(The chapter right before the climax! WOOT! Sorry it took so long, by the way; I got an idea for a new story and I've been really distracted with it, but I know I need to keep this one up first priority. So anyway, enjoy!)
Chapter 19
"Put your gun down and get against the wall!" Manfred von Karma's face was red with fury and his hands trembled, but he did not allow his hold on the young man to weaken.
"You really don't get it, do you, Mr. von Karma?" It was taking everything she had to keep her hand and her expression steady. If it hadn't been for all of those years of training, she would have discarded the pistol immediately and backed off, anything to save her best friend's life. Her only hope now was to outlast the old man, make him think there was no way to break her, make him think that killing Ares would not solve anything.
"She's not going to let you go to save me," came Ares' emotionless voice from below him. "The job is about the unconditional success of the mission. If it comes to that point… I'm expendable."
"Be quiet, Boy!" The barrel of the gun was now digging into the center of his throat and he was forced the rest of the way down to the floor. A violent jolt surged through him as he choked, and his hands moved instinctively to von Karma's wrist to try and remove the pressure now crushing his windpipe. His teeth gritted as he strained and his face paled beyond its usual lack of color.
Watching her friend writhe and struggle was not something Tilea had ever been able to handle, only this time it wasn't so simple to just protect him. She couldn't hide her anger now, taking fierce, heavy breaths through bared fangs. The hand that gripped her pistol shook and she cursed her own vulnerability.
Tilea jumped slightly as she heard a small gasp from the other side of the room. She looked sideways and saw Franziska staring at the door in horror, and a glance in that direction revealed five men with guns descending the stairs. As they watched, Gumshoe began to back away, for he had been standing at the bottom of the steps and did not wish to be near these men. However, they were now trapped and severely outnumbered considering Tilea and Gumshoe were the only ones carrying weapons.
Franziska began to look around frantically, desperate to find anything of use to them, but instead she found that the situation was about to get much worse. "Tilea, put the gun down!" she choked, covering her face with her hands. She didn't know what was in that needle, but if it was in her father's hand it wasn't good.
From where she stood, Phoenix could not see von Karma's free hand. However, she could see something else that made her nearly release her weapon that Franziska could not see.
Ares was no longer trying to push the gun away. To the contrary, his right hand was now over the hand with which Manfred held the gun. It was difficult to see from a distance in the dark, but Tilea knew what he was trying to do simply because he had gone through the same training as she had, and one key point that had been stressed several times:
"Death is better than failure." He was going to force von Karma to kill him, taking away the man's leverage and allowing Phoenix to get her shot in. Unfortunately, he could not see the others that had entered the room.
"Ares, don't!"
Ares' hand stiffened, but it wasn't her shout that had stopped him. A sharp, stabbing pain had made its presence known in the side of his neck, and an uncontrollable terror had seized the young man in the few moments of anticipation. This was it: he knew what was about to happen to him, what he was about to be reduced to, and he could only wish he had dislodged that bullet in time.
Von Karma drew back the gun to allow the terrible scream to escape his captive's throat. Another scream joined it momentarily, though it was muffled as Franziska still had her face covered. This was a nightmare; she had no idea what was happening to him, but she had never in her life heard anything so terrifying. It wasn't like in the movies when characters were being tortured or dying in some horribly graphic way. She had never been a fan of those, but she could watch them without flinching. This… just the sound of his scream was too real; she didn't even have to look over at him to feel faint.
Tilea, on the other hand, was silent, staring in frozen horror at what was happening to her best friend. Once before had she seen it—though it hadn't been quite this bad—and she knew that it had happened one time before that, though she hadn't been present at the time. Yes, she had recently watched it happen to Miles, but… there was so much more desperation and anguish in Ares' reaction that she too felt as if she could simply black out at the sight of this. The boy's eyes were squeezed shut and he writhed in his captor's grasp, all regards for stoicism suddenly nonexistent. Phoenix herself had even forgotten about the gun she held.
"S-stop! Please!" Tears were streaming down his pale face, and with a lurch Phoenix realized that something was terribly wrong. Even in this much pain, Ares would not beg like this unless he was not in control of himself. Sure, he probably could not have stopped the scream, but that needle had only gone in once and the torture had only just begun. He should not have been broken so easily.
"Please! I-I'm… I'm s-sorry! I… I never meant for anyone to… to find out… Please…"
He was no longer in Germany, no longer in the dark basement of von Karma's hiding place for the past two months. He was no longer nineteen years old, no longer an agent of the FBI. Age fifteen and completely helpless, Ares lay on the wooden floor of the house that belonged to his father, who had recently been arrested for attempting to kill him. Now, four men were surrounding the boy, one pinning him in place with one hand and holding the needle with the other while the rest cheered him on. Punishment for sending his father—a member of their 'organization'—to prison. Punishment for being rescued. Punishment for not keeping his mouth shut and his head down.
