"It's a good thing we got you two out when we did, then," he said.
"Why's that?" Crouger asked, turning back to face him.
"Brant Medical Technologies is one of Chronos' front corporations. If they were looking to recruit your mother, they would have likely had their eyes on you, as well. You're healthy and in good physical condition; it's more than possible that they would have had you marked as a candidate for processing later."
"Shit. You mean they would have turned me into one of those Zoa-things?"
"Zoanoids," he corrected, out of habit. "You're currently too young to undergo processing safely – the lower age limit for the procedure is seventeen – but it's quite probable that Chronos would have wanted you to become a Zoanoid once you had reached the right age."
"Well, that would suck," was Crouger's opinion. "I think I'm glad I became a Guyver instead of having that happen to me."
"And glad we found you, I think."
"Yeah," Crouger said, guffawing. "That, too."
"Anyway, we should deal with that Chronos base before we leave," he said, seeing the perfect opportunity to deal Chronos a severe blow and at the same time gauge how useful Crouger was going to be to his future plans.
"That's kind of what we do, yeah?"
"You know about our battle with Chronos?" he asked, relived and slightly impressed that Crouger had taken the time to learn such a thing.
"Sho and I talked a lot," he said. "We didn't really have that much to do for the first two weeks we were at my house, since Mom had pretty much forbidden me to go to school until she was satisfied that I'd gotten better. Moms, huh?"
The expression on Crouger's face was such that he suspected he was being invited to share in a joke. "I wouldn't know."
The look Crouger gave him was one of mild confusion, but he didn't intend to explain anything of his life story. Not even to Fukamachi, whom he had known through a good deal of the time he'd been at school and certainly not to someone he'd only met that day, no matter how useful the gray Guyver might prove himself to be.
"Fukamachi?" he asked, switching back to his native language with the ease of long practice.
"What is it, Agito?"
"There's a Chronos processing facility in this area," he said, knowing what effect it would have on his fellow Japanese Guyver. "I don't know how large it is as yet, but Crouger seems to know this area fairly well. I'm sure he would be able to inform us of the best possible avenues of attack."
"I think so, too," the younger Guyver said, nodding. "I'll ask him about it."
He was slightly surprised to hear that, until he remembered that Fukamachi had been communicating with Crouger in that selfsame way for the past two weeks. He was likely used to it by now. While he waited for the other two Guyvers to come to a consensus – preferably one favorable to his plans so he wouldn't have to take time convincing them – he gave an order to the driver to pull over.
This neighborhood they were traveling through seemed to be quite calm, even placid, at this point, but he doubted very much that it would remain so after the attack conducted on this branch of Chronos. Ordering the driver, one of his lower-level but unfailingly loyal soldiers, to stop at the nearest available area where they would be able to easily conceal themselves once they had left their vehicle, he turned to regard Crouger as the younger boy nudged him.
"What is it?"
"If you're looking for a place to hide this thing, there's always the Haunted Lot."
"What haunted lot?"
"It's this old parking structure that they haven't really gotten around to demolishing yet. Well, mostly, anyway… they took down all of the upper levels and cleared them out, but there are two underground levels that nobody's done anything with. Everyone here just calls it the Haunted Lot. The name fits – it definitely looks like it could be haunted."
"What do you mean?"
"It has all these deep, jagged shadows – there are these chunks of concrete and asphalt all over the place that a lot of us pick up for souvenirs."
"Are you sure the building is structurally sound?" he asked, not wanting to go into a place that was liable to collapse on him without warning.
"I'm sure; I've been in and out of there a few times myself."
Sitting back in his seat, contemplating the new information he'd been given, he turned to look back at the other Guyver. "Where is this haunted lot of yours in relation to the Brant building?"
"It's three blocks down, but you'll have a clear line of sight to the building," he chuckled. "If you can even see it from that far away, that is."
It sounded almost ideal for this kind of operation, so he ordered the driver to head in that direction. Once they had reached the indicated area, he could begin to see the reason that the people here – the children, at least – had decided to call this place haunted. It certainly had the ambiance of a place forgotten by time, and if he'd been inclined to believe in such foolish things as ghosts, this would be the kind of place where he'd expect them.
There were a few broken blocks and torn up slabs of concrete, some with severed ends of rebar sticking out of them like shattered twigs. It was impossible to calculate how large the structure would have once been, as most of the debris had been removed, and the few large chunks that remained were not enough to make even a conservative estimate.
"You said that this 'haunted lot' of yours was underground?" he asked.
"That's what I said."
"The driver says he cannot see a way into the underground chamber that you spoke of."
"This'd be a lot easier if I was riding shotgun," the redhead said, grabbing the empty passenger seat and hauling himself forward. "Or if I was on foot," he muttered, clearly speaking to himself again. "You see those two slabs that are really close together?"
The soldier, after looking to him and receiving conformation, turned his attention back to Crouger. "I see them."
"Good. Keep driving until you get at least three feet out from them, then turn right. You'll be able to see the ramp; it's got a few rocks on it, but we've cleared away most of the big ones."
"I'll keep that in mind."
Folding his arms and leaning back against his seat, he felt the expected change in orientation as their car proceeded down the ramp.
"Thanks for warning me about the rocks, kid."
"No problem," Crouger said, releasing his grip and settling back into his seat.
Soon enough, their vehicle had entered the darkness of what was obviously the former underground parking structure that the children of this area had dubbed the haunted lot. Leaving his soldier with orders to remain with the vehicle, he stepped outside and surveyed the place. It was easy to see how the impression had been given: the shadows that gathered there in the absence of any working lights certainly made the artificial cavern seem eerie.
"When do you and your companions come down here?" he asked, looking around.
"We usually come down here at night," he said, helping Fukamachi out of the car and then looking around himself. "We've even set off some fireworks a few times. Mostly on the Fourth of July, but there have been a few times we've set them off just for fun. Bottle rockets, mostly; nothing that can do any real damage to reinforced concrete."