Maybe, life is like a ride on the freeway
Dodging bullets while you're trying to find your way
Everyone's around, but no one does a damn thing
It brings me down, but I won't let them
-"Staring At The Sun", The Offspring
Chapter 9
The Beast Stirs
TOP SECRET EYES ONLY
Odin-level Clearance required by order of [REDACTED]
October 3rd, 2017:
Transcript of Project: Balor Beta Experiment at Site [REDACTED]
Ground Control: Ground Control to Major Tom. Ground Control to Major Tom. Take your protein pills and put your helmet on. Commencing countdown, engines on. Check ignition, and may God's love be with you.
Major [REDACTED]: Major Tom to Ground Control. I'm stepping through the door. [Pause] Beginning shakedown sequence of the Homunculus Drive. All conditions green. Initializing.
Ground Control: We read you, Major. Everything checks out on our end. Time to begin phase two.
Major [REDACTED]: Understood, Ground Control.
Ground Control: Start slowly. Deep breaths, and focus only on a single emotion. Any emotion will do. [Pause] No reaction. Are you focusing, Major?
Major [REDACTED]: I… I can't. This is… just too ridiculous. I'm sorry, Ground Control, but…
Ground Control: We understand, major. This is brand new technology, and you are the first to really make the grade. When this is over, the papers will want to know what shirt you wore today. Now, focus. Let's try something simple- you're married. Think of your wife.
Major [REDACTED]: Okay, Ground Control. [pause]
Ground Control: Just breathe, major. Breathe.
Major [REDACTED]: I…
[Rumbling]
Ground Control: Well done, Major! We're getting a reaction from the Homunculus Drive.
[Long pause]
Major [REDACTED]: I'm… I'm floating in a most peculiar way. Planet earth is blue… and there's nothing I can do.
Ground Control: What was that?
Major [REDACTED]: [static]
Ground Control: Major, report.
Major [REDACTED]: It's in my head! Oh God, it's in my head- please, make it stop! Please- [incoherent screams, sounds of violent thrashing]
Ground Control: Jesus Christ, these readings… Major! Get ahold of yourself!
Major [REDACTED]: [continued ravings, screams]
Ground Control: Shut down the damn machine!
[rumbling ceases, silence]
Major [REDACTED]: [hoarsely] Major Tom to Ground Control… I… Tell my wife I love her very much…
[Silence]
Ground Control: Ground Control to Major Tom, your circuit's dead, there's something wrong. Can you hear me Major Tom? Can you hear me Major Tom? Damn it, someone get a medic down there now-
[static]
[REDACTED]: Cancel that order.
Ground Control: But sir, he's-
[REDACTED]: Utterly insane, and now comatose. The mental contamination is too great to undo, Doctor. You know that.
Ground Control: [pause] Understood. We'll transfer him to a secure wing at our private facility in [REDACTED].
[REDACTED]: Make sure to erase any evidence of his identity on his person, and list the Major as MIA in our records. As far as anyone outside this room is concerned, the Major died fighting in Egypt, understood? This never happened.
As his eyes finished scrolling down the page, the man in the chair behind the desk barked out a short, harsh laugh. He was a bear of a man, with graying, shaggy hair that made him looked like an aged warrior.
His companion, a slim, younger man in an impeccable business suit, eyed him with a confused look. "I thought you'd be displeased. The test of the Homunculus Drive three days ago went…"
"As expected," interrupted the first man, still smiling humorlessly. "There are few who can stand the biological-synchronous link with the machine."
"Are we sure it's necessary for Balor?" the other asked curiously.
"It will not function otherwise, Assistant Director," came the icy reply. "When we began this project, we agreed the mental contamination risk was acceptable when you compare the potential of this new technology."
"Is it the serum?" the man in the suit questioned. "The reports from your man in the field seem to show promise, but we've yet to try it out in a more suitable condition -"
"That's not quite true," the first man interrupted again, the note of grim humor in his voice returning. "As we speak, Luciano is conducting a test of his own."
The Assistant Director raised an eyebrow. "A test? You're saying the incident in Brittania right now is…"
"A test of the serum's effectiveness in the field," the gray-haired man agreed. "We'll see how it compares to the projected results."
The Assistant Director took a step back, face looking pale. "Your man engineered a hostage situation involving hundreds of lives to cover up a simple experiment?"
"We're determined," he smirked, and his eyes shined with the clear, burning light of a fanatic. "Is there a problem? It's all For Science, after all, is it not? Just think of the advances the Institute will have made at the completion of the Balor- all the power the Federation will have at its disposal."
The man in the suit swallowed, throat tight, and said nothing.
The gray haired man chuckled. "Don't worry, Assistant Director. The blood will be on our hands, not yours, if it frightens you that badly."
00000
"Mommy…" a child sobbed in the background, while her mother whispered gentle comforts to her daughter.
"Quiet the girl down," one of his hired guns growled, but it was without malice- they weren't the terrorists you saw on the television, loose cannons with even looser trigger fingers. Each and every one of them was a battle-hardened veteran, either loyal to the household of La Brittania or, more commonly, bought from various mercenary groups. They wouldn't threaten them, but just the sound of their voices was enough to scare the people back into submission.
Clovis felt a moment of regret as he walked through the once crowded airport, its patrons now sequestered into several groups separated into several isolated rooms, secured by five armed men each.
Children. He wished this didn't have to involve children. It wasn't good for anyone- nothing got the public more riled up than harming children, and Clovis himself found the idea distasteful. It just made things… messy.
He banished the moment with his favorite fantasy of his fulfilled ambitions, the idea of taking the mantle of the Emperor around his shoulders, sitting upon the throne of the Emperors of Brittania which was now left only in a museum in London. The regret was drowned in a flood of euphoria as he imagined the looks on the faces of his siblings as they knelt before the throne- his throne. Even Schneizel, for all his brilliance, had not yet returned Brittania to its place on the world stage the way he would.
Yes, that would be his crowning moment, and no one else's.
"It's time, your highness," Luciano said, with a mocking bow. "Your public awaits."
Clovis ignored the twitch of annoyance he felt- working with trash like Luciano, a low-level noble who just happened to have skill in military matters. Right now, compromise was the name of the game.
"Then let's get started," he said imperiously, and twirled on his heel.
I'm going to be Emperor, he reminded himself. Until that time, everything else could be endured.
00000
Luciano continued to hold the bow until long after Clovis left, before picking himself up with a self-satisfied grin.
"Arrogant twit," came a seething voice, and he turned to see Marika rounding the corner, her expression one of annoyance. She carried an assault rifle in her hands, which clashed somewhat with the same standard businesswoman's outfit she wore. "Lord Luciano, why are we helping this man again?"
"It's all part of the plan, Marika," Luciano replied casually, grinning as he shoved his hands into the pockets of a black leather duster. "How are our boys?"
"The sedatives are holding, but… my lord, is this really a good idea?" she asked hesitantly, looking skittish. "Those men are not stable."
"Of course they're not!" came the manically jovial reply, as Luciano started down the hallway. "But they're useful test subjects. And what better way to test them out discretely?"
Only someone like Luciano could call holding hundreds of people hostage as a discrete method of experimentation.
Marika's frown never abated.
Seeing her expression continuing its dark demeanor, Luciano clapped her on the shoulder, a fiendish light dancing in his eyes.
"Don't worry about it. Once we're sure that it works in live combat, we'll start really ramping up." And with that, he started down the hallway, still holding her against him with a grin. "Now come on. I want the package brought into the building, and then I want to see the boys myself."
So much to do, Luciano thought, eyes alight with a murderous glee. So very little time to kill.
