Phantom Destiny Part Nineteen
"Breakout"
Author's Note: The initial version of this chapter contained, by mistake, an EXTREMELY bad spoiler scene that I had written as an experiment to see if I liked it and then forgotten it was sitting at the bottom of the document. The scene was for many chapters from now, was incomplete, and was not yet how I want it. I caught it 12 minutes after the update and removed it, but oh god, I am so sorry if anybody saw it. Please shhh if you did (but let me know, cause I'm never going to stop wondering).
Trap's long fingers danced spider-like over his keyboard. He was alone in his personal office, with the door closed. The room was sparse and undecorated, lit by the passionless glow of various computer monitors. He'd taken the liberty of removing his tie and loosening the top button of his shirt. His scientist's mind had little appreciation for either. Things that existed simply for the sake of pretense tended to frustrate him. He paused, his cool grey eyes scanning the information he'd pulled up on the monitor. He punched a few more keys and entered a password. The researcher's jawline tightened faintly as he discovered what he knew he would find - another dead end. His right hand tapped a tense rhythm against the frame of his keyboard.
It wasn't so much the dead ends – his profession demanded a tolerance, if not a fascination, for information that required perseverance to obtain. What was coiling his stomach was that it should have been easy. A simple search for trivial information. There should have been no reason to classify the status of an ordinary high school student. Yet his searches pulled up nothing, only brought him in subtle, useless circles. An ordinary searcher would not think twice about it, but Trap knew the circuitous data meant something was being hidden, and as the foremost researcher on the Dark Wings project, he was having trouble understanding why he could not locate information that related to his research.
Of course, his promise to find out the status of the Niwa boy's female acquaintance wasn't something Gorudo's security would have anticipated, but Trap saw no reason why it should be so hard to pull up a single fact about her. The address was blocked from him, schools denied his password authorization, doctors and affiliated companies were all conspicuously missing from her file. No report of the kidnapping was on record, but he hadn't expected there to be. No obituary had been filed in the paper suggesting the girl's death, but that too could be controlled through Gorudo's contacts. Trap had even paid a visit to the scene of the abduction, and found no clues.
He'd been informed by Shira in his initial briefing that the girl was alive, but if she was, he could find no way of proving it. If Trap said that Risa Harada was fine, the boy would believe him, or so he had said. But Trap was a scientist, and a good one. Falsifying data was not his habit, nor was letting sleeping ducks lie. Did the organization actually murder the boy's girlfriend? He had little faith in Shira's word. Fancy titles aside, when push came to shove, she had no merit as part of this research. She was a soldier, and his perception was that candor was not among a soldier's merits.
A sharp knock on the door made him glance up from his futile system queries. "Come in," he said in a composed tone, a bored stare programming itself across his face as he closed the query window on his monitor and replaced it with a spreadsheet.
Shira opened the door and strode in, her bold red hair tinting a nauseous gray in the green and black light of Trap's monitors. "Do you always have to sit in the dark?" she demanded, narrowing her eyes.
"Yes. What can I do for you?" he said, his grey-hawk eyes watching her expectantly.
"What's the ETA for our results? Gorudo is getting pushy."
"Soon," Trap answered, ignoring her persistent references to their research as if it had been collaborative. It wasn't her fault she'd been placed on this project, though he couldn't imagine why the decision had been made. The only thing she'd scientifically demonstrated about Daisuke was that he recovered well from gunshot wounds. "You can tell him we've developed a program that should be able to manipulate the intensity of the boy's neural link with the Black Wings. It's a self-teaching algorithm, so within 24 hours, it should be sufficiently fluent with the boy's neural patterns to reproduce and magnify the feedback.
Shira managed to restrain the confusion that tried to show in her expression. "So," she said carefully, drifting into an uncomfortable hesitation.
Trap recognized her confusion and decided to be merciful. "Tell Gorudo we should be able to summon the Black Wings from wherever-it-is tomorrow," he translated, apparently with less smugness than she expected, because she afforded him a brief, curious look. It was the friendliest expression he'd seen from her in the course of the project, and certainly friendlier than any he'd shown her.
He expected her to go then, but she lingered in the doorway for a moment. She looked like she wanted to ask something, and for the sake of curiosity, he raised his eyebrows at her expectantly.
She dropped her voice. "When Mr. Gorudo has the Black Wings back, what do you think he intends to do with it?"
"I'll answer that if you answer something for me," Trap said without missing a beat, his expression as flat and calculating as ever.
She regarded him quizzically, but said, "Fine."
"Is Harada Risa alive?"
