Chapter 7: Contained
Simmons slowly traced his finger along Ellone's neck, running it through her hair. She shivered under his touch, which made him chuckle as he casually twirled his pistol in his other hand. The sadistic mercenary walked around in front of her and crouched down, looking his hostage in the eye. She pointedly looked away, not meeting his gaze.
"'Llarra tells me that you brother's not fulfilling his end of the deal," Simmons explained. He grabbed Ellone by her chin and turned her around to face him. "That's bad for you. He stays like this, and you may have a problem." He paused, and his eyes traced down her body, making Ellone shiver again.
"Maybe I should just get started now," he said suggestively. "Your brother can be stubborn at times, though I can't believe he'd be so callous as to leave you to my mercies." The mercenary chuckled. "Who knows? You might just like it."
Ellone glared at him, and suddenly spat in his face. Simmons recoiled, wiping his mouth off, where the spittle had landed. Snarling, he reached back with a hand and viciously slugged his hostage across the face.
"Bitch," he growled as Ellone fell back with a cry of pain. He bent down over her, pushing her back on the floor. "To hell with this. Illarra's going to have me do this anyway, regardless of whether your brother comes through or not. So, let's just get things going, huh?" Simmons grabbed the front of Ellone's robes.
Then he was pulled away as an arm wrapped around his throat and lifted the mercenary up. With casual ease, Major Malachi hurled the mercenary across the room, where he crashed into a table, spilling documents and an empty bottle over him.
"I warned you," Malachi muttered darkly, his knife out in his hands. "I told you not to try anything funny."
Simmons spat on the floor and stood up, leveling his pistol at the Major. Malachi chuckled, and spun his knife around his index finger.
"You really want to try that?" he replied. "The Director would get real mad if he found out." Simmons hesitated, and finally lowered his weapon. Malachi nodded, and returned his knife to its sheathe.
"Don't try that again," he said, shaking his head. "Until you get an explicit order, you keep it in your pants, or I'll make sure it never gets back inside your pants again, understood?" Simmons sneered but nodded.
"What the hell are you here for, anyway?" the mercenary asked.
"Aside from making sure you don't mistreat our guest," Malachi answered, and then nodded toward the comms equipment. At his gesture, several technicians and soldiers moved into the room, and began sitting down at the communications gear. "All our comms systems are being tied up. The Director's planning something big in the next few days, maybe as soon as tomorrow. I'm shifting island communications to this room. Something happened on the west side, involving our Corsairs. I need to get back in contact with them."
"Don't tell me your elite commandos can't deal with a ragged bunch of battered survivors," Simmons sneered, and Malachi shrugged.
"One of our Corsairs confirmed something interesting," Malachi continued. "President Loire was alive during the battle. I need confirmation that he's dead. We got cut off during the battle, likely due to the Director's interference."
"Well, don't let me interrupt you," Simmons replied, walking across the room and leaning against a wall.
"Move her out of the way," Malachi ordered, and a pair of soldiers dragged Ellone away from the center of the floor. "Reestablish contact. Do we still have their transponders?"
"Two transponders are not responding," one of the techs answered. "However, we do have Zulu-Two-Nine-Nine active, and en route back to the base."
Open a channel," Malachi ordered. "Zulu-Two-Nine-Nine, report in. Did you kill the target?"
There was a long pause, in which only silence responded over the radio.
"Zulu-Two-Nine-Nine, respond," Malachi snarled.
There was no answer again.
"Dammit, Lieutenant Niels, are you there?" Malachi demanded. "Niels, respond."
"Attention!" a voice cut in over the radio, and Malachi straightened. That wasn't the voice he wanted to hear, and it wasn't in the tone he was wanting, either.
"Attention, Niels is dead, fuck-head!" shouted the man on the other end. "So's his pal! And you assholes are next!"
"Who is this?" Malachi demanded, and he nodded toward a technician, who immediately started sending alert orders.
"This is your friendly neighborhood Corsair aerial transport hijacker and SeeD extraordinaire, Zell Dincht," The voice responded. "Currently en route to shove this airship right up your collective asses!"
"SeeD Dincht, you are about to attack a fully armed Estharian military base with a single Corsair aerial transport," Malachi responded. "You do understand this is complete suicide, do you not?"