00000
"So what are we looking at?" Naoto asked quietly, on the bridge of the Bishamonten. At his side was Rei (Lelouch, he corrected mentally) to his left, and Sancia to his right.
"Several teams on the rooftop, equipped with heavy anti-Knightmare weaponry, presumably to prevent an all-out blitz," Sancia reported. "They've set barricades at the entrances, supported by De Dannan Knightmare Frames. The building was originally designed to allow a flow of reinforcements from the mainland in Yamato in the event of a Brittanian uprising, and thus the layout of the building is prepared to repel attacks from the outside, not the inside. The most sensitive areas of the facility, such as the control tower and the security rooms, are locked down with defense systems designed to prevent exactly this kind of situation- blast proof windows, all exits sealed by metal doors a half a foot thick."
"Meaning the building has become a fortress," Naoto muttered, groaning. "This just gets better and better."
"Have there been any demands?" Rei asked tonelessly.
The rest of the bridge crew paused, still uncertain about the presence of the masked man in their midst, but since he was there as a guest of the Commander, they said nothing on the subject.
"We're receiving a broadcast now, from inside the airport," Sancia replied.
"Bring it up on screen, please," Rei requested. As it flickered to life, Lelouch sucked in a breath- he had guessed it would be one of his siblings, but the difference between intuition and physical confirmation was a large one.
Oh Clovis, you fool, Lelouch thought regretfully.
00000
"Citizens of the Japanese Empire," Clovis declared on the screen, hands held open in a gesture that seemed almost welcoming. Behind him, the familiar flag of the Brittanian Empire, long since abandoned, was draped prominently in the background. "My name is Clovis La Brittania, the Third Prince of the Brittanian Empire, and I represent my people, who have been trampled beneath your reign for the past seven years."
My people? Pretentious as always, aren't you, Clovis, Lelouch critiqued, arching a critical eyebrow. It was a good strategy to unify Brittanians behind him, though.
"Tonight we have taken control of the Kojiki airport to send a message to our oppressors," Clovis continued, voice full of the familiar regal haughtiness that Lelouch remembered as a child, "Our demands are simple. Five hundred million yen as a restitution for the suffering thrust upon on our nation, to be wired to an account of our choosing, and the release of the political prisoners being kept unjustly in the maximum security prison in New Kyoto. We will utilize one of the commercial airline planes to leave this airport once our demands are met, but be warned- we will not hesitate to kill the hostages if you do not cooperate with us."
"They're insane," Lelouch heard Naoto exclaim. "The prison in New Kyoto is holding some of the most dangerous terrorists and criminals we've managed to capture alive but haven't been able to bring to trial or to talk yet. The government will never agree to releasing such valuable sources of information, let alone some of the names on that list."
"We will give you four hours," Clovis finished coldly. "After that, for every hour that goes by, we will execute ten of our hostages, publically. Should we be attacked, we have set bombs throughout this building, which are ready to go off. We may die, but so will every single man, woman, and child in this place. Do not attempt a rescue."
The line cut.
"You damn fool," Lelouch whispered under his breath. "This isn't right, Clovis…"
"Rei?"
His head jerked up to meet Naoto's concerned gaze. "You're shaking," he said softly, under his breath to prevent the others on the bridge from noticing.
"I won't let him kill those people," Lelouch replied firmly, clenching his fists. "I'm going to save everyone in there."
Naoto paused, giving him a weighing look, as if trying to ascertain whether or not he could believe such a statement. Then, finally, a small smile appeared on his lips, and he pulled away.
"Then we'd better get started," Naoto muttered, grinning.
00000
"Where the hell did this come from?" Gino muttered, crouched over a soda at Malory's- he was still too young really to stay in the front legally, but Mac let it slide as long as he didn't drink anything alcoholic. The T.V. in front of him had just finished broadcasting Prince Clovis' statement, leaving a subdued crowd in its wake.
The other district leaders, aside from Claudio, had gone home already, while Darlton had stayed behind to speak with his son. The two of them were standing behind Gino, faces stony.
"What is the Commander going to say about this?" Gino asked, glancing over at Darlton, who frowned.
"This kind of method is abhorrent to her. She prefers a direct fight," Darlton replied, taking the seat next to Gino, signaling for a drink as he did so. "Whisky, on the rocks, Mac. If you've got it, I'd like the same bottle as last time."
Mac grunted, and reached under the bar, to reveal what looked like a very old, aged bottle of liquor, and pushed a glass of ice and the bottle towards Darlton, giving him a nod.
"Much obliged," Darlton said gratefully, pouring himself a drink, swirling it casually as he did so.
"So we're not throwing our support behind this," Gino said quietly, flicking a glance at the others with a furrowed brow.
"It's an interesting dilemma," Claudio admitted, taking the seat next to his father, away from Gino. He signaled Mac for an ale, and took an appreciate sip before continuing. "The goal of this group is the same as our own, and the Commander would never wish true ill against Prince Clovis. But what they're doing… is not something we can condone. The Brittanian Liberation Front has always tried never to involve itself in what is irrevocably a terrorist action. It's what separates us from the truly deranged people who lost sight of their goals."
Darlton nodded at his son's words, taking a slow gulp of the whisky, sighing appreciatively.
"Very nice," he said softly, before picking up where his son left off, "And you're right, son. We can't condone what they're doing, but neither can we do anything opposed to it. We're all on the same side, after all."
"I thought we were on the good guy's side," Gino pointed out, a bit sullenly as he raised an eyebrow. "I joined because I believed in setting right a wrong. Because I loved Brittania. Not to kill women and children."
"And I applaud you for it," Darlton acknowledged, raising the shot glass to him before taking another swallow. "The Commander feels the same way. But not everyone wants to fight that way. Your pilot, Fenette, seems more intent on revenge than winning freedom."
Gino bristled slightly, but Darlton raised his hands in a gesture of peace. "Easy, Weinberg. I meant nothing against the girl."
"What my father is trying to get at," Claudio interrupted, rolling his eyes, "Is that people fight for different reasons. And the way they fight is just as different. We can't go around condemning everyone who works in a way that we find distasteful- not if we want to win this war."
"What's the use in winning," Gino drawled slowly, fixing the older men with a hooded look, "If we become what we're fighting?"
To that, neither of the Darlton men had an adequate response, and they settled for their drinks instead. It was only after a few minutes passed that Andreas Darlton finally sighed, bringing his glass to his lips thoughtfully, without taking a drink.
"In any event," he said tiredly, "We won't be making a move today, regardless of how we may feel about this. It's better to see how all this plays out. We can decide what to do when the time comes."
Gino glanced back at the screen, where the flustered newscasters were attempting to restore some semblance of composure, and frowned.
Just doesn't feel right, Gino thought to himself darkly.
00000
"So this is as accurate a layout of the building as we can get," Naoto said quietly, bringing up the map on the table's display screen. It was a real time, touch sensitive map based upon a continuously streaming feed from orbiting satellites, giving them a nearly complete map of the area as of the present.
He, Lelouch, Sancia, Kallen, and Minami were sequestered in the war room of the Bishamonten, with one monitor on the wall keeping up a constant live feed of the news in case of any changes.
"From our spy satellites in orbit, we've determined there are three teams of terrorists on the rooftop, wielding RPGs and large caliber machine guns, all of which seems to be designed to repel armored assault," Naoto continued, "And what little we know about what's happening inside is that the hostages have been separated into groups, likely under heavy guard."
"The enemy is clever," Sancia observed quietly. "This was well thought out."
