CHAPTER V

"Hit Me With Your Best Shot!" -- Pat Benatar

"Where's Wendy?" Amon asked without looking up from the paper he was reading. "I could really use some coffee right now."

Steed nodded to Priss, who wordlessly stood and headed for the door. "She asked for the day off," he said. "Apparently she wore herself out working late this week. It's the first time she's ever asked for any time off, so I gave it to her. If I'd known we were going to have this kind of trouble..."

Noin shook her head. "No, let her have it. She always works too hard," she said. "She needs the down time as much as we do."

A moment later, Priss reappeared with a carafe of black liquid in each hand. "Coffee," she said, hefting first one pot and then the other, "and tea. It won't be as good as Wendy's, but it still has caffeine."

Amon nodded his thanks and pushed folders around to clear a space for his mug on the table. Priss poured for the Directors and herself, then returned to her place at the table where stacks of incident reports waited to be sorted. They'd been at this for nearly an hour, after deciding on the only course of action that could utilize the limited information they had uncovered on their world-jumping counterparts. They were searching the files one by one, looking for individuals who might have something to do with Sephiroth's group of interlopers.

Steed selected one sheet from a recent file. "What about this case?" he asked, waving the paper. "Let's see... Noin, this would be yours... a rescue operation involving Bishounen Abuse from KC4? Looks like you handled it personally."

Noin took the page from him and skimmed it, then nodded. "I remember this one," she answered after a moment, "but I don't think he fits the profile. He had a complete memory wipe before he was placed."

Amon gestured for the page and glanced through the list of code numbers that indicated the character's previous placements. "What about previous roles?" he asked. "Could there be any carryover from another world? Let's see... before KC, he was filed under GW. That might be worth checking into. Priss, what data do we have on the GW universe?"

Steed glanced over at Noin, who cleared her throat uncomfortably. "Don't bother looking it up, Priss," she said quietly. Amon looked at her quizzically, and Noin shrugged. "It's my home world," she said, almost apologetically. She drew the file page back across the table and looked over the character profile. "I knew this kid pretty well; he was kind of a joker, and he had a morbid fascination with death, but that was actually fairly typical for people his age in that world. I just don't think he's the kind we're looking for." She handed the page to Priss, who silently filed it.

Steed nodded, a smile around his eyes. "Now I see why you handled that case yourself," he said kindly, and all three Directors returned to their paperwork as if nothing had occurred.

After a few minutes of silence, Noin collected a pile of folders and stood to transfer them to the section for already-reviewed material. A folder like the one she'd given Black caught her eye, and she picked it up again to review the scant information they'd collected on their mysterious antagonists. She flipped through the pages, musing on the names and pictures of each personality. Vicious... Dilandau... Sephiroth...

A new thought struck her, and she turned to Steed and Amon. "Wait a moment," she said suddenly. "We've been profiling primarily on source material, personality and character traits, based on what we know of Vicious and Dilandau, right? Nothing else?"

"That's all the information we have," Steed said, a bit defensively. "It's broad, but we can't narrow our search until we have new data."

Noin's blue eyes glittered with inspiration. She stepped around the table so that everyone could see and held up the picture of Vicious, followed by the picture of Dilandau, then rough sketches made from Amon's description of Sephiroth and the two others he'd seen.

"Priss," she asked, "can we sort characters by hair color?"

- - -

Enishi glanced furtively at the others standing in line beside him. Vicious slouched against the wall, fingering the hilt of his katana; Dilandau toyed with a box containing a block of malleable material attached to a dangerous-looking mechanism with a display that flashed red numerals. Their strike force was small, but Sephiroth seemed confident that they wouldn't meet any real resistance from the SPCFC. Enishi almost hoped his leader's assumption was wrong. The SPCFC boasted a few fighters nearly as strong as their own men, and Enishi's fingers twitched eagerly at the possibility of battle.

Sephiroth himself entered the room a moment later, trailed by Vanduri and Vergil. "I want you two to remain here on standby," he was saying. "Be alert; we don't know what form or condition the Item is in, and I may need you to assist in the retrieval."

