thanks to WingedPanther73 for help

Omi was glad the shop no longer had crowds of fan girls around. All they needed was a mob of shrill teenagers demanding they open on time. As it was, they had probably already lost paying customers. The thought would annoy Asuka, in addition to all this.

In night work he had the authority, but it was day, and she was a strong willed woman. She narrowed her eyes at him and said, "If you won't take him to a hospital, a doctor, then."

Omi's arm tightened protectively around the smaller boy's shoulders. "Doctors would just turn him over to a hospital."

"Not all doctors." She turned to Yohji for backing. "Doc Jibiki wouldn't, would he?"

Yohji had been watching this without much interest. Obviously, as far as he was concerned, if Omi wanted to bring home a stray, it was Omi's business. As long as he fed him and cleaned up after him. He needed a minute to disentangle Jibiki from the others. "Weiss took care of Jibiki well before you joined us."

Omi knew Ken was quite prepared to take his time in opening. He'd told Omi years ago, if Persia so wanted the shop to make a profit, he could come and heft potting mix himself. "I know a doc from before." Every team member had their own before.

The boy at Omi's side looked up and said, "I'm all right. But the others. You have to get someone to help the others." Shota wasn't much younger than Omi, but the look he gave them, trusting adults to set things right, was from where Omi hadn't been for a long time.

Asuka said, "And what about the arrangement for the chess club? That's your job. And that's what you should be doing."

Omi wasted a few seconds regretting he'd ever said anything about a fourth member of Weiss. Asuka pulled her weight, but what he'd had in mind was another guy, and one reasonably indifferent to things like Omi bringing home strays.

As for the rengade Yuushi Honjou, no one had seen him for a while. It seemed unlike anyone alive and in Japan could dodge Kritiker this long. While he understood Persia felt threatened by a personal vendetta, Omi was disappointed by the way he'd turned all the resources of Kritiker to protecting himself.

He glanced out of the window. The autumn afternoon was growing late, but there was time for one delivery. He smiled sweetly at Asuka. "You don't mind taking care of the shop while I take him home, do you?"

Asuka was tough, but not tough enough to stand up to that look. She nodded.

Omi looked at Ken. Lately he'd been looking more and more to Ken. Being Weiss' point put Ken where he had to make decisions for the whole team, and Omi had learned to trust him as the leader in the field. He'd never been disappointed.

Ken gave him a brief nod. It meant while Omi was out he'd do his best on the computer, chasing up the few leads Shota had been able to give them.

Omi led Shota down to the garage with reassuring words. He wondered why they felt so hollow to himself. It should have been easy. A small group of kidnappers holding children for ransom wasn't a case for Weiss, really. When there weren't high level fixes, the police were perfectly competent, and could have managed it. Crashers could have done it.

But the police hadn't done anything yet. With Knight missing, Crashers weren't at their best. Omi felt this case was important. He wouldn't have felt so scared if it wasn't, would he?

Shota said, "Are we taking that?" His gaze was on Yohji's Seven. It became ludicrously disappointed when Omi wheeled out the delivery bike. He gave Omi a nearby address.

Omi tried a few more questions on the way home, but Shota could tell him very little about the kidnappers. As they moved into suburbs of short winding streets and walled gardens, most of his talk was street directions. Omi was so distracted by this, he didn't see the car coming.

Even Omi didn't have time to make out more than it was big and dark and headed straight for them. Then they were in the gutter, with the shards of the bike around them. He tried to shake the dizziness off, at least enough to see what was happening.

He vaguely heard the car brake. Its door slammed open. A heavy foot kicked him out of the way and Shota was lifted, crying and protesting.

Then there was another car braking. Gun shots. Lots of gun shots, suddenly stopping.

Omi pulled himself out of his daze by sheer will power. Two obvious yakuza thugs, outstandingly large and outstandingly unpleasant, were facing off against one man. Omi's training noted the two automatics lying on the street.

Shota was held up in front of one thug, who was saying, "Let go that whip thing or I'll break the kid's neck!"

Even in Omi's fuddled state, it was an easy shot. Omi's dart hit the man in the throat just as a whiplash curled around his wrist. The second thug seemed to feel no loyalty, and pushed his staggering partner into the whip wielder's arms as he made for their car.

Omi called, "Get down!" and both men did. The second dart brushed over its target's head, but it didn't hit him. It went into the car. There was a loud curse from its front seat. At least one man was still inside. He drove off at once, leaving one of his crew dead and one bound by the whiplash.

The man holding the whip turned round and saw Omi with a dart in his hand, and a thoughtful look on his face. "You must be Bombay." No mistaking who he was. For weeks Weiss had been told he was their number one target.

Omi hid the dart and nodded at Shota. Honjou said, "Police car coming. We're very near Shota's house. Both the cops and the crooks were keeping an eye on it."

"And so were you." It wasn't a question.

"Yes." Honjou looked at his prisoner. "They've got a kid of mine, and they're going to give him back." He picked him up by the scruff of the neck and threw him into the back seat of his car.