Too clever, Lelouch thought to himself, frowning beneath his mask. Clovis was never this smart, or this well-prepared. His style was to rush forward, guns blazing, sacrificing his pieces for short-term gains that ultimately failed to turn the tide. Easy to trap, easy to fool.
The likely truth of the matter dawned on him, and his blood ran cold.
There's someone else pulling the strings here.
Oh he was sure Clovis believed he was in charge, but someone close to him, someone likely in a secondary role, was the one whispering ideas in his ears, manipulating Clovis into acting according to their own plans.
"Rei?"
Lelouch's thoughts were interrupted as he glanced up, meeting Naoto's gaze.
"What do you think we should do? This is your battle, after all," the older man said quietly, his tone subtly reminding him of the trust Naoto had given him.
Reminded of this, Lelouch ignored his own speculations for now- bringing them up here would be too suspicious.
"The first thing to do is to secure the priority hostage, which for this operation we will code name 'Orihime', followed shortly by the lives of the civilians, who I will code name 'Haru' and assign a number to each group we discover," Lelouch said quietly, and tapped the map on the screen, enlarging the image of the sector he selected. "Judging by the layout of this facility, I would say that the air traffic control room here is the most obvious candidate for a command center for these terrorists. It's heavily fortified and has the equipment to allow coordination between the scattered groups. I would guess this is where the leaders of this group will be, alongside any VIPs."
"What about… 'Orihime'?" Kallen swallowed, schooling her face to be as professional as possible. Utilizing the code name Lelouch had coined was likely a way to separate her personal feelings from the matter.
It was, after all, what Lelouch himself was doing.
"Do you think they know she's there?" she finished, voice cracking slightly.
Lelouch shook his head. "I doubt it, Kallen-sama," he said quietly, trying to inject a note of comfort in his artificially distorted voice. "Prince Clovis doesn't seem to be the type of man to let an opportunity like this pass, if he knew. It's highly likely that since 'Orihime' was traveling incognito, no one but herself and a few trusted aides are aware of her presence."
"That makes sense to me," Naoto murmured, nodding his head, obviously giving him a critical look. "Are you planning an insertion?"
Lelouch nodded back. "It's the best way to ensure the civilians will escape unharmed."
"We can't take them through the barricades at the entrance," Minami pointed out, crossing his arms. "Any insertion team would have to travel without anti-armor support, meaning that those De Dannans would be next to impossible to get past, and we can't risk an all out assault to try and break through- civilian casualties would be inevitable."
"I'm aware of that, Major," Lelouch acknowledged, and brought up a different area on the map display screen. He tapped one of the blobs on the map, bringing up the image of a massive commercial airliner. It was followed swiftly by the known mechanical statistics of the machine, including carrying capacity and weight specifications. "This will be our extraction point."
"You want to use the commercial jets to escape?" Naoto exclaimed, raising an eyebrow. "It's pretty risky- we'd need to secure the pilots."
"The pilots are likely sectioned off with the civilians. And as a backup I would like any soldiers we have with aircraft training to be with the insertion teams," Lelouch replied.
"And what's to stop them from shooting down those aircraft full of civilians?" Kallen asked scathingly, giving him a nasty look. "They have plenty of anti-armor on the rooftop that could turn those planes into so much scrap metal."
Lelouch ignored it. "A second force will be necessary to neutralize the teams on the rooftop," he responded, "As well as a third insertion force to disrupt their communications and prevent them from organizing a counterattack."
There was a moment of silence as the assembled officers took in his plan, and as each of them were veterans of combat, they immediately saw the flaw in his plan.
"You want to coordinate three simultaneous assaults against a heavily entrenched enemy who has full knowledge of the time frame we have to attack, with high risk and high value targets in the crossfire, in an operation that clearly depends very heavily on the elements of speed and surprise," Naoto summarized, narrowing his eyes with a critical look.
"That is correct," Lelouch said, wincing inwardly.
"You're insane!" Kallen shouted, voicing the unspoken comment that was being held back by the rest of the room. "If even one force fails to act in the same time frame as the others, this mission will be so FUBAR that we may as well have shot the hostages ourselves!"
"Nonetheless," Lelouch said calmly, keeping his voice carefully unperturbed despite the nervous flutters in his own stomach, "It is our best chance of securing the hostages."
"Even if you can do coordinate such a complicated and extensive ground assault," Naoto said, stressing the word can with great vehemence, "Our insertion teams still need an LZ."
"The ones attacking the rooftop and disrupting communications will drop in via High Altitude Low Opening drops, from planes flying low enough to avoid detection. Luckily, this is autumn in London, and there are clouds tonight," Lelouch explained patiently, and tapped a point on the map. "This terminal here will be the breaching point for our hostage extraction force. It's the oldest in the airport, and is currently closed for repair. It should be deserted, and the terrorists should have no reason to watch this area. Since they've intentionally holed themselves up solely inside the main complex, our forces can cut through the fence and head in through there without being noticed."
"I saw that too. You still have the problem of accessing the rest of the complex without alerting the enemy, who have control over the security cameras," Naoto pointed out, crossing his arms. "And that still doesn't tell us how to access take down the leaders of this group, who are undoubtedly holed up in the control tower."
"We'll take down the leaders last. That fortress of theirs will be a prison," Lelouch assured them coolly, "As for the cameras, once the insertion teams are inside, they should be able to hack their way into the system's recordings and then play back a loop to fool the ones in the security rooms. After that, we'll have to trust to speed and the element of surprise to secure the hostages."
Everyone else took a few moments, trying to think of any more solid objections they could make to this plan. They found none.
"We'll need leaders for each team," Sancia noted quietly. "Sergeant Major Mao's squad has the most experience in air drop insertions into hostile territory, I believe."
"Then she'll lead the team on the rooftop. Commander, if you could assign a few technical officers to be part of the third team, I believe both of those forces can drop together, and then separate as it becomes necessary," Lelouch suggested. "Now, as for the insertion team…"
"I'll lead the insertion team," Kallen volunteered quietly, drawing looks from around the room.
"Kallen…" Naoto began, but his sister cut him off with a sharp look.
"I can do it," she interrupted firmly, and shot 'Rei' a challenging look. "And I'd feel better being on the ground where I can do something."
"But the Amaterasu won't be available to you," Minami pointed out.
"If it comes to me needing to pilot, then the shit has already hit the fan now, hasn't it?" Kallen replied, and again flicked a cold glare at Lelouch. "It would mean a total breakdown in the stealth and surprise- and if it comes to that, we'll figure out a way to get me into the pilot seat."
Her voice was clear and strong, like a silver trumpet, and utterly pure in its determination. Lelouch felt humbled- his convictions felt like a pale imitation in comparison.
"Very well," Naoto said, nodding crisply. "I'll approve this, and get everyone ready- it'll take about two and a half hours to organize everything. So we'll say that at 2100 hours, we will begin Operation: Tanabata."
"Tanabata?" Lelouch said, blinking, before he could help himself.
Naoto grinned and shrugged, his military demeanor fading for a moment. "You called her 'Orihime'. I just went with the theme."
"I still think this sounds crazy," Kallen muttered, just to be contrary.
"Crazy enough to work, maybe," Naoto corrected, and flashed Lelouch a smile. "Let's see what you've got, wonderboy."
Lelouch's stomach churned. "I'll try not to disappoint," he said, forcing a flippant tone into his voice as he turned away. "If you'll excuse me, I need to prepare."
And with that, he left the room.
Only Naoto noticed that Lelouch's hands had begun to shake.
