(Here's my update, and there's a cute little scene in here... although I wrote it, so--of course--something has to go wrong. Anywho, hope you guys enjoy this one! The cliffhanger is actually in the MIDDLE of the chapter this time! lol!)
Chapter 18
"Don't look so surprised." Tilea absent-mindedly twirled her pistol around her index finger as she walked across the room toward Ares, keeping her gaze on the von Karmas. "After forty years of prosecuting kidnappers, murderers, and whatnot, you should have known that it was only a matter of time. Besides…" She stopped walking and turned to face him again, now standing only a few feet from her partner. "…you made this ridiculously easy, you know?"
Manfred was finding it impossible to compose himself. "Who are you?" he snarled, at a loss for how two teenagers had managed to pin him in a corner.
"Phoenix Tilea." She thrust her spinning gun about three feet in the air and caught it in her hand again to hold it correctly. "Head of field ops. for the Federal Borough of Investigation in Los Angelus, California."
"Ares Taylor." Tossing his own gun from hand to hand and making it spin while in the air. "On-site tactical leader for the Federal Borough of Investigation in Los Angelus, California."
"You're… You're bluffing!" Teenagers in the FBI!? It was ludicrous, unheard of!
"You just go ahead and keep on believing that," Ares said with his own smirk to match Tilea's. "It makes our job a hell of a lot easier." He let his gun come to rest and threw his head back to get his bangs out of his eyes. "Now the only question is: are you going to come quietly?"
At first, Manfred prepared for a fight, but then a look of relieved realization crossed his face, followed by a soft laugh. "You can't touch me," he said, his laughter growing louder and more confident.
"Try us," came Phoenix's low and dangerous hiss, her gun now pointed directly between his eyes.
"You are employees of the American government," he explained, that arrogant and haughty expression fixed on his twisted visage. "I am a citizen of Germany. While in my own country, Du kannst mich nicht berühren."
Franziska put a hand to her mouth, unseen by any of them for she still sat on the floor behind her father. He was right; police and government agents were not aloud to simply chase a criminal into another country and apprehend them, especially if that person is a citizen of said country. The German government would have to be the ones to capture him and opt to send him back to the American prison he had escaped from, and by that time he would probably have the mind and means to flee.
…Unless…
Tilea's laughter suddenly silenced von Karma's. "I beg your pardon, Mr. von Karma, but we are professionals." She sounded offended, but it was simply to mock his ignorance.
"It's been over two months since you escaped," Ares stated. "The FBI has had more than enough time to reach an agreement with the German government. Both the FBI and CIA were given permission to investigate under probable cause, and should our investigation yield conclusive proof, we could apprehend you."
"And you let me right in," Tilea finished, laughing as she spoke.
With his final option extinguished, von Karma lost what professional composure he might have had left. His fists were clenched and his teeth were bared, ready for a fight. "You'll never take me alive!"
"I can live with that." Ares and Phoenix cocked their guns simultaneously, but the blast that followed was not initiated by either of them.
Ares landed hard on his back about five feet from where he had just been standing as two shouts rang almost as loud as the gun blast, one his name and the other a simple sheik of terror. His hands clasped over his chest as he struggled for air, billions of white stars erupting before his eyes. Around him, an explosion of noise and confusion, more gun blasts and screams. When his vision cleared, it was to see a man fall from the stairs, shotgun landing at his side.
"Nice shot, Detective!"
A second look told him that another man was now standing on the stairs, a thick metal bar in one hand. Ares silently thanked Luck for excellent timing and the progression of science for bulletproof vests and began his struggle to rise.
He didn't get too far. There was another shout and suddenly his senses reeled, vision and hearing obscured in dark silence as his own heart beat and staggering breath came to his attention. His consciousness swayed threateningly, and then it all came back into focus along with a wave of overpowering pain sourced from the back of his head.
"Anybody moves and I'll splatter him!"
Ares became aware that he was once again lying on the floor, but this time with his head and upper back against a wall. A strong hand pushed against his bruised chest and something cold and hard was pressed painfully into his forehead. His gray eyes moved slowly upward and observed Manfred von Karma's bony hand gripping his dropped pistol.
Ares knew better than to fight in this position; one wrong move and he'd be dead before he could even consider what he had done. He simply lay still, doing his best to void his expression of any emotion, especially fear. This was where his fate was left to those around him. As a friend, Tilea would do all she could to save his life as always, but as an agent…
…She was supposed to let him die.
oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
"Miles, hurry! We're going to be late!"
"Just hang on! I'm almost finished!"
