Young Offender, Part 44:
"If we can get him, we can get more leverage with the Double Zero Cyborgs, and then, the other members of the Merchants of Death," Takuma said, picking up his suitcase. "Jean-Paul Arnoul is the key."
"I lured them successfully once. They're going to be leery," Hitomi warned her brother as he turned to board an airplane. "Don't underestimate them. I'll call Erika tomorrow."
"No, not yet. It's bad enough Doctor Uranus knows. He's being difficult to deal with. I had to make promises about bringing him 003 first if he would report what he knows to the Black Ghost," he said. "It could undercut our leverage if there's one rumor leaked to them. Keep your eyes on him."
Her lips twisted into a wry semblance of a smile. "If you don't catch them by the end of the month, I'll call Erika."
Takuma pressed his lips together tightly and nodded. She wasn't going to give him any room for failure. But then again, she never respected failure; rightly so, in his mind. He turned and got on the plane; three of Hitomi's hired goons were already waiting. Dressed in black suits, they'd surely stand out among the war-torn Korean landscape.
He dusted off his own camouflage jacket before sitting down. He exhaled slowly as the plane took off. Soon, they could leverage their electronic empire into real power and make the Shimamura name feared around the world.
"Welcome, Mr Shimamura. It's an honor to meet you," the French captain greeted Takuma, after leaving the large tent in the middle of a medical encampment. Takuma looked around at the dingy surrounding. The French army camp was a blur of mud, drab olive, and galvanized metal. It was one of many that littered the South Korean landscape at this time. Each encampment had a different nationality, but they always seemed the same: dirty and dilapidated.
"The honor is all mine, Captain Dupont. Our conversation over the phone gives me great hope for my mission," Takuma said, plastering fake warmth across his face, enough to put his sister to shame. His story to Captain Dupont was as fake as his warm smile. It'd taken him several days to find his real target, but easy enough when the pilot was bold and as heroic as Jean-Paul Arnoul.
"Ah... yes... I believe we can fill your request. Especially, for such a good cause."
"Yes. The Americans are making inroads. The radar jammer my company developed should increase their effectiveness, and it will save many soldiers' lives," Takuma said, used to being a consummate sales man.
"Yes! And that is a worthy cause!" Dupont was enthusiastic.
Takuma turned slightly and waved his sister's goons to follow when Captain Dupont lead them towards his office, which was actually a small tent on the edge of the camp. "My men already put the equipment at the landing pad. We're ready to go."
"Usually, it is a hardship to release one of my pilots for so long. You understand, they fly the wounded away from harm's way. That's why time is of the essence. You'll have the Lieutenant back soon?"
"Yes, sir. I'll release him after our task is done," Takuma promised.
"By the way," Captain Dupont said, slowing his pace slightly. "You specifically requested Arnoul?"
"Oh yes. My sister told me about his work doing a flying show when she visited France once. She was very impressed. She heard his name mentioned by a French reporter and told me about him."
"Oh! Isn't she Hitomi Kitagawa?"
"You've heard of her? She'll be very flattered."
"I'm a huge admirer of hers. I saw her last film when I was on leave in Tokyo. If I can be so bold, she's a very lovely woman. Very charitable, too, from what I understand."
"Thank you so much," Takuma said, not surprised at the compliments lavished on Hitomi. She took great pains to maintain her image. This war was spreading her name to an international community. That image would benefit his company's image in the long run.
"Arnoul is a great pilot. He'll make sure you get there safely." The captain opened the door to his stuffy office, where a very tall, blond man leaned against a filing cabinet. He was dressed in a leather jacket and khaki clothing. He straightened up quickly and gave Takuma a friendly grin.
"Lieutenant Arnoul, this is Mr Shimamura. He's the gentleman who requested you fly him to an American unit to the north of here. Uijongbu, towards the front line."
"It'll be my pleasure, sir," Jean-Paul Arnoul answered with an enthusiastic nod.
"And make sure he gets back safely," Dupont said with a friendly reminder and a finger pointed in the air.
"When would you like to leave, sir?" Arnoul asked Takuma.
"Right away," Takuma answered. He followed Arnoul out towards the landing pad. Takuma's smile became real when he realized how simple this kidnapping had become.
This was new. Jet was used to Europe, America, and Australia, but Korea had a distinctly different air about it than he was used to. Also, the war added another layer of confusion. It was thanks to this, a joint United Nations police action, that allowed Francoise, Albert, and him to fake credentials as international photo journalists and acquire a jeep and equipment.
The UN troops were from all over the world, so communication was weak and easy to manipulate. Jet thought that was good for them, but not good overall. Considering the Black Ghost's goals, this situation played right into their hands.
