Field report #23
Subject's 1 and 2 have been apprehended. Their location has been discovered by the Major, and the capture has proceeded as planned.
Damaged sustained by the Subjects is estimated to be minimal, but significant bruising and cuts are to be expected on 1's face over the next few hours. Permanent damage is not expected to occur, as per instructions.
Transportation has been acquired, and the convoy is moving towards the designated target point on schedule, estimates of mission completion are 4-5 hours.
Next report shall be delivered upon completion.
-R
Thump!
The brain; the center of every living organism in existence. A delicate bundle of nerves and synapses, storing every bit of information of a lifetime. Every moment of existence, every infinitesimally small function in the body, the brain is there, regulating and remembering.
Thump!
It was the one organ you couldn't live without. The advancement of medical science had allowed for almost any other section of a body, any part of the human being, to be replaced. A kidney had a dialysis machine. A limb had its prosthetics. Even a heart had it's artificial likeness. But the brain, the very center of the human soul, could not be replaced.
Thump!
So, due to these important facts, getting hit in the head with a gun stock with a significant amount of force was, well, let's just say, not the best for your health.
Thump!
Especially if said essential organ was constantly thumping.
It hurt like an absolute bitch; the constant thumping only serving to accentuate the pulses of pain traveling through his nerves. Brain, forehead, ears, face; all seemed to be in utter agony.
His mind, a jumble, could only manage the power to open his eyes. He looked around, or, rather, attempted to.
From what he could see of the still-blurry ceiling, it was a crappy place. Rusted metal paneling, with a few small, square lights allowing for the room to have a dim hue that one could just see in. Multiple brown ...discolorations were scattered in small pattern here and there. Like a liquid spilled against a surface.
Best to not think about that last bit.
He tried looking more around the room. Really, he did. But the weariness of his body was an unstoppable force, and his head moved no more than an inch. None of his limbs moved- courtesy of the cold, hard steel that he could feel almost cutting off the circulation to his cold, tired limbs.
What had happened to him?
Wait...the river! That's right, he was attacked with something. Something big. And wooden. He just wanted to find…
Nunnally.
W-where was she? What happened to her?
"Nunna…"
Obviously, his small crisis had led to some movement.
"Hmm, your awake. How… disheartening."
He could only slightly hear the person, as a ringing in his ears made it sound like listening to a radio with severe static. He tried to muster his strength to look.
Large, cold hands stopped the motion.
"Ah ah ah, not yet little one. Soon, though. Soon…."
The hands finally retracted, giving him some much needed room. Who was that, anyways?
He felt his hands become colder, like ice cold. There was something happening in his hands, but he just couldn't tell what. He felt...sleepy.
He could look around later. He… he needed his...his…
Rest.
Operation has concluded. Subject has been delivered to target point. -R
Rathers sighed blissfully as he read the report. Even as he typed out a quick reply to the report, he couldn't lie to himself. He was happy.
The capture had been successful. Not that it wouldn't have been. He had the utmost faith in his guards and (loathe as he was to say it), the Major. Even if Leopards himself was an ass, his work was quality.
Speaking of Leopards, he was out of the picture, sadly unclobbered and sent on his way to some godforsaken desert in the Middle East for who knows what by intelligence. That little sound bite that he had collected was also gone, mysteriously missing from the archived files. That had taken a lot of… unsavory dealings with his contact in Electronic Developments, but he could at least craft his message before it got sent.
That probably ended up saving his head.
He was blameless in the recent escape, with some poor sod responsible for guarding the hallway taking the blame and being unceremoniously fired and sent to a prison on the outskirts of Pendragon.
Not like he cared much for that latter bit.
However, as he sent the reply to his squad in the field, he considered another worry. Considered it, and quickly threw it out.
As might have been gathered from the assigning of blame for the escape, the news of the escape was reported to the palace. Earlier than he wanted, but he couldn't keep the news down forever, so he did it himself. The royalty were outraged, naturally, and there were calls for immediate searches and investigations by a certain angry woman (you can guess who). Not since the last century had a royal been kidnapped in such a manner. So far, the investigation team had found signs of the route, from footprints by the river to witnesses in the city, but a complete picture couldn't be formed.
