Chapter Six

By the time the convertible finally stopped in front of an old and apparently abandoned mansion, Genta and Mitsuhiko felt as though they had been riding for hours. But now that it seemed their journey was at an end, they dreaded what would happen next. They wondered if they dared to try to run away once they were pulled out of the car.

Even if they would have decided to attempt it, they would not have been able to go through with it. As the doors were opened, each was pulled out by one of the men and held tightly as they went up the walk to the house. The boys kicked and struggled, yelling through the gags, but it was not any use. They could not get free. And their panic only increased, remembering the ominous things that the two men had been saying about their boss. What sort of horrible mess had they gotten into now? Would Conan be able to find them in time?

When they reached the porch, a tall, balding man was standing in the open doorway, watching his employees. His eyes glinted when he saw the boys. "Ah, Ayumi's friends," he purred, stepping aside to allow the newcomers to enter. "Welcome, boys."

The two lackeys unceremoniously dumped the children onto the carpet. "We still haven't found the girl, boss," the blonde one said flatly, "but these two figured out that I broke into her house, so I thought it'd be better to grab them for now."

The balding man frowned at their actions and shook his head. "Really, there's no need to be rough on them," he said, bending down to remove their gags. "Of course, you both realize you can't ever leave." He looked into Genta's and Mitsuhiko's eyes and they shrank back, alarmed at the wickedness they saw there.

"Oh yeah?" Genta cried now, in spite of his fear. "Just you wait! They'll realize we're missing, just like Ayumi-chan is, and they'll come looking for us, too!" He smirked, thinking of how shocked this man would be when Conan arrived. If Conan arrived. . . . But of course he would! He would be able to track them. He was probably on his way right now!

"That's right!" Mitsuhiko chimed in. "We're famous detectives! They'll wonder where we are!"

The wicked man grinned, amused. "Detectives, eh?" he said as he straightened up. "How cute."

He looked back to his lackeys, and they stepped back, apparently nervous that he would be angry with them for not finding Ayumi. But then he laughed. It was a cruel, cold sound. "Don't worry about the girl," he grinned. "We'll be getting her soon, and more importantly, the man who lied to me to keep her safe." He started to walk off, presumeably to make further plans for that ill-fated meeting. "Ah, how I will enjoy watching him suffer and die." He glanced back to his minions. "Do show our guests to their room, won't you?" Without waiting for an answer, he continued up the stairs and went into one of the rooms.

Genta and Mitsuhiko exchanged confused looks over the man's words. "What man?" Genta exclaimed as they were prodded along into a first-floor bedroom. "Who's going to die?"

"That's nothing you need to concern yourselves with," the blonde answered, slamming the door shut and locking it.

Mitsuhiko glared at it. "There has to be a way out of here!" he said in frustration.

"It's no use," Genta grumbled, straining against the ropes for the umpteenth time. "We're stranded until Conan finds us!" He plopped on the floor in resignation. "And where could Ayumi be?"

"Wherever she is, it has to be better than here," Mitsuhiko said quietly. He did not know what was wrong with the man whose hideout they were now in, but in his presence the boy had felt a darkness that he had never felt before, from anyone. More than anything, he wanted to be able to get away. And he did not want Ayumi to ever have to come here, either.

Gin was not pleased as he observed the two men dragging the children up to the porch and inside the house. Apparently Ushio had sent his men to collect more victims. He wondered who had been murdered this time.

Upon hearing a soft gasp to his side, he turned to see Ayumi peeking out of the window while trying to stay unseen at the same time. "That's Genta-kun and Mitsuhiko-kun!" she cried before he could scold her.

Vodka stared. "You know them?" he burst out, getting a sinking feeling. There was not any end to this!

Ayumi nodded firmly. "They're two of my best friends!" she said. She could not see the man waiting for them on the porch, but as they went inside, she felt certain that it was the horrible man from the park. She gripped the inside of the door tightly, her knuckles turning white.

Gin growled, lighting a new cigarette. "What would Ushio be doing with them?" he muttered. "Is he trying to lure us out?" This disaster was growing more vexing by the moment. And of course Ayumi would never rest until her friends were rescued. But even though Gin hated what Ushio did, he did not consider himself some sort of champion of justice. That was something he would never be, and he felt, never could be. Still, he knew that he had to deal with all of the consequences of his actions from two weeks ago. And he had the feeling that Ushio was indeed trying to lure them to him. Of course, on the other hand, Gin could have overestimated him and he had just wanted some more "company", and that had been the reason for taking the boys, whether he had known about their connection to Ayumi or not.