Nine-year-old Phoenix Wright frowned and began stomping up the wooden stairs leading onto Gregory Edgeworth's back porch where his son—and Phoenix's best friend—sat at a circular glass table beneath the shade of its umbrella, scribbling hurriedly on a piece of paper. With his hands deep in the pockets of his shorts, Phoenix came to stand directly behind Miles' chair, glaring down at what was beginning to look like a novel to him. "How can you be doing homework today?" It was beautiful out! A perfect seventy-two degrees with a gentle wind, a comfortable humidity level, and no clouds to speak of, yet all Miles wanted to do was homework! It was unfathomable to his less-studious companion.
"Because interim reports come out next week and I want to have a good grade," Miles replied without slowing in his writing. "I bet you haven't even started on it."
Phoenix averted his eyes and his frown deepened, signifying that this was indeed the case. "It's not due until Tuesday," he retorted. "Seriously, why would anyone want to write a paper on a Saturday just before we're supposed to go to the water park?!"
"I do!" Miles snapped back, this time whipping his head around for only a second to glare at his persistent friend before turning back to his work.
Phoenix was about to keep arguing with him when he heard the screen door behind him slide open. He whirled around to see Gregory Edgeworth coming out of the house, sweat pouring from his brow. He had been mowing the front lawn when Phoenix had arrived and was finished now, coming out from a quick rest and re-hydration in the air conditioning.
"Hello, Mr. Edgeworth," Phoenix greeted him.
"Hey there, Mr. Wright," Gregory smiled, extending his hand to the child.
"I'm not a Mister," Phoenix laughed, though he accepted the handshake.
"You two almost ready to go?" the man inquired, his gaze falling on his silent and hunched son.
"I am," Phoenix answered, and then he to was looking at Miles. "But Miles insists on doing homework." He emphasized the word 'insists', proud to have been able to use it in a sentence, for it was one of their vocabulary words the previous week and he always liked to prove to Miles that he was indeed learning something despite what the other boy might think.
"I'm almost done," Miles groaned in pure annoyance, his nose only an inch from the lined notebook paper, which he was now writing halfway down the back of. "I just have to finish the conclusion."
With a soft chuckle, Gregory strode over and took a seat in one of the three vacant chairs at the table, leaning back to watch his son as Phoenix continued to rant in the background.
"You know, you're going to turn in the longest paper in fourth-grade history! Ms. Anderson will probably get so bored that she won't even want to read it all and you'll get an F for doing a hundred times as much work as you were supposed to."
Neither of the Edgeworths were really paying him any attention now. Miles was doing all he could to shut him out and finish while his train of thought was still on the tracks, and Gregory was now leaning forward a bit to read his son's work upside down.
About five more minutes passed—by which point Phoenix had taken to running around the back yard with the Edgeworths' dog—Miles sat back in his chair and stretched with a loud groan, reminiscent of the way his father would after long hours of poring over case files. His mechanical pencil lay diagonally across the paper, which bore about twenty lines of small writing, the second half of the essay, which began on the other side of the page. "All finished," he announced, closing his eyes and massaging them gently with the index and middle finger of each hand.
"It's about time!" Phoenix called from the yard, the excited Shiba Inu following him all the way back up onto the porch, not ready for their game of Chase to end.
Gregory stood and pushed his chair in, taking his glasses off to wipe away some of the moisture from his face with his gray T-shirt. "Are we picking up Larry?" he asked.
Miles nodded, but Phoenix took it upon himself to say something. "Uh-huh, and he'll be wondering why we're so late. I'll have to tell him it's because Miles was too busy being a nerd!"
Miles simply ignored him, turning to go inside and get ready to go. When he stepped over the threshold, he turned back and put two fingers to his lips, giving a short whistle. "Pess, come on, boy!"
The small dog that had been jumping up at Phoenix, desperately trying to get his attention, now turned and bounded over to follow Miles inside with the hopes of some fresh water and maybe a crunch bone-shaped snack.
Ten minutes later Miles was strapped in the passenger seat of his father's BMW and Phoenix sat in the back where—a short ride later—Larry joined him. Of course, Phoenix had to dramatically recount the events that led to their late arrival and Miles was forced to endure Larry adding the name 'Nerd' to every sentence directed at him. That was until Gregory got annoyed.
"Boys, please behave yourselves. You're not going to argue about this the whole time we're out." Though his voice was kind, it commanded a certain amount of respect that caused the children to obey without further protest. The rest of the drive went on with discussions about school, Larry's latest detention, and bets on how many times they could ride the Kraken—the park's largest rollercoaster—without throwing up. Gregory had to discourage this conversation, however, by informing them that they were all too short to be allowed on that ride.
When they arrived, excitement ran rampant.
"Let's go on the water slide first!"
"No way, Nick! I wanna' go in the wave pool!"
"Guys, they have funnel cake!"
"Food! Yeah!"