Even the nobles were a little grumbly over the event. Not so much that they wanted the little bastards to be found, per se, but you can't just go out and say that while expecting a long life, now can you? And besides, it brought up worrying questions as to their own security.
Thank goodness his sponsor was an influential and… liberally violent individual. And that he was apart of the investigation himself. Combined with the incompetent members of the investigation following the "skilled" members he now controlled, any resistance to such methods could be crushed.
His promised Baron rank would also be granted soon. Well…. at some point soon. He was not able to force out an official date from his sponsor (and he dared not try to), but all indications pointed to it being bestowed upon the completion of the mission, even if his part was over. One part of him understood that, and knew that only success heralded reward.
Another part screamed louder than the first and didn't understand why his reward was contingent on some bastards later down the line. All he had to do was provide some men as security to help defend… something. He wasn't trusted with the location of the operation, much as that got on his nerves.
But, at least his role was finished.
With all that out of the way, maybe he could actually sleep.
Standing up, he signaled to the private whose work station he had taken during the emergency.
"Yes, My Lord!"
"Back to regular duties, Private. I am retiring to my quarters for the rest of the morning, and I am not to be disturbed."
"But, My Lord… it is 1600 hours. You have been in the control room for over 12 hours."
….what?
He looked up to the small, digital clock sitting in the front of the room.16:07.
Well, fuck.
W-where did all his time go? He had been in the control room supervising the search and capture, but he could have sworn it had only taken 6 hours at most. God damn it, he lost out on the entire morning!
"...absolutely no disruptions until morning Private."
"But sir… I don't have the authority to order tha-"
"THEN TELL THE LIEUTENANT COLONEL TO GIVE THE ORDER!"
The private, a little shaken from the ordeal, simply sat down quickly and began to write the order to his commanding officer as instructed. "Yes, My Lord! No disruptions until morning, My Lord!"
Rathers simply went on as if nothing happened.
"...thank you Private."
Turning and beginning his quick march, he finally began to realize how… tired he really was. His legs hurt to move, he had a small headache, and his bones felt hollow. The telltale signs of tiredness just were outright screaming at him now. Like usual, he tried to ignore them for too long to work.
Bottling them up for hours to supervise a complex military operation while sustained by coffee and uppers probably wasn't ...the best thing for his health.
Especially for 14 hours.
After walking (or rather, stumbling) through the security hall towards his private quarters, he quickly collapsed onto his bed. The normally rock-solid mattress and small, hardly-stuffed pillow felt like heaven.
That was his last thought before he drifted off into the warm embrace of sleep.
Ensure the proper application of the constricting straps?
Check
Confirm the identity of the subject?
Check.
Confirm sedation?
Well, obviously not, as the stupid guards had allowed his subject to wake up out of nowhere for a second time and almost ruin his blood extraction.
His most precious subject…
It wasn't often that a lowly doctor such as himself got to examine a member of nobility. And a Prince, no less! Ever since he had joined his new support group, he had been getting all sorts of goodies to play with!
Some might call it a "domestic terror" operation. Others, "treason". He preferred the term "science" and "research", just as much as he would prefer to stab those who called it otherwise with a needle full of hydrochloric acid, sit back, and watch the fun.
Science was fun.
Sighing, he reminded himself that he had work to do. Taking the IV bag full of the precious red fluids, he extracted himself from the old, dirty hospital room. The blood needed testing, as per his instructions. But as for after the testing, he had some… interesting theories about noble blood to test out.
On his way to the blood analysis equipment located in the old lab, he was greeted with the suspicious stares of his group's security detail, who just… watched. These ones were guarding the Princess, who was similarly sedated and restrained, just in case. Can't have her getting broken at all before he did some of his personal tests.
"Don't worry boys, I wouldn't dream of ruining this moment with a bullet in the brain."
But, even as he rattled off the sarcastic comment, he knew it wouldn't do anything for their stares. It never did.
When he reached the lab a few minutes later, he had gotten to work. His employer simply told him to screen the blood and look for anything… abnormal. When he had attempted to argue back that you couldn't expect the noble blood to be normal, all he had gotten was a list of areas to look at and normal values. And a rather abnormal rifle butt in the side.
