A/N: I failed in uploading chappies. I also needed to reformat, so I was too tired...didn't bother putting a note at the end =_=
Well, happy reading~
06_The_Runaway_
If only it did.
However, that wasn't the only thing out there that could pester her in this short trek. When she had just stashed away that oversized jacket, a distress signal went off in the distance:
"Rats, this place is downright...evil! Now where's-" Yet another person had been entrapped in this diabolical labyrinth, and she knew who it was. When she explored for the person, it occurred to her that whoever configured all these twists and turns despised simplicity. Either that or she ought to get lost first before finding the...lost.
Wait.
She probably already was.
"Aaaargh...Maybe this was a bad idea after all..."
"Hey kid, you're early." A not-so-pepped-up Dr. Torres said as the specialist walked inside, almost nostalgically. The burning passion of saving the day had already floated far off for the two of them; all they really wanted was a fresh start of tomorrow. If they could make it through the remainder of today. While he was making preparations, the leading doctor had a more pressing concern about that orphan who hadn't yet returned for lunch (the diagnostician was nice enough to include something for him, too). The cause could be anything, and hovering over that wouldn't do much good during the operation— he could always save it for later.
Maybe not. The assisting paramedic somehow read his mind, bringing up, "By the way...did you see that boy around? Erhard?" She became cautious of her volume with the duo of nurses mingling in their prep work nearby. In a sincere manner, she continued, "He ran out on me for some reason...I won't be able to catch him until tomorrow." Tension evolved into a worry within her voice, "I just— thought someone could...help him..."
His peace broke with that. But it did so without portraying on his face the revelation he acquired from what was riddled in her words. As nurses carted the patient into the room, his mind, suspended at an unknown impasse, could not process the chorus of cooperation occurring across from him. He pieced himself together just as Maria, who was executing the final checks before the commencing, terminated the small talk between them with, "We can hold that off for after. Do you need anyone to conference the procedure or are you all..?"
"I'm ready." The prisoner said in a drab tone, his focus orienting to the surgery and nothing more when he selected the antibiotic gel.
A jolt hit the paramedic deep down, somehow invoking intuition to make her laugh, "Come on, this should be a picnic for you. You don't have to..." The proper phrase to avoid sounding like a distraction had always been difficult to select. The probability of getting this guy to liven up in the OR was probably as unrealistic as winning the lottery, but in spite of that, the woman heartened, "Hey, I don't even know why Chief even asked me to back you up..." The first incision had been made in the meantime.
With the vitals at the maximum and no imminent threat, the doctors who routinely prohibited needless conversation would now and then partake in it. The assistant passed along requisite surgical instruments and spark commentary on casual life; the lead gave abbreviated, single-syllable answers while anti-inflammatory treated the reddened areas of the upper intestines with each injection.
"Now that I that I think about it...you do look pretty dang familiar. But I can't seem to-" Something clicked. The grassy-green iris of the lady's eyes glowed, her question: "Hey...what's your name? You never told any of us." The nurses in the back seemed to enter the idea with silent expectations. But instead of coercing the startled surgeon into the spotlight, the EMT wedged into her rambling, "You and that boy aren't related, but I swear, I heard of that kid's name before. I didn't remember his face, though." She never pursued him for the subject.
CR-SO1 couldn't balance his attention span. He easily kept track of the simple procedure, and barely held onto the woman's impertinent statements, which formed and seceded like ocean waves from time to time:
"I wonder how he ended up in an orphanage; he seems totally fine with it, so I guess he must've been there for a long time."
"That fire from the beginning of this week was a lot like the one Little Rose and I were in. Oh— here's the tray."
"This is not going to make any sense, but I think the kid's too sweet for a guy..."
Aside from the gender tangle, the 'sweet' factor troubled him. "What?" Did she not witness Erhard's barbaric 'welcoming trip?' Had she not yet speculated the orphan's mannerisms towards others, especially with food? The man sutured the opening of the operation field closed as he neared completion, denoting, "You're not considering the main points...the tape." His hand extended to the right. "He had other options." Maria humbly handed a roll, sighing from the 'big picture' opinion of the other.