Omi wasn't invited. But the first police siren was very close, and he could hear more approaching. He dived into the front seat of the Porsche right after Honjou.

While Honjou skidded around a bend Omi squirmed around trying to see the police car. Honjou said, "Hang on, but don't fasten your seat belt."

"But Shota - "

"The cops are right there." Still driving at full speed with his right hand, with his left Honjou fumbled out a small leather case and threw it in Omi's lap. "The truth drug is in the green dabbed hypodermic. Give him the full dose."

Omi rolled over the back of the front seat. Of course their prisoner fought, but Omi jabbed the needle into the first bare skin available. Honjou kept driving, fast and furious. Omi guessed it made him feel better.

Picking the information they wanted out of his ramblings was harder than Omi thought. The thug really was a revolting person. At last, they made out the other kidnapped children were being held in an old freighter. They even got the directions.

As he began to follow those directions, Honjou tossed over his shoulder, "Ask him if Naoe Nagi's all right."

Omi gripped the nearest back of a car seat. This driving didn't make him feel better. The prisoner was lucky to be drugged for it. "Naoe Nagi?"

He was asking Honjou as much as the kidnapper. It was the second who answered. "Dunno him."

Honjou persisted. "Looks like Bombay here. A little smaller, darker hair and eyes."

"Too old. He'd be too much...We always gettem younger."

"I'll call the cops."

"Kritker, first."

Omi looked at the back of Honjou's head. "You do know Kritiker has a kill-on-sight order out for you."

"The first thing our targets are going to do is run, but they might kill the kids before they do. We're almost there, but we might not arrive in time, and even if we do we don't know how much muscle they have. We mightn't get through. Kritiker will answer an emergency call faster. There are four twelve year olds in that freighter. Call Kritiker."

As they sighted the wharfs, they also saw the other car. Omi exclaimed, "Good driving, Knight! Look out, Honjou-san!"

Honjou ploughed the Porsche right into the heavier car. Even then, Omi winced at using a Porsche like that.

Without hesitation, Honjou was out of his wreck, diving into the other. There was only one man there. Honjou punched him hard enough to keep him asleep for a week.

Omi looked down at the kidnapper at his feet. The guy was blinking and cursing as he came out from the influence. Omi hated killing someone so helpless, but it wouldn't be the first time. He bent down, his hand flicked, and it was done.

Squirming out of the car, he nodded at Honjou's questioning gaze. The Crasher said, " I go fore, you aft." The crooks were in the better cabins, fore. When Omi opened his mouth, "We've had hostages panic on us before. You can take out the crooks as well as me, but I can't deal with the kids as well as you."

Omi said, "I was just agreeing."

He rather expected Honjou to charge straight in. Honjou struck him as that sort of guy. But the big man faded into the shadows almost as well as a Weiss would have. Omi turned his attention to his own part of the mission.

A smaller boat was its own alarm system, dipping under a boarder's foot. The freighter was logy with water. The kidnappers wouldn't even have to go to the hold they were keeping the children. They could scuttle the ship from the bridge.

At least the steel deck didn't change its steady rise and fall as he landed on it. He ran for the only hatch not rusted shut. The ladder down from it was slimy, slippery as if soaped.

Omi landed in a passageway, pitch dark at first. Despite his haste, he took a moment to steady himself and let his eyes adjust. He paused for a moment before pressing the light button. But speed was more important than stealth.

It was his hearing which led him to the right hold. A child was crying, and another trying frantically to quiet it.

The door wasn't locked. The heavy steel bar across it was enough. Omi pushed it and let it fall to the ground with a clatter. 'If they hear that, and come running...' He pulled his mind back from that hope. In the field anger and vindictiveness could get in the way.

He knew just how the room would look before he entered. It would be loud with machinery, have great pipes running through it, stink of industrial waste. The colder, sea-smelling dark snapped him back to where he was.

The children were huddled in the furthest corner. The only light leaked in with Omi, but it didn't look as he expected. Smaller, for one thing.

The cold was deadly. The smell of seawater and old ship wasn't enough to drown out the latrine smells in the room.

He said, "Come on! We have to hurry!" As they stared at him in confusion he wondered if Honjou would have been the better choice. He could have picked one up physically. "Please, trust me."

They shuffled forward a little. He eased himself out of the doorway. If they bolted...

There was a great grinding noise and the overhead hatch opened. Fresh air and fiery sunset seemed to explode in their dark. For a moment Omi thought it was Honjou.

The blond hair was the same. Otherwise he was a total stranger to Omi. Though he had no doubt of his intention. He lifted the gun to point it at the children. Then he said, "This is all Shota's fault," and Omi knew him.

Knew that he knew him. Big hands grabbing, and fear, and Persia saying If you don't do better I'll hand you back to the bad ones. And he was back. He heard a sob, and thought it was his own.

The click of a gun being cocked had alerted him on many missions. It brought him back now. He was in the middle of a mission without his team's back up.

With the clear sight used to run a mission, he saw he did have back up. Knight was trusting him to do his half of the mission, keep the kids safe, while he did his of rounding up the crooks. And he couldn't have an easier shot.

