Note: Seems like everyone has jumped to conclusions… Apologies for the long delay in update. School, as always, sucks… It's also bittersweet that we know more information about Volume 4+; the canon of the next few chapters will be off… WAY off… (not like they were spot on in the pervious chapters...)Just a warning, is all.

Anyways, like the previous chapter, please pay attention to the dates. Um… you might need to refer to the previous chapter for things to make any sense.

Life, Liberty, And…

A Gunslinger Girl fan fiction by:

Sintendo

Chapter Fourteen: Revelations

Tokyo, Japan; 2200 hours, December 22, 2005

Percival filled his lungs with air as he exited the airport terminal.

"Home!" He gasped, "Good to be back!"

The city nightlife bounced around him; he felt he could pick the distant lights like a piece of candy on a shelf.

His father, however, could not share his excitement; only able to act the part. His hair was disheveled and greasy. Though the weather was below freezing temperatures, the man's face was covered in sweat, promptly to be wiped away by a kerchief. It was apparent to Rei that something was on his mind.

"Excuse me," Bradley said, "I need to make a phone call."

Social Welfare Agency; Rome, Italy; 1300 hours, December 23, 2005

As Henrietta and Rico played in the snow, a group of familiar faces entered the courtyard.

"Claes!" Henrietta squealed, "Triela! Baldo! Welcome back!" Rico echoed her greetings.

Much to the girl's surprise, their welcoming was hastily shot down by the sour mood on Claes' face. Though Triela and Baldo were equally sullen, their response was a bit more positive. Claes ignored the ongoing conversations between her peers and retreated into her room.

"Triela," Henrietta began, "What happened to Claes?"

Triela sighed, "Nothing."

Tokyo, Japan; 1000 hours, December 25, 2005

Bradley basked in the happiness and joy that filled the room while his children and relatives expressed their gratitude for the gifts her brought from Italy. From expensive articles of Gucci clothing for the females, to Energie for the men, everyone was pleased with their gifts no matter the size.

Once the shredded gift wrapping paper was thrown away and the frenzy calmed, a trio of unopened gifts lay by themselves under the Christmas tree. Each of them was different in size and shape as well as wrapping paper, but the recipient's name stayed the same.

"Honey?" Bradley's wife called him over, "Who is this?"

Bradley smiled to himself for a moment, losing himself in his own thoughts before answering, "A good friend in Italy," he said, "She's a patient at the Base's hospital."

Social Welfare Agency; Rome, Italy; 1200 hours, January 3, 2006

The return of Bradley and company was business as usual — underwhelming at best; completely forgotten at its worst. Though it would be the last leg of his inspection duty, it was treated as if he never set foot upon the Agency before. Formalities were used. Draghi and Lorenzo went about making sure everything was in place. Even the cyborgs were well behaved when Bradley passed.

Neither of these pleased nor impressed him. Bradley escaped into his quarters after a brief meeting with the Chiefs of Section One and Two, taking time to unpack his belongings. He was nearly complete when knocking was heard on his door.

"Come in." he called out, "Oh. Hello Claes."

He greeted her with a chin gesture, and then continued unpacking. No response came from the girl.

"I-uh," He forced a smile toward her, "Percy, Rei and I bought you gifts while we were back home."

"Oh," she answered, "Thank you."

"Go ahead and open them."

Bradley presented the largest gift first. Being a bit heavy, Bradley had to slide the box over to Claes, who sat on Bradley's bed. The gift was from Percival.

Claes let out a yelp, "It's a computer."

Bradley smiled, "Now you can find stuff to read online."

He retrieved the next gift. Perfectly wrapped in gold paper, it was of a modest size; taller than Percival's gift, but much thinner. It was from Rei.

Claes had to hold her stomach as she laughed, "She knows I don't wear formal dresses," she gasped for air, "It's beautiful, nonetheless."

"Actually she suggested that I give that to you," Bradley inspected the true-white silk gloves that complimented the gown, "But I thought it was a bit too much for you."

"You'd be right. I'd probably never look at you the same way again."

"Which is why I decided against it," he laughed, "I know you much better than Rei ever will that's for sure. But at least you have something to wear whenevr the occasion calls for it."

"That's true," She sat up, "What'd you get for me?"

The last package that Bradley presented to Claes was not wrapped in gaudy paper, nor was it particularly large. It was rectangle in shape, blue in color, and an enigma in contents.