In it, she said, "Come on. Think about it." He seemed to ignore that by announcing his finish. She braved through with a respect to her opposition, "He's only being stupid just so he could help the others." Being rash was human nature. Some were able to utilize the benefit of the doubt better than the rest. So far, she saw nothing wrong with an instinct that saved lives. "Besides, he—" Her head, which was at a submissive angle, came up to acknowledge the specialist had disengaged himself from the confabulation. Unable to put up a fight that never really subsisted with his seemingly invulnerable composure, the woman mumbled to herself with the fruitless result, "Nevermind..."
He was gone. And with him, her connections to the issue. "Okay then. Get the guy back to his room." Dr. Torres spoiled herself by allowing the duo of interns to have the action, her mood downcast. She found herself in strife, but...wasn't sure how to split away from it.
She, however, was in a pickle. Not the preserved vegetable if one was predicting another lounge heist. (Though she'd like a snack.)
"He saw us, Erhard!" As everyone around them heard, Gary happened to be on the wanted list of this imagined scary, towering guy. The dead or alive question wasn't the problem in a medical facility— he just has a huge phobia of certain people. This wasn't a stereotype against doctors; there were just certain elements that contributed to his fears. The cigarette, the smirk..the guy in general. No hard feelings. "I told you I—ow, I don't want a checkup!" Even better, he was in physical pain.
The older teenager found the boy limping around thirty minutes ago, and instantly got begged into keeping it that way. In summary, their were part of a wild goose chase and a hide-and-seek match, which now included two tall men with green hair tailing them. Since mobility was their disadvantage, the 'sport' heavily came to her shoulders. She conserved energy by choosing not to carry the refugee, but with his trend to yell suddenly, taking cover won't be an alternative any longer.
"Face it, kid. I know about that leg!" Dr. Cunningham figured so a while ago after ten laps in the halls. "You're putting yourself in a world of hurt just by running around." Personally, he was in one as well by not asking Dr. Freebird, the true war veteran, to fully join the racecourse. As the 'Master of Deduction,' he already plotted plans to disband the kids' union, which he murmured to the partnering doctor, "Hank, either we knock some sense into one of them or get this over with. I ain't going another mile." His health and the boy's were are stake; quelling this carousel of people would take the full-throttle plan, that he deduced ages ago. "Can't we just...get this over with now?"
The professional at orthopedics fumed back in his tiredness, "Our best choice is to continue convincing them." He had never broken a sweat over such a misunderstanding, but he would never allow this to become tragic. "We can't use force...they're children." A scoff came from the colleague. More came with the giant's preach, "Gabriel, you must understand that crushing hopes isn't right. Those two are part of the next generation, at least give them a chance."
'I did' was mouthed by the diagnostician before he exhaled, "I know they're kids, but I'm really starting to wonder if they'll ever grow up." Silly as things stood, all of it was coming down to the line: the shorter youngster's left leg had a possible strain on a muscle, or worse, a fracture about to complicate everything. He preceded negotiations under his pal's recommendation, aiming blows onto the girl's conscience, "Hey Erhard, I swear if that kid breaks his leg, you're looking towards hitting the road! This ain't funny, so cut the crap out already!" Obviously his vocabulary was far from Hank's liking.
The plea, from the opposite end of the infirmary, naturally stirred Gary more than the intended person. What his friend least expected, he whispered, "That stinks! They can't kick you out like that! The guy has to be lying!" A frustrated glare to the floor was the reply. "What do we do?" The rolling up of fists and releasing a curt smile were the by-products of the benefactor's determination. The walkaway patient nodded with dedication to prevail, "You got it." He declared, "Try to stop us, doc!"
"This isn't anything heroic, you— Damn..." Gabriel tempered as the combination of him and the second man observed the juveniles lam down the left, where some staff offices belonged. "Hank?" A reticent 'alright' from the ally kicked off an full-scale competition of speed. Their 'divide and conquer' sealed off the two hallways that sandwiched the lane the orphans fled to, but the two 'birds' of one stone...weren't there. "Huh?" The grownups stared at the other, with no one present in between.
