Chapter 9

The eyes that stared through the strands of hair sent a shiver down Momoki's spine. A dark feral glare that had no business belonging to the man he once knew … and that was the painful realization. Right now, Narihisago wasn't the man he knew. A vague satisfactory smile kept teasing the corners of his mouth.

If that wasn't bad enough, Momoki now found himself more or less trapped between two serial killers. Filing into the office behind him the rest of the Wellside crew surrounded Fukuda, who had his hands in pockets and fortunately seemed to be more curious than into causing any mischief at the moment. Let it stay that way, I have my hands full with … oh God, I don't even know what to do!

Narihisago turned on his feet to face him. Everything about him deceptively relaxed. "I told you I'd take care of it. It's done. The building's in one piece without any innocent deaths."

"That's not the point." Momoki tightened a fist, he didn't even know what to say. He'd heard a good deal of the exchange eavesdropping outside of the door. That cold monotone delivery shook him. He'd seen the footage of the other cornered deaths. But there had been no audio. That voice—it hadn't even sounded like Narihisago. It sounded as though he'd been possessed.

Folding his arms, Narihisago gave him a sideways look. "Alright fine, how long are you going to toss my ass into solitary for this? Let's hear it."

"I … ," Momoki searched for the words.

"You're disgusted. It's all over your body language. I get it. You know what? I could make this whole thing a lot easier on everyone." Narihisago craned his neck and searched the office. "Kokufu got a mirror in here? I might as well try this theory out."

"What are you talking about?" There was something about the irritation creeping into his voice again.

He huffed a breath. "I can tell you're sick of this shit … well, so am I. Truth is, I am a serial killer. Stands to reason I should be able to corner my own God-be-damned self."

Momoki snapped to attention. "Don't you do it! Don't you dare do it! I'll never forgive you if you do!"

"Never forgive me?" He cocked a half smile. "Wow, what a line to use. You clearly haven't forgiven me for pulling the trigger on that savage brute, the Challenger. Knowing the truth behind it all still hasn't changed that one iota. See? You flinched."

Momoki hadn't even felt it. But out of the corner of his eye the barely guarded reactions of the crew told it all. He had flinched. He took a deep breath to calm his nerves. It barely helped. "Just wait, I haven't made up my mind yet. This was clearly a different circumstance, I'll need to talk it through with Kokufu."

The short laugh was not what he expected in reply. Narihisago watched him through half closed eyes. "And that right there about sums it up."

Wakashika shifted uncomfortably slightly behind Momoki's shoulder. His eyes kept darting to and away from the pool of blood behind the desk, the limp hand laid across the pistol grip.

"What?" Momoki asked without much thought, distracted by his crew's nervous motions.

"The thanks I get." Narihisago shook his head. "It's not like I expected to get a 'good work' for this particular action … but still. The perspective still eludes you."

"A man is dead!"

He pointed behind the desk. "A bit longer and he would have turned Kura into a mass grave. But please, let's all bemoan his loss."

"How can you be so cold about this?"

His eyes didn't falter a fraction. "Because I've seen his convictions. I've had a mind's eye view of his personal war crimes and how he twisted them into the visage of a hero. I've watched him order his men to repeatedly pull the trigger on innocent victims knowing damn well what he was doing. But please, go ahead, place him on a pedestal. That is what he wants, after all."

"We are detectives—"

"You are a detective!"

"—we are not executioners!"

Out in the hallway voices echoed. "Over this way! I heard someone in the chief's office."

Narihisago and Fukuda both took a step back, creating a wider gap from the door. In a moment, when Momoki turned he could see why. Six members of security filed in. Itoh, the head of security, along with Soma and Hagashi at the forefront. They were of course, still unarmed.

Itoh heaved a sigh of relief when he spied the Wellside crew. "Good, you're safe. The first one's we've found since we brok—" he instantly froze as his eyes caught the inmates among them. Crouching down as if about to bull rush, he thrust a finger toward the pair. "Seize them!"

Luckily, none of them seemed eager to comply to that order as Momoki held up a hand. "Easy. They actually helped us out."