He turned to the others then, smiling in a way that made Enishi's stomach clench in anticipation, and said, "Shall we go?" It was less a question than an order, and the three men assembled dutifully in a tight circle around their leader. A moment later, Enishi's view of headquarters winked out of sight.

- - -

Steed chose a character from his stack at random and held up a picture of a wizened old man in a pointed grey hat. "Gandalf the Grey, a wizard... but he doesn't quite seem to fit the type, does he?"

Noin wrinkled her nose. "No, I think we can rule him out." She picked one from her stack of potentials, ignoring the twinge in the back of her neck. All this fine print must be giving her a headache... She held up a profile of a teenager with white hair and bright turquoise eyes. "Hitsugaya Toushirou, fifth squad captain..." She squinted at the description. "This one's a Shinigami, so he's used to going between worlds... but his backstory doesn't seem quite angst-ridden enough to fit the profile."

Amon pulled another sheet and read from it. "How about this one?" He held up an image of a man in a kimono with short, wavy silver hair. "Gintaro. Best known for having a natural perm..." Amon frowned and tucked the paper back in the file. "No, I think not."

Steed waved a page showing a man with large eyes, flashy earrings, and plenty of white hair. "Father Olivier, currently on a quest to learn the secret of 'G'..." Steed raised an eyebrow at the description. "I'm willing to bet he's not our man."

Noin grinned at the picture. "Ooh, he's pretty. But I agree, he doesn't fit." She rifled through her stack and held up a profile of a dark-skinned man wearing a priest's collar; his white hair was bound in a tail at the back of his neck. "Book, a Shepherd, passenger aboard Firefly-class vessel Serenity... I don't know; he doesn't seem to match, either." She handed the page to Priss and rolled her shoulders, trying to ease the pressure at the base of her skull. Priss glanced at her with concern, but Noin shrugged and waved her off.

Steed continued and held up a picture of a silver-haired character with pale wings and exotic yellow eyes. "Taro, a Ryuu... consort to Darashinai'rika..." Steed shook his head and put the sheet away. "On second thought, this one looks like just a walk-on character. No depth."

Amon drew another profile. "Keiki, from JK1a... wait, I think this one is actually a unicorn. Are we counting form-shifters in this?"

Noin rubbed her eyes with one hand, trying to focus on Amon's words despite the distracting buzz in the back of her mind. She bit her lip and tried to clear her mind with the sensation, but the odd feeling didn't go away.

A moment later, Steed interrupted Amon with a raised hand. His eyes were on Noin. "What is it?" he asked her quietly. "Do you sense something?"

Noin shook her head. "There's nothing I can really pinpoint," she murmured, "just a vague feeling... almost as if there were someone watching me." She shrugged helplessly. "I don't know how to describe it."

Steed regarded her for a moment. "What about mapping it out?" he suggested thoughtfully. "Like you did before... Is there something here, at headquarters, or is it outside?" He shook his head before Amon, glancing between Steed and Noin as if they'd lost their minds, could voice the question that was written on his face.

Noin hesitated and then closed her eyes, imagining a rough floor plan of SPCFC headquarters in her mind. She stretched out, feeling for the buzzing presence, reaching toward it...

A burst of energy rocked her mind like an explosion. Her eyes flew open and she clutched the edge of the table, gasping. When she looked up, she saw Steed and Amon standing on either side of her, unsure what to do. She stood as well, forcing down the wave of nausea that accompanied sudden movement.

"They're here," she said, still trying to catch her breath. "They've breached security, somehow. They're on the third level."

Steed whirled toward the nearest communications panel to sound the alert. Amon still stared at her, uncomprehending. "Who is?" he asked, and Noin remembered that would have no reason to know about the strange ability she'd displayed when Steed had first recruited her.

"I don't know how I know," Noin said slowly, "but I'm sure it's Sephiroth."

She barely had time to see the stunned look on Amon's face before the room fell dark.

