New Blood
by Saber Alexander McConnell
Rated PG13

CHAPTER 40: Washington, D. C.

"Freeze!" one of the men called, raising his weapon to eye level.

Nohano took a very slow breath and stood very still. It would be a cruel joke indeed if he were to survive a battle with an insanely powerful demon, only to be killed by some trigger-happy A-T officer. Go ahead and do what they ask, Nohano said, unless they ask you to remove your armor or helmets.

This is just great, snarled Xander, obviously out of patience for the day. Don't these jerks realize we just saved their skins?

It'll be all right, said Killian, and Nohano was relieved to feel the familiar comfort and calm of Killian's waters through the link. Nohano's right—we'll need to cooperate with these guys until they decide we're not the ones who did all this.

Which might prove to be more difficult than it sounded.

The A-T Squad did not seem to know how to proceed from there, obviously surprised by the Ronin Warriors' cooperation. Several of the dazed-looking citizens had gathered close, kept from interfering by a few members of the A-T Squad, and Nohano saw a hover-cam from one of the local news stations drifting above the scene, recording every detail. "We're not here to hurt anyone," said Nohano finally, making a couple of the squad members jump nervously. He winced, tensing, but no one opened fire. 'Damn it, I don't need this right now!' The only thing he wanted to do was to sleep—he had never been so exhausted in his life—and these paranoid twits were pointing guns at him!

"Remove your helmet!" called the man who had spoken first. "Slowly!"

Nohano sighed, carefully shaking his head. "I can't. We would put ourselves in danger to reveal our identities." He nodded to Tarun, who was trying very hard to look brave. "Especially with the child with us."

He saw the man frown behind his bullet-proof face mask, and realized the man was in riot gear. 'Riot gear,' Nohano thought, resisting an insane urge to laugh. And what were the police and A-T Squads but civilian versions of Ronin Warriors? "Very well," the man said finally. "But remove your weapons, slowly, and lay them on the ground in front of you. If any of you try to use them, we will open fire!"

They were scared, Nohano realized. And he guessed he really couldn't blame them. He sent a sort of mental nod towards the others, then very slowly removed his katana from their sheaths. How bizarre they must all look in archaic armor, standing in the middle of the ruined San Francisco street. He lay the katana down on the ground, watching the others all putting their weapons down. Xan said he hadn't any weapon, turning around slowly to show he spoke the truth.

The Squad seemed to relax a good deal once the group had stepped away from their weapons, but Nohano was still trying to figure out a way out of the situation. His dilemma was solved not a minute after he'd lain down his swords. A woman in the Squad gear came up to them then, a c-phone in her hand. "It's the chief," she said to the man who'd addressed Nohano's group. "The high chief. He says the president herself orders we are to bring this group to see her, and they be allowed to bring anything they carry on them."

"Including their weapons?" the man asked, sounding shocked.

"Yep. Anything they've got with them."

Nohano blinked, staring at the woman in bald disbelief, and felt the astonishment from the rest of the group as well. Of all the things that could have happened then, half-formed fears of being locked in a jail cell or charged with treason, or a dozen other fates—this was the last thing he would have expected.

What in Hell? said Suisei, dumbfounded. Have you ever heard of anyone being allowed to meet the president with weapons?

Er, no, said Nohano. I never thought I'd meet the president, period, actually.

The man who'd addressed the group seemed just as dumbfounded, and he signaled the rest of the squad, all of whom lowered their weapons. Nohano didn't know about anyone else, but he breathed a huge sigh of relief. "Um, okay," said the man. "Well—go ahead and grab your, uh, weapons, then. If you're willing, Ms. President wishes to speak with you."

Things got very weird after that. The Ronin retrieved their weapons (the A-T squad looked very uneasy about it) and held a brief, whispered conference. They all agreed they should speak with the president, in fact were eager to do so, but Rashida said it would be far easier on them to do it after they'd had a full night's rest.

Nohano wanted badly to agree, but he didn't feel quite right telling the President of the United States that she had to wait their convenience. "Look. Let's...let's meet with her now," said Nohano. "It certainly doesn't sound as if she wants to throw us in jail or anything. It'd probably benefit us if we made a good impression."

No one could argue that, and Nohano turned, telling the A-T Squad that they would go with them to meet her.