"Suicide?" Zell replied. "Wow, I haven't done one of those kinds of missions in about a month now. Considering how many times I've been shot at in the last couple of hours, I'm feeling kind of lucky. Hey, Laguna, you feel lucky?"
"Yes, I do," answered the voice of Laguna Loire, President of Esthar. "Especially when dealing with Estharian traitors. Question is, mystery people over there in the base I know nothing about and actively plotting to assassinate me, is this: Do you feel lucky, punk? Do you?"
"Sir, they're about to fly right into the middle of our air defense net," reported another technician.
"Blow 'em out of the sky as soon as they do," Malachi replied. "Mister President, your wit and candor are commendable in the face of certain death. I can accept your surrender right now, if you wish, but in about ten seconds, at your present course, you will fly into our defense net and be obliterated. Your ship is too close, and my aircraft can shoot you down even if you try to flee right now. You have no other options."
"Oh, I think we do," replied Dincht over the line. "Only thing is, we're trying to decide whether to stake you guys on rusty bars, or just drag your heads back with us to Garden to mount over the wet bar. I'm not sure what you look like, but we have room right beside the head of Sorceress Adel."
"You'll regret mentioning Adel," Malachi responded, his voice suddenly very dangerous.
"Sir, they are in range now," the tech stated.
"Wipe them off the sky, Sergeant," Malachi ordered. "And prepare a transmission to the Presidential Palace to inform them that we've confirmed Loire's death."
"Aye, sir."
"Looks like Daddy tried to rescue you," Simmons muttered, walking over to Ellone. "Too bad. He was an idiot anyway. Glad to see that fool go." He reached down and ran a hand through her hair again, and suddenly jerked as his sleeve was pinned against he wall by a quivering knife.
Malachi wasn't even looking at Simmons, but his arm was returning to his side. He spared one more warning glance at Simmons as the mercenary pulled the knife off the wall and tossed it back.
"Next time, it's your jewels," Malachi warned with a finality that left no room for debate.
"Thar she blows," Zell commented as what looked like hundreds of red streaks and flashing bolts of energy shattered their appropriated Corsair transport high above them.
"And in we go," Laguna added, moving through the hole Lex had sliced in the nearly invisible transparisteel fence that ringed the base complex . Their entrance had come from the south side of the island, through a narrow gully that seemed relatively unguarded. Of course, it had actually been very well-protected by the invisible, camouflaged fence and an array of holocameras, but they had gotten around that with a clever distraction. Zell had rigged up the autopilot on the Corsair, and using one of the dead soldier's captured radios, had provoked enemy fire. That had captured everyone's attention, and no one had noticed the intrusion of the quintet of impromptu commandos through the southern wall.
A couple of minutes after the infiltration, the quintet stood on a ridgeline inside the perimeter of the base, looking down over the facility with a stolen pair of binoculars. It was a good thing the enemy had been well-equipped. From what they could see, the facility was on the north side of the island, and outwardly appeared to be a small collection of prefabricated structures, painted in camouflaged colors and covered with netting festooned with false leaves and branches, hiding them well among the foliage.
However, careful examination revealed there were more than the prefabricated buildings. On the north side of the facility were a series of clearings, with what looked like small trees in the center of them. A close look showed slight amounts of metal gleaming among the false trees; aircraft hidden on secret landing pads, dozens of them. Within the trees, pointed shapes and boxy structures were hidden beneath layers of netting; anti aircraft missile launchers and defense emplacements. A mountainous wall rose to the west, and while there appeared to be an old rockslide of boulders piled up along the slope, one could make out tiny, telltale metal slivers of light among the stones; it looked like the boulders were hiding the entrance to an underground tunnel. That meant that the majority of the facility was underground.
"How we gonna get in there?" Raijin asked, and Zell shook his head, scanning the compound.
"No idea where they're keeping Ellone," he replied. "All we have to do is grab her and pull out. SeeD support should be coming soon, with the distress signal we sent before we sent the Corsair in."
"My bet would be underground," Lex suggested. "Safe and secure, and I think that's where the command center would be."