Clinically depressed for his own repute, the fed-up doctor felt misguided. He petitioned to heaven as he paced forward, "For the love of god..." His company gasped, bearing a mutual fatigue. They each had their own ideas on what was next: Dr. Freebird circulated the building for potential informants, and Dr. Cunningham screened each room in this hall. If the seventeen year-old could waltz into the lounge before Esha modified the code, maybe she could have jimmied one of these doors; that was a long-shot in his guesswork.
Or she stowed the boy into that specialist's office.
"(Got them.)" He believed as the doorway's crack became a wide gate for him to triumphantly pass through. "Okay, show's over." The victory was busted with a wayward reception by the prisoner. "Oh..." And none of the troublemakers in sight.
A shame, really.
"We were you talking to?" The question was no doubt very misleading- a cheap way, to the 'visitor,' to express: You're nuts.
Gabriel still had his priorities. "You didn't happen to see the two kids running around, did you?" The hired babysitter was slacking, but he didn't acknowledge that as he shook his head, ignorant of what trouble those two had brought onto themselves.
An awful silence made the increasingly bad situation worse.
"How the hell did they pull off a vanishing act?" The searcher mused to himself, baffled by the orderliness in the surgeon's domain yet to be affected by the orphans' desperate escape. Their magic trick was superb, and almost executed too well. Possessing a title he rather keep boasting about, the irritated diagnostician attempted to take on a task similar to the job of an acquaintance of his, Naomi Kimishima. "This is inconvenient." Forget the fancy powders and sprays, there was zip left behind by the magicians. Bravo.
Utilizing the security cameras could bring Esha into the hot mess, so he was out of luck. "When did you come back here?" CR-SO1, not associated with the hunt, answered with an unsure 'recently.' He may be living a temporary life here, but in less than a week's stay, he was already a person of interest for the local doctor. The self-claimed 'investigator' interrogated in a less professional manner, "So what happened to our little agreement back there?" By now, that girl would want to stay out of everyone's hair, and he could tell a high-speed chase was purely the opposite.
"The child left and I went to an operation..." The resident of the room pointed to the lonely lunch sack on his left side of his desk, which itself effectively vouched for him. "I haven't seen her since." Bad news cut short for Gabriel, who found the limelight of the responsibility all too familiar. Dumping the idea of 'maintaining one's cool,' he gritted his teeth and found a perfectly fitting excuse to bring this search to an end:
"..." None existed. But a commitment to protect kids never truly rooted in him. Heck, he could care less what those runts are up to. Appointing him as a caretaker remained the Chief's fault, but overlooking a broken leg he wouldn't like imprinted on his records.
"Get me if you see them." Resisting a temptation to back down, Dr. Cunningham twirled to reenter the sunset-colored halls. As he probed every inch of ground, the diabolical puzzle of how the blasted orphans disappeared into thin air haunted him. The rooms he skimmed so far weren't rigged with any gimmicks, and people nowadays typically don't practice sorcery. "(What am I...hallucinating?)" This was the last realistic theory he had left to prove wrong.
Unless the brats turned into smoke and filtered into the air vents, they had nowhere else to go. If he couldn't sleuth this out in the next minute or so, he might as well go into a tantrum and forfeit his career. To sum this situation up, he was losing to a mute that had not even reached adulthood yet. How crazy did that sound?
The man stood at a deadlock with where to go and what to try next. "(It won't be long now before that boy's going to the ER.)" He loved to ask the almighty one for a favor, but since that bus collision and Rosalia's rampage sorta disheveled things, he doesn't think that would happen in a while. Just something that could give him an eagle's view of the hospital was sufficient.
After a moment's thought, he felt even stupider. "Why did I not ask RONI..?"
"Your idea worked. They didn't find us yet." Gary Forester, the main fugitive of the manhunt, was hushed in his sedentary position behind a trimmed hedge. His guardian was bracing herself against a cool-steel column of the edifice, peering into the glass without intervals. "I never thought about going outside. And that window was itty-bitty..." From the boy's lamentation of being a contortionist with an aching leg, the other became convinced that the threat that doc babbled about was real. Also, that opening was the size of a moose; its ratio to her was like, five to one. 'Itty-bitty' needs a reality check.
A thick leaf clung to the brown hair of the kid as his head emerged from the bushes. "Um...Erhard? I'm kinda hungry." His face grew sour, but lightened up with finding a paper bag laying on top of a desk. It seemed full to the brim and was waiting to get nabbed like some leftover candy from a dispenser. "Hey, over there..!"
