I do not own the rights to Neon Genesis Evangelion, or any of the characters, equipment, or locations written in this fanfiction. The purpose of this fanfiction is merely for the non-profit enjoyment of other readers. If requested by Gainax, Hideki Anno, or other parties which represent aforementioned objects in this story, I will remove it promptly.
Chapter XVI:
I yawned, waking from a deep sleep. My neck was craned at an odd angle against the back of the seat on the private jet. Winking, my left eye still taped down and covered, the glare of the interior lighting temporarily blinded me. Looking out of the window to my right, the moon was out, still in the first quarter of it's phase. Misato sat to my left, and nudged me in the shoulder. "We are just passing over California," she mentioned. "You slept through our refueling at San Francisco."
"It's been ten hours already?" I groaned, rubbing my right eye. The air conditioning system was still operating, inducing all the hairs on my arms to stand on end. Wearing a pair of blue jeans and one of the light pink shirts Maya insisted on buying, I had passed through security without question, although I had received a few odd stares for my eyepatch. Showing our NERV identification got us through without so much as a cursory inspection. Had I known that, I would have taken a weapon. However, the major felt more at ease when I left the Jericho at home.
"Yes," Misato answered. "Just another hour, and we will reach Third Branch."
"They really want us to take Unit-04 off their hands? Isn't there a pride issue?"
"Not really," the woman stated, staring straight ahead. "After the disaster with both of their production types, they never want to see an Eva again."
"I can't really blame them," I said. "I don't see an ethical issue, but having a walking bomb as your prized creation doesn't look so good on the resume. Still, I can't help thinking this feels like a setup."
Katsuragi turned to me. "Third Branch will not try anything, I promise. If they do, the Committee will take action."
"That's what I'm worried about. Don't you remember the Jet Alone incident?" Misato stared at me in surprise, her mouth beginning to part as if to ask how I knew, but she went back to staring ahead towards the cockpit. "Unit-03 and Unit-04 both proving unreliable? Both would have given First Branch an edge, especially against an invading force. I'll feel better once I'm certain there aren't any surprises waiting for me."
"You make a valid point," Misato sighed. "We will go over it with a brush."
"I believe you mean a fine-tooth comb."
Misato glared, then returned to staring ahead.
•••••••••••••
Unit-04 was nothing like the others. It was clean, uncontaminated from human souls. I thought I could almost detect a hint of that new car smell in the entry plug. More importantly, there were no residual thought patterns. According to Maya, every time one synchronized with the Eva, no matter how much the techs scrubbed the software, there would always be traces of thought noise and memories from the pilot present in the cache. That explained why each time I synchronized with Unit-02, it felt far more familiar than just getting used to the plug. But Unit-04 was different. It had never held a human pilot.
I would be the first, and the closest pilot to the Evangelion. "You and I will get along just fine," I breathed, running my hands over the entry plug controls. Misato seemed to give me an odd look, walking by the entry plug on the temporary scaffolding erected to access the Eva. The logistical support vehicles, including a heavy transport truck, had all arrived waiting for a qualified pilot. Now it was just up to us to check the systems, verify it was salvageable, and synchronize just long enough to set it on the truck.
"Should I leave you two alone?" Katsuragi teased.
I glared, then turned back to the controls. "This mission is just to retrieve the Eva, correct? You have no intention of my piloting Unit-04 in combat, do you?"
"Like I said, I would have preferred anyone other than you to do this," the major answered, carrying herself as though she were conducting a business meeting. "You still have yet to prove your loyalty." I thought the conversation ended, but just as I heard the woman's footsteps on the metal grating, she stopped and turned to face me again. "Thank you, for saving Rei."
"The consequences would have been too great otherwise," I stated coldly. The last comment caused Misato to raise an eyebrow, which I barely saw out of the corner of my eye. My vision in my right eye was bad, and while I had my goggles with me as I prepped the plug, they were uncomfortable out in the hot desert air.
The black plugsuit was almost unbearable under the Nevada sun, but I would be in the cool, refreshing L.C.L. soon enough. That was the first time I had ever considered L.C.L. refreshing, but anything was better than plastic and neoprene in the desert. It was ten more minutes before I signaled Misato with my report. "Everything is nominal," I said over the portable radio. "Let's get this over with. It's too hot in this suit."
•••••••••••••
All of the fans of Eva believe Unit-04 to be metallic gray, it's head similar to Unit-03. However, I must set the record straight. One look at Unit-04, and it made perfect sense how the mass-production series design was more of an evolutionary step. First, it was gray, but only gray primer because it had yet to be painted. Next, and more importantly, the shoulder palettes were reduced to half the normal length. The skeletonized, light-weight prog knives' handles were fully exposed, resting flush against the forward end of each palette, while the blades sat inside the protective armor. There was no automated linkage to retrieve the knives. All you had to do was reach up and grab them, pulling them from the sheath-like shoulder palettes. This feature, I had to say, was one of the better ideas incorporated in the last of the manually piloted production models.