- - -

Steed glanced dubiously at the flickering strip lighting along the ceiling as he worked his way down the hallway. The sudden power failure had triggered the emergency system, but given the wavering illumination in the halls, Steed wasn't at all certain that the backup system was any more reliable than the primary. Mentally, he added inspecting the generators to the list of things they should do when they had some spare time. It was a long list, and Steed couldn't remember the last time he'd scratched a completed item from it.

His communicator buzzed directions as he hurried along, his staff tracking the disturbance as quickly as they could bring the equipment back on line, and soon he reached the corridor that Security had flagged as ground zero. Even in the inconsistent lighting, it wasn't difficult to locate the breach: A smoking fissure gaped in one side of the hallway. The surrounding walls were charred black, and shreds of acoustic tile hung in jagged triangles from the ceiling, giving the impression of a dark, gaping mouth baring broken teeth.

A figure was silhouetted in the center of this fiendish grin, draped dramatically in black leather. Silver hair streamed over his back, gleaming pale red in the dim emergency light. He turned casually at Steed's approach, and Steed privately tipped his hat to whatever artist was responsible for the masterpiece of character design before him. If Noin's instincts were to be trusted, this was Sephiroth... and suddenly, Steed understood why it had been so difficult for Amon to describe his encounter with the mysterious interloper.

Steed drew up as the hallway around him clogged with smoke, standing at relaxed attention opposite the formidable man in black. He saluted the intruder with a wave of his umbrella, stirring the haze between them.

"As a rule, the SPCFC extends its warmest greetings to everyone who arrives," Steed began genially, "although we generally prefer that visitors utilize the more conventional approach through the front door." He smiled, though there was a marked edge to his words. "Forgive me for being so bold as to inquire... you would be Mr. Sephiroth, I presume?"

Sephiroth's head canted to the side as his eyes swept from Steed's prim bowler hat to his meticulously polished shoes. His lips twitched as if he were resisting a smirk, but he said nothing.

Steed politely ignored the unspoken barb. He stood rooted in the center of the hallway, both hands resting on the handle of his umbrella in front of him. "My dear sir," he added gamely, "would you think me terribly rude if I suggested that we dispense with the formalities and..."

Before Steed could finish the sentence, Sephiroth swept his arm to the side. In an instant, a swirl of dense vapor snaked out of his hand and resolved into a gleaming blade.

Steed raised his eyebrows at the six feet of steel that curved between him and his opponent. "Should I take this as your answer, then?"

In reply, Sephiroth lunged forward.

Steed raised his closed umbrella over his head, bracing it with both hands as the long Masamune blade sliced the air above him. Sparks flew from the clash, and the impact sent Steed reeling back several paces. Sephiroth landed, catlike, and stared at the plain black umbrella in clear astonishment.

Steed fell back into a deceptively relaxed posture and swung the umbrella once by the cane handle. "Thank the Author for signature weapons," he murmured dryly, and with a flick of his wrist he drew the blade hidden within the umbrella's shaft. He was preparing to charge when a black-gloved hand brushed his shoulder, halting his forward motion with a touch.

"Stand down," rumbled a voice. "I am the only one who can face him equally."

Black stood at Steed's elbow, a red cloak buckled over his typical dark clothing. His eyes, gleaming the color of blood, were fixed hard on Sephiroth. Distracted though he was, Steed did not fail to register the return glare, smoldering with hatred, that Sephiroth turned on the Arcane Specialist.

Steed had learned to question neither Black's reasons nor his abilities, and there were enough unknown factors in this situation that he was eager to let someone else engage the enemy while he attempted to organize their scattered defenses. He moved out of Black's way with a polite tip of his bowler hat.

"Tagging out, then, Mr. Black. Do take care." Confident that Black had the situation covered as best as anyone could, Steed turned and dashed for the engineering quad, palming his communicator as he ran. Behind him, he heard the electric snap of energy searing the air. The sound, he thought unwillingly, was ominously like the crackle of flames.