It had taken them a week to get to Seoul from West Berlin, and five more days to get their bearings. Once that happened, it was easy to find a sympathetic Luxembourg outfit that had dealings with Jean-Paul. They gave directions to a French outfit. The Frenchmen had nothing but heroic things to say about Jean-Paul. He'd formally joined the military and was using his piloting skills to good use. He brought the wounded from the hostile front lines.
However, they were all discouraged to hear that Jean-Paul had been missing for two days by the time they arrived. Jet was impressed by how calmly Francoise took the news. Now she seemed more determined to find him using the clues left behind.
They ended up two miles outside of Uijongbu on the third day Jean-Paul had gone missing. According to his Captain, Dupont, Jean-Paul was supposed to fly some Japanese businessmen to an encampment of American soldiers to deliver some electronics. The American encampment at Uijongbu had no expectation of a deliver at all, but they had brief radio contact with a French pilot. The three cyborgs left by jeep towards the north, in spite of the French commander's bluster about the war and keeping civilians safe.
That's when Jet could finally see Francoise's anxiety on display. Around dusk, the sky was threatening chilly thunder storms. That was when they heard from a Turkish unit about a small camp of ruthless, Japanese arms dealers. Right away, they went in the direction, located deep in the rocky, Korean hills, in spite of the purpling, cloudy sky and the dire warning of the hardened, Turkish soldiers.
Jean-Paul moaned and awoke from a deep blackness. He gasped, feeling his whole body throb from bruises he'd received over the last three days. He tried moving his thick tongue, but it was plastered to the roof of his mouth by dryness. His left eye was swollen shut, and his right eye took in the lamplight painfully. He couldn't make out anything but the fuzzy shapes of two men.
One of them said something in Japanese. His kidnapper, Takuma Shimamura, strolled over and crouched in front of Jean-Paul's chair. He was handcuffed, but not restrained in the chair. Takuma asked in flawless French, "Are you going to tell us where your sister is?"
"Never! I'd never tell you even if I knew," Jean-Paul snarled. "I don't know where she is! I've told you that over and over!"
"You are a very stubborn man."
"It's the truth!"
"Well, then, it would seem we'll have to be patient and hope to lure her out with you." Takuma stood up and snapped off an order in Japanese. Seconds later, Jean-Paul was yanked up out of the chair and the handcuffs were off. He was then dragged out of the small, olive tent. Lightning flashed across the sky, soon followed by loud claps of thunder.
"Where are you taking me?" he asked to Shimamura, who was leading the group. He turned and gave him an annoyed expression.
"Tokyo. You'll talk there. After all, I'm sure there is some little tidbit you're clinging onto that could assist me in getting the Double Zero Cyborgs."
Jean-Paul was shoved onto the cargo plane he had used to fly them to this spot. He was roughly pushed into the pilot's seat. Takuma Shimamura leaned over Jean-Paul and ordered, "Get us in the air. When we're over Japan I'll give you directions."
Jean-Paul wracked his brain; he noticed the gun tucked in Shimamura's belt. Unfortunately, the thugs all sat on creates towards the back of the cargo hold. Jean-Paul started the plane and guided it down a bumpy, dirt road. The plane lofted into the air just as a drizzling rain started. A flash of lightening glared across the purplish sky. Jean-Paul yanked hard on the yoke of the plane, sending it hurdling upwards, the plane shimmied at the acceleration.
He took the chance and leaped from his seat and at Shimamura, hoping to grab the gun since the man was stumbling backwards towards the stunned and sprawled thugs in the back of the cargo hold. Shimamura's knee sunk into Jean-Paul's stomach, winding him. One of the thugs grabbed Jean-Paul from behind while another crawled towards the pilot's seat.
"Toss him!" Shimamura ordered as the plane leveled out, thanks to the thug at the controls. The Japanese man yanked open the side door to the cargo hold; the thug dragged Jean-Paul towards the howling, windy sky. He struggled, but the third thug was on him now. They forced him to the opening and shoved him, his balance tilted and he was pulled out of the plane, towards the earth below.
"Albert, stop!" Francoise shouted over the howling wind and the jeep's engine. He pulled over and looked over to what she was staring at.
"An airplane? We must be close," Albert said, and looked over to his right, where she sat. He could tell she was in deep concentration. Suddenly, the plane shot upwards and then drifted aimlessly, dangerously. She grabbed his hand and shook it.
"It's him! Jean-Paul is up there... Oh no! He's falling!" She screamed and jumped out of the jeep. Albert squinted, but couldn't see anything through the start of the rain and darkened, dusk sky.