00000
"Things look pretty bad," Milly commented quietly, standing next to the couch. They were in the living quarters of Suzaku's wing of the mansion, with a television set on. The rest of the room was decorated ornately, with a set of worn katanas, said to have been the blades of Miyamoto Musashi himself on one wall, and a long flowing ink painting on the other.
Suzaku remained still as a statue, hands clasped in front of his face, elbows propped up on his knees, expression as dark as a gathering storm as he listened to the newscast.
"No official statement has been released regarding the shocking announcement by Clovis La Brittania, from either the local government or the mainland. Former Prince Schneizel El Brittania could not be reached for comment regarding his younger brother's hostile act against the Empire he himself works for…"
The television continued, droning on and making a high-stakes hostage situation with hundreds of lives at stake seem trivial.
"Cowards," Milly added, shaking her head. "There's ways to go about doing things, and then there's this way."
Suzaku was caught. As Jinchuu, he had already placed his sympathies firmly behind the BLF and their goal of a liberated Brittania. But as a man, could he really stand by and see innocents die? Regardless of their nationality?
Clovis' goals were similar to his own. They were both trying to give Brittania back to the people, in a way. But the methods were utterly polarized.
"What should I do, Milly?" Suzaku asked softly, glancing over at her almost pleadingly. "I know this isn't right, but I also know I can't ever side with the Empire."
"You'll do what you always do, Suzaku-sama," Milly replied softly, offering him a smile.
"And what is that?" he questioned, raising an eyebrow.
"You'll do what's right, of course," she answered, simply.
Suzaku said nothing after that, and only stared at the screen instead.
What's right, huh, he thought to himself, clenching his fists.
His thoughts were interrupted as the phone rang, startling Suzaku, until Milly handed him the phone, a wry smile on her lips.
"Suzaku?"
"Kallen," Suzaku acknowledged, noting the tone of harried worry in her voice.
"I take it you've seen the news," Kallen said somberly.
His fists tightened, knuckles whitening. "Yeah," he said, voice hoarse, "Yeah I have."
Kallen was silent for a few heartbeats, and he knew she was debating telling him something critically important, something probably the military was keeping close to the chest. In the end, whatever it was, she chose not to tell him.
Suzaku didn't begrudge her for that. He was keeping plenty of secrets as it was anyways.
"What's your brother planning?" he questioned instead.
"He's… got a plan. We're getting everything ready right now, but I have nothing to do yet, so I thought I'd call and check up on you," Kallen answered softly. "I knew you'd be taking this hard."
"Thanks," Suzaku murmured, shutting his eyes. She knew him well. And whatever she was keeping from him must also, therefore, be something she believed he honestly didn't need to know right now.
Something important.
His eyes opened, and he stared down at his open palms. He had power. He could make a difference. Save lives.
Even if it meant turning against that power against Brittanians.
Wasn't justice, after all, impartial?
"I'll let you go then," Suzaku said quietly. "Good luck, Kallen."
"Suzaku…" Kallen started, and then fell silent again. "Nevermind. Thank you."
The phone clicked, and Suzaku stared down at it as he moved it from his ear, frowning. She was worried. Deeply worried.
"Things are that bad, huh?" Milly commented, brushing and smoothing out the skirt of her maid outfit as she took the seat next to him.
"Yeah," Suzaku answered, voice rough with tension. "Kallen isn't even talking to me about it."
Milly said nothing for a minute, before she flicked a glance over at him. "So, when are we going to go?"
At Suzaku's look of surprise, she snorted in an unladylike manner and rolled her eyes.
"I haven't-"
"Like there was any doubt," she interrupted, smiling cattily. "Besides, how can there be a pinch without a superhero to save the day?"
Milly stood, and patted him on the shoulder. "I'll make some calls, find us a way to get over there without being spotted. You sit tight and wait till the last minute like a good hero."
"Save the day, huh?" Suzaku muttered to himself, after she had gone. His lips absently turned up into a smile.
Yeah. Maybe that was all the justice this world needed. Someone to save the day, regardless of who needed saving.
00000
Unnoticed by either occupant of the room, however, a pair of lilac eyes watched inquisitively from a crack in the doorway, hearing every word.
00000
Lelouch stepped out onto the observation deck of the Bishamonten, grateful that it was deserted as he took in a slow breath, steadying himself against the wall. His hands were shaking, and he felt sick, desperate for air- but the mask had to stay on.
Right now he was Rei, not Lelouch.
A part of him knew that disassociating this part of himself from the greater whole of his personality might be unhealthy, but on the other hand, he was having a minor panic attack already.
"Are you okay?"
Lelouch's head jerked up and he gazed up into the concerned eyes of Kouzuki Naoto. Flushing beneath the mask, he straightened, and attempted to cover up the shaking in his hands.
"Commander," Lelouch acknowledged quietly. "What are you doing here?"
"Looking for you, actually," Naoto replied, crossing his arms. "And judging by the way you're shaking, it looks like I was right to do so."
"I can handle this," Lelouch said stubbornly, willing his hands to stop.
Naoto sighed, rubbing the back of his head awkwardly as he glanced down at Lelouch- idly, Lelouch realized Naoto was maybe an inch or two taller than himself. Odd, that.
"Look," Naoto began, "I'm fully aware you probably have what it takes to command this operation. But I'm wondering if you're ready to do it.
Lelouch blinked, leaning back against the metal frame of the wall. "What do you mean, ready?" he asked, a slight edge to his tone. "I came here fully prepared to do what I must."
"All the same, you're the one whose hands are shaking," Naoto responded tartly, a note of ice in his voice.
At that, Lelouch flinched, as though struck, and looked away, unable to bear Naoto's piercing gaze.
"Don't feel like talking huh?" Naoto broke off the gaze, and leaned against the wall next to him. "That's alright. I come up here to think too, sometimes."
A minute passed, and then two, then three.
"I'm not afraid," Lelouch began quietly. "I just… don't want people to die because of my mistakes."
"People are going to die no matter how this turns out," Naoto pointed out sensibly, frowning. "You can't take on that kind of responsibility for the role."
"That's not good enough!" Lelouch shot back heatedly. Beneath the mask, his expression was a grimace of true agony as he turned towards Naoto. "I can't accept that people are just going to die. I need to… need to…"
"Save them?" Naoto finished, raising an eyebrow. "Kid, take it from me- you're never going to save everyone. Sooner or later, someone's gonna die. Call it a sacrifice, if you have to."
"It doesn't mean I can't try," came the determined reply, and Lelouch's fists clenched and tightened into white knuckled balls. "It doesn't mean we shouldn't do everything we can to save everyone. No sacrifices. Not now, not ever."
Naoto took a step back, obviously startled by the sheer force of Lelouch's convictions. Unlike other orators he had heard in his time, both on and off the battlefield, the young man before him spoke not in a blaze of passion but in a flowing tide, a quiet but determined river wearing down all in its path.
It was… appealing. Childishly idealistic, but appealing.
A part of Naoto not hardened by his training and experience in the military wanted to accept these words as truth, against his cynical but likely better judgment.
Now wasn't the time for this kind of argument, however. Instead, Naoto changed topics, deciding it was better to get a gleam of knowledge about Lelouch Lamperouge rather than get swept up in a philosophical tide.
"So why the white outfit? I mean, I get that a good performance is a potent weapon, but you couldn't have chosen this outfit out of hand- all of it looks custom made," Naoto commented, leaning back against the opposite wall, giving the outfit a once over.
Once more, Lelouch fell silent, and Naoto wondered if he had touched a nerve.
But, at last, the scion of Brittania spoke. "You know what white signifies in Japan, I assume."