"How will we go there?" asked Rashida.

The woman who'd brought the message smiled a little. It was clear she was wary of them, but at least she was trying to be pleasant. "We have arranged transportation—it won't take long."

Fifteen minutes later, Nohano and his group were sitting in a private sonic-jet, still in full armor, and accompanied by several members of the A-T squad. The jet, a small model usually used for high ranking politicians, had landed right in the street, causing a stir among the shell-shocked citizens. Nohano had never been in a plane before, and not even his exhaustion could distract him from the disconcerting take-off and the fantastic view below..

'Just when I figured my life could not get any weirder,' thought Nohano, a can of Mountain Dew Ultra in his hand, flying over the country in the high-tech jet. His friends were all quiet, either enjoying the novelty, resting after their battles, or too astonished to say anything. Suisei predictably was enjoying the flight and no doubt wishing he were the one flying the plane. Tarun had fallen asleep, for which Nohano was secretly glad. For one, Tarun needed the rest, and for two, he was impossible to keep occupied on long trips.

He turned to Killian, who sat beside him, looking distinctly discontent. These bloody seats aren't comfortable, he grouched, shifting awkwardly in the plush seat.

Nohano laughed softly; Killian was right. The airplane seats were as nice as they came, but in full armor, with odd bits of metal sticking out here and there, they were not very comfortable at all. Demetrius had removed his weapon and set it on the floor beside his seat, as had Rashida and Killian. Nohano's katana were just short enough to be kept where they were, but the front and back pieces of his armor were awkward.

What do you think the president wants? asked Killian, sounding anxious.

Nothing bad, I'm sure, answered Rashida. Else she would never allow us audience armed.

Rashida had a very good point, and Nohano relaxed a little bit at the realization. Whatever happened, it would be good, or at least it wouldn't be harmful to them. As the plane approached the East Coast, Nohano felt some of his fatigue give way to nervousness and excitement.

His stomach lurched as the jet began to descend, and his ears popped from the odd change in pressure. The White House lay below, looking the way it had for the past one-hundred years. Little had changed about the building since the turn of the twenty-first century, except for the high-tech security he knew surrounded it.

"It's weird, being back here," said Xan, gazing morosely out the window, and Nohano remembered that he was from Washington, D. C.. "Wonder if my parents ever finalized their divorce."

Nohano felt a sudden surge of sympathy for Xan—he had to be missing his parents terribly, and now that the horror of the Dynasty was past, at least for now, it was easy to think of mundane things. Nohano wondered suddenly if, now that it was over for a while, the others would want to return to their homes. He hoped that wasn't so, though he'd not try to keep anyone. It wasn't right to expect them to give up their lives—but that did not stop him hoping.

When the plane touched down on a private runway not far from the White House, his mind was very suddenly back on their current adventure. He was tired to his bones, and still half-injured, and here he was, about to meet the president.

Yeah, it's mad, agreed Killian, obviously having caught some of Nohano's thoughts. Completely, er, bug-nuts. Nohano laughed.

The head of the A-T Squad stood up as the plane came to a stop, looking at Nohano and his group. "We've arrived," he said courteously. "If you'll follow me, you'll be escorted into the White House. We will be joined by several Secret Service agents for your safety and the safety or Ms. President." He chuckled suddenly, looking over the youths' armor, and added, "Not that you need much protection, I would guess."

A nervous laugh ran through the group, and Nohano stood, wincing as he very carefully stretched. He was certain he had a nice set of bruised ribs from Talpa's furious, whirlwind assault. He definitely didn't want to fight that jerk again any time soon!

The transport that took them to the White House was a black, bulletproof van with comfortable seats and room for a dozen extra people, and most of the extra seats were taken by the A-T and Secret Service agents. Nohano's friends were quiet, though Tarun was now wide awake and fidgeting as always. Luckily, the trip was brief, and they were soon being met at the entrance of the White House itself.

Nohano looked up at the building in awe. He would have thought that after spending his whole life around skyscrapers, and after seeing the massive, imposing hulk of Talpa's palace, that the White House would not be of much interest to him. But it was. The White House, unlike those other buildings, meant something to him. It was a part of his own homeland's history. Nohano grinned.

