HEY, I'M BACK!

I sincerely apologize for the lacking quantity and quality. I need to drain my head for the next chapter and i hope you will let it slide. As usual, please review if you have words to tear me apart.

When we rescued them from him, the first thing they asked was where were you. And when I told them that we couldn't get you out, those two boys had the most lost look on their face. So protect them well. They have, for better or worse, attached themselves to you.-Transcript between Cleo Fox and Nora Murray.

Lear Jet

On route to Tokyo International Airport

"Alright Cleo, tell us, what's so important about this Intel of yours that warrant us being in the upmost privacy?" Dutch questioned, arms folded as he stood at a table, opposite the addressed woman.

The woman answered. "Well, for one, the only reason I even have this is because Traxus activities have managed to garner a massive amount of trust from multiple client nations, such as yours truly. And two, all this data took years to compile together, even in its current patchy form. My sources would be very happy for this not to leak out, les certain organizations become alerted."

"Aye, I see what you mean. Our resident pilot isn't even here in this room." Aden noted, sitting back in a chair, eyes closed.

"Now let's get started shall we?" Cleo spoke, pressing a button that darkened the room and made a hologram that spun in midair.

"There has been numerous rumors to this mysterious group known as phantom task. None has been substantiated but they are what we have right now. The organization seems to have a long life but more to that in a second. This is what confirmed history tells us." She started, as the hologram changed into a list.

"All this incidents were attributed to them. As you can seem, the large majority of them are related to the IS, with the rest being industries that has application for the IS. They have clashed with government forces from all over the world, with no discernible area of concentration. Another issues to note is that the objective of the attacks were always acquisition, with recorded attempts to steal whatever they are targeting."

"So their are putting all their eggs into getting an IS and the ability to maintain them. How many have they bagged?"

"Officially, all IS are in their owners hands, as of the treaty. Unofficially...they could have approximately 10." Cleo said.

Dutch whistled. "Enough to give any country a bad day."

"But what do they want? What sort of objective do they gain from all that firepower?" Nora questioned.

"Honestly, we don't know. What we can infer from their behavior is that they appear to be some sort of anarchist organization, albeit very well organized. An oxymoron, if you wish. They have given no identity, no ideology and their personnel appear to be multi-cultural. At this point, if I may use one of your designations Dutch, the conclusion is that our opponents are aimlessly evil."

"Wait, you said that they appear to go a way back. Explain." Dutch asked.

Cleo tapped another button. "After we managed to acquire a relatively solid picture of how they operate in combat situations, I requested a probe into past government engagements with similar traits. What I had were a list of incident bearing the similar signature going back up to 50 years. Whoever this guys were, they have been operating for quite a while."

"So we have opponents with both experience and resources in their sides? Ugh, why can't they pick one or the other? Both is just unfair." Aden quipped.

Their superior laughed. "Don't worry, it's just a single op. I won't believe you meet them ever again. Anyway, I forward everything I have to you for your pleasure. Just keep it secret." She finished before shutting down the hologram and unlocking the door to the room.

Mirabel walked in, visibly antsy. "Finally. That liquor was looking pretty inviting."

"I apologize for shutting you out but certain matters persist that needs to remain silent. Still, I have something that pertain more to our future. At great cost, I have managed to obtain the guest list for this year IS summit." Cleo said as she flourished a file from under her table.

Translation: She paid for the meal where she met her source. Was the thought that ran in the other occupants' head.

Dutch grabbed the file. "Hmmm, hey look, your old friend Mr Dunois is in there. Have fun meeting him."

Nora groaned. "Oh give me a break. Why they all just take the bait and leave me alone?"

"Aye, woman. You are a very desirable person, skills and looks together. The fact that he headhunts you shouldn't be a surprise." Aden answered.

"Not to mention, the mark of the good IS pilot is the ability to process information quickly. Given that, you already display great potential, with your record. You should be pleased you even have this." Mirabel shot in.

"Don't even go there." The focus of the group attention growled.

Cleo chuckled. "Be that as it may, you are still attending the summit. Now to other relevant matters. I already selected the attire for everyone, although yours is still under the needle and would acquire some adjustments, Nora. When we land, a car will be ready for you to transport you to the tailor. When you are ready, call the car to pick you up."

She turned to face the rest of the room occupants. "Now if you excuse us, I would like some privacy. How your attire looks like with be a secret to every one but the owner so please, if you may?"

As per her words, the remaining trio filed out of the door, shutting it behind them.