"Death," Naoto answered, and shivered as a chill ran down his spine. Even speaking the word in Japanese was rarely done, and years of cultural indoctrination had not made him immune.
"I am dead to the world, for all intents and purposes, Commander," Lelouch explained calmly, and glanced out the observation deck window, to the airport, where in a short time he would command a battle. "I am a ghost. I desire nothing for myself, save a kind of redemption for sins committed in life. I will not cloak myself in false justice or demagogic lies. I am a sinner, and I do not deserve the world I am trying to build for others."
Naoto frowned, peering over at Lelouch with a pinched look. "You know, for a kid, you've got some pretty deep seated issues, you know that? You don't talk like someone your age should… you talk like an old man who made too many mistakes in his life."
"I'm not old, Naoto-san," Lelouch replied crisply, with a tone of acceptance, "But I have made mistakes."
Naoto placed a hand on Lelouch's shoulder, and met the mask's featureless gaze with a hard look. "No one makes a mistake so bad they can't make up for it," Naoto murmured, and squeezed the younger man's shoulder. "Just learn from them."
They fell into silence after that, and said no more until the door slid open and Naoto pulled away.
"Onii-chan?" Kallen called out, and poked her head into the observation bay. Her features momentarily darkened when she spotted Lelouch in his 'Rei' outfit, before she jerked her head toward her brother. "Can we talk?"
"Of course," Naoto agreed, nodding his head. As he passed Lelouch, he murmured quietly, so that Kallen would not overhear, "Think about what I said."
He clasped Lelouch on the shoulder once, and then left.
00000
"I don't like him," Kallen said flatly, as they stepped out into the hallway.
Naoto's lips quirked and he raised an eyebrow. "The door hasn't even fully shut yet, little sister. Mom taught you better manners than that, I thought."
Kallen kicked her brother in the shin, and he winced.
"I'm serious," she muttered, as they began to walk down the hallway together. "We can't trust him. He's so… infuriating. He's got to have some kind of agenda."
"You let me worry about Rei," Naoto replied quietly, but firmly, though inwardly he continued to wince and howl in pain- Kallen had been wearing steel toed boots.
"Onii-chan, you're too careless with this kind of thing," Kallen complained, crossing her arms as she stepped in front of him, cutting him off from proceeding forward. "You can't just let some freak in a mask take command of our forces."
"The 75th is my unit, not yours, Kallen," Naoto reminded her sharply, setting his mouth in a thin line. "I decide to whom I trust the lives of my men. Not you."
Kallen fell back as if he had struck her, paling in the face of his honest, but harsh reprimand. Sometimes, Naoto deeply regretted working with his sister so closely. Most of the time there was no problem, with their teamwork in sync, but still, in this kind of business emotional entanglements could be dangerous.
"Fine," Kallen bit out finally, scowling. "I'll get to the hangar then. Maybe I can keep some of our people from dying out there, if I can't stop you from getting them killed here."
Naoto scowled right back, ready to snap as he did before, but held his anger in check. Kallen was just afraid for him, and for the men and women under his command. They had been people who she grew up with, who had helped shape her into the young woman she was today.
Losing them would, and had in the past, hurt her deeply.
"Kallen. Trust me," Naoto said quietly. "Believe in me, if you won't believe in him. I believe in him, so you can believe in me."
"Believe in the you that believes in him, huh?" Kallen questioned mirthfully, her eyes sparkling.
"Who the hell do you think we are!" Naoto grinned as he shouted, and held out his fist, which Kallen met with a bump from her own.
"The Kouzuki siblings," Kallen answered firmly, as was their ritual, her grin as wide as his own. "Should I call you 'Aniki' now?"
"We should have named the Amaterasu 'Guren'," Naoto commented casually, crossing his arms behind his head as they resumed walking down the hall. "I think a mecha named Guren fits you, sis."
Kallen wrinkled her nose and scoffed. "Crimson Lotus? Really, Onii-chan? I know I have red hair and all, but it seems a bit much…"
00000
In her mind, Euphemia knew this was a really, really bad idea. Following Milly and Suzaku just seemed wrong to her somehow, especially in light of how much help they had given her.
But on the other hand, she couldn't just sit quietly and wait for them in silence, as she had for the past few weeks.
She needed to know the truth. Whatever they were hiding from her, Euphemia knew, had to be tied up in her past somehow.
She had been watching and waiting for the past two weeks, noting the secret passage Milly and Suzaku used to get into the underground, memorizing the exact turns needed to get them to the cavern where they kept the armored carrier.
Her foreknowledge paid off swiftly as she actually reached the vehicle before both Milly and Suzaku, and, after checking around furtively, she opened the back of the truck with the spare key she'd procured from Suzaku's room.
Euphemia held back a small shudder as she beheld the Caliburn for the second time. Her first few memories were still hazy, but she remembered the golden warrior-machine as clear as day, and even in stillness, it continued to emanate an aura of terrifying wrath. But more than that, any time she pictured it, the boy with the purple eyes came back in her memories, and with it, uncontrollable terror.
Creeping as quietly as she could, she shut the door behind herself and placed herself behind a few small crates stacked in a corner, and began to wait.
It only took a few more minutes before she heard footsteps coming, and the hushed sounds of Milly and Suzaku's voices.
"You're sure you want to come with me, Milly?" Suzaku questioned quietly. "This isn't going to be like the other times- the military is going to be on high alert, not to mention the terrorists…"
"What kind of superhero goes in without his beautiful sidekick?" Milly replied teasingly, the warmth of her chuckle audible even through the steel of the truck. The door opened on the driver's side, and Euphemia heard a ruffling in the seat as Milly moved inside and shut the door. "Besides, I'm the one who found the route to take you close enough to the action without being noticed."
"I'm just saying…" Suzaku said slowly, hesitantly, as he opened his door. "This just doesn't feel like the usual."
"I think it's strange that the 'usual' for you has become fighting the empire you're supposed to rule over someday in a super-powered Knightmare from space or something that you found alongside an amnesiac princess of a fallen nation," Milly said archly, and Euphemia, despite the situation, stifled a giggle. At least she knew for sure that she and this machine- Caliburn- were connected, somehow.
"Just drive," Suzaku muttered irritably, shutting the door.
"Aye aye, captain," Milly replied irreverently.
As the car started up, deep in the back, Euphemia swallowed, throat tight, a flutter of fear in her belly.
00000
Hey,
How've you been? Sorry I haven't been able to get back to you in a few weeks, things have been kinda crazy over here. Work stuff, and all that. My mom sends her love, by the way, and she'll be sending you a care package in a few days once she gets a day off work.
How's everything over on your end, on the continent? You still doing that internship program? I still can't believe you're already working for the Rosenbaum Institute- then again, you were always smarter than me, huh? Remember that time you had to spend a whole day helping me redo my math homework? I still failed the test, but we had a good laugh, huh?
Well, anyways, hopefully you can get a break to visit again- my mom would love to have you over anytime.
From-
His fingers paused over the keyboard as he reached the end of the e-mail, wondering exactly how he was supposed to conclude this electronic post.
"From? Nah, I can't do that, it's too impersonal… regards? What am I, an old man? Love? No, no, I can't write love, she'll misunderstand," Rivalz muttered in consternation, rubbing his forehead as he moved his hands away from the keyboard. "Stupid, stupid… I'm an idiot…"
"Wow, I was wondering when you'd figure that out."
Rivalz jerked away from his computer and toward his bedroom door, where Shirley stood in the doorway, a mischievous grin on her lips, hands clasped behind her back.