The teenager traced his finger.
Yes, the food in there was free. The guy next to it was that prisoner that looked she looked alike to. "I pretty sure there's food in it. If that doc doesn't want it, can we have it?" What the twelve year-old didn't know was that this meal was in reserve until Erhard returned. "Do you think he'll tattle on us?" Plan B from going to the cafeteria herself was to retrieve that sack. The guy won't bite if she liberated the sad thing from his place. He didn't seem the talkative type, either. It couldn't be that bad.
"That's the one you shoved..." And he was also one of the few, no, maybe the only one, that never judged her for the bad rap she got from the fire. He had a steely composure, and that was the worrying factor. What would he do once he saw her? A suppressed voice snarled from the boy as she fell victim to her own curiosity, "Erhard! Where are you going? You can't just leave me here!" She already did.
He liked how they outsmarted the docs, but he wasn't advocating it. And he wasn't totally eager to get up and running again. Not in a while. "Shoot." It kinda sucked knowing this elders were always doing the helping.
"There they are..." After surviving the long road to his office, Dr. Cunningham realized he might need to hustle back to where he just came from. On RONI's screen was a security footage of the two orphans: just outside of the kid's room. "Geez, I didn't think they could get out through the windows..."
The robot was considerate, no, gracious, enough to play the video of them foolishly climbing out after opening the panels- he wondered if his pal was just trying to shove it in his face. The camera updated as she spoke, "Doctor, it appears they've split. One of them is reentering the building. The other fled towards Dr. Tachibana's residence..." As much as he didn't want to say it, the thing was quite handy. The screen showed both kids, the boy hopping on grass in the left and the girl running past the doors on the right. "Which one are you going to pursue?"
"I quit from running awhile ago..." The man growled to himself, recalling his official resignation from vigorous physical activity for today. "Warn Tomoe and get Hank ready for an operation...I don't think I can make it on time." He got up, but in no rush. "I still have a few things to deal with..."
He made a final stare at the monitor before he slipped out, specifically to one side.
The guy didn't give a damn. In a less crude language: he didn't care. Almost as if he wouldn't mind if she leaped from the rooftop right now.
That was what the girl's insight told her as she confiscated the lunch. He didn't even bat an eye as she removed its presence from the desk. It was so effortless, that it started to annoy her- seeing him so deep in the useless heap of paper. Everything appeared to be a piece of cake...until he opened his mouth. With a sigh.
Here it comes.
"It's been there for a long time, if there is...protein in the contents, you shouldn't eat it." The prisoner had no idea how to convey the idea of bacterial formation and contamination to a kid, let alone a mute who had no interest in science of any field. She was one of the first that never displayed admiration to the skills of not necessarily him, but the entire staff here that work tooth and nail to save lives. The horseplay from running around the place like some playground was a bit of an insult to him, not that he'd let her know. He hid the idea by continuing, "It's been more than an hour." Add that to the cool temperature upon its delivery here, and you got a hazard. Leave it to the bio-terrorrist to point that out.
Erhard shrugged at the warning, any foodstuff she could gorge on was sufficient in her current efforts. But for a individual who had lived behind bars, maybe a smirk in return would satisfy him. Her alertness took its place as she zoomed past him.
"Doctor, are you in here..?"
The girl braked and lined herself behind the door upon hearing that Japanese doctor coming down this way. The teen's head began to droop in the thought of brainstorming another escape strategy. She would announce herself busted if anyone else showed up.
Tomoe Tachibana, who CR-SO1 knows was also in charge of the twelve year-old, most likely had a forlorn composure from the immense hunt that threw the hospital in a storm. He didn't glimpse at the girl in revolt, her business he willingly isolated himself from. "Yes...is this about-" He didn't need to even repeat the story.
"Mister Forester, or I should say Gary, I um..." The woman began slowly, still making a decision on how to explain. "I recently found him outside my garden. He was in pain, so I told Hanzou to bring him to the OR." The tips of her fingers touched her lips as she tried to go into specifics, "Gary said the area at his lower right leg hurt...I couldn't tell what the source was..."