"Guys, if it is okay, what was that in the hanger bay just now?" Mirabel asked meekly.

Both Dutch and Aden exchanged loving grins. "You saw, didn't you?" Aden asked.

Receiving a pensive nod, Dutch chuckled softly. "It's her way of say sorry. Most of the time, she doesn't cross the line. But when she does, that's her regret overtaking her."

"Aye. Woman doesn't like taking advantage of us, she cares too much to seize the moment." Aden interjected.

"I...see. What about you?" Mirabel questioned.

"We keep our options open."

Tokyo

"Ugh, why do I get this kind of stuff?" Nora complained into her phone as she leaned back on the seat, the gentle growl of the car engine on the road filling the air.

"Well, you wanted some sort of movement just now. Now you have it." Dutch answered over the phone as he guided a Fatboy tank towards his enemy's base.

"Gah, whatever. At least I got some warm clothing this time." She grumbled as her other hand nestled in her sweater pocket.

"And I get my warm heater. So everyone wins out." Her friend answered.

"Strategic Launch Detected." Came the sound of the computer over the phone.

Dutch cursed. "Going to have to call you back. Aden rushed nukes again."

The line clicked shut as Nora chuckled. "He always rushes nukes." She muttered as she looked out the window, a gentle layer of frost covering the world outside.

As the car continued along its journey, halted occasionally by towers of lights, Nora put on the pair of thin winter gloves, helpfully provided to her in a glove compartment. She breathed against the window, smiling softly at the condensed air on the glass and dragged her finger over it, calmly drawing an arrow.

"Ten little Indian boys went out to dine; one choked himself and then there were nine." She sang softly, her upbeat voice contradicting the morbid lyrics of the song.

"Nine little Indian boys sat up very late; one overslept and then there were eight."

"Seven little Indian boys traveling to Devon; one said'd he will stay there and then there were seven."

"Ma'am, we are at your destination." The driver spoke, making no mention of his passenger's song choices.

"Thank you." Nora answered, making her way out the door.

Traxus Tokyo facility

"You know, rushing nukes is just ass for a strategy." Dutch complained as he watched yet his defenses intercepted another missile.

"Oh and spamming units isn't?" Aden drawled; as he watched his Fatboy super tanks trade barrages with his opponent's own Fatboy army.

"At least there is some sort of plan there. And control. Like the pair of submarine aircraft carriers parked outside your base." Dutch returned, commanding the mobile airfields to begin releasing the bombers stored within.

"Turtling is a plan. A plan that takes great patience and tenacity. Just like the tenacious air fortresses that guard my base." His opponent answered, sending the flying airfields to release their fighter complement.

"Ah, A good commander knows when to commit his reserves. Like now." Dutch continued, as a hail of much smaller tanks rained in on Aden's army.

"Well, both of you will have to commit to a much different issue." Dale announced as he walked in, a grave look chiseled on his face.

"Come on..."

Tokyo

"Yes, that would be perfect. Thank you." Nora finished as she shook hands with the tailor. Turning to leave, she nodded thanks to the attendant who opened to doors, stepping out in the cold once more.

Honestly, she didn't understand why Cleo wanted her to look at the dress personally. The woman was impeccable in her selection again as usual, leaving only little minor changes for her to have a hand in.

Letting out a hah of warm air onto her bare fingers, she reached in her pocket to get her gloves when a angry yell caught her attention.

"Stop! Thief!" She turned, her eyes zooming on a pair, one chasing the other, both heading towards her.

Sighing, she turned to the heaven, her eyes cursing at her seeming lack of inactivity.

"Can't a lady get some rest?" She whispered.

The thief was about to reach her. As she got ready to move, she spied a flash of steel in his hand.

'Of course he would have a knife.' She thought as she reacted accordingly, grabbing his arm and violently twisting it behind him. As her hapless prey screamed in pain, her fingers deftly plucked the knife from his open palm, easy as pie.

"You are a really unlucky person. I am in a tired mood." She growled before twisting further, making the man scream in pain. Her other hand searched the man clothing, easily finding a wallet and taking it.

"Scat before I really get mad."

The man complied, running away as fat as his legs could bring him.

Nora turned her attention to the other person. Her eyes checked him out, noting his slim but trained body, made of average height, and his short black hair, complimented by a pair of inquisitive brown eyes. She also noted his young looks, judging him to be of pre-teen to teenage age.

"Kid, this yours?" She questioned, answered her own query by quickly glancing at the identity of the person in the wallet. The same look confirmed her answer.