He watched her ferret-like eyes carefully as she hesitated. "That's classified information."
"I know," he said darkly, and waited.
"No, she isn't," she said, pushing each syllable out carefully. "She resisted during the abduction, and we disposed of her."
"Disposed of her."
"Over a cliff."
Trap studied her closely. He could swear he'd heard guilt in her voice, but he couldn't find it in her face. Instead, she just said "And your answer?"
"I have no idea," Trap said.
"That's not an answer," she growled.
"The Black Wings was originally an art piece. Perhaps he plans to put it on display," he offered indifferently.
Shira looked vaguely uncomfortable. "But it shares the same brain patterns as the boy. Does that make it…human, or some sort of living being?"
"Says the woman who threw an eighteen year-old off a cliff," Trap said with a flicker of dry amusement.
"I was following orders," she snapped.
"You'd be safest to keep following them, and to stop asking questions."
"You should talk," she chortled fiercely.
"Is that all, then?" Trap asked impersonally and sat back in his chair, as if they'd only discussed the report. He rested his elbows on the arms of his chair and made a peak with his fingers.
"Yes," Shira bristled. "I'll convey your message to Mr. Gorudo.
When she had closed the door behind her, Trap rested his chin on his knuckles and thought. The girl was dead. Frankly, he hadn't expected that. He knew the organization didn't always work with the most elegant methods, but it this case, it seemed like a blatant waste of life.
He frowned as he realized he was getting angry, and made himself stop. He had a rule about investing himself personally in projects. He didn't. Still, there was more than ethics at stake with this news. If the kid took it poorly, it could interfere with the last crucial sample of data he needed. He forced the issue from his mind for the time being and turned his attention to his work.
~oOoOo~
Shira alternated between irritation and nervousness and confusion as she walked swiftly across the building. She'd shared restricted information – how had he made her do that? Over such a stupid question? Which he didn't even answer, she noted. He was as arrogant and calculating as they said. She groaned as she keyed in her clearance code for the elevator, then stepped into its black marble walls and pressed the button for the top floor. The elevator made her enter a second passcode when she reached the top, and then a receptionist's face appeared on a tiny screen above the keypad.
"Here to make a report," Shira said to the receptionist, who knew who she was. A moment later, the elevator doors opened and she stepped out into Gorudo's cavernous office. Stone sculptures and modern art that looked expensive, albeit not particularly attractive, adorned the large outer lobby. They always reminded her of toys left out in a child's backyard, but she of course kept her opinions to herself.
She passed the receptionist's desk and crossed the room to the large oak doors that led to Gorudo's inner office. The knock was a pretense, because she knew he could already see her on camera. A moment later, she let herself in. Gorudo was as intimidating as ever. His cobra eyes looked at her without addressing her, his hand paused in the middle of what he had been writing when she came in. It was a gesture that said "Spit it out." His handsomeness contrasted so harshly with the predatory eyes and impatient frown that she always reacted to him by first wanting to touch him, and then wanting to flip him off. Of course, she never did either.
"Sir, the research will be complete tomorrow. At that point," she thought about trying to use some of the technical terms Trap had told her, but was too wary of misusing one and looking foolish. "At that point, we will be able to use the boy to summon the Black Wings."
"I already have the Black Wings," he corrected casually, as if it was common knowledge. He went back to writing, apparently losing interest in her by the second.
Shira's eyes widened. "You….have it?"
"We acquired it last night," Goruda said, drawing a deep breath to still his impatience at having to state the obvious.
"Sir….if it's…..if he's here, then our research…"
"What of it?"
She stared at him, unable to hide a trace of irritation. "Trap is researching that boy so that he can summon the Black Wings. If you already-"
"Trap was doing that. Now he is doing something else. He just doesn't know it yet," Gorudo said. There was something in his eyes. A warning. "Only a select group of personnel are informed of our guest's presence. Trap is not to be among that group. Understood?"
"Yes," Shira mumbled, unable to grasp the situation. The term 'guest' pulled back her earlier suspicion. Was the Black Wings they'd been searching for a human being? If so, why had they needed the boy?
"Don't think about it too hard," Gorudo said in response to her blank expression. "You're not here for research. Your job is to keep an eye on Trap. This project is too important to botch if his ego gets in the way."
"Yes, Sir," she replied, but he already looked distracted by something on his monitor. A small yellow button flashed on his desk, and he pressed it. At his signal, the doors opened and three men she recognized from the Special Ops division entered the office.