Meanwhile, outside of Ares' troubled mind, Tilea released her gun, unable to stand this sight any longer. She knew what was going on now, and memories of finding him after their brutal torment, bleeding and covered in gasoline, were flashing before her mind's eye. "All right!" she roared over her friend's cries. "Just stop this! Let him go!"
Silence fell over the room's inhabitants save for the sobs of Ares and Franziska. Von Karma turned his head to look sideways at Tilea with a pleased grin. "Pathetic," he hissed. "It was easy to see just by looking at this boy that he is nothing but a frightened and weak child. And as for you, Phoenix…" He spat her name as if it tasted bitter on his tongue. "…You gave yourself away. Miles Edgeworth mentioned your name as his caretaker, which means you have compassion for those who are suffering. This boy is not your partner; he follows you for protection, and you cannot bear not being able to give him that protection." He paused, drawing Ares' head back and sliding the point of the needle up his bruised throat. "Am I correct?"
"For how long have you been insane, Manfred von Karma?" It was taking every ounce of self-control she possessed to stop herself from losing that self-control altogether. "Most would argue that your time in prison has driven you over the edge, and I will agree that said time is a factor. However, according to everything I know about you, you've been unstable for a good many years."
"Insane?" Manfred just laughed. "I am in perfect control! Everything I've done has been of my own design!"
Tilea closed her eyes and shook her head slowly. "I don't think that's true," she stated, before opening her eyes again. "I don't think murdering Gregory Edgeworth was planned at all."
Manfred stood, partially blocking Ares from view. The boy was not moving; he was still completely unaware of where he really was. "Perhaps not, but all the events that occurred afterward were—"
"—of the design of a madman," Tilea finished for him. "I had always found it astonishing that Franziska lived past her infancy in your care, or lack thereof. However, though you may have been ruthless in court and cold-hearted, you were not sadistic and violent before you murdered a man for no real reason. Only a madman would take in the child of his victim and raise him for the soul purpose of crushing him in humiliating defeat after he had become a success, which you would take all the credit for. Your anger and hatred is infantile! The level of revenge you have taken against Gregory Edgeworth far exceeds any damage he could have ever done to you!"
"What are you, my psychiatrist? Get against the wall! All of you!" He had no retort for this, because she was right and he knew it. He would escape; he would not dare admit her ability to get into his head. It was infuriating and almost frightening. This girl had no right to think him evil; what kind of magick was she working?!
Not allowing any sort of defeat to cross her expression, Tilea backed up a few steps until she stood with her back against the wall. Gumshoe also scrambled to a wall, but Franziska didn't move. She stayed where she was on the floor beside the support beam, though it didn't seem she was about to try and stop him. All three of them were at gunpoint from one of the men that had come to von Karma's aid.
Manfred grabbed hold of the shaking boy and pulled him up from the ground, dragging him along, the barrel of the gun still aimed at his head, and headed past everyone and began his ascent. However, before he got too far, he turned to look back down at his men. "Kill them all."
He turned his back as an explosion of gun blasts and shouts sounded behind him. He moved quickly up the stairs, and when he reached the top, he turned and cocked the pistol once more, preparing to eliminate the hostage he no longer needed.
It all happened in a matter of a second: Ares' eyes flew open at the sound and his mind returned to him. An impulse triggered within him and he pushed hard off of the older man just as a flash of light blinded him. He felt himself flying backward, falling, colliding with cold stone, and tumbling. Another scream, his name shouted over all the noise, and then nothing…
oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
"Ares!" Tilea had happened to glance up at the sound of a gunshot above them and saw her friend falling backward down the stairs. Her head swam and her vision blurred, pure panic overwhelming her. A bullet burst from her retrieved pistol and pierced the throat of one of their attackers. She began to run, firing again and taking out another whose attention had been focused on the unarmed Franziska.
He couldn't be dead… It was impossible… After everything, after all this time… He couldn't be dead!
She leapt forward and tackled another man against the wall, splitting open the back of his head and knocking him out cold before he even had a chance to realize what had just happened to him. She spun wildly around, her hair flying out behind her and falling in front of her black eyes, which were burning with fires of uncontrollable rage.
They had killed him… They would die… Every last one…
A man flew back away from Detective Gumshoe, who had gotten a hold of the crowbar he had initially carried and bashed the fourth lackey across the face with it. On the other side of the room, Franziska had found it in herself to move, getting a hold of one of the fallen men's guns and standing. She was now firing at the remaining man, and Tilea joined her. One of Franziska's bullets hit his arm, but she soon found herself out of ammunition. She glanced around for a moment, and then her chest tightened with fear.