"This is from me," Bradley said after hesitating a bit, "I planned on giving this to you a little later on, but… Well, I suppose you've earned the right to see it now."

Claes noticed a lack of enthusiasm in his voice. Nevertheless, she removed the simple wrapping paper, producing a binder filled with sheets of paper.

"What's this?"

She began reading the cover of the binder only to drop it suddenly and spill its contents. She fell to the floor, unable to control herself or hold back the tears that blurred her vision.

Bradley sighed to himself; the name "Raballo" clearly read amongst the strewn paper. He almost regretted giving her this "gift".

Social Welfare Agency; Rome, Italy; 1300 hours, December 23, 2005

"Nothing?" Henrietta wondered, "What do you mean nothing?"

The 4 cyborgs retreated into the cafeteria and warmed themselves with hot cups of tea as they conversed. Henrietta, bursting with energy as always, nearly spilled the contents of her cup onto the table due to several quick arm movements.

"Exactly that," Triela said, "Nothing happened."

"Ahem," Baldo interrupted, "I believe what Triela is trying to say is that Claes fell into a trap."

"Trap? Was she hurt?"

"Maybe not physically…" Baldo trailed off.

"Jeez, you're just as vague," Triela cleared her throat, "The mission went as planned. We patrolled our sector without any problems, and we rendezvoused with Section One at the correct time and location. It's just that, at the rendezvous point, we were ambushed."

"By, like, a hundred troops." Blado added.

Triela continued, "We fought back for almost a half hour before everyone ran out of ammunition with the enemy still approaching. That's when Claes decided to go "Rambo" and stole the bayonet off my shotgun and ran outside."

Rico pondered, "She got rid of all the targets with your bayonet?"

"That's the problem," Triela sighed, "When we caught up to her, not a single person was to be found. Dead or injured, nobody was there."

Social Welfare Agency, Draghi's Office; Rome, Italy; 0900 hours, January 3, 2006

"The plan worked perfectly," Draghi said to his guest, "With the exception of a few of my men who knew about this, everyone reacted the way they were suppose. My men who knew nothing of this had some fun, I believe, as did yours; they were out of shape anyways. They complained of lack of assignments, so I'm assuming they've had their quota for now."

The other man stood silent.

"Come now, it's too late for second thoughts. Honestly, if you hadn't pulled the order to retreat, we'd have 100 dead soldiers on our hands. Your intuition amazes even me."

"So what was your initial plan?" Lorenzo asked, "I know your men wanted a bit of action, but don't you think pitting them against cyborgs was a little careless?"

The man leaned against the nearest wall, "You're right, it was a bit careless on my part. There is a bit of sense to my madness, though. I wanted to gauge the cyborgs' abilities. They've never been led by a peer before, and she's never been alone. By observing what they do in such a situation, we could save lives of our men… and get rid of more of the enemy."

Lorenzo laughed, "You're such a sly bastard; you know that, General?"

Bradley shared in his laughter, "I told you never to call me that."

Social Welfare Agency; Rome, Italy; 1200 hours, January 7, 2006

For the following few days, Bradley took great care to avoid Claes; fearing some sort of radical action she may take against him. Initially she reacted calmly; wiping her tears after dropping the papers, then cleaning up, being careful to place each document where they belonged and walking out of Bradley's room with the binder under her arm. Bradley, fearing a repeat of the Elsa incident, didn't want anyone else around him to get hurt, so distance, he thought, was the best course of action for now.

It was only when Triela approached him that his assumptions were shattered.

"Hello, Triela." Said a nervous Bradley; Triela refused to let him pass the hallway.

"We need to talk." She said.

He tried to play innocent, "Um… about what?"

"You know 'about what'." She pouted, "Just what exactly has Claes been reading non-stop for the past 4 days?"

"Non-stop?" Bradley repeated, "I believe I saw her in the cafeteria the other day, so 'non-stop' may be a bit of an exaggeration… she might have picked up a sandwich or two… I don't know how you children work, either, but I assume that she also goes to the bathroom…"

"Stop avoiding my question!"

"Ok, why do you want to know?"

Triela looked away, "I want to know why she's been… I don't really know how to explain it, but—"

"Is she angry?"

Triela shook her head, "Far from it! Once in a while she'll start sobbing, but I know for sure she isn't angry or anything like that. Now would you please answer my question? What is it that she's reading?"