The most distinctive feature, however, was the head. While similar in shape to Unit-03, there were no eyes. The trapezoidal, metallic teeth were painted in high visibility yellow, the kind of shade you'd see on a caution sign. Most of the head was extensively armored, everything streamlined and seamless. There were only two cavities below where the eyes would be, like a pit viper. I later found out they served as the wide angle foward looking infrared cameras. The main cavity of the skull was entirely taken up by a pulse-doppler radar assembly, similar to the MiG-29. Knowing I could identify thirty targets and lock on to twenty simultaneously to guide supporting ground or air-based smart weapons gave me a level of comfort that no other Evangelion could. Combined with an infrared laser designator good up to 2 kilometers, Unit-04 was the perfect ground support Eva.
"They were smart when they built this one," I muttered to myself. "They obviously wanted it to fight alongside a normal military force." But why had they built it to support ground troops instead of the form as Unit-03 took, as an infantry model? I had a theory of my own, but it was based on events yet to come. With Unit-04 assisting NERV ground units, the Eva could easily turn the tide of the upcoming battle for Tokyo-3. But Third Branch hadn't known about what would come, or had they? Perhaps this Eva was built to prevent the mass production models from having complete domination over the city. Then the fact it destroyed the second complex for Third Branch could be chocked up to sabotage by a Seele infiltrator.
But that didn't make any sense. Instead, I was considering the opposite. What if Unit 04 was truly meant to serve Seele, and it's sabotage was only temporary, to keep First Branch from acquiring it? Later, when we had given up on ever seeing it again, Seele could come back to Nevada and commandeer it as their own. One Eva against the others would be foolish, but given the capabilities of this Eva to coordinate attacks with ground and air units, a simultaneous attack by ground units severing the umbilical cables to the remaining Eva series and an S2 powered Eva as the brunt of the force would be unstoppable.
"You were meant to be our enemy, weren't you?" I asked, the entry plug screwing into place. Immediately I was at the controls, beginning the start-up procedures. The L.C.L. was being pumped in now, soaking my ankles, then my calves, and up to my knees. But that didn't stop me from completing my task. I had taken the extra effort to train. With Maya's assistance, I was able to bring Unit-02 fully online in under a minute with my eyes closed from the moment the hatch was sealed. It was possible because when inactive, the entry plug would store all of my commands in the cache memory until physical mating with the Eva was completed. The real trick was remembering all the switches and their meaning in both English and Japanese. But that was nothing regular drilling couldn't fix.
Fortunately for me, the entry plug brought along to activate Unit-04 was a spare for Unit-02. It lacked the equipment necessary to handle the radar and infrared inputs, but again that was not a problem. I would be guided to the truck bed by radio. Fifteen seconds later, the L.C.L. completely filled the cabin, and I was only two commands away from being completely operational. "Begin pre-synchronization proced-" Misato began.
"Unit-04 fully operational," I interrupted the major. "I read all necessary systems nominal." Ibuki giggled softly over the tac-radio. Misato switched to a visual display, her face pulled into an expression of surprise. "Weapons lock disengaged, ready to arm."
Maya checked the portable laptop, the lieutenant leaning against the side of the heavy transport truck cabin. "Thirty-two seconds," the brunette reported. "Excellent work, Delta-Five." Misato did not seem to understand at first, but Maya explained it to her. While they conversed in Japanese, I could see the purple-haired woman roll her eyes.
I had insisted on a codename to keep my identity secret during open radio transmissions. As the fourth pilot on active duty, designated the Fifth Child, Delta-Five seemed an appropriate choice. "Yes... I have to agree, Delta-Five," Misato growled. I knew regardless of my skill, they would never accept me as a real pilot. That was, until the report of the .30 caliber round sounded, puncturing the chest of one of the assistant technicians.
•••••••••••••
Immediately radio traffic was scrambled. The visual of Misato ducking behind the truck jumped to a blur, then static. While the Eva was completely operational, I had no means of communicating, or even seeing what was happening in the outside world. Well, I was not entirely cut off from the world, as I could hear the bullets bounce off the armor.
The transmission came back maybe three minutes later, an unknown man's voice speaking in clear English. "Pilot of the Evangelion, you will surrender the unit to us, or your commanding officer will die." The man was caucasian, in his early thirties, and was wearing a pixel-based desert camouflage uniform. The badges and printed text on his uniform clearly indicated he was in the Marines. He began to repeat in fluent Japanese, but that is when I interrupted him.
