Chapter 9
Author's Note: I forgot my ending Author's Note last time, so here's gonna be a looooong one – be warned:
Cyanide. I got the idea of cyanide tablets, because it seemed like something A would come up with. And plus, Danish freedom fighters during Word War II used them. Probably the ones in France, too. But I know shockingly little about those French characters, except that they practically invented liquidation.
The most famous partisan of Denmark in particular (his nickname was "Flammen" / "The Flame") used a cyanide tablet to commit suicide instead of being captured by Gestapo (Geheimnis Statspolizei, i.e. Secret Government Police – probably. Not so good translation, sorry. But you get the point.)
But I wanted to look at the symptoms of cyanide poisoning and how the pill works, so I got to some really nasty sites – or nasty descriptions anyway – about other kinds of poisoning, too. If you swallowed, say, cleaning products, they'd do some horrible acid-stuff to your throat. And let's just leave it at that. You guys owe me a review for his xD.
Anyway, enjoy this chapter – action coming up! Yeeha! (Chapter is very much inspired by Danish resistance movements and their work 1940-45. A friend of mine says that I have a kinda scary obsession for this period of Danish history.)
Disclaimer: I do not own "Death Note".
"This information is very valuable to me." Light closed his eyes and smiled. There! He had been staring out the window, staring at the drops falling from the sky, and yet his eyes had been empty, far away, misty with thought.
Mikami stood in the very back of the room, hiding in the shadows, the notebook in his hands. He followed Light almost everywhere.
"Thank you, Lord," the kneeling man replied. The room was dark, no lamps were lit, the spy's face was invisible to him right now. However, his massive body made him hard not to notice, even in the heavy darkness.
"So you're planning to take action tomorrow?" Light's voice was calm, but inside he was giggling quietly to himself.
"Yeah, that's right… Lord," the traitor quickly added. Light could hear his breathing fasten and become more strained. He could almost see the sweat trickle in little pearls down his greasy face, his fat lips dry. And Light was disgusted. But he did not say that.
"Very well. I understand it'll only be William Aballini and a few chosen people?"
"Yeah, Lord."
"And he'll be the one shooting?"
"Yes."
Excellent, Light thought. This was exactly what he had been waiting for. "Do you know where he'll be when trying to assassinate the minister?"
"Well… no. He didn't tell me exactly where… you know, which window he'd be shooting from… but he said it'd from a luxury hotel."
Light gave a soft, derisive chuckle. "Fool. There's only one hotel by the place where the speech will be given, only one possible hotel he can be shooting from. Unless…" His voice faded and became nothing. Unless he know this fat bastard is a traitor and therefor told him something that… that would lead me on a wrong track? Can this whole assassination-thing be a set up? A diversion? That was a definite possibility. But it was nothing to worry about. He would put extra security in the hotel, and have them keep an eye open for William Aballini. But what if Aballini disguised himself? Was he even smart enough to think that far ahead? Nonsense, it did not take a lot of brains to figure out that Kira knew his face by now, after that fiasco at the government buildings. But surely then any ordinary person would think that if Kira knew his face, he must be dead by now. Would Aballini consider the possibility that his face was already known? No, he would not! He did not have the intelligence to think as far ahead as Kira himself. He would come undisguised, of course, being the fool that he was. Then he would tell the hotel staff to keep an eye out for him and then alert Kira if they saw him. Simple.
And even if he did come in disguise and got the prime minister shut, Light had the whole hotel surrounded, so there was no way he could escape. Light smiled.
But suddenly his happiness vanished and he turned around, staring Traitor down with horrible and yet amazing power.
"Now get out of my sight, you dirty rat," he barked.
Light could see the wet face growing paler as the man once again flinched and quickly got up. Despicable. "G-g-goodnight, Lord."
He left the room. The door closed with a little thud.
Light picked up his triumphing grimace form where he had hit it. Farewell… William Aballini.
People of all kinds crowded the great place in the middle of Tokyo. They chatted about what-not, smalltalk evolving into deafening noise. There must have been over ten thousand. Tall, modern skyscrapers around the crowd like great walls, their glassy eyes watching over every single one of the people in the place. Even Will.
He examined the rifle for faults one last time, even though he knew there was none. He was nervous. Heck, who would not be nervous in his situation? Yeah, sure, he had killed people before. It had been hard the first few times. Especially if you hid an artery and blood flew everywhere. Showered you. That had had him cry in the late hours of the night. But of course it had gotten easier. Things always got easier. But still… he had never assassinated anyone before, that had been George's job. He had been in the army, after all. But George was gone, so now Will was the one with the most experience in guns and… well, he did not really have a choice. It had to be done. The bastard had to die. But… if anything went wrong… there was just so much to loose.
There really was no great plan in all of their actions. It was just to keep attention off of A at Kira's palace, and then to get the people over on their side. If they did that, A had said, if they got the people, they had as good as won. So… the reason the minister had to die, was that he had personally been in charge of the seizing and torture of several of the resistance troops a few months ago. His spies had luckily been revealed, so no one else had been captured. This was the revenge. He had to pay for what he had done. Pay with his life. Really, was that not what Kira believed, too? That when people did something wrong, they had to be punished by execution? Then… was this not evil? But A… A had said, that they should liquidate people like the prime minister when they did something like this. And A… A was always right.
