Disclaimer: I do not own Witch Hunter Robin. This is being written only for pleasure, not for profit. Thank you.
Chapter Four: When the letter came, the first thing Michael did was ask the Boss for vacation time.
When the letter came, the first thing Michael did was ask the Boss for vacation time.
Previously, Michael had spent a lot of his spare time sitting with his portable terminal in the courtyard, next to the well/secret passage, hoping that Robin would eventually make contact with him. Everyone at the STN-J that had worked with her would gladly drop everything to help her and Amon out, but Michael was always hoping Robin would come to him again.
She did. But not the way that Michael had been expecting. Robin sent him a letter.
It was in French, which surprised him, but was a very effective way for her to be sure that nobody else at the office would be able to read it. Not that it came to the office. The letter actually showed up at his apartment (how Robin got his address, he had no idea), but Michael had no doubt that the STN monitored his mail. Amon was probably aware of that as well, which was why the letter was not only in French, but also disguised as a pen-pal letter from a hacker friend he'd met online.
It took a little while for Michael to puzzle out the clues, but once he did, it was a matter of going into work like normal and casually mentioning the letter to Dojima, who predictably jumped all over it like a pack of wolves. It wasn't long until she had the entire office telling him he should go visit his friend in France, "get out for a while, live some!" So, on the urging of many of his colleagues, Michael asked the Boss for vacation time.
It was a thing of beauty. The Boss gave him two weeks off, said he'd more than earned it in his three straight years of service, and even paid for the tickets. It was incredible. For anyone but Robin, Michael might have felt a little guilty taking advantage of everyone like that, but he knew that if they found out they'd understand.
Michael didn't remember the last time he'd been on a plane very well. He'd only been seven or eight years old. Old enough that he still remembered how to read and write both English and French, but long enough ago that he'd stopped thinking in either. The plane ride gave him some motion sickness, which he doesn't remember having last time, but the real hard part was arriving in France and actually hearing people speak in French for the first time in years. Not only was the accent off from what he remembered, but they spoke so fast. If there was such a thing as language shock, Michael experienced it right there in the airport.
There was a teenager about his age, holding a sign with his name on it, kindly written in both Romaji and Hiragana, in what was obviously Amon's handwriting, and Michael felt a surge of triumph as he realized for sure that both Amon and Robin made it out of the factory collapse. He waved at the teen holding the sign and walked over, his carry on basically holding everything he owned, even after a year living outside the office, so he had no checked baggage to pick up.
The teenager introduced himself as Christian Benoit in halting Nihongo, which amused Michael, because wasn't his letter in French?
"Christian!" Michael said, laughing, for any eyes on them. "Come on, you know I speak French." He told the teenager in his language. He was a little rusty, and the accent was startlingly different, but Michael believed he was understandable. "Besides," Michael added, clapping Christian on the shoulder and steering him out of the airport, hopefully away from the multitude of cameras, "Your Japanese is horrible."
"I know, I know." Christian said, good-naturedly. "I guess I wanted to give you a little slice of home. I mean, we're always talking on the net in French, so I feel a little guilty."
"Don't worry about it." Michael told him, carefully scanning the airport and surroundings for anyone obviously following them. He doesn't see any. "It keeps me in practice."
Christian led him to a car, which was strange to get into after so many years in Japan. The driving was even stranger, as it felt like he was on the wrong side of the road all over again. It was déjà vu of when he first moved to Japan.
It took about fifteen minutes to get to Christian's flat. Michael followed him up, and inside met another guy wearing a wig that looked like his hair. Michael forgot the French word for doppelganger, so he tried "Body double?" and the other Michael smirked at him as he handed Michael a short brown wig of his own.
"Out the back." The fake Michael said in truly terrible Japanese. Michael winced.
"Stick to French." Michael advised. The body double nodded, then pointed again towards the back door. Michael put the wig on, backwards at first, which was embarrassing, but went as he was instructed once it was on.
Behind the building there was an older woman, mid-fifties maybe, who chatted him up in southern flavored French as they meandered through the back alleyways of Marseilles. They eventually came to a parked car that the two got into. There was a new ID and passport for him in the glove compartment, and after stowing them in his bag Michael and the woman talked about French and Canadian politics and geo-economics for the better part of the two and a half hour trip to Monaco.
In Monaco, Michael met another contact, and even if he was good at going with the flow, Michael was starting to wonder how big Robin's network actually was. To achieve this sort of organization in only a year . . . it was frightening.
The newest contact, a laughing blonde girl his age who hung off his arm, took him across the border into Italy. He used his new passport, and they took a train to Milano, where they thankfully had lunch together in what seemed to be the picture-perfect date. Afterward, they strolled around together until they were picked up by a blue van. They were taken somewhere in the city (Michael wasn't sure where, which he was certain was intentional. Amon was a pretty paranoid guy, after all.) and let out in what looked like a warehouse that had been converted into a half lab, half office space.
Robin was there waiting for them. She'd grown a little, and was now pulling her hair back in a single bun. She wasn't wearing the Abby clothes either, though the black turtleneck shirt and white skirt over black leggings wasn't too far off. She still looked like Robin.
"Michael." She said, smile spreading across her face.
"Robin." Michael said back, and only years of living in Japan kept him from hugging her.