Her father had left. And where would he go?
Without even considering what she was doing, Franziska made a run for it, leaping over someone who lay at the bottom of the stairs—not even bothering to look down and see who it was—and sprinted up to the ground level, wheeling around a corner and flying through corridors toward the entrance hall. She had to catch him; she couldn't let him reach the copter, although she had no idea how she would stop him even if she caught up.
Meanwhile, Tilea had seen the other woman leaving the battle and had shouted after her, but there was no way she could give chase. There was still one man left and she couldn't leave Ares here like this. Unfortunately, she too found herself out of bullets. With great force she threw her gun at their last enemy and then jumped after it, clothes-lining him and knocking him to the ground with enough power to make him lose consciousness as well. She spun around again and dashed across the room, sliding to the floor on her knees and stopping beside Ares, hearing Gumshoe panting in the background as an eerie silence set in around them.
"Ares!" He had to be okay. There was no way she had lost him, not after everything they had been through. This couldn't happen; she wouldn't let it!
Phoenix slid an arm beneath Ares and lifted his upper body into a tight embrace, placing her chin on his shoulder as a sob rattled her. "Ares!" His head was bleeding along with his nose and mouth. The fluid was now trickling down her back as she held him, her tears sliding down his. "Ares, please wake up…"
She couldn't remember the last time she had really cried. Had it been that night Ares had just been reliving? The night she had found him mangled, an inch from death, covered in blood and gasoline? Yes, that had to be it; she had not cried since then. She had not been so afraid since then. But back then she had had her cell phone to call for help. She couldn't find it now; it wasn't in her pocket and she had not the faintest inkling of where she had dropped it in this Hellish dungeon.
"M-miss Tilea…" Gumshoe was watching nervously and with a great amount of pity. Still, the fight wasn't over yet. "W-we have t-to…"
"Mew!"
Slowly, Phoenix looked up at the sound of quick and padded footsteps coming toward her and saw a small shape moving down the stairs. "O-Oreo?" She blinked, her confused and shocked state of mind slowing her processing abilities. However, it didn't take too long. "Oreo… G-go get help!"
"Mew!" The creature immediately wheeled back around and bolted out of sight, a shadowed streak flying into the light at the top of the stairs and vanishing. Another sob shook the girl, but she reluctantly placed Ares gently back on the floor, hoping against the odds that someone would find him in time. He was her best friend, but the mission was not complete. Duty called.
"Detective… Please… stay with him until someone comes. I… I have to go now." She wiped her face with the back of her hand though the tears were still flowing.
"Y-yes, Ma'am…" He looked somewhat afraid and uncertain now. What if there were more of these guys around; he'd be alone with this dying kid and bunch of dead bodies.
"Thank you, Detective… Thank you… so much." With that, she was gone, flying up the stairs just as the others had done.
oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
Both men jumped as a loud banging suddenly reached their ears. Miles' head came up from Phoenix's arm as he gasped. "What was that?"
Wright was staring at the closed doors of the cabin, wide-eyed and pale-faced. Someone was trying to force their way into the helicopter, and everyone who was a friend knew how to open the doors. "Don't move," he said to Edgeworth before standing and heading for the other part of the craft. As he entered, he saw with horror that the intruder had discovered how to get in and Manfred von Karma burst inside, wielding a pistol.
Fortunately, Wright had also been given a firearm and Manfred froze as he heard that all-to-familiar click from just in front of him.
"Don't move!" Phoenix Wright shouted, holding the weapon at arm's length and pointing it at the older man. Manfred stared at the spiky-haired young man, suddenly experiencing a strange sensation.
He was in court, standing just yards away from this blue-eyed boy, two desks standing between them, and Miles Edgeworth behind another stand off to the side. This boy was defending him, and he was winning. "OBJECTION!" His left arm extended, aiming an index finger directly at von Karma as if it were a weapon he was using to protect his 'friend', a ferocity in his eyes that only one other lawyer had looked at him with in all forty years of his time in court.
"Phoenix Wright," Manfred growled, once again staring down the barrel of a gun. He had come to hate that word, that name. Phoenix. It meant nothing but sabotage. How was it that this mythological beast of strength and immortality had chosen to guard that pathetic excuse for a human being that was probably hiding somewhere in this craft? Why not him?! Why not the von Karmas! Such strength and relentless power should belong to them! Those protective flames were being wasted on the Edgeworth boy!
"What happened to the others!?" Wright demanded, his hand shaking as horrible thoughts danced around in his mind. If this man had been allowed to get this far, then didn't that mean…?
"They are currently being dealt with while you hide in here with a dying dog." He was smirking now, thankful that this Phoenix wasn't so difficult to scare. "Now, stand aside so I can finish what I started!"