"That thing that looks like a bunker, about two hundred feet to south of the boulder tumble," Laguna said quickly, and pointed at it. Zell nodded as he saw it. From this angle, he could see a heavy doorway set into one of the mountain slopes, and what looked like a quartet of camouflaged Estharian soldiers standing in front of it.
"That's our ticket in," Zell said, and the others nodded.
Squall looked around the room. He had helped come up with the design for the Interrogation area of the Brig sector, so he knew how well this place was designed. As long as one didn't have anything metallic in their possession, it was impossible to escape. The camera covered the entire room, and the armored window could survive a tremendous beating, unless someone used a sharp metallic instrument to cut a circle in it and break it down. By that time a legion of SeeDs would be waiting in the room outside.
Squall considered his options. He didn't have any junctions. He could use magic, but a localized anti-magic field was kept operation inside the room, sealing that option. He couldn't fight fully armed SeeDs without magic, junctions, or the ability to Draw. Well, he could, but his chances were slim; he remembered distinctly what happened when he had tried to resist Seifer in the D District Prison.
That meant . . . What? His only real option lay in getting out of Interrogation One, to a place without the anti-magic field, and Draw a GF. Then he could stand a chance of escaping. But getting out would be the hard part.
Squall shook his head, and lowered it to his palms. He fervently hoped that Ellone was safe. Squall closed his eyes, and then opened them quickly, looking straight down at his necklace. In their haste to lock him away, none of the Garden Security officers had removed his necklace. Stupid of them; the Griever pendant's lower end had a sharpened edge. He could use it to escape.
But time. He needed less than thirty seconds, uninterrupted, to get outside through the window. In that time a dozen or more SeeDs would fall all over him and beat him senseless. Still, if he could neutralize one, even for a moment, and seize their weapon, he might have a chance.
Squall nodded, the idea solidifying in his mind. He needed a chance, a moment when no one was watching him, and he could pull it off. Thirty seconds, getting outside the anti-magic field, and a junctioned SeeD, and Squall Leonhart would be able to escape.
Squall?
He jerked, straightening, and looked around, before settling his gaze on the window. He knew the voice, all to well, and her words were instantly comforting. They had rarely communicated like this before; her voice resounded in his mind, as if her words were simply jumping past his ears and straight into his consciousness.
Rinoa? he thought back, and felt a warm sense of comfort wash over him. He latched onto that, knowing she would be able to feel it back through the telepathic link. On the tail end of that feeling was another thought.
You're in the outer room, right?
Yeah, she responded. Still can't do this without line of sight, though. Cid knows that you're being tapped, and they can hear you, but I don't think that they can sense a telepathic link between a Sorceress and her Knight.
Good for us. I forgot we could do this. If I had remembered, we might have stopped this before . . . No, not likely, now that I think about it. What did Cid tell you?
Everything he knows, Rinoa answered. Something terrible is going to happen if you don't do what they say. They're looking for the traitor now. Whoever set this up, they'll find them. Rinoa's voice paused. What are they doing? Who are they threatening?
Ellone.
Squall felt a ripple of shock run through his mind, and suppressed the urge to nod.
They took her off the train when they attacked. If I don't do what they say . . . . Squall couldn't even think about it, and instead dredged up the memories of the initial phone conversation. Horror, followed by rage and disgust, flew through his mind as Rinoa ran through the conversation.
Those . . . Bastards!
I had worse words for them, Squall answered. So far, they made me try to kill Cid, and . . . Rinoa! Quick! You have to alert Xu! There's a bomb in the MD Level, at that anti-grav drives! You have to get rid of it!
Right, she responded, surprised and somewhat alarmed, but not panicking. How long until it goes?
It's set to detonate during the initial speeches in . . . shit! Forty minutes!
Anything else? she asked him.
Yeah. They want me to escape and head to the main plaza. There . . . They want me to pick up a sniper rifle and assassinate your father and Duke Haroldington.
Genuine shock and fear shot through her mind.
Are you going to do it?
No. Squall's response was firm, but he wasn't sure if he could hold himself to that or not. In all honesty, he had not taken into account that he was being ordered to assassinate Rinoa's own father. The image was horrifying to him, and his emotions carried over into Rinoa's mind.