"Hang on there, boys." They all halted at the sound of Gregory's powerful voice, and when they looked back, he smiled. "We have to get wrist bands first or they won't let you on anything."
"Oh yeah…"
They all agreed on eating first, which resulted in their inability to go in the wave pool for about a half-hour or so, thus they went with Phoenix's idea to be shot out of colorful plastic tubes into 3-foot deep water, nearly colliding with one another as they refused to heed the warnings of the adults running the amusement that stated they should wait. Gregory watched from the edge of the landing pool, smiling in amusement at the children's antics. He wasn't too concerned about their apparent recklessness. They were young boys. They were made of rubber.
Finally, a few rollercoasters later, they made it to the wave pool. To their elation, it wasn't jam-packed with people like it so often was, giving them room to swim and allowing for bigger waves.
"I don't want you boys going too far out!" Gregory called as the three of them ran flat out into the shallow end of the pool to make their way deeper.
"Okay, Dad!" Miles called back, oblivious to whether the other two had even paid his father any mind at all. As soon as they got waste-deep in the warm water, a wave was generated, knocking them all backward under the water. They all came up spluttering, but laughing all the same.
"Hey, Nick, I bet I can keep from falling over on the next wave!"
"Yeah right, Larry! I could totally stand up longer than you!"
"OBJECTION!" Miles shouter, extending his left arm and pointing a finger at them. "I'm a green belt in martial arts! If anyone can stand up against the waves, it's me!"
Gregory couldn't help but laugh as he beamed with pride for his son. Only nine years old and he was already pointing that finger and presenting an argument backed with strong supporting details. Now, all he had to do was prove it.
"Okay, Edgey, you're on!" Larry made a similar gesture, extending his arm and pointing, but it didn't quite have the same effect.
So, the three boys made their way back into waist-deep water to await the next rush of water. Miles took a stance similar to what he had been taught during his martial arts lessons; a wide stance made for better balance and resistance, although water wasn't normally a factor in the dojo and the boy was a bit too young to really understand all the laws of physics. Still, he was better prepared than his more childish friends, who were busy trying to trip each other up before the wave even came.
At last the next wave was generated, and sure enough Phoenix and Larry were too busy wrestling to put up a fight. Miles leaned forward and took the water full in the face, but he remained standing as it rushed past him. That was, until the other two collided with him.
He fell backward and hit the bottom of the pool, too startled to even get a breath of air before going under. Dazed, he was unable to fight the reverse current running along the concrete floor created as the water above rushed to one end of the pool and pushed the rest of it back the other way. He slid down the sloping ground toward deeper water, too shocked and panicked to even realize what was happening and to remember which way was up.
Meanwhile, Phoenix and Larry both surfaced, laughing and coughing in the aftermath of the wave, and they didn't even notice that their friend did not come up with them until they heard Gregory's voice over all the rest of the laughter and joyous shouts all around them.
"MILES!"
Immediately, Phoenix began to look around and realized Miles wasn't there. "Miles!" he echoed looking around some more. It wasn't long before he looked down to see his friend struggling quite a few yards away beneath the still-sloshing water. "Miles is drowning!"
A large splash nearby threw water into the two boys' faces as Phoenix lunged forward as well, seeing Gregory—still fully-clothed—diving beneath to try and reach his son.
By this time, Miles had begun to thrash more wildly and was moving along the bottom away from his father, though not intentionally. At the same time, Phoenix had gone under and was now reaching for him. Miles couldn't see him, so he had to make a grab for the first part of his friend he could reach, which happened to be his hair. Phoenix seized the silver locks tightly, not even considering what kind of pain this might cause in the moment of panic. He began to pull, trying to swim upward, and felt Miles' fingers close around his wrist.
Just as Phoenix realized he couldn't swim while holding his friend's weight, he felt two hands close around his ankle and drag him backward. He was pulled back until his head rose above the water, and as he gasped for breath he pulled Miles upward with Larry's help.
As soon as Miles appeared, an arm shot between him and the other two, and he was lifted into his father's arms crying and coughing up water. Gregory was speaking quickly in between heavy breaths, trying to comfort his son as he firmly patted his back with an open hand, trying to help coax the liquid out of his lungs.
This little fiasco had captured the attention of the rest of the area's occupants, and they were now cheering and applauding the rescue, else shouting their concerned questions. "Is he okay!?" "Do you want me to call the hospital!?" "I've always said these things are too dangerous!"
Phoenix and Larry just watched Gregory cradle his son, out of breath and at a loss for what to say or do. They both knew that their horseplay had been partly responsible for this, but neither had the courage to say anything out loud.