"Never!" If only he wasn't so frightened, so gentle, he would have fired that gun and it would all have been over. He could threaten all he wanted, but von Karma could plainly see that he was not in danger of being shot by this man. "You stay back or I'll… I'll…"
Manfred began to laugh. "Your bleeding heart won't allow it!" He simply stepped forward and took hold of the pistol, twisting it out of Wright's hand and pushing him back against the door. He let the extra gun drop to the floor—he still carried Ares' firearm—and made to force his way into the other room. Phoenix wasn't about to give up so easily, however, and grabbed his attacker's wrist, twisting it and pushing him away.
This struggle soon transformed into an all-out brawl, and Phoenix—like Miles—was astonished at the power of this old man. Wright was able to hold him off for a few minutes, but it wasn't long before he hit the ground too hard, and everything turned a foggy shade of white, his auditory sense failed him, and he found himself unable to rise.
Von Karma spat on the floor near Wright. "Pathetic," he sneered, turning and heading back to the door he knew he had to entered to find what he was looking for. He threw his shoulder against it a few times and it gave way, revealing a cabin with several chairs and a bed on the far end.
"There you are, Boy." The smirk had returned as he advanced on Miles, who was cowering against the wall, trying to make himself as small as possible as if this would trick von Karma into believing him gone. Manfred noted that his hair had already been cut and that he wore a new black sweater, hiding his scarred and bruised torso. 'That's too bad,' he thought with mock sympathy. 'They were so sure they had succeeded.'
"S-stay away from me!" There were tears in his eyes as he stared in horror at the man they had promised him he'd never see again. This wasn't how they said it was going to happen; they were all supposed to come back and take him home, away from this horrible place forever. Had Phoenix… lied to him?
Manfred strode over to the bed and reached across it, grabbing hold of the collar of Miles' shirt and dragging him closer, drawing his pistol with his free hand. "Did you honestly think you could get away from me?" he hissed, pressing the cold metal up against his victim's throat. Miles didn't know what this thing was or what it did, but somehow the loud click that issued from it told him that death was near, sending his panic level to new heights.
"No!" he cried, trying to pull away and pushing on the gun. "Please, Master, d-don't do it!"
"Lie still!" He removed his hand from the shirt to the back of Miles' neck, gripping painfully and putting pressure on one of his most recent wounds. Miles froze completely, though he continued to whimper and shake in anticipation of what was coming.
"I'm sorry… Please… don't kill me…"
Manfred was leaning over him so that their faces were less than a foot apart and he could clearly see the terror and desperation in the young man's dull gray eyes. "I told you from the beginning that you would die by my hand. Consider it a favor, deliverance from your pathetic existence."
"Franziska…"
"Goodnight, Miles Edgewor—"
He was falling. A shot rang out, but he hadn't yet meant to pull the trigger. He fell hard onto his back, though a much smaller body blocked him from hitting the floor. He struggled with whomever had pulled him down, and they struggled back with a fierceness he did not expect for someone so small. Still, he was victorious and found himself pinning his daughter to the carpeted floor of the jet.
"You." He held her firmly in place, and no matter how hard she struggled, she couldn't budge him. "You want to fight me, Girl? And here I thought you couldn't get any stupider."
Franziska gasped as he wrenched her up by her right arm and slung her against a wall, causing her to cry out. He kept his grip on her arm and wrapped the fingers of his free hand around her slender neck. He felt a sharp pain in one of his shins and assumed she had kicked him, but it didn't faze him. "You, of all people, should know better than to stand in my way!"
"Get off of her!" Wright collided with him and they both fell. Franziska was pulled down for a moment before her father released her, but she made a grab for anything within her reach to hold herself up.
She didn't find anything to grab onto, but two hands closed around her outstretched arm and pulled. It hurt, and even more so when her ribs hit the side of the bed, but she was able to quickly push herself up and avoid falling into the tangle of limbs below. She tried to stand up straight, but she found herself halfway lying on the bed and looked over to see that Miles was clutching her arm, keeping her from falling.
"Miles…" She stared at him, forgetting everything else that was going on behind her. She had gotten a glimpse of him upon entering the room, but had had no time to really look. Now here he was right in front of her, half-dead and destroyed, staring back at her with dull eyes that seemed to have a permanent look of fear within them. How many times had she looked into those eyes? She didn't even recognize them now. How could this be the man who had saved her life probably more times than she was aware, the man who would go to any lengths to protect her, the man whom she had loved ever since she was a child?
"How can this be what's left of you?" she whispered, silent tears rolling down her cheeks. He simply watched her for what felt like an eternity before finally giving his response, which was just as quiet.
"I'm sorry…"