"I am an American citizen, and I speak fluent English," I grumbled. "Your execution of the trap was quite impressive. Let me guess, those were M40A1 rifles in .308 Winchester, supplemented by a sniper team using the M82-A1 Barrett, correct?"
The soldier stared at me, and grinned. "They train you well."
"That's no training from NERV," I answered curtly. "That's what I study up on for a hobby. Do you know if I can get my hands on a new FM 5-31 manual? The last edition I had was from back in 1965."
"I will not repeat myself, pilot! Maybe you will listen to your commanding officer. But you already know I speak fluent Japanese. Don't try anything funny!"
"Get this through your head. I don't speak Japanese!" The last comment both infuriated Misato and caught the soldier off-guard. Being shoved forward to the portable terminal, I could see a few purple bruises across Katsuragi's face. "Talk to me, Misato. What did they do to you and Maya?"
"Nothing... serious," she answered. Leaning forward, she tried to whisper into the microphone, but was swiftly jerked away by the soldier. "Don't let them win!" she screamed, taking a swift punch to the jaw. Once again the soldier came back into view, holding up an M9 Beretta.
"So, why the sudden change in tactics?" I grunted. "This isn't the pathetic, paramilitary force Clinton was trying to use to keep Monica out of the paper."
"What?" the soldier hollered.
"I mean, before America's armed forces were nothing but a joke, a tool of the corrupt United Nations." I smiled a sadistic, feral smile. "I like this change, but there's just one problem."
"Oh?"
"You're making me mad." I knew what I had to do, and being an untrustworthy pilot, there was no future with dignity for me, anyway. Reaching forward, I began to type in the commands for the self-destruct system. As I did so, however, the S2 drive immediately cut out, and the entry plug went dark. "Son of a..."
•••••••••••••
Again with the beatings. Why did it always have to be constant interrogation and beatings? Well, this time it was different. Shoving my head into a bucket of water, the soldier who addressed me before on the tac-radio held me under for nearly a minute, pulled me up, punched me in the stomach to knock the wind out of me, and then repeated the process. My lungs burned from exhaustion as the technique was repeated for nearly ten minutes straight.
What annoyed me even more was the fact I was still in my plugsuit, and on my knees in a compromising position. If I had a knife on hand, I would have introduced the soldier's kneecap to chronic arthritis. However, my hands were secured behind my back with handcuffs, so I couldn't even keep my head out of the rusted steel bucket. Jerking me back up by the nape of my neck, the man snarled, his rough, unshaven face inches from mine. "Well?"
Coughing, I took in each breath a little too vigorously, my head feeling dizzy. When I didn't respond, the soldier threw me across the concrete floor of one of the remaining hangers of Third Branch. I landed hard on my back and smacked my head against the floor. The concrete was cool in the shade of the ruined buildings, and I was exhausted. Before he could ask again, I was fast asleep.
I woke sometime later, the sun beginning to dip below the horizon of the desert. I could hear sobbing nearby, and opening my eye, saw Maya to my right. Her khaki uniform jacket was torn in several places along the sleeves, small cuts staining her clothes with traces of blood. Her face was also bruised, and from what it appeared, her nose was bent out of shape.
Then I noticed the trousers, which were not part of the normal uniform. No, these were olive drab green, and were clearly from a soldier's battle dress. The fact Ibuki wasn't wearing any shoes, either stood out in my mind. Sitting up, the pain in my abdomen returned. I had been punched way too many times for my own good. But Maya needed someone, and turning my head, I noticed Misato was nowhere to be seen.
"Are you okay?" I asked. The brunette just shook her head, wrapping her crossed arms tighter around her chest. Now I was starting to get angry. I knew what they had done, and depending on how cooperative Misato was, they would most likely do the same to her. I clenched my handcuffed fists, frustrated that I was mad, and I couldn't even punch anything to take off the edge. Then it came to me. The way Maya was hugging herself, her hands were free.
"Maya," I whispered. "Where is Misato?"
Ibuki started to shudder, and pointed to a bunker not a hundred yards away. "They... they want you next..."
Clenching my teeth, I hissed just above a whisper. "Yeah..." There were pieces of re-bar and steel conduit scattered over the floor. "Maya, can you get me a hacksaw, a pair of bolt cutters, or anything?" Maya stared at me in confusion. I always wondered just how much English she knew. Of course she wouldn't know the words I needed to say. As a result, I tried to stand up, and jostled my wrists. "To cut these," I said. "Need something to cut."
Maya understood, but was hesitant. "Maya, listen to me," I grunted. "We will take them... one by one."
End of Chapter XVI
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