distracting and rude to have a group of people looking over your back while trying to draw something. And this guy was pretty good, for drawing a sketched version of a wanted person's description being told to him. Even President Deling agreed and he was the original man to hire Sketch (his nickname) for the job. So he's been at it for a few months now.
Biggs and Wedge came back into the room that the two had been in for quite a little while. It was considered enough time to finish all the sketches of all seven youths that Lionel had seen on the previous night. As a matter of fact, they had just finished and were chit chatting away about the previous events and today's weather. Lionel had stopped talking first as he heard one of the ones in charge clear his throat. On a desk in the middle of one of the office rooms within the bank, Wedge and Biggs looked over the accurate drawings of the youths Lt. Lionel had met for a short time. The hardest to describe had been the young girl who was shaking and cowering behind the man with the blonde hair and scar on his face. It was a bit dark, but the street light from his side of the alley the youths crossed had helped him see her face, in which was what Sketch wanted in drawing for their leaders.
There were wide eyed looks that had washed over the face of Wedge. Particularly of a few of the sketches. The one of a young man with a tattoo of his face, the young dark haired woman drawing, and finally, the one of a stern looking boy with a diagonally left lined scar on his face. The other light colored hair sketch looked familiar too. Biggs had recognized those four as well. "It's those goddamned SeeDs!" Wedge cursed in anger, slamming a fist on the table, causing Sketch to jerk in surprise in his seat. "You…know these people?!" Lionel quirked to Wedge. Biggs answered for his partner. "Yes, and they have caused us trouble in the past with communications tower in Dollet! WHY did you let them escape?!" "Now Biggs, calm down," Wedge spoke, bringing himself to self control. Turning to Lionel, he continued, "The lieutenant here might not have seen them during the Dollet mission." "Correct sir! I would have remembered and radioed for backup if I had recognized them in Dollet," the interrogated one quickly replied in agreement.
Wedge looked over each of the drawn portraits of their suspects once more. He recognized only four of them. He had asked Lionel all about what they were doing out on the streets while those monsters still would have been on the loose. Wedge was tired and grumpy. Too tired to make any accusations just yet, but those particular four people he had pointed out and recognized.
Lionel pointed to the sketch of a girl appearing to be around the same age as the others, with a darkened mark on the left side of her head. A bruise. "That's the shaken up girl they had found within the collapsed gate's remains. Covered in blood she was." Sketch had even drawn the facial expression that Lionel best described. "What the hell?!" Biggs blurted out of the blue. "Those meddling kids are up to no good!" "No, wait!" Lionel back to him, holding up an arm to silence this quick to conclusions low ranker. "She was afraid of me, and using the blonde young man with the scar to hide behind."
Shortly, Lionel and Sketch had been dismissed. From the first interrogation before Sketch had asked Wedge and Biggs to leave him alone so he could focus in drawing the people who Lionel gave vividly clear descriptions of, the two headmen of the Galbadian army got the whole scoop of Lionel's encounter with the suspects. In another office further down this one hall of the bank, there was a copier and scanner with a computer in which they hoped had internet access. When Biggs turned the computer on, they found out they did. Thank Hyne.
As one of the few elite soldiers known to have access to the website which had files of criminal acts recorded from the past arrests, Wedge logged in as Biggs scanned the pictures one by one. The one portrait of the blonde with the diagonally left scar matched to a photo of a juvenile caught two years ago and had an overnight jail time for vandalizing and car theft. Seifer Almasy. So they found out one who one of their suspects were. Too bad, according to the file, he had been bailed from the local Deling City station early the next morning. He was still out on the streets.
Wedge, in his rational line of thinking, thought up a scenario and shared it with Biggs. "Seifer Almasy might have joined these SeeDs and the group must have turned bad because of him." "Yeah, but the brown haired kid, similar scar, seemed to be the leader to me at the communications tower," Wedge's partner and friend pointed out.
Eventually, they had checked the driver's licensing websites and found all the others names through there, after hours of searching and breaks in between. The search lasted into the early evening. It was a long and agonizing search but it paid off. All but one are from Balamb. The long haired young man was one of their own. Traitor…
All but of the sketch of the young woman with the bruise on her head. So perhaps this girl didn't have a driver's license on Gala, and didn't know her name, but at least they had the names of her companions…
For whom the bell tolls…time marches on!
For whom the bell tolls…