Squall, she said firmly in his mind. We will find who is doing this, and we will stop them. You understand?
Yeah, Squall replied. The woman who is behind it is named Illarra. She has an associate names Simmons, a mercenary, they're communicating with me via an earpiece I'm wearing. I don't know if you can trace the transmissions or not.
We'll do what we can. Anything else?
Whoever the traitor is, they have access to all of Garden's interior. They hid the pistol I was going to use against Cid in the MD Level. Whoever Illarra is, she has a grudge against me. I don't know from where, but she does have one.
I'll have Garden get to work on that part, Rinoa responded. I'll need to get with Cid and let him know everything that's going on.
Okay, Squall answered, and then paused. Rinoa . . . The terrorists said that if they wanted to, they could bring you into this as well.
They did? Squall could feel the apprehension rolling off her as he said that.
Yeah. Please, watch your back. I don't want you mixed up in this too.
I'll be careful, Squall, she responded. There was a brief hesitation on her end of the link. Squall, I have to go now. I just want you to know . . . I love you, okay?
I know, Squall answered. I love you too.
In less than a second, an arm snaked around a guard's neck, snapping it like a twig. The second man felt his backbone break as a huge warrior simply grabbed him and twisted his body, the sickening crunch resounding around the small bunker. A flash of a blade, and a third guard fell, the katana returning to its sheath before the man had finished falling. The fourth guard's hands shot up to his throat, where a chakram was buried, the blades stealing his voice as he collapsed to the dirt.
The four assassins moved in quickly, Zell and Raijin dragging the bodies into the thick forest cover around the bunker, while Fujin, Lex, and Laguna covered the entrance. A moment later, the two brawlers returned, Zell crouching next to the control panel for the door.
"You know how to operate this thing?" Laguna asked, and Zell shook his head, and smashed his fist through the panel. An instant later, the outer door slid open.
"Welcome to the Zell Dincht School of Locksmithing," explained the brawler as the double doors slid open, revealing a corridor beyond. "Let's go."
Rinoa's contact had vanished, leaving Squall alone again. He glanced up at the security camera, and nodded slowly, as if reassuring his observers that he was going to do what they wanted him to do. He figured he'd only have a moment to cut the glass now that Rinoa had left, which meant he had to act, now.
Squall started to stand, when the camera's indicator light cut off. He paused for a moment, confused, and finished standing. Then, the door to the interrogation room swung open, and in stepped an odd-looking man with a wide-brimmed hat, strange cross-shaped tie, and weird, formal attire.
"Good day, Commander Leonhart," the man said with a smile. He waved his hands in the air around him. "Please, feel free to speak freely. We're currently enclosed within a time nullification field. For all intents and purposes, the rest of the world is still around us, leaving us free to exchange words before moving on."
"What?" Squall replied, confused, and the man chuckled.
"Forgive me," he explained. "I felt the need to explain my actions before introductions." He crossed an arm over his chest and bowed formally.
"My name is Alucard, Commander Leonhart."
"The man who attacked Quistis," Squall answered, and Alucard chuckled.
"If by 'man' you mean 'human' and by 'attacked' you mean 'assaulted with intent to kill', then you are far from the mark, Commander."
"Okay, fine," Squall replied, shaking his head. "Who are you?"
"A consummate meddler in affairs that demand meddling, Commander," Alucard said with a smile. "This one screams for my particular brand of meddlesome troublemaking."
"What are you here for?" Squall demanded.
"The door is open, isn't it, Commander?" Alucard replied, gesturing toward it. "I'll save you the trouble of cutting the glass. Interestingly, someone decided to put your gunblade, sidearm, combat knives, and Guardian Forces in a locker just outside as well. How thoughtful, wouldn't you say?"
"Very," Squall answered, looking over the figure in a new light. "Why?"
"The woman named Illarra is of interest to me, Commander," responded Alucard with a shrug. "The conflict you are enmeshed in is far greater than you can imagine, and through her, I suspect I can find my way deeper into this conflict. There, I an . . . Meddle some more, as needed."
"You want me free so you can chase down Illarra?" Squall asked, and Alucard nodded. "Rather risky," Squall continued. "If you want her alive, you'd better get to her before I do."