"Damn it Shirley, don't sneak up on me like that! And how did you get into my house?" Rivalz demanded, cheeks flushing slightly in embarrassment at being caught talking to himself.
"Your mom let me in as she was leaving for work," Shirley replied casually, peering around his room with a wrinkled nose. "You really need to clean this place up, by the way."
"I can't believe my mom just lets you in like that," Rivalz muttered, frowning. "I mean, yeah, you live next door, but it isn't like she knows you all that well…"
"And I can't believe you're busy writing a love letter with what's happening," Shirley retorted calmly, and flicked a glance at the television on top of his dresser. "Haven't you been watching the news at all? Or are these… cartoons actually that interesting?"
"News is depressing. Cartoons are classic entertainment," Rivalz said defensively, crossing his arms. After a moment, he added, flustered, "And it's not a love letter! I'm just writing an e-mail to a childhood friend who is living abroad, that's all. Just because she's a girl doesn't mean anything."
"Sure it does," Shirley said, smiling widely. "Well, anyways, since you clearly haven't been paying attention…"
She gave him a quick rundown of the situation at the airport. At the end, Rivalz whistled, leaning back into his chair and crossing his arms behind his head.
"Well hell," he muttered. "It's only been a few hours and things have already gone nuts."
"Like I said, it's kind of funny you're here worrying about something like this when something this important is going on," Shirley commented, leaning against his dresser and cocking an amused eyebrow at him. "I wanted to see what you thought of it, but I guess I was being a bit too confident."
"It's not like we can do anything," Rivalz replied calmly, shrugging. "It's a problem for the guys on the other side, not us."
"I guess you're right," Shirley agreed reluctantly, though her expression seemed unusually distracted.
Rivalz frowned, and peered closer over at her. "Are you okay? I haven't seen you since you stormed out of the meeting today. Something happen?"
Shirley avoided his gaze, studying one of the posters on his wall (a blown up image of a vespa scooter, Rivalz's own private enthusiasm) with an absent expression.
"Am I a good person, Rivalz?" she asked quietly.
He blinked, confused. "Uh… yeah, I guess. I mean, you can't really take a joke, but hey, you've stuck your neck out for me before, so…" he trailed off, still trying to puzzle out the meaning behind the question. "Why do you ask?"
Shirley drummed her fingers against the top of the dresser. "It's nothing. Forget I said anything," she said, forcing a laugh. "I'm just being weird, I think."
Rivalz, in a fit of unusual foresight, refrained from making a joke regarding female moodiness. He was quiet for a few moments, and then, without thinking, he said lightly, "Hey, did I ever tell you why I signed up?"
He received no response, so he pressed on.
"I've never really cared about the fall of Brittania," he continued, shrugging as he crossed his arms behind his head, glancing up at the ceiling. "My mom's been working two or three jobs since before the invasion anyway, after my dad left us. Nothing changed for me."
"Then why'd you join up with us?" Shirley questioned, flicking a glance at him with uncertain eyes.
"Things changed for people I knew though," Rivalz replied softly, "Like my friend living overseas… she left the country a couple of years ago on a scholarship deal in the Eurasian Federation. Before that though… she lost her parents, kind of like you… It really messed her up, I think."
He forced a chuckle, which was met with only stony, expectant silence.
"I'm not a hero or anything like that, Shirley," he said casually, meeting her eyes with a knowing expression, "I know I'm never going to be an ace pilot or a commander. But I want to do something to help people."
Shirley snorted, shaking her head.
"I always thought…" she sighed, "I always thought I could justify anything because of my papa. But lately… lately that doesn't seem to be good enough anymore."
Rivalz frowned. He wished he had the right words to say.
"People like General Darlton, or this Jinchuu guy… or even… even…" Shirley bit her lip, "Even a guy like Lelouch seems to have reasons for what they do."
"Just give yourself some time," Rivalz said quietly. "I mean heck, you can't expect to have an epiphany every week about yourself or something. We aren't heroes in a show or anything- we just do what we have to do."
"Do what we have to do, huh?" Shirley murmured, and her expression seemed to change ever so subtly. A trace of humor appeared in her eyes as her lips moved in a tiny, but genuine smile. "You know, Rivalz, sometimes you're smarter than you look."
"Finally, someone notices," he muttered, shaking his head.
00000
Lelouch stepped onto the bridge as the doors swished shut behind him, absently ruffling the white cloak draped over his shoulders.
No one on the bridge paid him any mind, save for Naoto, who flicked his eyes up from the map screen display and offered him a grin.
"How is everything come along?" he asked quietly, stepping closer to the commander.
"The insertion teams have landed at the far end of the airstrip, and the transport planes carrying the other team have an ETA of fifteen minutes," Sancia informed him. "Everything is proceeding according to the schedule."
"To quote one of your country's best writers, 'the readiness is all'," Naoto added calmly, and gave him a sideways glance. "Feeling better?"
Lelouch glanced down at his hands, which remained firm. "Yes," he answered softly. "I think I am."
"Well, alright then." Naoto flashed him a grin. "The bridge is yours, Rei. Let's see what you've got."
Lelouch closed his eyes and took a deep breath, the one just before the plunge. When he opened his eyes, there was no more hesitation, only the light of Geass shining in his left eye.
"Then let's begin Operation: Tanabata."
00000
"Everyone check your corners, and be doubly sure of your targets before you even think of pulling the trigger. There are hostages here, remember that," Kallen instructed quietly, whispering into the communicator into the flexible full-body armor she had donned for the mission. "At least it seems the security loop is holding."
They had just slipped inside the abandoned terminal, which, just as their intelligence had promised, was free of any enemy patrols. A lucky break- their first one, but hopefully not their last.
"You seem tense, Kallen-sama," Lieutenant Inoue, her second in command for this mission, noted quietly, on her left, as she swept the room with her rifle, a standard issue rifle with a silencing suppressor attached. A slender woman with long, blue hair tied back with a red bandana and a gentle face, she seemed more inclined for flowers than gunpowder. But she had a spine of steel that belied her pretty features, and Kallen trusted her to watch her back.
"This is a pretty risky mission," Sergeant Yoshida, on her right, commented, frowning. He was around Inoue's age, with curly brown hair and a bandana matching Inoue's around his head. "I'm pretty tense too, leaving our lives in the hands of a masked madman."
"The Commander trusts him," Inoue replied coolly, giving him a severe look. "And we trust the commander. That should be enough."
Kallen knew it wouldn't be, though. Her stomach kept fluttering as well- there were just so many things that could go wrong with this mission, even on a good day.
And this was definitely not one of those.
"Contact, at the southeast corridor. Five hostiles, and at least a dozen civilians. Looks like we've found one of the hostage groups," reported one of the other members of the team.
"I see them," Kallen said quietly, maneuvering herself around the corner, peeking just around the corner as well.
The terrorists wore olive-green bulletproof vests, were clean cut and each holding carbine rifles. Two of them were chatting idly, but their eyes were constantly sweeping the area- professionals, then. Kallen noted mentally that they were not the standard Kirihara Industries assault rifles her team was carrying.
"Anyone know what they're packing?" she whispered into the microphone.
"Looks familiar. I can't place it, though," Inoue replied softly.
"Well, we'll save it for afterward," Kallen muttered. She peered around the corner again, and readied her rifle. Her hands shook slightly as one of the terrorists turned abruptly to one of his compatriots, leaving a hostage right in her line of sight- an eight year old child crying into his mother's arms.
"Kallen-sama? We have them in our sights. We'll fire on your mark," Inoue reported over a burst of static.
Kallen tried to steady her breath- it failed.
