A/N: I used Doctor Dressler from the reissued manga, volume 4, pages 116-117. Of course, 0010 to 0013 start making their appearances here. I've twisted them some, but you should recognize them in a lineup.
Young Offender, Part 9:
She had never once felt nervous over Jean-Paul's flying. He had taken her up hundreds of times, but she felt panicky now. It was pitch black outside the small cargo plane's windows. She looked behind her; she was in the co-pilot's seat. Ivan sat cross-legged on the floor. Albert sat next to him. Jet was lying on the floor in front of them; he was wrapped in a small, wool blanket.
They had all been so silent during the trip. It was another reason she felt panicky. Jean-Paul was always happy-go-lucky and always striking up a genial conversation. Jet was also a talkative person. Not a word came from them; then again, Jet was struggling to breathe. Ivan didn't project any thoughts into her head, either.
She watched Jean-Paul fiddle with the controls and push the yoke forward. She knew enough to know that Jean-Paul was starting to land the plane. She settled in the seat beside him and closed her eyes as the plane bumped slightly with touchdown. The engines came to a halt.
"We're here. This is an old, abandoned airstrip. The new one is now thirty miles away, nearer Basel. The hanger doesn't have electricity, but it does have running water. It does have a dormitory with several beds."
Jean-Paul and Albert helped Jet upright and took him out of the plane. Francoise followed with Ivan by her side. He still carried the wretched suitcase with their uniforms and weapons. They walked upstairs to the wide open dormitory located over a massive hanger bay. It had ten cots and several footlockers. Francoise could smell the dust and slight mold.
She watched Jean-Paul and Albert settle Jet on the first cot by the door. Jean-Paul quickly found a large, green, metallic square and turned the knob at the top and there was a beam of light. "Aww... great!" he said, with a large, delighted smile. "The Swiss Army still builds the best stuff. This flashlight has to be ten years old. Still works!"
"Yeah... well why couldn't the Black Ghost have hired them to make my guts?" Jet mumbled, then coughed.
Jean-Paul angled the light to the best position so they could see the small corner of the room where Jet was resting. He fastened the thick, leather strap to the head of the bed securely and crouched by Jet. "You, mon amie, look horrible." He looked up to Albert and asked, "How do we fix this fellow up?"
"Don't know. We have one contact, but he's in the Black Ghost," Albert answered.
"It's not like he can come and fix us on a moment's notice, not without giving us away." Francoise knelt beside Jet's cot; she gingerly touched his forehead. "Amazing. He feels clammy." She was surprised Jet still had normal, physical reactions.
"We do have some flesh, still. We can feel pain, and we aren't totally invincible," Ivan explained. He stood at the foot of the cot and stared down at Jet. "When I projected to you to grab Francoise and run, I didn't mean for you to take that kind of risk. It's troublesome to get repairs." Ivan chastised.
Jet raised his left arm, but it flopped down right before he could finish his obscene hand gesture. Francoise watched his eyes droop shut. She was happy he seemed to be drifting off. One, she never like to see a person suffer. For two, he couldn't run his mouth if he were asleep.
Albert started to pace a little with a furrowed brow. "We'll have to figure a way for us to get more educated about our physiology. This probably won't be the first time, so we need to have back-up plans."
"Herr Heinrich?" Ivan swirled around and watched the pacing man. Albert's eyebrow quirked in silent inquiry, but he didn't pause pacing. "There is also Doctor Kozumi."
"It's around midnight. That means it's morning in Japan; he'll be teaching. We can't exactly go and bring attention to him. The Black Ghost may be watching him. Also, there is the problem of bringing him all the way here," Albert said.
"You're right about the attention on Kozumi, and getting him here is troublesome. I thought about teleporting him, however, I expended too much capital energy getting Natalie home and altering her memories. She was... unexpectedly difficult." Francoise felt dread at Ivan's icy tone. In spite of Natalie's betrayal, she still didn't want to see harm come to her. "I could teleport to Japan with what I have left, but I would then have to rest for a while." Albert paused and gave another, wordless, inquiring look at Ivan. He answered, "It would take me, at the very least, a week's worth of sleep."
"That is... troublesome," Albert agreed.
"Kozumi was approached by the Black Ghost, however he rejected them. He wouldn't be the only one. Either Gilmore or Kozumi may know someone close by who may be sympathetic to us," Ivan pointed out.
"It's worth a shot. We'll have to call him from Basel, carefully. Ivan, come with me, you seemed to pick up some Japanese," Albert ordered.
"If Kozumi doesn't know anyone, then I'll read Gilmore's mind. That would be the end of my strength. Let's save that as a last resort."