A blinding flash and intense heat came from the back seat of the jeep too quick for Albert to say a word. He got out and stood by Francoise, while watching Jet's boosters streak across the sky towards the leveling plane.
"Come on, Jet, you can do it," Albert murmured over and over, clenching Francoise's shoulder with his gloved hand.
Jet couldn't think. His mind was focused on one thing: Jean-Paul! Rain soaked him. The sky was impossibly dark. Occasional flashes of lightning helped. Jet kept flying towards the tumbling man until, finally, he flung his arms wide and felt the solid thud of Jean-Paul against his right shoulder.
He slowed his boosters, started to hover in the middle of the sky, and struggled to get a comfortable hold on Jean-Paul. Jet could tell, even in the dark, Jean-Paul's face was bruised up. Jet looked above him and saw the plane was now slowly circling around back towards them. He could make out two men hanging from the side, machine guns at the ready.
Jean-Paul shook his head and looked around towards the ground, thunderstruck, and then clung to Jet tighter, realizing what had just happened.
"Jet? What's going on?! Francoise?"
The whine of the planes engine approaching caught Jet's attention. He turned and attempted to head back towards his companions, but a rain of bullets stopped his approach. The plane was faster than Jet had anticipated and worked itself in between him and the other two cyborgs. He tried faking them out, but anther hail of bullet skimmed close to them.
Jean-Paul's sudden gasp of pain froze Jet.
"What?" Jet asked, pulling back higher into the sky, further from the other cyborgs.
"I'm hit," Jean-Paul grunted through gritted teeth. The Frenchman tried grappling with his wounded shoulder awkwardly, in spite Jet's firm hold on him. Jet mentally cursed the bad situation as the plane turned to chase them. He kept his cool and refused to panic, but he couldn't come up with a single way to avoid a new spray of bullets.
"Let's scram!" Jet turned away from the plane and head north, flying as fast as he could. He glanced at Jean-Paul's paling complexion and drooping eyelids. "Aw... fuck... she's going to kill me..." Jet murmured to himself as he put more distance between him and the hostile plane. Unfortunately, it was putting distance between them and help.
Kozumi sighed and pulled away from the microscope. He put his glasses back on and turned on the stool boosting him up at the laboratory table. He cleared his throat, getting the attention of the other two scientists across the room. They stopped stooping over the unconscious Russian cyborg on the surgical table and gave him weary looks.
"It's not what I told you. It's much worse than what we first thought. His body is rejecting Dressler's formula that was giving him in hopes he'd grow to maturity at a rapid pace. There's is nothing I can do to stop the process. He's going through a decline we can't reverse."
"Are you sure?" Gilmore said, horsely as he looking down at Ivan.
"The cancers are all over his body. He'll be dead by the end of the year if we don't do something. Apparently, Dressler's formula can work on most people, but not all. Some times, it must create this reaction."
"Plus, his brain is showing no activity, whatsoever," Kaminari said in agreement. "It's not just a simple coma or something of that nature, Gilmore."
"No! We have to save him!" Gilmore insisted. "I will not let this child die. Surely, there is something, some key, to stopping this."
Kozumi hunched over, fist against his chin, thinking. "There is no way to maintain this. We have to find a way to halt it and cure the cancer."
Silence was heavy in the stuffy laboratory only lit by the dawn light. "So... we have to find a way to get Dressler here to tell us what's in his formula?" Gilmore finally asked. "Fine! We can do that. What about 001, then? Clone his body parts? There is enough genetic material."
"Or we could turn him into a machine," Kaminari supplied.
"If that saves him," Gilmore said, as if seizing on a last hope.
"No!" Kozumi shouted. "That's not what we should do. What kind of quality of life would he have. Think, Isaac! Giuseppe, this isn't the way. Besides, I still have some research Otto and I worked on. I noticed his handwork with an artificial pituitary gland."
"Well, we have no way, no equipment to reconstruct a biological body for him. It would cost a bloody fortune and take years with the equipment we do have," Kaminari pointed out, flinging his hand towards Ivan's inert body.
"We take it slowly and stop this accelerated growth causing his illness. Neutralize the hormones Otto used. Let's not build another body, yet. Let me have a shot at deconstruction. I think I can do it." The other two scientists were obviously reluctant at Kozumi's suggestion, but said nothing. "Try it my way. We have nothing to lose. If I'm wrong, we'll go your way, transfer him into a machine. I'll contact Otto, subtly, and try to figure out a way."
Gilmore nodded and ran his hand through his hair. "Okay, but do not... do not... let Dressler know a thing! I don't want to see 001 go through any more trauma."
To be continued.