I could miss, she suddenly thought, feeling a cold chill run down her spine. I could kill an innocent child if a single bullet goes wrong.
"Kallen-sama?" the Lieutenant repeated hesitantly.
Her hands shook, and a fluttering of panic swept through her gut-
And then suddenly, it faded, and a sense of absolute serenity took its place, along with a single thought that echoed throughout her head like the voice of a god.
I won't miss.
"I'm taking the shot," she murmured quietly, and adjusted her sights. With a deep, steadying breath, Kallen fired off a single suppressed burst.
The lead terrorist she sighted went down with a choked gasp, and the others barely had time to turn before they too were felled by the rest of her team's silent barrage.
"Move in," Kallen instructed calmly, and stepped into the room at a low crouch, keeping a constant sweep of the room with her rifle up as she moved towards the nearest civilian- the same little boy she feared she would shoot earlier.
"Thank you," sobbed the mother, and took one of Kallen's hands into her own. "Emperor be praised, thank you so much, Kallen-sama."
Kallen glanced down at the crying woman, who had begun shaking her hand gently, keeping her head bowed almost parallel to the floor. Before she could reply, the mother had grabbed her son and pulled him closer to the ground as well in a forced bow.
"Come on, Daisuke, bow," she urged softly. "The Emperor has sent one of his warriors to protect us. There's no need to cry now."
As if her words were a trigger, the other hostages began crowding around her in a hesitant semi-circle, murmuring words of thanks and gratitude, a daring few attempting to touch her hands.
For the first time, Kallen was suddenly struck by how important her office was- how being one of the Swords of the Emperor had a true impact on the people. She had heard of such things before, of course- how during the Oriental War the mere sight of the First Sword, Kamiya Yahiko, was worth more than a force of a thousand men to the tides of battle.
She held the feeling for a moment longer, and then finally turned away, breaking the eye contact with the civilians as she issued further orders to her team.
"Lieutenant, assign two of your men to get those hostages to the rallying point. The rest of us, move on through. We've got more people to save."
As her team rumbled their assent, Kallen felt the certainty harden into real conviction. They could do this. With the grateful faces of the hostages clinging to the back of her mind, she knew they could do it now- that they had to do it.
00000
From the vantage point of a nearby rooftop, a pair of golden eyes opened.
"So he's finally using it," C.C. commented quietly, ignoring the chill wind that suddenly swept the rooftop. "The power of Absolute Will."
She had formed a number of contracts in her lifetime, and seen many different kinds of Geass power. Her last one, before Lelouch, had a seemingly mundane, but ultimately terrifying power that could subvert hearts and minds. She had seen another who had the power to see distant events through the strength of his Geass, and even one who could see the future.
Lelouch's was different. His was not a power that could be used alone- it required others, for it was a Geass of the spirit more than the mind. With it, Lelouch could impress his will upon everyone in an area or an individual. Actual mental compulsion, a sort of Absolute Obedience, was out of the realm of his powers, and in many ways it was far weaker than other powers she had gifted/cursed others with before.
However, he could create courage in the hearts of cowards, or despair in even the most bloodthirsty of men, and with that, a crude technique like forcing a man to do something against will seemed primitive. Battles were not always decided by strength of arms, nor wars won by pure military force. Because men were fighting, and above all else, mankind was ruled by emotion.
Lelouch could convince a group of soldiers to break and be routed, or stir up and strengthen the resolve of a defender to fight with the ferocity of ten men- in short, he could decide the flow of a battle simply by willing it to be that way.
Seasoned generals would drool with envy to possess such a power over the battlefield.
"Let us hope," C.C. whispered, into the wind, "That the power does not hold sway over you as well, Lelouch."
00000
"Kallen-sama's team, designated Hiryu, has found the first hostage group, now designated as Haru-One. Now moving them to the designated fallback point," Sancia reported to the rest of the bridge, holding the communicator in her ear tightly, flicking a glance at Naoto, who in turn glanced at Lelouch.
"Looks like everything's going smoothly so far," Naoto said quietly, letting out a breath he didn't realize he was holding.
"Y-yeah," Lelouch agreed breathlessly, and Naoto fixed him with a more questioning stare.
Moving closer, so that they wouldn't be overheard, Naoto murmured softly, "Are you okay?"
Lelouch nodded, though there was a slight pause in his movements that betrayed him. "I'm fine," he lied, forcing a note of confidence in his voice. "Commanding an operation is just a little more stressful than I thought, that's all."
Naoto looked doubtful, but didn't press the matter, and left Lelouch to his own devices.
Without a conversation to focus on, Lelouch redirected his attention back towards his Geass. He hadn't really been lying to the commander, in a way- commanding was more stressful than he had thought, but it was the strain of using his powers that was really starting to get to him.
The view his Geass gave him of the battlefield was unique- in front of him was the tactical display that gently pulsed with the locations of each of the teams, a physical view of what was going on. But in his mind, he saw past the topography and electronic readings, and saw only the hearts and minds of the people.
He felt a touch of panic rise from Kallen, and swiftly countered it with a wave of confidence, like dousing a flame. The team on the rooftop's confidence wavered, and he was there in an instant, stirring their courage, sharpening their attention so that they wouldn't miss a shot.
As for the terrorists, at least, those whose minds he could feel, he did the opposite. Though most had minds like steel traps, wound tight and ready, he wore at them with subtle waves of sloth and confusion, muddling at their minds, eroding their ability to fight slowly but surely, like the tides breaking down rocks. He couldn't force them to run, or convince them not to check on their incapacitated comrades, but he could slow them down, make them weaker, more vulnerable.
It wasn't much, but it was how his powers could contribute to the battle, even from this distance.
As he passed over the minds of the terrorists, however, he paused as he brushed up against one mind, separated from the others, and moving fast. Unlike the others, it was… brighter. Like comparing a forest fire to a candle, this one burned more fiercely than the rest.
What the hell is that, Lelouch thought worriedly, and attempted to press his will upon the unusual mind- and was pushed back by the sheer force of will burning within.
That alone was troubling enough- what was worse was that this lone mind was headed straight for Kallen's group.
"That… cannot be good," he muttered under his breath, and quickly hit the communicator button on the console. "Hiryu, do you read me? There's something heading your way."
"Hiryu here. No signs of hostiles detected. Please don't waste our time, HQ," came Kallen's icy reply.
"Damn it, Kallen-sama," Lelouch hissed softly, "I am not your enemy. There is something with you in that room."
"Still no contact. And how are you even getting this information, HQ-" Kallen began suspiciously, when suddenly a cluttering sound, like metal against the tiles, was heard. "Hold on, I think I might have got something. Moving to check it out."
"Wait, maybe you should get some backup, Hiryu," Lelouch said cautiously, feeling a tremor of trepidation in his gut.
"It looks like it was just the wind, HQ. Nothing at all to be-"
Whatever else Kallen was about to say was cut off as a low, inhuman growl was heard through the connection, followed swiftly by a the line going dead.
"Kallen-sama?" Lelouch said slowly, a note of urgent concern in his voice. "Kallen-sama, please respond… damn it, Kallen! Respond!"
00000
Even if she had been inclined to, Kallen wouldn't have been able to respond, considering the scarred, calloused hands currently wrapped around her throat.
The man had come out of nowhere, and at first, she honestly hadn't believed him to be a man, but some kind of large animal that had gotten onto the premises, judging from the loping, predatory gait and hunched, almost four-legged crouch he had been in. He had remained perfectly still too… up until she got too close, and then he sprang into motion, and started trying to strangle her.