"Yes. Thank you." The boy thanked as he caught the wallet she tossed at him.

"Take better care with it." She instructed as a strong wintery wind blew down the street, prompting her to search for her gloves, only to finding them

fluttering across the street, kept aloft by the flowing air and the passage of cars.

"Awwww, poop." She grumbled as she saw the only line of defense for her fingers disappear into the other end of the roadway.

"Ah, sorry for that! Let me buy you a new one." The boy apologetically gushed.

Nora waved it aside. "Don't worry kid. It isn't a life and death issue."

"Please, it's my fault." The boy begged.

Nora gave him a look, twisting her lip. "You know what, how about you join me for a drink. Give a young lady company for a while as repayment."

"Ah..." The boy answered, unsettled by the sudden request.

"Come on now, you did say it was your fault."

"Okay." He finally relented.

"Good. Nora Murray." Nora introduced, sticking her hand out.

The boy tentatively shook her hand. "Ichika Orimura."

"Well then, Mr Orimura, I know a respectable place near here that does a highly dangerous hot chocolate. How about that?" The woman offered.

Trapped by his word, Ichika nodded.

Thus they set off, taking quick steps while Nora kept her hands in her pocket to converse heat.

"So, Mr Orimura, given your rather youthful appearance, I assume that you are in junior high school?" She questioned.

"Yes, Nora-san." Ichika returned.

Nora smiled, as their footsteps reached the entrance of the cafe, cheerfully situated barely inside an alley. Greeted by a smiling waiter, they were led to a window seat, the silicon construct offering a view of the lightly frosted would outside, yet withholding the warmth within to give a cozy image.

Nora giggled as she took a menu from the waiter. "Well then, there has to be more than that. Your surname does seem rather familiar."

Ichika sighed, nodding in agreement. "My sister was the first Monte Grosso Winner."

The woman opposite him snapped her fingers, even as her eyes scanned the menu in front of her. "Of course. You're the one that was kidnapped and she left the second competition to rescue you."

Ichika's shoulders slumped. "Yes, I am."

"Two cup of the house special." Nora said to the waiter that she signaled before returning the menu and turning to the boy in front of her. "Kid, that's nothing to be ashamed of."

The boy shook his head. "No, it showed me that I needed to grow stronger. So that I would never have to depend on people again."

Nora grinned understandingly. "Mr Orimura, that is a noble aspiration and one that I applaud. But you sound like you have a blind devotion to that aspiration. At that, I have to give you a piece of advise. Temper your ideals. Strength applied inappropriately is no better than no strength at all."

Ichika gave a unwelcome stare. "What do you know?"

"Me? I, like you, was placed too in a situation where I was powerless. Only with the help of the two closest people that I have was I able to escape." The brunette described, her eyes awash with heartfelt memory. "It taught me that it's okay to depend on someone, as long as you do the best you can first."

"I see." The boy answered.

The conversation was interrupted by the reappearance of the waiter, who delivered their cups before leaving.

Nora took a sip, smiling at the taste. "Now that's good stuff. Now, if I recall correctly, your sister had quite the journey. Champion, then trainer for the German army and then pfft! Gone from the face of the earth."

The boy nodded. "Yes. I worry for her. She doesn't come home at all."

"I'm sure she's fine. After all, that lady has qualifications that make me jealous. I'm sure she doesn't contact you for a good reason."

"I hope so. What about you Nora-san?" Ichika questioned.

"Me? I'm a troubleshooter. You give me problems, I fix them. I'm pretty much a international person, given the nature of my work and is blessed to work with two awesome guys that I depended on for a long time. They got me out of that powerless situation in the first place."

Just then, Nora's phone chimed. Flipping it open, she took the call, apologetically signaling to Ichika.

"We have a serious problem." Dutch spoke over the phone.

"Aw man, I just ordered a cup of chocolate." she complained.

"Sorry but you have to finish it quick. The car is on its way to pick you up."

"Fine." Was her answer before shutting off the call.

"Ugh, it appears that another problem has popped up. Sorry kid but we will have to cut this short." Nora said as she hurriedly drained her cup. Reaching in her wallet, she pulled out a large denomination note and placed it on the table.

"Use this for the tab. Keep the change for yourself." She ordered.

Ichika shook his head. "I can't take it." He shot back.

The brunette chuckled. "Well, then take it as an early Christmas gift Mr Orimura. One filled with well wishes. It appears that you need a lot of it, with your sister legacy to live up to." She finished before leaving.