"That's all, Shira," Gorudo dismissed her as he turned his sharp gaze on the newcomers. "Our guest should be up by now. He's in Wing E, unit six. Bring him something to eat, but sedate him before you open the door. All three of you, and don't let your guard down. I won't have him running loose in my building," he said flatly.
Shira had left slowly enough to hear their brief conversation, and she had to speed up to keep from being trampled as the men turned to leave with her. Three S.O. soldiers to feed one prisoner?
Wing E, she thought as they all piled into the elevator. Wing E was on the eighteenth floor; her work was on the twelfth. She stood quietly in the corner as the car stopped at their floor. One of the men entered the access code for the floor, and the doors slide open. Once the men filed out, the doors closed again and the car began its descent to her level. She stared at the doors, very still.
The car stopped, and opened. Her floor. She looked out at the hallway, but didn't move. Her curiosity was too strong. She wanted to know what was up there. A few motionless seconds later, the doors closed again, and she stood in an empty elevator with no destination.
She looked at the row of buttons and gathered her nerve. She just wanted one look. If they asked why she was there, she could make up an excuse.
However, before she touched anything, the light for floor 18 lit, and the elevator shifted into motion.
Shira's stomach tried to climb up her throat. How could they have finished so quickly? How would she explain why she was still in the elevator? She jerked her hand to the control board and mashed the buttons for the intermediate floors between 12 and 18. She would just get out before their stop.
The buttons lit up normally, but the car did not stop. It bypassed the other floors and proceeded straight to level 18. She stared at the switchboard in astonishment. How was that even possible? Now, not only was she still in the elevator, but she'd have to explain why she was standing in an empty car with 5 levels pushed. Frustrated, she rapped her nails on the marble wall and waited for the door to open. Oddly, it was taking several seconds. She wondered if the S.O. thugs had actually forgotten their password. Rolling her eyes and wanting this over, she rapped her access key into the security panel and let the doors open.
The moment the panels slid aside, she made eye contact with the strangest thing she'd ever seen in her life. He had one hand poised over the keypad outside the elevator, apparently in the middle of something, but his sharp violet eyes were staring straight at her. Despite the enormous wings poised warily behind him, the eyes were the thing she couldn't stop staring at. Oddly, he seemed as confused by her presence as she did by his.
"Oh. Thanks," he said, casting her a friendly but alert grin as he abandoned what he was typing on the access panel and stepped into the elevator.
Shira flattened herself to the wall, staring at him in astonishment. "Black Wings," she breathed, trying not to act like she was looking at the most beautiful person she'd ever seen.
Dark glanced over his shoulder. "Wow, you're right. Or a very dark grey," he said in mock amazement. He looked back at her. "I thought this car was empty." The gates closed behind him, and he moved to stand in the corner next to the door.
Shira was about to ask him why he would think the car was empty, but then remembered how she'd let it sit idle for some time at level 12. Had he been following that on the access panel? "Did you reprogram this elevator to override the other floors?" she demanded, disbelief knitting her eyebrows together. She tried to remember if she was carrying her pistol, and she wasn't sure what would happen if she reached into her belt to check.
"A little. Do me a favor and unglue yourself from the wall. I'm trying to lay low here." The winged man tilted his chin up toward the tiny camera lens built into the wall above his head. It could see her, but he was in its blind spot. She hadn't even noticed the deviced before, and she couldn't remember him looking for it when he entered the elevator.
"That's not possible," she said firmly.
Dark raised his eyebrows. "Afraid of small spaces?" he offered.
"Not my posture, you idiot," she snapped. "Reprogramming the elevator."
"But I'm pretty sure I just did," Dark mused, typing in a sequence of numbers on the access panel that was too long to be a passcode. The car slid into motion, but none of the levels were lit.
"This elevator is smarter than I am," she protested.
"Well, we know where you and I stand then," he smirked.
Shira glared and stepped away from the wall, looking ready to punch him.
Dark crossed his arms at her aggressive stance. "It's an improvement, but that's not exactly inconspicuous either."
"I'm not here to help you," she snarled. "You escaped from Wing E. Do you know how many people are looking for you right now? When we leave this elevator, there will be an armed squadron waiting for you." It was a bluff, she knew. If what Gorudo said was true, there might be only a handful of staff in the entire building that were even alerted that the Black Wings was here.
"An armed squadron? Really? At every floor?" the angel asked teasingly.
"We only need one floor to keep you from escaping," she sneered.
"The ground floor."
"Yes."
"Two problems with that logic. First, as you wisely observed, I have wings." He looked amused as he watched it sink in. "Second, who says I'm trying to leave the building?"