"I certainly hope to," Alucard explained. "But, even if she doesn't survive, the failure of her plot will flush out those she is connected with. Keep your eyes open, there is an enemy within Garden itself that is intent on your foes' success."
Squall nodded, but was actually surprised that his suspicions of a traitor were true. The Commander was actually somewhat suspicious of Alucard as well, but something about the man put him at ease, however. Squall didn't know what, but it was as if he could trust this stranger more than most normal people.
"Okay, one more thing," Squall asked. He gestured to the room around him. "What the hell?"
"Temporal nullification field," Alucard replied. "You and I are in an alternate pocket of time in which things flow normally while the rest of time is still. Its like a bubble in time's flow, so to speak. Difficult to comprehend, but that's why humans rarely develop this kind of time spell. Regardless, the moment I break the spell, time reverts to normal and you will be right where you were the second this bubble was raised."
Squall wasn't sure he understood, but then, he didn't need to. He found himself really trusting Alucard, so he quickly rose and moved toward the doorway. He stepped out into the control room, to fid it empty, just as he'd expected. Squall moved to one of the lockers lining the far end of the room, and opened it, revealing just what he needed: his wepaons and GF stones. Squall quickly donned his gear, sliding his knoves into their sheathes, clipping on his Lionheart gunblade and scabbard, and holstering his pistol. He equipped his Guardian Forces, and the power surged through his body, hardening his muscles and increasing his clarity and senses.
"The SeeDs on duty will return in moments after I dispel this," Alucard warned.
"Right," squall answered. Not that he would need to worry about it. "Thanks for the help."
"I meddle when I must," Alucard replied as squall turned toward the door. "Now, I bid you farewell, Commander."
Squall looked back, and froze, confused, for Alucard had vanished where he had stood. An instant later, two SeeDs walked into the interrogation control room, and Squall's hands became filled with more important things.
There were eight of them, fully armored and armed with stun batons and heavy bludgeoning hammers. Heavy armor and helmets covered their bodies, shielding them from the improvised weapons the local populace liked to use. They pushed their way through the tunnels, glaring at the ragged, heavily clothed collection of prisoners around them, who quickly moved out of the way, though their actions seemed as if they were extending a favor, instead of the fearful scurrying that the men wanted.
They descended the stairs leading along the edge of the main cavern, the walls glittering with ice, and turned down a side passage near the base of the room. Prisoners gave way, whispering among themselves, and a couple chuckling. One older prisoner shook his head, and stepped into their path, crossing his arms.
"Move, scab," the head guard ordered, and the man raised his hands in a placating gesture.
"Hey, relax," the bearded man quickly replied. "Look, I know you guys think you're hot shit, right? Been up with the main populace up in Lockdown, beating asses and living nice and in-charge, right? Never been to the Undercity before, though, have you?"
"No," the lead guard replied. "Now get out of the way."
"I know what you're here for," the older prisoner replied quickly. "You want to bring in The Governor, right? We know he's got the order on him, and we won't interfere, but remember, this is the Undercity. The only law down here is The Governor's law, and not the prison's. You guys think you're tough, but The Governor is . . . ."
"Move," the guard replied one last time, and pushed the man out of his way with the hammer.
"Fine, then. Looks like new armor and weapons for us tonight," the prisoner responded. The guards ignored him, and pushed through the ice-caked tunnels, descending deeper into the area before arriving at a door, flanked by two prisoners in heavy coats, wielding makeshift spears. They moved aside as soon as they saw the guards, and the lead man pushed through the crude wooden doors.
He stepped into a circular room, dark, but lit by the ember so a dying fire. The rest of the guards filed in behind him, spreading out across the chamber. Their eyes locked on the figure in the center of the room as he sat upon a stalagmite that had been chopped off at waist-height, now used as a stool.
"You have been summoned," the lead guard stated calmly, staring at the man's back as he looked down at the fire. "We have orders to bring you up to Lockdown."
"Again," muttered the man, who chuckled darkly. The old, worn coat that dropped his shoulders rippled with the laughter. It was tattered and ripped in dozens of places, and couldn't possibly protect him from the cold. The once-white garment was now almost all gray, with some parts black from dirt and grime. Dull, dark red stains slashed across the outfit's frayed weave, bloodstains from many years of battle and death.
