23.
Can't Slap A Band-Aid on That Action – WWKD? - Real Life Is Not Ninja Gaiden – Ben Scares The Literal Crap Out of Everyone, Really – Kyra Answers The Previous Question
Ellis finished rummaging through the Orchid's stockpile of medications with his face darkened and full of lost hope. A supply of aspirin, basic emergency antibiotics, cold and flu therapies, and first aid kits were going to do little against a plague designed to make 'bubonic' sound like a word one would hear from a Teletubby. The plain course of action was to not be exposed in the first place – but there were few masks on hand beyond the surgical variety. Even if he could find a cache of modern, effective gas masks, the logistics stumped him. There were dozens of people on the island, and as of the morning bell that he'd ignored a couple hours ago in favor of trying for something, anything, to help, they would be scattered in several safe spaces around the island.
Safe spaces that would have no natural air filtration.
Spaces – he realized with a dawning fuzzy horror – that he was supposed to be in himself. With further horror, he reminded himself that it wouldn't matter. If a test of the plague went off – and with what he'd gleaned of Mittelwerk and his science, he had no doubts the man had come to try – they were doomed.
Back to the simple course – stop exposure. His heart sank, unable to formulate a plan through his anxiety. Could they evacuate instead? Panic said not likely.
Above him, the machinery of the Orchid's elevator clanked into action. Ellis grasped instinctively that it would be Mittelwerk's guards and pet lab assistants, and neither group would be happy to see him. There were places in the lab he could hide in the short term – several nooks and crannies where the archaelogical tools and his little laboratory were not flush with the old building. But that wouldn't hold out. He cursed himself for not having left when he could, then cursed again for not being able to pull a medical miracle out of his ass.
As the elevator began to descend, another thought dropped in to visit and he contemplated it with some terrified, wry calculation – What would Kyra do?
He pulled his white lab coat on and blessed it for being plain and unlabeled, then shrunk himself into one of the darkest, out of the way nooks of the lab to wait and see if his dumb idea could work. He spent the last few seconds of the lowering elevator fervently praying that Mittelwerk was an equal opportunity employer.
. . .
Tsuchi ducked further into the stand of bamboo and flattened himself into the dark earth. In the distance, through the narrow beams of the plants, he saw half a dozen of the jopok mercenariesmilling around the nest of islander homes. They had infiltrated the island far more quickly than most of the islanders would have guessed. His courage had sunk somewhere around the soles of his shoes when the wind had carried to him their laughing, unworried voices telling each other filthy jokes in their native language. A part of Tsuchi's brain noted they were all stale jokes that'd had their imageboard heyday at least two years ago. Stunk on ice was the term he'd picked up from Krish. Next they'd move up to dead baby humor. He shifted very slightly to angle his view.
Krish's house was along the left arc of the little village, and the door hung slightly open. He suspected that at least one of the mercs had gone in and rummaged around, but he couldn't tell if there was anyone still inside. His worst fear bubbled up – what if they'd taken the bottles of medicine already?
A whimper bubbled up in his throat and he forced it to die there; he was terrified but he could do that much. Tsuchi couldn't know how many troops were actually present; too much chance that there could be a few lounging near his hiding place, or taking a piss on the trees nearby. It struck him that he could simply flee and use his flare to return to safety. He could tell the others why and it'd be the complete truth and no one could blame him. He had tried. He had.
But if he didn't try harder, Krish might die. Another whimper tried to hiss out his nose and Tsuchi crinkled his face to stop it. He felt horrible. Krish always had a smile for him, even when there was pain in the older man's eyes. There had been a lot of pain in them just a little while ago. Tsuchi's stomach knotted at his options.
Ryu Hayabusa has inadequately prepared me for this, he thought to himself in Japanese, looking at the natural dips in the earth and covering plantlife between him and the houses. For a ninja, he really couldn't hide for shit. He licked dry lips with a dry tongue and took a chance at scuttling closer to the cottages.
Not far from making it to the lee of one of the houses, buried deep in a stand of bushes and light-smelling flowers, Tsuchi bit off a startled cry when a hand dropped on his shoulder.
. . .
"What exactly do you think you're doing?" It was Ben's voice, dropped into a register so low it could be mistaken for a sibilant breeze. Tsuchi felt a sincere temptation to crap himself in relief. He turned his head and looked into the man's bright blue eyes. They blinked into his, crinkled in annoyance.