Vodka frowned. "Would he think we'd come?"

Gin shrugged. "He might think we've gone soft," he grumbled. "Or maybe he'd just figure that we'd come because it's unfinished business."

Ayumi looked back to them. "We can't leave them with that awful man!" she cried in alarm. "Gin-sama, we have to go help them!"

Gin narrowed his eyes. "You shouldn't call me that," he said then, gazing at the house where the boys had been taken. "I'm not worthy of that kind of admiration." He leaned on the steering wheel now, trying to determine exactly what they should do. If Ushio was trying to lure them there, it was most definitely a trap of some kind. Gin did not know if there were more men inside other than the two who had abducted the boys, plus Ushio himself, but he did know that Ushio had an over-exaggerated opinion of himself. Gin felt certain that it would be Ushio's downfall.

Ayumi blinked at him. In determination she got down from Vodka's lap and went over to Gin, climbing up on the seat next to him. "I think you are," she replied sweetly, and embraced him. He simply stared at her in disbelief, as did Vodka. It seemed that she was always leaving them at a loss for words. "It doesn't matter to me what kinds of awful things you've done," she said now. "If you really aren't good at all, you wouldn't have helped me." To her, it was as simple as that.

Gin continued to gaze at her, not speaking. He was certain that she would not feel that way if she actually did know exactly what he had done during his years with the Organization, but he would not taint her innocence by telling her. He looked away, and Vodka wondered if he had actually seen a semblance of a soft expression come over his features.

But then the phone rang again and he did not have time to think about it further. Quickly he pulled out the communication device and opened it, getting a bad foreboding as he did so. "Hello?" he said into it, and Gin and Ayumi both glanced over, wondering the same thing.

Vodka was not pleased to hear Ushio's voice once more, but he was also not surprised. "What do you want now?" he snapped, growing as visibly angry with him as Gin always did. He had been causing trouble for them all day, and Vodka would be gratified if he never had to see or hear from the monster again.

"Now, now, you're getting as tense as your friend," Ushio retorted, and Vodka knew he was smirking. "I just wanted to call and talk to you about certain things."

Before Vodka could reply, Gin had reached over and taken the phone from him. "Stop playing games!" the blonde snapped furiously. "I'm sick of it. We already know you've taken the girl's friends. What are you planning to do with them? Did you just get bored and decide you needed more "company"? Or are you trying to see how far you can push me?"

Ushio laughed. "Really, I didn't know it disturbed you so much," he replied smoothly. "It isn't your business anyway. It was never your business, but you made it so, and now you have to pick up the pieces." Gin heard a pop in the background that was probably the cork being removed from a champagne bottle. "I want to have a chat with you, and Vodka, and the child. And if you don't come, you can be sure that what will happen to the boys won't be pleasant . . . for them."

Gin cursed him. "Do you think we'd bring the girl in there?" he demanded.

"Yes, I do, actually," Ushio smiled, "because you wouldn't dare leave her in the car, where my men could easily find her. She would be safer with you at the moment, even if you're coming into my web." He laughed again and then there was a pause, as if he was drinking some of the liquor. "And you can't take the chance that I'm bluffing, can you? You say you already know I've got the boys, though I must admit, I am surprised by that. I was calling just now to tell you."

Gin grunted. "Your idea of a 'chat' is going to end up with somebody being killed, but it won't be me," he said coldly. "You've dug your own grave." Without waiting for a reply, he hung up and gave the phone back to Vodka.

The heavyset man could tell that Gin was fuming. "What are you going to do, bro?" he asked, though he already had an idea of what Gin had in mind.

Gin took off the seatbelt and opened the door. "We're going inside," he replied, "and I don't think Ushio will be coming back out." He looked to Ayumi. "I hate to admit that he's right about anything, but you can't stay here. You'll have to come with us, but don't wander away from us under any circumstances. Is that clear?" As he spoke, he drew out his gun and made certain that the magazine clip was fully filled.

She bit her lip, looking worriedly at the gun, but then swallowed hard and nodded in determination. "Okay, Gin-sama," she agreed, as Vodka got out of the car as well. She had to admit, she was a bit afraid to go in, especially when she realized that someone might die. But she wanted to help Genta and Mitsuhiko, and that feeling was stronger than her fear. And she trusted Gin. He would not cause her to have to witness any terrible scenes of violence and bloodshed, if he could at all help it.