Francoise's attention turned back to Jean-Paul as he reloaded their father's pistol. Albert paused before leaving the dormitory. Jean-Paul waved them on and said, "We'll take care of ourselves. Don't worry."
Albert clenched his jaw. He bent over the suitcase and retrieved his ray gun. He nodded towards Jean-Paul, turned, and left. Francoise looked over at Jet and was relieved to see him asleep, with normal breathing and heart rate.
"What if they don't come back?" Francoise asked. Jean-Paul sat by the door to the dormitory, his back leaned against the wall, his arms resting on his knees. He looked up at Francoise; he looked as exhausted as she felt.
He forced on a chipper smile. "That German guy is very bright. He'll be back."
Francoise stood from beside Jet's bed and walked over to one of the narrow, grimy windows. She peeked out to see a bright morning over the Swiss countryside. Small, white flowers dotted the lush, green field. Part of her had the urge to take a walk.
She felt Jean-Paul's hands on her shoulders. "Francoise..."
"No, I don't want to talk about it."
"But I do!"
She gasped, looked over to make sure Jet was asleep, then walked away from Jean-Paul. He followed her to the doorway, down the stairs, and out of the hanger bay. She took a deep breath of the crisp, morning air. She would have enjoyed being in the Swiss countryside, if only things were different.
"You need to talk to me, Francoise. You can't run from this."
She turned to look at her brother. "That expression on your face, it's the same as you had at Mama and Papa's funeral."
"I don't want to lose my sister, too."
She sighed, shook her head, and walked towards the field. She sat on the ground. Jean-Paul flopped down beside her, edelweiss all around them.
"I'm so confused, sometimes. I don't understand what this is going to mean to me or for the rest of my life. Jean-Paul, I can't age any longer. I knew I couldn't stay in one place for a long time, but I still want a chance to live out my life, the life I had planned. I still want to dance and to have a family one day. I want to spend our holidays together. I'm just so afraid. Mostly, I'm afraid of the Black Ghost catching us and forcing us to work for them. It was a horrible nightmare I couldn't wake up from. What if they never leave us alone?"
Jean-Paul absently plucked grass and small, white flowers. "So that's who kidnapped you? The Black Ghost? I don't know what all this will mean for you, yet, but I will make sure you never have to go back to that horrible place again." Jean-Paul's expression grew dark, he whispered, "Let me ask you this, do you believe Natalie is right? That they committed murders?"
Francoise had been pushing that thought away from her awareness, but she thought over it carefully, finally shaking her head. "Herr Heinrich is a widower, but it is clear that her death wasn't his fault. I believed he really loved her and whatever happened was a tragedy for both of them. I haven't wanted to intrude on his pain because our relationship is formal, I haven't asked for details because of that reason. It still seems so raw for him.
"As far as Jet? I can't tell you much about his life before I met him other than he was in some very deep trouble right before the Black Ghost took him. He won't reveal what it was. Deep down, I do think he has a good heart, even though he isn't exactly a pleasant person." She shook her head with a frown. "I'd be hard pressed to believe he killed anyone."
Jean-Paul nodded. "They both seem like victims of circumstance."
She was silent as she contemplated Jean-Paul's handsome face. It struck her how he was in danger now. Just being around her could kill him. She didn't give voice to her thoughts, because she could predict his denials and his staunch insistence on helping protect her. However, she realized this problem was larger than some schoolyard bullies picking on her. Her older brother couldn't confront the Black Ghost and chase away her problems.
Francoise heard a creaking noise coming from the dormitory. She smiled and said, "Jet is up. He shouldn't be moving around so much."
"How do you know?"
"My senses are all enhanced. I can hear and see things at great distances."
Minutes later Jet slowly stumbled out, looking groggy. His right arm hung useless at his side, but he seemed able to function. Jet gingerly sat in front of Francoise and took as deep a breath as he could.
"This sucks. When are sauerkraut and the ankle-biter coming back?" He wheezed and let out a stifled cough.
"We don't know. Soon, we hope. They took the beat-up old sedan in front of the strip last night. I hope it held up. They've been gone for almost nine hours," Jean-Paul answered.
"Aww, that cat'll be back; he definitely has nine lives. I ain't worried, because I think he only lost one." Jet fished around the jacket draped over his shoulders and took out a cigarette. He tried lighting it, but ended up gagging horribly. He glowered at it, ground it out, and looked at them after he regained his breath. "That's it. I quit."
"Probably a good thing," Francoise said. He rolled his eyes at her. She was about to argue with him over his negative attitude.
"Hey!" Jean-Paul jumped up, tugging Francoise with him. "We should do something productive while waiting for them. Help me do a post-flight check."