She may not know the name of the lady's butler, but a disdainful wince came from the disillusioned teenager, sheltering a crumbling hope and heartbreak inside. The games were over, not that she ever thought this battle of wits was a diversion.
The surgeon raised his head, not to further question, but to ask why he should know the information in the first place. "Do you need me to perform an operation? Why are you telling me this?" He stood up, and while doing so he glanced at the earlier visitor, without much of an appeal or disapproval.
"No, it's alright. I believe Dr. Freebird will handle this. I was hoping to tell Gary's friend about this..." To ensure the relay of information, she took a wide step forward to recognize the concealed mute, whose dismay was forced in and replaced with indifference. "I didn't expect you to be in here, Erhard... I suppose you are now friends with the doctor here?" An weak shrug was given in advance, as a flustered nod answered her supposition. The teen couldn't take in the smile that blossomed on her when she replied, "I'm glad you made up..."
The teen's reflexes got a jolt in her discomfort, resulting in a flight out the doorway; the lunch was left behind. "W-wait!" That doctor saw straight though her and ridiculed her, and if that wasn't embarrassing, what was? She didn't care where she was fleeing to, there was absolutely no way she would turn back. Her, quote, 'friend' also put on resistance to that statement. He seated himself, anticipating that Dr. Tachibana would depart...tranquilly.
Instead, she stayed behind. "The child was unconscious when we found him." Her voice's enthusiasm was what left. "Dr. Cunningham left a message informing about his fracture...I fear it had worsened on his fall." A white lie caused no harm, but the arrangement and selection of words could make a huge difference. To Tomoe, it was day and night. She hung on to an optimism when she noted the older orphan. "I still think...he does care for others."
Everything she said belonged except the conclusion. Not fathoming the efforts in it, he said, "I wouldn't call it caring. All he is doing is interfering..."
"Doctor-"
The man backed from his argument only a little with the interjection. "He can't even-" Another interruption, but this one only, cut him off completely. It was a single smacking sound that focused the two doctors.
A puny fist versus a dry yet broad hand. An offensive adolescent and the defending adult. "Really. Beating me up will fix something?"
Gabriel grunted as he pushed the angered hand back to its owner, who shunned herself away from the man's chiding, "You think you're all that smart? Well congratulations...on breaking the kid's leg." He already breached the wrath of the girl; that nasty glare in her eyes forewarned him about the next soaring boot-to-the-head rarin' to get him. "You won't need to fight me. Good luck when the lady boss comes in and kicks you into the streets."
Erhard, not too absorbed in the man's call for change, trudged past him. Acrimony and scorn had washed away her old confidence as she went away.
That left the 'Master of Deduction' to check with the specialist; there was no reaction at seeing Tomoe being part of the show. "Hank's working in the OR. I think the kid's gonna be fine, but Esha isn't happy to pay for it." Or will she like doing the explanation, he thought to himself. After the silent treatments, he went on with an honest opinion, "The kid's a nut-job. I'm sorry, but he needs help...more the reason why we shouldn't ditch him on the road."
He kept his stay in the room temporary. Staring out at the sunset, he sighed, "I think I'll lived here long enough to know that out there it ain't pretty at night." His goodbye was left open-ended for the co-workers, "Well the kid got the message. Let's just leave at that." The endoscopic surgeon begged to differ, but failed to speak up on time.
She knelt down to retrieve the bag the teenager discarded when she aborted her compromised mission. "Was this the child's?" She held it respectively, waiting for the other to disclose the inside.
The beginning portion of his reply was cloudy, "Yeah. But it's not important anymore..." That girl's dissent explicitly said she won't need it. "You can leave it here." She was in many ways a persistent person, which will be a downfall in her solitary life. That combined with muteness and other setbacks slimmed her chances of success.
He, charged for the unforgivable, was sinking to a similar fate. Branded as a felon and then praised like a savior...that was it. To him, that promise of freedom just masked his bleak future. Perhaps it was a lie after all. Hah.
"Alright." Dr. Tachibana surrendered her curiosity as she set the sack atop the portfolios of procedures in the following weeks. After she was gone, the surgeon didn't run into another distraction in a while.
He didn't know what to do with the bag, though. It was becoming distracting on its own.