- - -

Noin flicked her weapon's safety off as she approached the final corner, reminding herself that she had only a few rounds left before she would need to reload. All general staff had been ordered to evacuate this area, which left the compromised quarter entirely unprotected save for Black and herself.

From the command center, Priss had commed her that Steed was on his way to engage the tertiary power grid. Noin knew that Amon was already at work establishing a security perimeter to protect their most critical areas, but she also knew that his efforts would be delayed by the temporary loss of power when Steed restored the reactor. His success would depend, in part, on their ability to hold the enemy here until the new security measures could be put in place.

She slowed to a cautious walk as she reached the hallway, hugging the corner for the scant cover it provided. There was a film of smoke and dust in the air, and the tang of ozone burned her throat. She squinted as the dust slowly began to clear, and after a few seconds she could make out shapes in the haze. Black's dark form was nearest, with his back to her, and just beyond him she could see the figures of three others.

The tall one in front was dressed in black, his shoulders adorned with silver armor that glinted red and white in the flickering light of the hallway. He was stunningly beautiful, an angelic countenance belied by narrowed aquamarine eyes and a malevolent smile. She knew at once that this was Sephiroth; even without Amon's description, she recognized the authority and power in his bearing, the charisma that radiated from him, and matched it with the presence she'd felt earlier. He was a force unto himself, and not one she would have chosen as an adversary.

Behind the leader lurked another tall man with short, spiky grey hair, dressed in a bright orange outfit that would have sent the wardrobe master Elton into a seizure. Off to the side crouched one she recognized from the file as Vicious. It looked as if there might be someone else farther down the hallway, but the figure was indistinct. Noin began to creep forward, but halted abruptly as Black threw out a hand in warning.

"Stay back, Lucrezia," he said quietly, not turning to look behind him.

Noin saw Sephiroth's eyes widen slightly, and the eerie blue-green gaze turned in her direction. "Surely not," she heard him murmur, his eyes fixed on her. After a moment, he chuckled mirthlessly and turned back to Black.

"Really, Vincent," Sephiroth chided, shaking his head. "Trying to replace her with this surrogate is simply pathetic. You ought to be ashamed."

Noin couldn't see Black's reaction to the taunt, but before she could wonder what the words meant her attention was drawn by furtive movement behind Sephiroth. Vicious and the other man were using their leader's speech as an opportunity to creep along the wall toward Noin. She raised her gun.

"Stand where you are, and put down your weapons," she called clearly, her experience as a CO imbuing her voice with authority. Now that she had an unobstructed view, she could see how her opponents were armed. Vicious carried a katana at his side, as Amon had reported. The man in orange wore a sheathed sword across his shoulders. As Noin watched, he reached behind his back and drew out an old-fashioned revolver. From the motion of his body, it was apparent that he did not plan on putting down the weapon.

With more instinct than thought, Noin targeted the revolver's grip, and easily shot it out of her enemy's hand. Startled, Vicious lunged forward, and Noin nudged the muzzle of her own weapon toward him and fired. The first shot ricocheted against the flat of his blade, and the second bullet flashed at its base, shattering the tsuba. Her final bullet removed the sword cleanly from his grasp. Both men staggered back toward their leader, temporarily checked.

The man called Sephiroth made an appreciative sound as he glanced down at his disarmed subordinates. "Impressive. Such marksmanship… though it's really not surprising, considering the source." His gaze returned to Black, who hadn't moved.

Noin ejected the spent clip and replaced it with her only spare, inching forward to get a better view of Black and Sephiroth. The muzzle of her gun remained low, aimed toward the ground. She wouldn't risk firing at the leader; with his mysterious powers, the shot was too unpredictable. She would have to wait until he was distracted. Was Black going to engage him?

"You've been training her, I see. She carries your mark." Sephiroth spoke casually, but his eyes never left Black.

"I have taught her nothing. All that she knows, she has learned entirely on her own." Black's head inclined toward her slightly, and the ghost of a smile flashed across his grim face. "She's had to work for her abilities... unlike you."