Slowly, the man turned his head away from the fire, his blonde hair dropping down his forehead. It was messy and uncleaned, much like his coat, and needed to be cut. Once regal and smoothed-back, in control, it was now ragged and loose. The light from the fires reflected in steel-gray eyes, crimson highlights flashing through them as he regarded the men with an air of boredom and a very subtle and terrifying sense of danger. He was like an animal, half-tamed, and waiting to be unleashed. A slow smirk crossed his face, not a cocky one, but of a beast about to sink its teeth into helpless prey.
The lead guard shuddered as he looked at The Governor, and tensed up as the man reached into his coat slowly.
"Trying to take me to my execution again," he whispered, and laughed. It wasn't a mirthful laugh, but a low, mocking one, that of a man staring at a beaten, helpless opponent he was about to finish. "You people never learn . . . Trapped up in your own superiority because of Lockdown's broken prisoners you can torture and rape whenever you want. This is the Undercity, boys . . . And here, I rule."
He stood tall, seeming to tower over the men in the chamber, his bare chest revealed beneath the coat, muscled and powerful. A black pair of dirty, worn pants, and old, battered boots covered his legs and feet. A crude sheath of leather was belted to his waist, and the figure slowly pulled out a long, slender blade, black, with a silver edge. It looked like a saber, with a curved, slender, elegant blade, and a deadly sharp edge. The man twirled the sword in the air once, and then leveled it at his opponents in a modified fencing pose.
"Now, gentlemen, please die," The Governor stated, and shot forward, into their midst.
Blood flew from one man's throat as the saber flicked across, taking out his neck in a deft slice. The Governor spun, stabbing his blade into the armpit of a second guard, the blade stabbing out the other side. The other guards began to react, raising their weapons, but by that time, The Governor had spun around, flipping the blade over and stabbing behind him, into the neck of a third man. He ripped the blade free and hopped back, dancing out of the enemy's range, and quickly dove back in with a duck and spin, rising up with a flashing cut that severed a man's head.
Four men died before anyone could counter, and finally, one of the guards rushed the Governor, thrusting with his stun baton. Almost casually, the Governor caught his wrist and slapped it out to the side, leaving him wide open as a swinging backhand sliced off his head as well. The Governor then ducked and stepped back as a hammer flew for his head, and spun low, thrusting up with both hands as he came to face the attacker. The guard fell back, clutching at his chest, where the saber had stabbed, and the prisoner quickly pulled the weapon free. He spun around, in time to snap the weapon up and catch a flying hammer by its handle. He span the thrown weapon around once on its handle before redirecting it to crash against the wall. The Governor turned toward the thrower, who was now unarmed, and chuckled.
"My turn," he responded, and the saber went dancing end over end, crossing the room faster than an eyeblink, and imbedded itself in the guard's left eye. As the guard fell to the floor, the Governor walked over calmly and tore the weapon free, before turning on the last, terrified man in the room, the lead guard. He walked over, twirling his bloody sword in the air couple of times, and slapped the back of the man's hammer-hand with the flat of the saber. The guard dropped his weapon in shock and fear.
The Governor grabbed the terrified man and lifted him up with one frighteningly strong hand.
"Sending punks like you to take me to my execution," he muttered, shaking his head. His eyes bore a mixture of malice and disgust directed at his gibbering victim. "Idiots."
"Not execution!" the man stammered. "We weren't taking you for execution!"
"Then for what?" the Governor asked, suddenly interested.
"The doctors wanted to see you," the man replied, and the Governor chuckled.
"I'm in fine condition, and they don't care about the health of people in the Undercity anyway, so its not for a checkup. What do the good Doctors Nash and Odine want today?"
"Nash didn't say anything," the guard responded immediately. "Odine mentioned an experiment involving GFs, though. He asked that you to be brought up here."
"And that fool sent inexperienced thugs down here to pick me up?" the Governor growled, and chuckled. "Man, he's dumber than I thought. Alright, pal. You'll live, on one condition. Run up top, back to Lockdown and the labs, and tell the Doctors that the next time they want me to be in any experiments, come down themselves. I'd be happy to gut them any day."