Will thoughts stopped dead as the prime minister walked onto the stage. His white suit already had big, wet spots under his arms, he constantly patted his face with his handkerchief, his suit having a hard time containing his enormous body. He greeted the audience who cheered wildly for him and, panting, started his speech.
Will took a deep breath, putting a silencer on the rifle and sticking it out the open window of the tall building. It was a hotel room, very stylish with marble thingies and silk and roomy, comfortable armchairs. The room was a mess, though. Boxes looking like expensive suitcases full of ammunition and extra rifles, silencers. The rifle he used now was taken out of a case shaped like a guitar box, no one would ever figure what it really was.
It had taken a lot of money to have checked in on this hotel. He had disguised himself as a rich American kid, infant prodigy, who came here on a business trip. He still wore the expensive suit and the hat of course, a new, black men's hat, same design as his old one, matching the black suit.
In the room there was almost completely silent. Two more people, a man and a woman, dressed like bodyguards, sat behind him. They were with him in case something should go wrong and just to make his role as a American rich-kid more believable. There was no need to talk. They must be ready to flee when he had shut.
He aimed calmly and slowly for the chest of the man, who was yelling energetically into his microphone about the new world. Will closed his left eye to have as good an aim as possible, his finger tightening around the tricker… this was it…
Someone kicked the door open. Taken by surprise he forgot the tricker and turned his head, to see a man in a blue police battle uniform, with helmet, shield and everything. He was flanked by two more, and at least another twenty were visible out in the hall.
Will reacted instantly and quickly, dropping the rifle, his hand shooting to his shoulder case, closing around the Browning… But the police officer was not stupid, he had foreseen what Will would do. The minute he had entered he, and his comrades, had pulled their own guns and fired it twice each.
Will screamed as bullets smacked into both his right and left shoulder, he could not move his arms to pull the gun, falling backwards, unable to defend himself. Blood showered the expensive furniture, his white shirt. The pain was overwhelming, he had never felt something like this before. His arms were on fire, a cold and yet horribly burning, white fire, slowly spreading to his chest and the rest of his body. Faintly he heard his two comrades being shut as well, whether fatal or not he was not sure, and the little thud as he slowly hid the floor.
One of the blue masks bent over him as darkness put it's lid over his eyes.
Ryan took a big bite off his pizza, even though he was already full. It made his guilt somewhat bearable. His cheeks were burning icily with congealed tears, new ones still making their way down his skin. He could not stop. Just gazing expressionlessly out into nowhere he let them fall, for he had no means of stopping them.
Why did he do it? Why?! He dropped the slice of pizza, it landed greasily on the floor of his little apartment. He doubled up in the chair, burying his face his his porky arms. Tears sprouted form his eyes with new energy, soaking his long sleeved shirt, but he did not care. His face obscuring itself into horrible grief as he cried and whined.
He screamed and screamed but they were silent screams, roaring only inside himself. Not a single sound could cross his lips.
Why?
Someone rang his door bell. He ignored them, did not care, consumed in remorse. The bell rang again, more insistently this time, though. He still did not react. Leave, he thought.
"Mr. Ryan Hannigan?" He thought he knew that voice, that womans' voice, but he could not place it. "Mr. Ryan Hannigan, I've got flowers from the Divine Lord, Kira. He wants to sent you wishes of good health."
Ryan straightened his back. Kira? It would be rude not to open the door for the messenger, now that she was bringing flowers and all, especially when Kira had sent them. He got up, drew the tears off his face and got out into the hall. He opened the door.
A slim woman figure stood on the door step, holding a bouquet of flowers in her hands. But she did not smile at him like he had expected her to. Instead her eyes and face were expressing nothing but glowing hatred. He knew her.
"You dirty rat," she said, barely more than a whisper, a whisper of a loathing snake. Will knew that everything was gravely wrong, but he could not move. Because in the very instant everything screamed at him to smack the door shut, a man stepped onto his door mat. Will knew him, too. He was a freedom fighter. They both were.
The man held a loaded gun in his hand, face twisted with anger. He had been hiding next to the door, invisible to whoever would open it until he stepped forward.
"I'll see you in Hell, Ryan," he spat as he fired the gun. The world exploded in white.
Author's Note: I really hoped you all enjoyed this chapter. Sorry it came up here so late (so relatively late), but I have really had trouble writing it. Just wasn't inspired, you know? Anyway, here it is, and I hope you liked it.
Plus, I would really like a review or two this time. None for the last chapter. I know nothing was going on, and it wasn't all that exciting. Regarding that Yasu-part, I just felt like writing it. For some reason the teacher came out as Mikami inside my head. Chapter 8 you may call a filler, if you please.
Or, perhaps, the reason you didn't review was that you simply thought the chapter was bad and didn't wanna tell me. That's okay, but I wanna hear if you find it bad or boring – as long as your criticism is constructive of course, something I can work on.
I know, I've just gotten too used to you guys reviewing – you spoil me :D. But that's okay, I like spoiling. But please review!