Tsuchi opened his mouth and then shut it again, feeling his voice try to croak into something too loud. He took a deep breath and tried again, pitching his seldom-used voice as soft as he could. "Krish. Krish at the river with the others – he's sick, something's wrong. He forgot his medicine."
The blue eyes closed briefly, then opened again. "So Rose sent you." In the whisper, an undertone of disbelief.
"I – volunteered." The eyes widened at that and Ben's hand fell free of Tsuchi's shoulder. It settled in the grass next to Ben's hunched form, the tips of his fingers making marks in the earth. "I have a flare, I need to get inside and then get back. I can. Maybe." He smiled a little, ruefully. "Can you help me?"
Ben examined the young man, his features settling into their typical blank slate. It was a virtual, abrupt monologue for the boy; the plea earnest. It was plain that he was scared shitless. A better plan would be to send the boy back to Rose and get the medication himself, but Hugo had specifically asked him to check on the islanders huddling at the temple. He'd only paused here because he'd spotted the boy's furtive dart into the brush. Too much further delay here would mean no contact with Bernard before a likely complication with the invaders pulled him back to Hugo's side. That would not do either. He rocked back on his heels, considering, then swept his gaze along the cottages.
Tsuchi felt oddly comforted by the man's silent thoughtfulness. He hadn't been rejected out of hand.
"You did well getting this far," Ben whispered after a long moment. Tsuchi felt a small ball of pride warm him. "They probably don't stay in the homes; they've rummaged each in turn. These half dozen are watching for visitors, but don't expect to see any. They've almost certainly been told we've all hid and that we're not stupid enough to lurk around here."
Tsuchi, still dropped in a properly lurking crouch, made a sour face.
"Exceptions happen." Ben added smoothly. He spoke again, his words rapid-fire and tactical. "But they aren't expecting any. That makes it much easier." He tilted his head slightly. "You were going for that near lee. A good start, but it'll only get you halfway. You'll be best served by going in the front while they're distracted – a sprint from that near corner will do it. Take as little time as you can. To exit again, Krish's cottage has a small window in the bathroom along the back wall, which is one of the only two rooms you should be wasting time in. The other is the kitchen. You're small, like me. Drop out of that window and, to put it clearly, haul ass back into the bamboo and return to Rose."
Tsuchi let the concept of the plan roll around his mind. "Distraction?"
Ben glanced down at his compact, stout form with a wry half-smile. "I run quite quickly, actually. Particularly when there's a chance of chase. They won't know if it's one of us or a taste of the local wildlife, but tactics dictate they will investigate regardless. Now – we wait for them to turn. When you make it to the lee, I'll grant you a few seconds to catch your breath. Then you move." He leaned in towards the boy. "Are you ready?"
Tsuchi was.
. . .
Kyra successfully ducked two patrols of mercenaries and a knotted gaggle of Mittelwerk's lab rats while looking for an alternate point of entry to the Orchid. She knew it was extremely unlikely that there'd be one, but she continued to hold out hope. From the time that she'd arrive to now, none of the groups acted as if they'd found anything unusual. Either they'd somehow not found Ellis, Ellis had managed to leave before the Koreans arrived, or finding him and immediately shooting him didn't qualify as anything unusual.
She really hoped it wasn't the last one on the list, but so far had seen nothing to help her deductions. Meanwhile, she eyed nearby stacks of coats set aside and rolling handcarts left in a cluster. The rats were moving whatever struck their interest out of the station and back to the cargo ship in a steady fashion.
Mutters of rapid-fire Korean reached her ears, mixed with technobabble in a half dozen accents that all might as well have been in the same incomprehensible language. She pursed her lips and considered her options when the latest group to come out of the station caught her eye.
Four of them, stuck deep in contemplation of whatever files they had found inside. They had a fifth with them – some hapless gopher sucker with a slopping box of additional data piled higher than his head. The indispensable assistant, required and yet beneath notice. His white lab coat was dirtied, the classic marks of someone that actually did his job, and dark knuckles gnarled around the bottom corners of the box. She watched him move with the diverse group of scientists past the jopok checkpoint without a second glance given and felt a hysteric laugh claw up her throat.
Fuck me, I'm a terrible fucking influence!
Ellis had safely slid his own way out of the Orchid. The laugh died of its own accord when she realized he was not splitting from the group.
He's going for gold. Holy fuckin' shit, the doc's gonna try for the big bitch.
She snaked a hand out of her hiding place and snagged a coat for herself. Well, I'm not going to let him get killed on that thing alone.