"But they're—"

"I know. But don't you think we have more important intruders to worry about? Like the rest of those soldiers wandering around here."

One of the guards edged closer to the desk, skirting the now much more subdued Narihisago whose gaze was suddenly claimed by the floor. The moment the guard caught sight of Hirai's body his color drained. "Sir, look!"

Itoh rushed, as much as a guy his robust size could hustle, to the side of the desk. "We got a body. Who responsible for this?"

Narihisago didn't look up as he muttered, "He pulled the trigger on himself."

Snapping a quick look his way, Soma covered his mouth. "You didn't … "

His head only sunk lower.

"Didn't what?" Itoh's eyebrow cocked. When only a tense silence answered him, he shouted, "Hey grunt, I asked you a question. What the hell's going on here?"

Nervously, Soma pointed. "I told you about this before when we had to move Hase."

"Yeah, cause of some dude who messed with him … " The gears seemed to slowly turn, Itoh's hand slowly lifted. "Wait … this is him? The talker? Did he just … do this?"

Fukuda crossed his arms and murmured, "Captain Obvious earns a gold star sticker."

Momoki darted a quick silencing glare his way before turning to Itoh. To Momoki's surprise, Narihisago remained silent. "Itoh, there is an explanation for all this."

Puffing his chest out, Itoh thrust a finger into his palm. "Start talking."

"I did it." Narihisago stared through the tops of his eyes at Itoh, attracting his immediate attention. "I pushed him into pulling the trigger on himself."

"Narihisago." Momoki snapped, "I said we'd handle this later."

But Itoh was already posturing, reaching for his empty holster. "So you're the trouble maker I keep hearing about."

"That trouble maker is critical to our operations." Stepping forward, Momoki blocked Itoh from advancing on him. "He's our primary pilot, as you've been told countless times over the past months. Now please, the situation is under control for the moment. Once things are secure, we can return them down to the cell block. For now, we need to focus on finding the rest of the intruders."

"They're dead." Narihisago remarked to the floor.

Everyone turned to look at him.

He blinked slowly. "That was part of his plan … remember the keys in the dive? Two minds in sync for a single purpose? This was it, but it was more than two—it was his mind and the consensus of the whole squad. A full on suicide mission, their final blaze of glory. Bet if you look his handgun is now empty."

Hagashi edged around the desk, careful not to step into the blood. He reached and plucked the gun from the loose grip, pulling the mag. His eyes flashed wide. He held it up, empty. "How did you know?"

Togo lowered her head. "So … we're safe, but they've all … they've taken their own lives?"

Narihisago nodded, lifting his chin towards Hirai's body. "He would have waited and gone out with the bomb."

"That's good news." Wakashika wiped his brow. "I mean, we've avoided that part. Though, if he was gonna trigger the bomb, where is the remote?"

Soma scratched his head. "There are plenty of other ways. Maybe there's another guy with it, or timers, or … wait, a bomb?"

"Yeah." Momoki met Itoh's stare. "That's what Narihisago was able to warn us about."

"How would he know? He some kind of psychic?"

This is possibly the most frustrating day of my life. Seriously? Itoh wants to press this now instead of cleaning up after the infiltration? There are far more pressing matters than … "Narihisago? Are you alright?"

One minute he was standing there, shaking his head as if to clear it. The next, he went completely limp again. Momoki caught his weight and guided it to the floor even as security panicked. "Everybody stay calm. It's alright. Damn it, he's got a nosebleed this time. Does she have any concept what this is doing to him?"

"Twice in one day?" Wakashika leaned forward. "There has to be a good reason. I mean, there certainly was last time, right? I doubt she did it just to congratulate him … " his voice grew more timid, " … on killing."

Taking out his handkerchief, Momoki soaked up the trickle of blood. It wasn't a lot, but enough, and certainly not a comforting sign. "I don't know, but when he comes to, we'll have a better idea. For now, we wait."

Narihisago lay on his side as Momoki had eased him down. His chest rose and fell in a sleeping rhythm. His eyes beneath the lids moving in that odd pattern Togo had recognized. What is it this time? Why are you doing this, Kiki?