The woman who met them was a Secret Service agent named Coreen Banks, a woman who was all business, giving her a rather unfriendly appearance. "I have been asked to take you up to the Oval Office," she told the group, nodding politely to them. "If you'll follow me, please?"

"Okay," said Nohano, not sure if he was supposed to reply or not. He felt distinctly out of place here, his bright armor clashing badly with the subdued decor of the building. He almost felt like an anachronism, surrounded by modern technology, and clad in ancient, mystical armor. 'Oh boy,' he thought. 'It just gets weirder and weirder.'

And the surprises were not over yet. The Ronin followed Coreen Banks down several hallways, until they approached an ornate set of double doors that for a very brief moment reminded Nohano of Talpa's palace. The agent opened the door to admit them all, and nervously, Nohano stepped in.

---

The Oval Office was exactly as it looked on the television. There was a big, polished desk, several potted plants, some big, fancy (bulletproof, no doubt) windows, and some shelves and curio cabinets. A second door led off somewhere else, though it was closed, so Nohano had no idea where it went. An American flag and the flag of the District of Columbia hung from their poles behind the desk.

The president, Rhyann Cavanaugh, stood at one end of the desk, in front of two people in black suits—Secret Service. She was a rather short woman, with blond hair and brown eyes, clad in a pair of dress pants and a blazer. But what astonished Nohano was not the sight of the president, nor the resplendent Oval Office. It was the Japanese man standing on the president's right-hand side. Nohano had never met the man in person, but had dreamed of him, and heard his voice. Nohano could not help but gape.

Tarun stepped into the office then, the others close behind him, and froze on seeing the man. "Yasuo!" he cried, laughing and running to the man.

Yasou smiled and bent down to hug the boy, maneuvering around the Daybreak armor in order to embrace him. "I said we would meet again, little one," he said, straightening up and looking down on the boy with pride.

"I'm glad you were right!" Demetrius, Suisei, and Amaya, who had also had met the man, looked at him with expressions varying from shy to fond.

Nohano suddenly looked back to the president, who looked faintly amused, and felt himself blush deeply. What a miserable first impression he had to be making with his gaping and his silence, and he their leader! He paused for a moment, then took off his helmet. Here, he felt he was safe in doing so. He caught Yasuo's nod of approval as Nohano stepped forward, extending a hand to the president, first making sure his armor was not too hot to touch. "Sorry, ma'am," he said. "Guess that was pretty rude of me. I'm kinda out of my element here."

The woman smiled, taking Nohano's hand and giving it a firm, friendly shake. "That's all right, Mr. Nohano." Nohano blinked, wondering how she knew his name, wondering how much she had been told about them.

Go ahead and armor down if you want, Nohano said to the others, suiting word to deed. He banished his main armor, but decided to leave the riot gear on. He felt far safer in it, and though he knew this was a safe environment, he wasn't quite up to leaving himself that vulnerable just yet. The others obviously felt the same way, for soon the entire group was clad similarly.

"Please, have a seat," invited the president, gesturing to several fancy chairs along one wall of the office.

Nohano nodded and walked over to one, trying not to get smudge marks on it. His riot gear was filthy, and still full of soot from the burned out tree he had nestled in for warmth. All in all he was not very presentable. None of them were.

"I expect you are wondering why I wanted to meet you all. Mr. Nohano—you lead this group, correct?"

Taken by surprise, Nohano blinked, looking briefly at his friends, before nodding his head in answer. Y-yes, ma'am." Killian grasped his left arm, and Nohano shot him a grateful look. He was more nervous than he'd expected to be!

"I have, of course, been advised since the beginning of the things that have happened in San Francisco, though at first I had thought it was a terrorist attack. That is, of course, what the newspeople have been told." Nohano nodded, remembering the similar news reports from the Irwindale Faire. "But as the reports began to spread from the United States to other countries, I received a very interesting phone call from Mr. Toshitada here." She indicated Yasuo before continuing. "At first I was disinclined to believe him—his story was quite fantastic, and I simply got his contact information and sent some of my agents to investigate him. But the next call I received was from Keiji Ijiri, Japan's Prime Minister. He presented me with news clippings and ancient news tapes, from the end of the twentieth century. As you may know, this has happened once before, in Toyama, Japan."