But, the past was the past. He had work to do.
His list of areas to analyze had steadily grown over the past hours of observation and analysis. The more he thought about the blood, the more ideas that came to him. Especially since he had no idea what he was looking for. Apparently, it hadn't helped him yet.
Hematocrit? 43.7%. Normal.
Platelets? Normal, if a little low due to recent bleeding.
White blood cells? Normal for his age.
Normal, normal, normal!
Well, there went some of his theories as to the nature of the royal uniqueness. But not a single part of the blood was abnormal for a child of his age. Especially not the areas that his employer signaled could have been an indicator of some sort of psychological issue. But, he still had many areas of analysis to cover.
There was the matter of the report, however. Can't just wait until the tests are finished, now could they? Nooo, they needed immediate answers. Picking up the beat-up old radio, he attempted to turn the damn thing on. Electronics was never his specialty.
After a half-minute fumbling with the accursed object, he heard the slight ding that signaled success. He pushed the button.
"Medical Report 2. The blood analysis of the Prince has been carried out. Subject appears to possess no unique blood qualities to explain any abnormalities observed."
"Brief physical analysis reveals no significant abnormalities. Sole mention is of the abnormal height for his age, but the genetics of the royal bloodline make this a non factor."
"Testing shall continue. Conclude report".
Sighing, he still couldn't help holding onto the radio for a moment. He had always expected a response, a noise, even just a simple "thank you" from whoever he was sending the reports to. But, no. His ally had explicitly mentioned that this would be… one way communication.
All the better for his work, however. Chit-chat was unnecessary for his investigations. It would simply be a distraction, like it always was.
Now there was the matter of the karyotype to perform. Maybe something could come up there. Chromosomal irregularities could be what his employer was looking for. Repackaging some of the blood into a freezer for later use, he began to look back at the list of tests to perform, checking of box 7 out of 218. Man, his would be a long night.
But, as long as it furthered his research…
Not entirely a waste of time.
"Have this evening's activities been taken care of, R-9?"
"Yes. The subject has been prepared and is being examined as we speak. The doctor expects him who take up in a matter of hours."
Ugh, hours? Why couldn't that sniveling weasel of a medical man just give him an upper or something? Still, he got the man cheap and, more importantly, off the streets. Which was code word for disposable. He would just have to make him hurt later.
"Blood analysis has shown no results, as well as the physical. Genetic testing is next."
Well, great. Not even a single bit of uniqueness that could have at least solved one mystery. More time, wasted. The genetics would reveal nothing except that he is, indeed, a human. Waste.
"Oh yeah? What about the investigation. I hope you have… encouraged the selected investigators to hamper efforts, like I told you to?"
"Yes. Subjects I-3, I-5, and I-9 have been successfully broken. Subject I-6's strong will has prevented the full control, so I transported him to the prisons as per your orders."
That was... a little abnormal. R-9's Geass should have allowed him to break anyone mentally to his will. Must be a strong will.
He couldn't wait for his visit to the dungeon later, if that was the case.
Still, this child was annoying him. He knew the Order was trying to mass-produce the little Geass children as fast as they could indoctrinate them, but they could at least give them a personality of some type. Yet one more change he would have to make when it was his turn. And it would come. C.C. couldn't hold the group forever. Especially if she couldn't even stop him from taking some of the group's drones.
Secretly, of course. Not like she agreed to it.
Well, well, well. Everything was going according to plan.
"Well, you did do it all. I suppose that that is a good thing. Now, go break the child. After all this trouble, I suppose he should be dealt with quickly."
That child had been a little pest in his side since his birth. Why Charles wanted children, he had no idea. Especially with someone like Marianne. But his resilience, for lack of a better word… well that called for something more direct. More certain. More secretive (mostly due to Marianne). More… painful.
"Yes."
Oh, that reminded him.
"Wait!"
The worker drone stopped and turned briefly around. Unimpressive 5 foot height. Stupidly normal brown eyes. Black hair so cropped he was nearly bald. A thin body in a guarded posture that the idiot never relaxed. Pathetic.
"Quickly does not mean painlessly."
"...what?"
"Even your stupid head should be able to figure that one out. Eventually."