Something glinted in the corner of Phoenix's eye and he turned to see Gregory's glasses floating to the bottom of the pool. Without even really thinking about it, he took in a deep breath and dived to retrieve them; at least he could be of some help instead of just standing there dumbfounded. He came back with the glasses and approached Gregory, who was still standing knee-deep in the water in soaking wet clothes, his wallet still miraculously in his back pocket though its contents were thoroughly soaked.
"H-here you go, Mr. Edgeworth…"
Gregory looked down at the blue-eyed boy looking up at him holding the glasses out. "Thank you… Phoenix…" he mumbled, too shaken to show his proper gratitude. He placed the glasses on his head, having nothing to dry them off with at the moment.
Just then, a voice penetrated the realm of existence, an unnaturally loud voice that didn't seem to belong at all.
"Edgeworth?!"
The bright sunny day and the wave pool began to fade into darkness, and the voice came again, clearer and more real this time.
"Edgeworth?! Edgeworth, are you okay?!"
Miles' eyes flew open and he realized that he was coughing, hard. It hurt, and he took in a sudden deep breath, which he choked on and coughed some more.
"Holy crap! Edgeworth!" Phoenix slid an arm under the other man's back and pushed him up carefully toward a sitting position. This hurt too, but it made it easier to breath without choking. Phoenix kept him upright until his breathing regulated again, and then let him back down to a less painful position. "You okay?"
Miles lay still, mouth hanging open as he took deep, shaky breaths. "I… I was…"
"You scared me," Phoenix said, wiping sweat from his forehead. "I thought you were having a seizure or a heart-attack or something at first, and then you started…"
"I… I was… drowning…"
"Huh?" Phoenix brought his forearm away from his head and blinked at the other man. "Drowning? What—"
"Th-the pool… I was… drowning and… and…" He stopped, recalling what he had just experienced. "It was like… a story."
"…I have no idea what you're talking about." Well, honesty wasn't always the best policy, but Wright had no idea what else to say here. Edgeworth wasn't making any sense at all.
"I was… little, and you… you were there… and you were little too…" He paused to make another attempt at catching his breath. "..And… there was another boy too… L-Larry…"
"Larry… Ohhhh…" Edgeworth had been dreaming about their childhood, most likely a result of his 'bedtime story'.
"We were… all outside and… in the water and… I… I was… drowning…" He certainly looked like he had just nearly drown; he still wasn't breathing steadily and he was deathly pale… or more so than before anyway.
"Drowning?" 'When did that hap—Oh yeah!' With a lurch, Phoenix remembered the scene all-too-well: the challenge they had made, his and Larry's roughhousing, and then the frantic struggle to rescue Miles from the bottom of the rocking pool.
"M-my dad… He was… he was there and… Wh-why isn't m-my dad here too?" He was suddenly looking at Phoenix with a desperate longing, wanting the answer to this question that had just popped into his head so unexpectedly.
"Uh…" Now what was he supposed to do? Miles didn't remember any of it; he only could recall what he had just seen. How was Phoenix supposed to look at him lying there like that and tell him his father had been dead for 17 years, especially since his friend practically had the mind of a child at this point.
"Phoenix, I want to know where… where my father is. Please…"
Phoenix. He was calling him Phoenix now. The only memory he had was that day at the water park when they were nine years old, and it had overridden everything from before he had fallen asleep. "Edgeworth…" He had no idea what to say. "Your father is… He's… not here…"
"But where is he?" There were tears in his eyes now; he was panicking for a reason Phoenix could not ascertain. "I… I want my father… Where is he…?"
"Edgeworth…" Wright moved forward and, hesitantly, slid his arm behind the man's shoulders once again. "Please, calm down, okay. You're safe right now."
"B-but…" He was now shaking with sobs as he gripped Wright's arm tightly. "I-it hurts… I… I want my father…"
Wright just knelt there, keeping his arm still as Miles cried into his jacket. This all felt so wrong; this should not be happening. He felt uncomfortable to say the least, but at the same time he couldn't bear to just stand back and watch his friend suffer. This was all he knew to do. He could not tell Miles that Gregory was dead; he didn't have it in him, and at the same time he didn't want to lie to him. So, it was best to just say nothing, to dance around the subject and hope his friend would give up the search at least until things calmed down.
He sighed and looked down at where the small radio they had given him was tucked in a chest pocket of his suit jacket. He hadn't heard anything from any of them since Gumshoe had left, and he could only pray that things were going all right. They had instructed him to wait here, as a final defense should the battle come this far. He didn't want to see it get this far, for that would mean the others had failed and possibly been killed. He shuddered at the thought of it, and he felt Miles shift a bit on his arm.
"When can we go home?"
"When everybody comes back."
"…When will that be?"
Wright sighed and placed his forehead on the edge of the bed wearily. "I don't know…"