"We did know," said Amaya quietly, her tone astonished. "But we didn't think that anyone else would possibly remember."

The president chuckled. "Coincidentally, Mr. Ijiri was alive during those horrible attacks, a child of only five. He remembered them, and had kept careful records of what happened as he grew into adulthood. When he gained the position of Prime Minister, he had a file opened within his government for the Dynasty. He was able to provide all the information I could possibly want about them. And when I contacted Mr. Toshitada, he was able to provide yet more."

Yasuo spoke up then. "When I could not locate you," he said, "I concluded you must have gone after Talpa. I met with the president and gave her all the information I could, telling her what would happen when you succeeded, and what to look out for." Nohano noticed he had said "when" you succeeded, not "if", and smiled at the show of confidence. "That is why the riot squad was so quick to notice and detain you. Especially as you were in full armor. They were told to expect a possible appearance of Talpa's warlords."

Nohano felt floored—that people other than themselves knew of this, that the Prime Minister of Japan had called on their behalf— "I-I don't really blame them," he said finally. "Besides, you know we couldn't have done it without your help, sir," he said to Yasuo. "Aside from giving half of us the armor orbs, you gave us information we needed."

Yasuo smiled in appreciation of the acknowledgement, bowing briefly to Nohano. "Thank you," he said. "It was an honor to fulfill my destiny in creating the armor, and locating the Ronin."

"Was it you who sent our armor to Rashida and me?"

"To Rashida, yes," said Yasuo. "But it was Amaya's grandmother who sent you yours."

Nohano blinked as Amaya made a sound of astonishment. "She never told me!" she exclaimed indignantly.

Yasuo smiled. "No, child. She did not. She did not know, then, that you were to be a Ronin. Only that Nohano here was to be Wildfire. I imagine she had dreams of her own."

"Crikey," said Killian softly, and Nohano knew what he meant. It really was too much to take in!

"And so," said the president briskly, standing up from her chair. Nohano stood up too, though the fatigue from the battle almost did not allow him to. "To the point. I would like you all to stay here at the White House for tonight. As Yasuo has told me, you've likely been through a lot tonight, and I would be honored if you would accept my hospitality. There are hot showers, and a hot meal to be served. We have several medics on staff who can tend your injuries, until your healer has recuperated." She smiled at Rashida, and it was clear that the woman knew damn near as much as the Ronin themselves!

"I think that's a good idea, ma'am," said Nohano gratefully. "Thank you."

The president nodded. "You're welcome. As for those of you who do not have citizenship in this country yet, if you wish, I will see to it that you attain it. I know most of you are underage, and for those who need it, I will arrange for your emancipation as well, if you so choose."

Well—this was it. Nohano had not expected the decision to be sprung so swiftly on his friends, and he stayed silent, trying not to even think. He bit his lip, and took a couple of steps back, looking up almost timidly for his friends' answers.

"I have come here to find my path," said Rashida.

"And have I," agreed Demetrius, looking back at Nohano with a fond smile.

Nohano felt that he could nearly faint with relief as Amaya, Xan, Suisei, and Tarun also said they intended to stick with the group. Finally, Nohano turned to look at Killian, half-dreading what he might say. But when Killian put an arm around him, when he caught his friend's mental whisper, he turned and hugged the boy.

"Looks like we all stay," said Amaya.

I was afraid, said Nohano. I'd be miserable to lose anyone. He blushed as he admitted this, but no one teased him, and he understood that they felt the same. They would no more leave their family than to join up with Talpa.

"Then I will help you," said the president seriously. "I owe you all a great deal. Yasuo is of the firm opinion that unchecked, this demon would have slowly spread his control over the entire country. And from what I have seen and researched, I agree. San Francisco is free because of you, and the country safe."

Nohano felt himself blush again, especially when Xander teasingly congratulated him over the mind link.

"I will have you shown the guest rooms," said the president. "And tomorrow we can begin to put these things into motion."

Nohano shook the woman's hand once more, feeling nothing more than a desire to sleep. "Thank you, Ms. President," he said gratefully.

"I will be staying a little while as well," said Yasuo, "and learn of your adventures. I'm very proud of you all. I knew when I met you all, either in person or in dream, that you would well fulfill your destinies."