The dart hit the elbow of the gun arm. The arm was suddenly slack, the gun sliding away on the deck.

Omi didn't bother to waste more attention on the kidnapper. The dart's poison didn't give the victim time for any dying strokes. He turned to the children again. "It may not be as urgent, now. But we still need to get you out of here."

All four of them looked up at the sky, and nodded. They followed Omi out the door, slower than they wanted. None of them were without bruises.

He guided them up to the side of the deck sheltered from wind. It was the side facing the docks, and looking at the rundown, verminous buildings, Omi decided to keep them on the ship. He re-contacted Manx on his cell phone. Too unreliable for missions, but it worked now. Putting it away, he told them, "People are coming to take you back to your parents. It'll only be a little longer. But I have to leave now."

The rescued were as co-operative as they normally were in such situations. One of the girls even smiled at him.

He smiled back and went to the bridge, where Honjou was brooding over his roped prisoners. Honjou said, "None of them know anything about Nagi. Where's your prisoner?"

"Actually, he's dead." Honjou rolled his eyes and followed him toward the loading ramp. "Who's Nagi?"

"He was the eldest of my charges, sort of helped me with the orphanage."

Omi fussed around with his jacket, adjusting the last two darts and hiding them again. Then he put on his gloves. They walked down the ramp. Omi found a place against a concrete wall, which had the last of the evening sun shining on it. More important, they wouldn't be seen here. "Orphanage? What were you doing in an orphanage?"

Honjou chuckled. "Not applying for admission. There was an old nun running an orphanage. She'd gone a bit off her head with poverty and insecurity, and having all the responsibility all the time. Once I'd seen she'd got into care, I had to stay and look after things, till the Church could send help."

"You mean all this time you've been running an orphanage?" Honjou looked at him, with a quirked eyebrow. "As well as hanging around waiting to kill Persia?"

"Persia? Oh, King. Why should I want to do that?"

Omi heard a particular click and stepped between it and Honjou. "No, Ocicat. This man may not be a legitimate target."

Asuka's voice said mildly. "I was uncocking the crossbow."

In their cooling niche, Omi and Honjou, and presumably the hidden Weiss, watched the first Kritiker agents drive up to the freighter and hurry aboard. Honjou said thoughtfully, "Why should you think..? There was this hot shot lawyer. He made it seem so reasonable to go after a crooked cop." He turned round and looked at Omi. "The cop's name was Shuichi Takatori. Persia wouldn't be a Takatori, would he?"

Omi opened his mouth. "I don't remember!" he cried out, surprising himself even more than the others. "I'm not allowed to remember, or – or - "

Ken stepped up to his side, and put an arm around his shoulders. Glaring at Honjou, "You can go now."

"So you can smooth out your Bombay again? I don't think so." Honjou seemed quite prepared to take on as many Weiss as necessary.

Omi decided to pass over how unlikely it was Honjou could do anything if Siberian wanted to drag Bombay off by force. He gave a meaningful nod at the Kritiker agents around the ships. At least it started them moving in the same direction. Ken led the way through the rusty walls. It was already full night in these closed spaces.

"Indeed, Honjou-san, this man is my friend. If anything bad's been done to me, he didn't know." To deflect their tense attention from each other, "He'll be glad to look for your friend Naoe, too."

Yohji's Seven and Ken's Yamaha waited side by side. Trying to be tactful, Ken circled around his motorbike, checking its condition as if they'd been separated for a week. Unnervingly sudden, Yohji and Asuka were standing there, watching Honjou as if he was the main course in a zoo.

Honjou said to Omi, "I don't want Nagi in Kritiker's hands."

Omi said, "If he's nearly my age, he's..?"

"Fourteen."

Omi had been expecting older. He was seventeen himself, after all. He shelved one little speech and began another, fulsomely reassuring Honjou he would be searched and, if possible, returned. Omi hoped it would be possible. Rather hesitant, Honjou handed over a photo of Nagi Naoe. Omi accepted it with, "And can we give you a lift to the orphanage?"

"I know where it is," said Ken. His fists were clenched again.

It would be a pity if Honjou was pardoned from being a target only to have his head busted by a peeved Siberian. Omi shook Yuushi's hand in parting, and gave another little speech, this time about Honjou's saving the kidnapped children.

When Siberian and Knight had roared off on the motorbike, Yohji lit up a cigarette. "Guess tall, blond and handsome is your type." Ushering Asuka into the front seat, "How're you going to break it to Ouka?"

Omi listened to his teasing with as little attention as he could. His thoughts were listing and ordering what could happen to an unprotected fourteen year old in Tokyo. At least this was one thing even Ouka couldn't blame on Crawford.

As soon as Yohji had run out of breath, and he was a smoker, "Yohji-kun, if we find Naoe, please, don't tell Honjou, till we've checked up he didn't run away because of Honjou."

"And if he did?"

Omi didn't need to answer. Asuka said, "I'd bet my entire stock of gizmo-ed bolts he's exactly the decent, straightforward - " which started Yohji off again.