His face was the most terrifying thing- unshaven, sunken, gaunt, with bloodshot eyes that gave the impression of a possessed corpse rather than a living being. The only thing out of place in that moment was his scent- sickeningly sweet, like an almost poisonous amount of sugar in the air. And that, in addition to everything else, made the man's appearance just that much more frightening.
Still, Kallen wasn't the Seventh Sword for nothing- even without the Amaterasu, she was a fighter.
As her vision began to fill with black spots, spurred on by desperate adrenaline, Kallen swung her elbow, bashing the man in the face once, twice, three times, sending his head snapping back from the force. By the third, the grip loosened enough for Kallen to break free, and deliver a powerful headbutt to the man's nose.
Her attacker fell back, blood dripping everywhere, including some on her suit as he staggered backwards, momentarily stunned.
Kallen, meanwhile, found her gun, and leveled it at the man. "Look," she said hoarsely, panting slightly, "Surrender, alright? I've got a gun, you don't. So just…"
She trailed off, as the man suddenly righted, as though all the blows he had just taken meant nothing. His eyes remained clear and conscious even through their bloodshot nature, filled with a gleam of utter madness.
And with another guttural snarl, the man lunged for her again.
Swiftly, Kallen raised her rifle and fired two rounds, aiming for the man's knees- when her attacker abruptly changed directions, reacting in time with her adjustments in aiming, allowing him to dodge the bullets by the barest amount necessary, and then swiftly slam into her.
That wasn't human, she thought disbelievingly, as she rolled with the impact of the blow, using her training to compensate for her opponent's inhuman ferocity. Kallen sprang to her feet, hands in a ready position- her rifle had been lost in the melee.
Her opponent was strong, but kept attacking like a complete maniac, without any kind of finesse.
If she could just time it right…
Her thoughts were interrupted as the man sprang for her again, moving in the same loping, mindless pattern as before. This time, Kallen lashed out as the man sprang for her, striking fast with a sweeping kick-
Which was blocked with that same kind of inhuman reaction time as before. However, the force of her strike was enough to divert her attacker's lunge, and the man was forced to roll away.
Still, Kallen was spooked. That was twice now the man had reacted with impossible speed- the kick she threw at him just now had floored even Suzaku once or twice.
She didn't believe in coincidences- whoever this man was, he was not normal.
Once more, with an animalistic growl, he charged her again. Kallen struck out in a series of cobra-quick strikes, her hands a blur of violent movement- her opponent dodged them all.
He's getting used to my movements, Kallen thought in horrified wonderment. And he's… he's reacting even faster to them.
The thought must have slowed down her last strike, or given it less power than before, because her blow was caught by her opponent, who gripped her elbow tight and yanked her close with brutal force.
That sickeningly sweet smell was back, just as overpowering as it was before, and Kallen choked slightly. She struggled for a bit before she finally broke the hold, just in time to hear a low shout from behind the man.
"Kallen-sama! Get down!"
She complied immediately, moving to the ground an instant before the cough of suppressed weapons filled the room, and the man went down in a spray of blood.
The sound of quiet footsteps filled the silence of the aftermath, and Lieutenant Inoue's concerned face appeared in her view. "Are you okay, Kallen-sama?" she asked concernedly.
Kallen's eyes remained fixed on the corpse of her attacker, and she frowned.
"There's something wrong here, Lieutenant," Kallen said quietly. "Something we didn't know about."
Something bad.
00000
"You know, if I were one to give into clichés," Luciano began pointedly, absently playing with a small switchblade in his hands, "I'd say things are a little too quiet."
They were in the control tower of the airport, which they had more or less converted into their headquarters for the duration of the operation. The tower operator and the other previous inhabitants were either lying in a pool of their own blood on the floor or tied up together and gagged in the corner.
Clovis gave him an irritated look as he paced the length of the room, frowning. "Why do you say that? The security room reports no intruders, and there's been no sign of any intrusion by the military."
"Exactly," Luciano agreed, waving his switchblade in a mock salute, "Doesn't it seem weird to you that the Japanese military would just let this slide so far?"
"We've got them where we want them," Clovis replied with a sneer. "Unless you're starting to get nervous, Bradley."
"In my line of work, confidence only gets you so far," came the casual, devil-may-care reply, accompanied by a vicious grin. "I think I'm going to take a look around. Tour the front myself, so to speak."
"Don't talk like a real soldier," Clovis said mockingly, curling his lip in disgust. "You haven't been one for years."
"But I've killed men on the battlefield plenty of times since then," Luciano responded easily, "And I know when something smells wrong."
And with that, he stood up, and strode towards the door, Marika following in his wake. As they exited the control tower, Marika spoke.
"My lord. I'm sorry to say this, but one of the subjects escaped our handler's custody a few minutes ago," she reported softly.
Luciano whistled as they turned the corner down the long, stainless steel hallway. "Well, that'll be interesting. The rest are still accounted for, I trust?"
Marika nodded. "We still have the other subjects- what's more, the one we lost was actually responding the weakest to the new dosage. We thought he would need less sedative as a result."
"No harm, no foul," he replied, shrugging nonchalantly. "Any word on where our little escapee ran off to?"
"None yet sir. We don't exactly have a lot of manpower to look for him," Marika reminded him. "But I do have a spot of good news. The package is ready. It's just down the corridor, actually."
Luciano's demonic grin was back, and he rubbed his hands eagerly in anticipation as they made their way down the corridor, to a door where two armed men stood at rapt attention. Luciano gave him a mock, casual salute, and then passed through without a word.
As he entered the room, Luciano shivered slightly. It was a simple storage room, normally filled with paper clips and paper and all sorts of office supplies. The shelves on the walls were still practically overflowing with the stuff, but they had made enough room at the back to place a single opened wooden crate.
"Madd's outdone himself," he said cheerfully, stepping closer to the opened crate in the center of the room. He whistled appreciatively. "I'll have to send him my compliments."
"The timer is set for just after the three hour mark," Marika said briskly, standing at the back of the room. "There should be enough time for you, myself, and the rest of our key personnel to escape the blast radius."
"And we're sure it'll level the entire complex? We can't really leave any traces, just in case," Luciano warned her, his normally manically jovial tone somewhat subdued. "Boss man's orders. We brought this in because we knew the bombs we would show our little prince were mostly for show, after all." "
"It will do its job, sir," she assured him. "The strength of this Sakuradite is particularly powerful, and very well refined. And unlike the bombs that idiot Clovis had our men planting around the building, this device is set to go off regardless of the outcome. Everyone will simply blame Clovis for double crossing the Japanese, and we walk away from this as complete unknowns."
There was a moment of silence, followed by another whistle.
"Marika, I gotta say, you are one cold bitch," Luciano said gleefully, flashing her a grin, "And damn, I do like it."
"I try, sir."
Luciano glanced one more time at the digital timer attached to the Sakuradite bomb quietly beeped away the countdown to destruction for every single person in the airport, and smiled.
"God, I love my job."
Author's Notes
If I have to explain what the first scene is from, then a) I'm getting old and b)you need to listen to the classics.
One thing I've tried very hard to portray in this chapter is a key difference between IHTW!Lelouch and canon!Lelouch- confidence. Where Lelouch in canon was able to control his nerves and keep himself steady (such as the Zero Requiem), in this universe Lelouch's confidence is far shakier, and less likely to control himself in the face of emotional turmoil.
I used a lot of battlefield psychology stuff I've seen in textbooks and drew a lot more from games like Warhammer and Warhammer 40k which require a lot of morale boosts to keep soldiers in line (I play Lizardmen and IG, respectively, btw), to develop Lelouch's new Geass.