"What else would you want? And where are we going?"
"We're just moving up and down to kill time. And I was hoping you could tell me," Dark said with his most charming smile. "Someone important to me is missing. I think he's here, and I need to find him."
Shira's eyes widened with recognition. He was looking for Daisuke Niwa. She'd known the boy was connected to this…being in front of her, but for the first time she wondered exactly how. "What will you do if you find him?" she asked quietly.
"Help him, if I can," he said honestly. Something more real was in his eyes now, a desperate urgency that made him seem slightly vulnerable. "First and foremost, I need to know that he's safe."
"You think he's dead?" she asked, testing to see how much he knew. She regretted her wording a little when it made his face darken.
He fought to keep his expression calm. He wanted her help. "I don't know. I am hoping he's here."
"Why would he be here?"
He frowned and looked at her very seriously, wondering how much she knew. "Probably because of me," he said quietly. "Miss…?"
"Shira," she said flatly.
"Shira, this isn't my style, but I don't have a lot of time. Do you know who I'm talking about?"
She studied him. "No."
"Do you know where he is, Shira?" he demanded again.
"Certainly not. Now if you don't mind, if I'm found chatting with you in an elevator, I'll lose more than my job."
Dark leaned back against the corner, his wings fanning around him. He took a deep breath. He'd ruined enough lives in the last few days; he didn't need to take this fiery woman down with him too. It would take longer without an inside source, but he was an expert. He could find out about Daisuke on his own. "Where do you want to get off," he asked her coldly.
"I work on level 12. Research floor, no windows. Your wings won't help you escape there." she said.
Dark studied her cautiously. "Why the random information? And what makes you think I'm getting off with you?" His right hand fingered a code into the console and the car reversed direction.
"Well, just that if you're trying not to escape, the floor with no windows seems pretty reasonable to me," she snorted as they came to a stop. "But since you're smarter than this elevator, I suppose I'll let you figure it out." She smirked at him.
"I suppose that makes sense," he said with a growing smile as the doors opened to level 12. "Thanks, Shira."
She looked at him sternly as she passed him. "Don't thank me. The moment I leave this car, I'm calling security," she snapped, and headed left out of the stall.
"Of course," he chuckled, and headed in the opposite direction.
~oOoOo~
To be Continued
Well! After a stage of extreme writer's block, I'm back in business. Next chapter: Dark finally meets Daisuke, but not all goes as planned; Gorudo's men get to try to track down a stray phantom thief with a frustrating sense of humor; and, of course, Krad gets to know miss Midnight (mua ha ha).
As always, please let me know your thoughts/suggestions!
-Kat
Shout outs!
Relena – Thank you as always for the review! I would love to read your stories, although I don't know much about the shows… I have seen a few episodes of DBZ, so I'll give that one a try in the next few days! Some shows seem to have a bigger review turnout on than others, and even then, certain genres may be dominant over others for those shows, so keep going!
Stormshadow13 and CelloSolo 2007 – I hereby promise more Krad next, and he will most certainly be dominated (cackles maniacally).
Dark Rose – On the same note, I promise that the situations in the upcoming chapters will be driven by plot and character development and not by empty titillation, so please don't be afraid of a lemon (as much as I might be tempted). This isn't to say that they won't be suggestive or, to a modest extent, explicit at times.
Animeannie – Hi! I am so glad you found the story and I hope you keep reading! Thanks for your wonderful reviews! Krad does actually have his wings. Superfast explanation: When Dark and Krad first broke their seal using their combined powers, Krad came out of the spell first, whole and intact. However, intentionally or not, he then lost concentration on the spell, which left Dark stranded and resulted in the 'bug' that caused Dark's wings to grow incorrectly when his mortal body formed. Because Dark was spawning pair after pair of wings when the spell went out of control, Krad deigned to keep the spell from draining Dark dry by ripping the wings off. Since it hurt like a bitch, Dark was able to refocus and finish the spell, but the wings he managed to make for himself in that state aren't working out too well for him at the moment.
Sokyl – Thank you so much for the review! I also can't wait to write Krad's interaction with Midnight. He's such a stoic and introverted character that it may take something like this that's against his will to force him into some character development, which I am extremely psyched for.
Bansheegrrl – Your enthusiasm is such a wonderful motivation, thank you always for your kind reviews!
Lorret – Thanks for being the straw that broke the back of the camel that was my writer's block. I just found your review in my inbox the other day, and thought "I guess it's time to kick myself in the rear and do this." You totally said the right thing at the right time!