"You again." Dr. Naomi Kimishima murmured as she strolled into the top office of the FBI building. As before with the Raging Bomber, a stern Ian Holden stood next to the recliner with two agents in black on his sides. The classic position. But this experience the medical examiner shared with her chief and Little Guy.
Oh. And another change. This time the public's not invited. This same vanilla-themed room had no piece of media equipment. Blinds were pulled down and lights installed in the ceiling brought illumination. Cameramen were forbidden.
"It would cause mayhem for the country." Debated the detective as he removed his shades, revealing weary, thin brown eyes and wrinkled skin. This broke Naomi's calm. "I'm sure Chief Wayne mentioned this to you before." A file stamped with bold printed words the woman dreaded to meet slid down the coffee table. A lady kept many secrets indeed.
No incentive could trick her enough to accept David's words, "This was something I wanted to avoid, Naomi. Please understand that you were the authorities' last resort." The addressed narrowed her eyes as her boss seated across from her- Navel watched from the sidelines, as he would have preferred.
Acknowledging her destiny was irreversible, the forensic expert opened the file like a book. "How am I to solve this?" She expected to see the lack of victims and autopsy information, but not the clutter of data revolving about missing... "Is this a joke?" Pictures of missing articles from miscellaneous reserves, not money. They were all the things aristocrats swimming in gold would call collectibles. Some were from high-security locations, but all of it didn't apply to her. Not a corpse to 'whisper' to.
"This isn't an ordinary string of robberies, doctor." Ian returned his sunglasses, and Naomi's disappointment subsided. "Victims are random, just like the traffic nightmare from yesterday morning." This was another point in the woman's expectations. "If you need bodies, you'll have tons of them at your disposal. Just remember you weren't the first one to examine them." Her metallic earrings jilted as she raised her eyes to the speaker's.
The tall African-American facing her wanted to balanced the tension, "Naomi, solving this case-"
She rejected his help, "Is nearly impossible." The folder was flat on the counter with a pointer finger on it. "Most thieves are brought to justice within their first heist. Expert offenders maybe after their third." The digits specified composed a date. "Never has a criminal mastermind been able to maintain an active streak over almost a decade." Every syllable was a knife that stabbed the agents' reputations. "I'm presuming there is more to this than you're giving me?" By the time she finished, most were on pins and needles.
"Smaller burglaries are merged with other unknown armed robberies. The ones you have are the big ones." Rigid hands entered the pockets of the official's gray coat as he spoke, "They all have little to no evidence."
"That's not possible-" The secret agent in blue uniform denied as he listed, "There are visual recordings and possibly fingerprints or footprints..." He then paused to briefly adapt to the multitude of eyes and ears. "There has to be a pattern that you use to identify these thefts to be made by the same person." The blonde agent's intrusion into the matter burned into cinders as grim expressions were exposed.
The contradiction the man gave fanned the flamers of soon-to-be investigator's outrage. "That means every single time something like this happened, the cameras are cut, prints are erased, and a letter with the suspect's name is...mailed to your front desk?" She rose up from the couch after representing her agent's as she said, "Now you're asking me, someone who inspects corpses for a living, to save your dignity from a robbing spree you can't handle?"
Ian found each inquiry impressive, but David only saw Naomi losing her deposition. As her employer, it was his duty to answer her plea. "Naomi, what you said can be judged as correct." He directed her to the images of items that the rich would refer to as playthings. "But there is crucial factor no one told you and Agent Navel yet. There are...witnesses."
"No. We call them the criminals." The detective announced when he brought another file to the table. "Most of the stolen antiques wind up in houses of the...successful. Most buy their way out of this, so no testimony exists." Having negated Chief Wayne's proposition, he proceeded, "We need to put their hired thief behind bars. It won't take long for this to fall into the civilians' hands." A flimsy clear bag protecting a 'business' card reached Dr. Kimishima. "He anticipated you as our last offensive."
What she had argued before was perfectly accurate.
"Your decision?"
The note had a stroke of black paint beside the signature she interpreted as a bird. Yes, it had to be. "I never had an option, did I?" The flow of her hair slowed and she settled herself again. "Enough side chat. Let's begin." No more feedback exited the mouth of her workmates.
Time to end your game, Raven.