"But I don't know anything about planes."
"I know. Come on," he said, pulling her with him. She looked over her shoulder to see Jet following, a lop-sided smile on his face.
Ivan replaced the phone on the cradle and shook his head at Albert. "Kozumi wasn't aware of anyone in the area. It looks like there is only one choice. I must read Gilmore's mind."
"But won't that knock you out?" Albert asked, glancing around the lobby of a small hotel on the edge of Basel.
"I'll be as thrifty as possible."
Albert watched the boy close his eyes. He could see a faint glow under the right eyelid. He turned his back and kept a wary lookout. Several minutes later, he felt a tug at his elbow. He looked at Ivan who was dabbing under his nose with a bloodstained handkerchief.
"I was fortunate. I took control of Gilmore and was able to look at the personnel itinerary of some of the Black Ghost contributing scientist. There is a Doctor Otto Dressler lecturing at a nearby university. He's due to leave town tomorrow morning. I wasn't able to find anyone closer."
"Fine, we'll pay a visit to Herr Doktor and persuade him to visit Jet."
"I don't need telepathy to know what's on your mind. We must be very careful." Ivan gave him a shrewd look. "I didn't think you had it in you, the willingness to kidnap."
"I'm still deciding on that," Albert claimed. "That little donkey needs help, and I'm going to get it for him."
Albert sat at the back of the lecture hall, listening to Doctor Dressler give a speech on increasing crop growth and some of the progress he had made with a formula. Albert found himself baffled by this man. On one hand, he was a Black Ghost researcher. On the other hand, the man seemed sincere about solving the world's hunger issues.
Albert looked down at his gloved hand and flexed his fingers. His first instinct was to try to talk to the man honestly and ask for his help. After all, Gilmore was sympathetic. He unfurled his fingers; the creaking leather was barely audible.
He just couldn't assume this man would be sympathetic, not for Jet's sake. All of their lives could be affected by misplaced trust on Albert's part. He just wouldn't risk their freedom. They were all relying on him. His mind drifted to Hilda saying to him, "I know you'll get me safe and sound to the West. Then we can live together again. Oh, Albert, I have faith in you."
His eyes jerked up when light applause started. He was grateful he didn't have to endure the rest of the memory. He grew single-minded and tamped down his emotions. He stood and waited as Dressler shook hands and chatted with students. He followed the man out the back of the lecture hall. Albert was careful to make sure no one followed him.
Dressler rounded a corner, Albert followed and called out, "Herr Doktor!"
The young doctor turned and raised an eyebrow. "Yes, can I help you?"
Albert slipped his ray gun out of his pocket. "You'll be coming with me tonight."
"What? I recognize that ray gun. You're a Black Ghost agent? Why are you pointing that at me?" The man's voice was barely a whisper.
"Get a move on." Albert jerked his head towards a nearby door. He walked behind the man. He gave him a few directions to the car where Ivan waited.
"Very good, mon amie. You pick up things quick," Jean-Paul gushed with a giant, charming smile.
Francoise, who was sitting behind the cockpit of the cargo plane, stifled a giggle at Jet's strange scowl. Jet didn't seem to take compliments very well at all. He seemed suspicious of them, but she didn't know why. Jet started fiddling around with a knob on the control panel, a distinct air of aggravation surrounded him. He was being way too quiet for his normal self.
"Who knows when flying an actual plane can come in handy?" Jet finally mumbled tensely.
Jean-Paul wasn't put off at Jet's slightly hostile vibe. He flashed Jet a huge smile and smacked him on the left shoulder. "Good job! You know, you're a natural at flying. You should get some serious training and become a pilot when you get back home."
Francoise wondered if it was her imagination, but were Jet's cheeks flushed? Was he sweating? Why was he giving her friendly brother even deeper scowls? Jean-Paul was as clueless as always, when someone was being standoffish. He pressed on with his genial nature as he gave further instructions. Jet took them in, but seemed so incredibly stiff.
"Someone is coming. I hear a car," Francoise said, shaking Jean-Paul's shoulder. The blond man leaped out of the cockpit and drew his pistol.
"You two stay here. Jet, take off with Francoise if it looks like trouble. You know enough to do that much. There should be enough fuel to get you over those hills. You can run for it there."
Jet nodded and grabbed Francoise's wrist when she tried to follow her brother. She crouched behind Jet's co-pilot seat and concentrated. The car parked. She could hear Albert say, "Here we are. Don't give me any trouble, Herr Doktor."
"It's them, Jet! Come on." She helped Jet out of the cockpit. He slumped against her awkwardly, especially since he was almost a foot taller than her.
To be continued.