Sephiroth's placid expression melted into a scowl, and finally he looked away from Black. Noin felt the hair on her arms rise as his eyes flicked over her from head to foot. An instant later, a sinister smile replaced the frown, and he half-turned his head to address his comrades.

"A slight change in plan, gentlemen," Sephiroth purred. "Disregard the Item for now. We're taking a different prize." His unnatural aqua eyes snapped back to Noin, and the cold dread gripped her again. What did he want with her?

Without warning, Black lunged at Sephiroth, snarling like some fictive beast. Noin felt the tendrils of force as Sephiroth lashed out at him, and for an instant her vision blurred as the crackling of invisible power filled the hallway. She recoiled and blinked, her eyes opening to the sight of Sephiroth's two lieutenants charging toward her. The first had regained his katana; the second came at her barehanded, though there was a weapon still sheathed across his back.

Years of OZ training pulled at her body, and Noin surrendered to the military instinct. She dropped into a balanced crouch, aiming up under the guard of her nearest enemy. Two of her bullets caught Vicious across the chest and shoulder, and he staggered back with a grunt. The taller assailant dodged behind his associate, then dove at her from the left. Noin spun on the ball of her foot and kicked out at the side of his knee. The sudden movement checked his forward charge, but he narrowly evaded the kick and turned to come at her again.

For an instant, Noin stood in motionless defense between her enemies. She hesitated, unsure of her next action. The wounded Vicious should be less of a threat, but there was still three feet of sharp Japanese steel in his hand. The one in the orange suit was much stronger, and certainly faster, but was unarmed. She glanced from one to the other, waiting for an indication. A breath later, Vicious lunged at her, swinging wildly. The angle of his attack was low, and Noin had no room to dodge. She caught the blade with her gun, the force of the blow jarring her arms even though she knew he could use only a fraction of his strength. The gun screeched along the edge of the blade, and one wild shot crashed into the floor. They grappled for a moment, until at last she pushed the weapon away from her body and twisted the hilt out of his grasp. She struck him in the solar plexus as the sword clattered to the floor, then followed with a strike to the throat.

Too late, she remembered the second adversary, and turned to face him just as his blow fell across her temple. Colors flashed in the wake of a brilliant pain, and Noin crumpled to the floor.

- - -

Black suddenly halted his attack and turned to look back at the fallen Director. Enishi rubbed his knuckles briefly, then reached down to swing Noin's limp body up and over his shoulder. With his other arm, he half-lifted the wounded Vicious and supported him as they returned to Sephiroth's side. Black turned back to Sephiroth, taut with white anger. Sephiroth looked at his blanched face and laughed soundlessly.

"Come, now, don't be like this," Sephiroth admonished, holding Black's blood-red eyes with his own aquamarine ones. "You are so very predictable," he murmured. "No sport at all." He half-turned to address the boy crouched down the hallway. "Dilandau, are you nearly finished?"

By way of an answer, the gangly teenager left the box he'd been toying with and danced back to his master's side, giggling. Sephiroth nodded approvingly and glanced over his group like a school teacher at the end of a field trip. "I believe that takes care of our business here, for the moment," he asserted. He leveled his eyes on Black again. "I do hope you enjoy the parting gift," he purred.

Black's tight jaw barely moved. "Return her," he growled.

Sephiroth blinked, looking genuinely surprised. Then he smiled. "I think not," he replied. "I won't relinquish my bargaining chip just yet. Though I am amused that you, of all people, would actually ask." The air around the group was beginning to shimmer slightly. Sephiroth cast one last look around the ruined hallway, then turned back to Black with a sneer. "You know how I adore our little chats, dear, but I'm afraid we must beg your leave..."

Black uttered an inarticulate cry and lunged forward. Sephiroth raised his hand and responded with a blast of searing power that sent Black into the opposite wall, his clothing smoldering. Before he'd landed solidly on the floor, Sephiroth and his group had vanished.