It was not long before Conan, Ai, and Dr. Agasa managed to track the boys to where they were. They were approaching the house from the other side, so none of them saw the black Porsche at first. The convertible blocked the view, from their current position. But the house, in all of its ominous majesty, towered very plainly in their lines of vision. It was old, and had once been beautiful, but had since fallen into disrepair. It contained three floors, and on one side it had a large turret that was badly in need of painting. Shingles were falling off the roof, and long piece of wood dangled in front of the porch. It would not look inhabited, save for the fact that several lights were on inside.

Almost before Dr. Agasa had stopped the car, Conan was ready to fly out of it. Just before he could, the professor spoke up. A worry had been weighing on his mind since they had started out, and now that they were here, he knew it needed to be mentioned.

"Remember, Shinichi, you and Haibara look like children," he said grimly as he turned off the engine. "If you're not careful, this Ushio person might try to get the both of you, too." He opened the car door and got out, looking at the house darkly. "It would probably be better to wait for the police. . . ."

"By then it might be too late," Ai answered as she and Conan exited the vehicle as well.

"We'll be careful!" Conan said as he hurried up the sidewalk. As he passed the convertible, he stopped short and simply stared, his eyes widening. It could not be . . . but it was! It was the black Porsche . . . Gin's car. The Black Organization was here.

"What's the matter?" Ai demanded as she caught up with him. But then she saw the car too. Her eyes widened in horror. Why would Gin be here? Had he had anything to do with what had happened to the others? Could she be wrong and his feelings about Ushio's actions had changed, as she wondered? Everything else had changed, so it would not be such a stretch. And on the other hand, perhaps he was merely there to speak with him about something. In any case, she knew that they would have to go inside anyway. But the fear she held over meeting him again, right now, was strong. He would kill everyone connected with her. She was certain of it! And though she tried to force herself to move, she felt frozen to the spot.

"Haibara!"

Slowly she became aware of Conan calling to her. She looked to him, seeing the concern in his own eyes. But there was also determination. "We have to go in there," he told her, and she knew he was right. "We'll stay hidden from Gin." He gripped her shoulders. "The others are in danger right now, if not from Gin, from someone else---this Ushio, if he's here."

She swallowed hard. "I know," she said quietly.

"Let's try around the back," Conan suggested, hurrying through the yard and trying to stay hidden from anyone who might be at the windows. Ai and Dr. Agasa followed cautiously, hoping that the police would arrive before long.

"Do you smell smoke?" Ai asked suddenly as they arrived at the back and found a broken window.

Conan's expression registered alarm. "The house is on fire!" he cried, climbing in through the open space. Now his mission had become all the more complicated. He had to find the others and get them out, before there was not any way left to escape!

After he had been in training for a little over a year, he was introduced to the man who would be his partner in the Organization. He was not told anything about the other operative before their meeting, except that the man's codename was Vodka and that he was a lower-level agent. Over the past year, Gin had worked his way up in the ranks, and he had become one of the Organization's most valuable assassins. He wanted to be controlled by as few people as possible.

He lit a cigarette as he entered the room. He had never smoked before returning to Japan, but when his training had gotten underway, he had started after the first couple of murders. It had began as a way of coping, of calming himself, and by now it was a habit. He was addicted to the blasted things.

He glanced around the room, and after finding only one other person in it, walked over to him. "Are you Vodka?" he asked, looking him up and down. The other man was shorter than him, and slightly heavyset. He was wearing a business suit and a fedora, and his eyes were hidden behind dark sunglasses. As Gin approached and spoke, he thought that he caught a hint of discomfort in his soon-to-be comrade's expression. But then it was gone, replaced by---to Gin's surprise---recognition.

"Y-yeah," he stammered, and Gin instantly had the feeling that Vodka was not at ease around other people. After a moment Vodka fully remembered that Gin outranked him and added, "Bro." It was a term of respect that the lower-level members used toward their higher-level allies.

Now it was Vodka's turn to stare at Gin. "We met once before," he said slowly, shifting as he took in Gin's cold expression. He wondered if the blonde could even see behind all the hair that was flopping into his face. At this point, Vodka could not see his eyes at all.

Gin took a draw on his cigarette. "Oh?" he replied, raising an eyebrow. At least, Vodka thought he did. It was hard to tell. "Where was that? I don't remember."