"...I understand."
And, even though the idiot clearly broadcast to the world that he didn't understand, or left.
Well, events should play out quite nicely from here. Especially after his trip to the dungeon to… play with his new toy.
And yes, that does mean rather brutal, fingernail-pulling, arm-breaking, and cutty cutty torture. Obviously. Not like anyone would miss the little stain. Especially since he killed his family just a few days ago.
Well, time to get to it.
It would easily help him to relax after a long day.
He emerged the room a fresh and happy man.
It had been several hours since he had left the concealed beauty of the conference room. The daylight had quickly been replaced by the soft illumination of the crescent moon, still halfway up in the sky.
Not that he could see that at the moment. According to the plans that were in action, the results from the latest… test should be in. And, by that, he meant that the answer he wanted should have been forced out of the boy's mind by now. He was supposed to be awake, after all.
This was a problem that… needed to be solved. Preferably, before anything that he didn't plan for and/or want decided to appear out of thin air. The largest problem with unknown factors is that they have unknown consequences. Naturally, he wanted to avoid these as much as possible.
Naturally, after his life experiences in the past several decades, he was thankful for so little things that you could count them using your fingers. But Charles not yet realizing that this was him was one that almost made that list.
His brother finding out would be… unfortunate. While he himself was never fully sure as to how much Charles cared for his kids (outward appearances suggested negativity, but knowing his brother, they could always be faked), he was certain that his brother would want the little weasel that decided to make a fool of him and his security forces and string them up for the public to see.
Quite literally.
But those were worries to be dealt with at a later date. Here and now, he would get his answers. If not, then someone would pay.
Quickly logging in to the large monitor displayed on the wall, he brought up an audio channel with his agent. Even that idiot knew how a phone should work.
The channel, after ringing for several seconds, finally opened.
"Has it been done?"
He waited. Silence.
Useless.
Even he, after his decades of experience, got very anxious during such events, and the silence wasn't helping! "R-9, have your orders been carried out?! What is the answer?!"
The idiot still wasn't responding. All he heard was something dripping. Incompetent fools. He sent them in with strict time requirements, a fully equipped and secret laboratory, and enough guns to defend the palace, and-
...
Unless...
He wasn't used to pessimism, but when things always go your way and optimism wins for so long, it does have a way of creeping up on you and hitting you in the face with a ton of bricks. As was happening presently.
Ending the call, he quickly input another number. At least this time, it was promptly answered by his subordinate.
"Bunker 38, responding."
Finally, some response. "Cancel whatever orders you dimwits have. Immediately investigate the Downtown General Hospital in your area."
"Yes, my lord. I will send a team out immediately."
Call end.
Well, at least some of them were competent. But he did wonder why his stupid agent didn't answer. Wonder, and slightly worry. For the plan, mind you, not the idiots.
He got his answer in about a half hour, when the investigations reported in. Early on in the reports, everything seemed fine. The hospital appeared abandoned, and the traps were still placed.
And then…
"Sir, report!"
The urgency of such a report meant… "Yes, what is it."
"Bodies observed in the halls! All are dead, my lord."
No.
It couldn't be.
"What bodies exactly are they, you idiot!?"
An audible gulp was heard.
"They are… the guards, My Lord. All shot in the back."
….what!?
No!
This couldn't happen, not now! The whole plan would fall apart! "Listen to me. There are two children somewhere in the stupid building. Where are they?!"
It took a few seconds, but a reply came in a small, trembling voice. "Small footsteps have been seen outside of the rear entrance, my lord. Two sets, both small. These children… are nowhere to be seen."
Hello all! Offtimeotaku here, after a long break. Yeah….
Turns out the start of the new school year has been difficult. Great! Between the papers to write and my job, it has been difficult to find time to write more of my story, but it has been done!
I cannot promise that I will have a consistent upload schedule, or that the holidays won't wreck things even more.
Oh yeah. Happy Holidays!
I promise that, while this chapter is a little short, the next one should finish off this mini-arc. Emphasis on "should". I realized that I am probably trying too hard to write this area of the story and not moving fast enough to canon. That will be my next goal.
Anyways, go ahead and leave a review! I love reading them.
Have a nice day!