Without waiting for a response, he hurled the guard at the door, which flew open. The unarmed man rose and scrambled away, rushing out of the tunnels, immediately greeted by hoots and jeers from the prisoners. Several of the swathed prisoners looked into the room, and nodded at the carnage.
"Get someone in here to clean this up," the Governor ordered, returning to his seat, where he stared at the fire contemplatively. "I need some peace to think with, and I can't with blood and bodies laying around."
As the prisoners moved at his order, the Governor stared at the embers before him, considering what had just transpired. He was not foolish enough to disregard what the guard had given up; they had been trying to bring him up for execution for at least a few weeks now, but no truly serious effort had been made to kill him. The guards up above knew that the Undercity, under his direction, was too dangerous a place for them to tread if it's citizens were turned against them. His personal elimination of the guard teams sent to take him away was solely to demonstrate to the prisoners why he had become the new Governor of Iceblood Prison's Undercity.
The Doctors, he mused. What do they want? Odine might want me just for any kind of GF-based experiment, but Nash? What would Nash need me for? Unless he wants to know how long-term GF exposure would interact with the Elemental Project? For that, he'd need a SeeD, or someone close to one . . . Like me.
He glanced down at his saber, in its sheathe, and snarled. If Nash wanted him, he'd have to come and take him. The Governor drew the saber, and held it before him, looking into the polished steel of the blade. He ran a thumb over the numerous scars across his face, and stopped at the one threading between his eyes. It was one of the few reminders of who he was. It, and the coat, were all he had left of his past.
I have no past worth mentioning, he thought to himself. Son of a Dollet soldier and a prostitute. A failed mercenary cadet. A failed Sorceresses' Knight. A failed friend to those who needed me. All I am now . . . is just a sword looking for a target. A battered warrior waiting to die in this hellhole.
He chuckled.
If that's my payment for my sins, so be it.
-
Oh my, who is this newcomer! Could it be? Is it? Has he finally appeared? Heehee.
I apologize for the relative lack of action this chapter. I knew that if i included what I wante dint his chapter, it would become this tremendous monster. So, I broke off the set-up chapter for Squall's escape and Zell's entry into the enemy base from the actual action. Next chapter, expect to see SeeD get owned by Squall and enemy soldiers getting crushed by Zell and Laguna's bunch! You might see more of Selphie and Irvine, too!
There is a reference to Die Hard: With A Vengance in there, very, very easy to find.
And with no further hesitation . . . .
Peptuck's Great Raging Shining Shout-Outs of Passion!
Chris Ganale: Revenge was, beyond a doubt, one of the most badass flicks I've seen, ever. Holy whoa.
Solid Shark: This whole story is one big cliffhanger. XD
Daniel Wesley Rydell: You might be onto something there . . . .
Anime Obsessed Fan: No, the conspiracy will only be stopped by the brave actions of a few dedicated, passionate heroes fighting for GREAT JUSTICE YAAAAH!
DBZ Fanfiction Queen: You will know . . . eventually. Oooh, I love playing with the readers' minds!
Illarra will die, hopefully. But she will make Squall's life unbelievably worse before the end.
I say nothing on the litte girl in the limo! She is my big huge evil death killy secret!
OniRazz: Lex certainly isn't the traitor. :P Yeah, I need to put an end to the running and get to the fortress of DOOM! Irvine Kinneas and the Temple of DOOM! YAAAH! And wait until the leahs is droppe don squall. Asses will be kicked liberally, and in good measure!
Leonhartilly: Bah. T'was a typo.
LittleGenius90: Yes, Zell is sickeningly strong. He is very powerful, make no mistake. Raijin's even stronger, though XD
Karaoke Risa: Oh, trust me, this story will explode in scope once Squall gets through this day . . . .
E: I love writing ass-kicking, with any character, Zell included.
Prodigy: Sorry I haven't been reviewing. I've been pretty busy writing my stuff, obviously, considering how fast I'm cranking out these chapters. And if you thought Laguna kicked ass last chapter, wait until the next one! Hee.
That everyone? Great. Now, I need to stop eating cookies during typing, makes me all hyper.
Until next chapter!