"It was a few years ago," Vodka replied nervously. "Well . . . it was over ten years ago, I guess, when you were in Japan before. You'd gotten in trouble with the Miyano girl, by going somewhere on the base where you weren't supposed to, and I talked to you for a while when they were trying to figure out what to do with you." Gin had always had a reputation as a nonconformist, and Vodka had the feeling that he was still that way---probably moreso, he decided, eyeing Gin's black coat and baggy turtleneck shirt, and the amazingly long hair.

Gin grunted. "I'm bad with faces," he admitted, "if I only see the person for a short while." And that was fine with him. It made it easier to kill. He would not have to see the victims over and over in his mind. They all faded into a blur.

Now he studied Vodka more closely, and part of an emerald eye came into view. "I don't think I'd remember you anyway," he said frankly. "You probably weren't wearing those before." He indicated the sunglasses.

"Well, no," Vodka admitted. He was not certain at all if they were going to get along. He was not good with people, as Gin had surmised, and the blonde was very intimidating. He half wanted to ask if Gin really felt comfortable with his hair that long, but he did not dare.

Gin shrugged. "Do whatever you want," he said, half-turning away. "I don't care. We're going to be together for a long time, so we'll have to get used to each other's quirks." In the Organization, once two people were partners, they remained so unless one or the other turned traitor or became deceased. The mysterious leader seemed to feel that once two agents had developed a rapport, that should not be disturbed because they would be able to do their best work together.

Vodka nodded slowly. "Right . . . bro," and followed after Gin when the blonde nodded in approval and started to walk away.

Thus began their odd and confusing relationship. Vodka often felt, years later, that he did not know that much more about Gin now than he had then. And Gin . . . well, Vodka still was not sure if Gin cared about him at all. Vodka did not know if he would call the blonde a friend, but he had gotten used to Gin being around, and he found it nigh to impossible to ever imagine working with someone else. Though, he was certain that he would not have to. Gin would never turn traitor, since he despised them so much. His loyalty was to the Organization. And Vodka could not imagine the blonde dying any time soon, either.

Gin honestly could not say how he felt about Vodka. He was used to him as well, but he did not believe himself capable of caring about anyone---not anymore. If he were asked if he still loved Shiho, he would deny it. And yet Vodka could see that it was true. If Gin cared about Vodka, he was denying that, as well.

Gin glared at the candles that lighted up certain portions of the house. Most of them were uncovered, and could easily start a fire if one was careless. They also cast eerie shadows throughout the rooms, which Gin could care less about. But Ayumi definitely felt anxious, and she clung to the green-eyed man's coat with her small hands as they were led up first one flight of stairs, then the other, to the third floor. Vodka followed, equally on edge, making sure to keep his gun drawn.

When they reached the top, the two lackeys indicated that they would have to walk down a long hall. Gin could hear the floor groaning as they trailed over it, and he wondered how long it would hold together. Then he looked up as they reached their destination---a room about halfway down the hall. "The boss is in here," the more quiet of the two announced.

Vodka wondered if Gin found it as ironic as he did that the two minions paralleled them in several ways. The blonde one was taller and seemed to be the leader, while the other was shorter and generally seemed to just follow the other's instructions.

Gin grunted, moving to open the door. As he turned the knob, Vodka was suddenly held back from going with him.

"We want to talk with you," the blonde with the tattoo announced with a smirk. "The boss just wants to see Gin and the kid."

Vodka glowered, as did Gin. "What do you want to talk to me about?" he said defensively.

"Oh, just things," was the answer, as Vodka's counterpart toyed with his gun.

Gin growled. "He'll kill you both," he snapped, not pleased with this arrangement. But no matter. He would have Ushio taken care of before long and then they would leave. He swept into the room, Ayumi still gripping at his coat, and the door was slammed behind them. To Gin's further annoyance, he heard a lock click.

Ushio was sitting on the edge of an old desk in the room that had definitely seen better days. "Welcome, welcome," he sneered. "I knew you'd come, though I wasn't expecting you so soon." He glanced to Ayumi. "Hello, my dear. Remember me?" His eyes glinted, and she hid behind Gin in terror.

"Leave her alone," Gin said coldly, pointing his gun at Ushio's head. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't spill your blood right now."

"That's simple," Ushio smiled. "You don't want the girl to see such a sight." He pushed himself off the furniture and to the floor. "You've been looking after her so well, after all. I never would have thought it. You lied to me and didn't kill her." His smile widened. "And what did you do with her instead? Did you just let her go, or did you . . . have some fun with her first? Are you sure we're all that different?"