Robin apparently didn't have that qualm. She ran up and threw her arms around him.
"How are you? I'd heard they were letting you out now, that's so great Michael!"
"Yeah, well, the deal I made was with Zaizen. And the Chief is the new Administrator, so he and I made a new deal." For a moment, he and Robin just looked at each other. "You have no idea how much everyone has missed you. You and Amon. Where is he, by the way? I have something I need to talk to him about."
"He's here somewhere. I'll have Mary go fetch him." Robin shot off quick instructions to the blonde girl in Italian, and she left with a nod.
"While we're waiting, why don't you tell me what you need?"
"What I need?" Robin asked.
"Robin. You didn't send for me to come here, go through all of the subterfuge in getting to your base, just to say hello. For one, Amon wouldn't have allowed it. For another, you're smarter than that. If you'd just needed information, we could have done that by post. What do you need?"
Robin smiled, looking surprised and happy that he'd figured it out. "You're right, of course." She said. "We do need you for something. We need you to set us up with an encrypted network, and we need access to the STN database."
"Wow." Michael said after a moment. "You don't ask for much, do you?"
"Can you do it?" Amon's voice demanded from somewhere to his right. Michael jumped slightly and turned to see him approaching.
"In two weeks? It'll be tough."
"Can you do it."
"Yeah, Amon. I can do it." Michael cracked his knuckles. "One totally unique and impenetrable operations network, and unseen access to the STN database. Done. But I'm gonna need some stuff."
"Make a list." Robin suggested. "Mary will get you anything you need. In the meantime, you needed to talk to Amon?"
"Yeah, that's right." Michael confirmed, turning to the former STN-J hunter. He'd also changed his style a little bit, button-up white shirt under a dark jacket and black slacks – even with the hair, Amon could probably blend into anywhere in the city dressed like that. "Could we maybe go somewhere private?" Michael asked. Amon eyed him, and then nodded.
"Follow me."
It was a small office cubicle in the corner, out of casual listening distance but still close enough that Amon could call for Robin if he needed. Not that he would need to with Michael, or that Amon would need Robin's help to deal with him, but Michael understood that Amon couldn't know if HQ had turned him. Hopefully what he was about to give the man would ease his mind on that matter.
Michael pulled a USB flash drive out of his bag and set it on the desk.
"What's this?" Amon asked.
"On that drive are the instructions and formula for making the Orbo cure." Michael told him. Amon looked at him like he'd grown a second head.
"There's an orbo cure?"
"It's an anti-Orbo injection. I developed it myself. No one else has this formula, or even the knowledge that one might need to be made. I figured that HQ had no real use for my research, considering that only STN-J Hunters and Plant members have used the Orbo and thus suffered its effects."
There was a long pause. "Why are you giving this to me?"
"Robin never used the Orbo, which we're all thankful for, and Dojima had only minimal exposure, though she wanted the shot anyway. There were no changes or side affects with her, by the way. But I did a lot of research when Karasuma mentioned to me that the scientists at the Plant noted her diminished abilities as side effects of the Orbo, and also that they were unable to use her to make Orbo as a result, which I'm guessing is the only reason we got her out of there alive."
"Michael. The point."
"The point is that I gave Miss Karasuma this treatment two months ago, and not only is she more mentally stable, but there's a marked increase in the strength of her abilities. She's nearly back up to S-class at this point. Haruto has still refused to take it, but the data I've gathered on the results of her treatment alone have told me a lot of things."
"Like what?" Amon leaned back in his seat, face blank, which told Michael he wasn't happy with what he was hearing. But Michael was going to tell him anyway, because Amon was his friend, and he needed to know.
"Like that you and Haruto both need to take this treatment, even if neither of you are active Craft users. The reason," Michael continued when it looked like Amon was going to cut him off, "Is that the Orbo has not only stunted the natural development of your abilities, but has caused a ninety-seven percent increase in probability that both of you will have major mental instability when your powers do awaken. And considering both of you are active Hunters and have the ability to effectively use anti-Witch bullets, and both of your lineages, that's a when, not an if."
Amon picked the flash drive up and examined it. He still looked blank. "Have you explained all of this to Sakaki?"
"Yeah, and he still refuses to take it. Haruto thinks that because the Orbo stunted the development of his Witch genes that if he leaves things as they are he won't awaken. However, the data just doesn't support that. He's being stupid."
[Privately, in that moment, Amon feels kinship with Sakaki for maybe the first time ever, as the scene of his mother's awakening plays over and over in his head. If he's afraid of anything, it's to become like her. To become crazy the moment his powers awaken. But he also trusts Michael, and Michael says that he'll awaken either way, and the way he is now he is more likely to go crazy when he does. Amon decides then and there that he'll take the treatment.]
"I'll think about it." Amon announced, and slipped the flash drive into his coat pocket. Michael smiled, because that was more than he'd gotten out of Sakaki. He knew that Amon was smart enough to figure out that the best solution would be to take it, even if it took him a little while. Hopefully Michael would know by the end of his two weeks what Amon had decided.
Either way, he had some work to do. But first: "Hey, Amon? Could you point me in the direction of the bathroom?"
Preview, Chapter Five: Michael was used to long nights and late hours. Hell, he hardly slept as it was. Still, he didn't appreciate being woken up at three in the morning every goddamned day.