"Have you," he hesitated, but then said, "Have you ever heard of a man named 'Raballo'?"

By the look of shock on the girl's face, the answer was obvious.

Bradley continued, "What I gave Claes was Raballo's profile and history," he paused for a second, and then, "Including how and why he died according to a report written by Jean."

"Why in the world would you do that?" Triela asked, "Wouldn't that just hurt her?"

"Well, from what you say, the opposite is happening. Honestly, though, I have no idea what came over me. Maybe I pitied her, and how she knows nothing of her time prior to Raballo's death. But then I saw Henrietta, you and the others, and how you girls are just fine without that knowledge."

He began to place a cigarette in his lips, but decided against it when he saw the curious look on Triela's face.

"Anyways, I guess I felt guilty about the whole thing."

"How so?"

"Everytime I trained with her, I would only see the work of that man, not mine. Everything I 'taught' her was already unconsciously known by her; my guidance only allowed her unconscious to be released. What I was doing was stealing whatever Raballo was trying to raise, and claiming her for my own. You understand?"

"No." She said with confidence, "What, did that make you mad?"

"Not exactly mad," Bradley sighed, "Let me put it this way: you collect Teddy bears, right?"

"Collect is the wrong word, its more like caring for them."

"Uh, well… yeah. Say you take care of them for a while, then you go away for a long time, but you forget to leave your bears under someone else's care. Then, Henrietta comes by, sees your dusty, unused bears, and then decides to take care of them from now on."

"Oh, Henrietta wouldn't do that."

"Let's just pretend that she would. How would you feel?"

"Not how you feel, that's for sure."

Bradley sighed again, "Well, what if your bears could talk? Say that when Henrietta takes care of them, she never mentions anything about you. When you come back, they're exactly the way you remember them, but they don't know you. All they know was that Henrietta took care of them, and not you. Understand?"

Triela thought for a moment. By what Bradley saw, she was straining to understand his analogy.

Finally, she said, "My Teddy bears can't talk."

Bradley threw his arms up in frustration, "I guess it's just me then."

Triela laughed, "Well, I think you should go and talk with her."

Bradley figured that it was about time to face Cales and find out what's really going on in her mind. Sending Triela off with a brief "thank you", Bradley immediately strolled to her room, knocking on the door to confirm Claes' presence.

"Yes?" She called from inside.

"Claes?" Bradley responded, "It's Bradley. You busy?"

"Not at all," Her tone of voice was a normal as ever, "Come in."

Entering the room, Bradley spotted the girl perched on her bed. Without a book in hand and her legs swinging, it was almost as if she was expecting him.

"Have you figured it out yet?" Bradley began.

"Figure out what? The trap you setup for me?" Claes said.

"Yeah."

"The minute I stepped out of that control tower, I knew you were behind this," She teased him, "The uh… the call signs 'Mania 1' assigned us were a dead giveaway."

"Bradley laughed, "I was trying to piss you off."

"Not only that, but why would an Italian terrorist organization be located in Somalia?"

They both shared a few moments of hearty laughter. Then, after they caught their breaths, Bradley started the unavoidable question.

"Have you read it all?" Bradley said.

"Yeah." She said, knowing what he was speaking of.

It was an eternity before Bradley spoke again.

"So… are you ok?"

"Of course I'm ok." Claes said, "Why wouldn't I be?"

Bradley gave a sigh of relief, "I thought you'd be angry."

"At who? You?" She said with a hint of laughter, "It's stupid to be angry at the messenger."

"So you're angry with Jean? With the Agency?"

"I'm not angry at all."

By now, Bradley was getting a little more than curious. He wanted to probe her for more answers.

"So what do you think? About what the Agency did to you? About all the lies we've been feeding you?"

"Nothing." The girl was blunt, almost annoyed, "What's done is done; nothing can ever reverse the past."

"Oh?"

She tossed Raballo's binder onto the coffee table below, "If none of that ever happened," she said with a grunt, "I would have never been able to go back to work as an agent of Section 2. I never would have set foot outside of the agency. I never would have met you, or Percy, or Rei. I'm a completely different person than the Claes in that binder."

The man couldn't respond; the bottom of his throat was filling with too much pride for the girl.

"I am Claes," she jumped down from her perch to stand before Bradley, "I decide what I'm going to do; I'm not going to let my past stop me from becoming what I want to be."