Gin's eyes flashed with outrage and he gripped the gun so firmly that his knuckles went white. He would not even dignify that with a response. Ushio knew that Gin was not a child molester. He was only trying to make the assassin furious, but Gin had been trained to not give in to his anger. Even so, it took all of his mental strength to not pull the trigger . . . yet. "I don't have time for this," he said at last when he had himself under control. "I said for you to stop playing your games. Get on with why you called me here."

"Really, now. This is my house, Gin." Ushio leaned back on the desk. "You can't expect me to do everything you say. But . . . if you want to get down to business, let's!" Abruptly he raised his hand, and in it was clenched a pistol. Without warning he fired, and Gin barely managed to dive out of the way. The bullet instead hit a nearby candle and sent it spiraling to the floor. Immediately flames ignited, catching on the wooden planks and on the threadbare rug.

Gin cursed to himself as he heard the taunting, crackling sound of the flames, followed by Ayumi screaming. His eyes widening, he turned back around to see Ushio clutching the innocent child close to him, apparently using her as his shield against being shot---or burned. Hatred flashed in Gin's eyes, and memories crashed and mingled with the present as the wicked man began to laugh.

"Let me go! Let me GO!" she screamed as she was dragged across the floor by one of the servants. But no matter how she struggled and fought against him, her eight-year-old body was not a match for the strong and heavily-muscled frame of the man who had set his mind on having his way with her.

He heard her cries from outside and had not wasted any time getting back into the house. When he found them in the otherwise deserted hall, he did not stop to think. He ran forward, drawing his pocketknife and slicing into his enemy's arm. She had been able to wriggle free then, and she had watched in horror as the others had tumbled to the floor, wrestling desperately and each trying to get the upper hand.

The knife in his hand was twisted, and the servant tried to cause it to plunge into Gin's throat. But abruptly Gin kicked out, sending the other falling back. Before he had time to recover, Gin was upon him again, and drove the weapon into his heart. His eyes were smouldering. He would not stand for Shiho to be violated in any way. That had been the first time he had killed, and he had never regretted it. As far as he was concerned, that man had deserved death.

Soft crying broke through the wall of rage he had built. As he slowly got up, Shiho ran to him, throwing her arms around his waist as she sobbed. Her tears were out of fear, for what she had gone through, and because she knew that she could have lost Gin then. He held her close, his long bangs falling over his eyes and concealing the emotions of loathing and fury that still boiled in his soul.

She had never known exactly what that man was going to do to her, even though she had realized it would not be pleasant, and in later years she seemed to have blocked all memories of the incident from her mind. And that was fine with him. It was not something that she should have to remember. He would never tell her.

Weeping came again in the present, as Ayumi fought in vain against Ushio's viselike grip. He sneered at Gin as the flames in the room leaped higher, closing in on them. "You're helpless to do anything," he taunted. "The girl is mine!" He started to drag her back toward the window, intending to jump outside. Gin would be left inside to suffer and die from the flames. Ushio fired at him again, and grinned wickedly when the bullet dug into the blonde's shoulder. Ayumi screamed.

Gin growled in pain, clapping his hand over the wound. He had been shot in the left shoulder, but he would not let that stop him. Fighting the burning pain, he raised his gun in his left hand, his eyes hard and cold. "These flames are appropriate," he hissed. "Go to Hell, where you belong." He squeezed the trigger, and Ushio was killed instantly by a bullet to his head. His body fell back, disappearing into the flames, and Ayumi tore free of his grasp, running to Gin and hugging him as the tears continued to spill from her innocent blue eyes.

Gin laid a hand slowly on her head as he looked around the room for an escape route. The flames were everywhere, eating through the age-old walls and floor and ceiling of the abode. The door was locked, and it would be impossible to go through it anyway. He would never make it alive. The way it looked, the window was the same way. The fire had encircled it, climbing all the way up. He cursed, wondering if there was a secret exit out of the room, and struggled to shield Ayumi with his coat as the flames drew closer.

He never had time to figure out what to do next. The floor, weakened by years of disrepair and a leaking roof, gave way from the hungry flames. Ayumi shrieked as they crashed downward, and Gin could only hold onto her. Then they slammed onto the next floor down, and before Gin could get his bearings enough to struggle up, something hard struck him over the head and everything went dark.