Chapter 20: Responsibilities

"You think I am brave because I carry a gun? Well, your fathers are much braver because they carry responsibility: for you, your brothers, your sisters, and your mothers. And this responsibility is like a big rock that weighs a ton. It bends and it twists them until finally it buries them under the ground." - Bernardo O'Reilly, The Magnificent Seven

How?

That one word had been repeating over and over again in Bishop's head ever since that day.

"How?" He'd asked the commander from behind a clenched jaw, taking a threatening step closer to the man's desk. No doubt he had armed goons ready to rush to the rescue, but they'd be too slow to save their boss if Bishop was being toyed with.

"That is not for you to know." He removed his hands from in front of his face and stood, his dark eyes at the same level as the pilot's own. "…All I require from you is your loyalty when the time comes."

"And what time would that be?"

"You'll know."

Before Bishop could say anything further, a pair for black-suited agents silently appeared on either side of him. A tiny motion from one of the commander's gloved hands, and they had him by the elbows and were leading him back toward the elevator. He was too dumbfounded to resist.

How?

"Arrow, this is base, join the circuit downwind. Arrow one is clear to land." The controller's voice crackled in his ear, snapping his wandering mind back into focus, at the controls of his Avenger for the first time in the few days since the meeting. "Watch the wind shear, it veers to 210 degrees at around 2,000 feet."

"Clear to land, arrow one." He banked the aircraft to the south as it passed over Tokyo-3's western ridge, following the shore of lake Ashi and applying airbrakes to bleed off speed. Behind him, the other two aircraft in the flight fell back into a line astern formation, continuing on above him as he slowed and descended to remain in the circuit and wait their turn to land.

Looking over his right shoulder, he confirmed that the landing strip across the lake was clear of vehicles, and that the approach lights were on. Passing over the southern tip of the lake, he eased his mount into a gentle left U-turn, now slow enough to drop the gear, flaps and arrestor hook, and lined up on the stretch of highway. It'd become reflex by now, a good thing seeing as his mind was not entirely present.

He knew he was being manipulated. He knew the commander was lying, that there was no way he could bring back the dead.

You've seen plenty of other impossible things here. What if there's a one in a million chance that he's telling the truth? Wouldn't you do anything, anything at all for a one in a million chance to get her back?

Much as he tried to convince himself otherwise, he knew that he would.

"Five hundred."

Bitchin' Betty, the automated female voice that relayed warnings from the aircraft's systems to the pilot, informed him that he had just descended through 500 feet. His eyes shifted to a rectangular grid of lights on the hillside beside the highway. They indicated his proximity to the required glide path for a successful landing. He saw more red than white lights, meaning he was too low, and applied a bit more power until they again showed an equal mix of white and red. As usual, there was a brisk crosswind blowing up the hillside off the lake, and he kicked in a boot full of left rudder to compensate.

"One hundred." Betty informed him curtly, his cue to apply a slight amount of back pressure to the stick, ensuring the main wheels touched down first.

"Fifty. Forty. Thirty. Twenty. Ten."

SLAM.

The main wheels touched down hard with a squeal of rubber on asphalt, and he advanced the throttles to full afterburner in preparation for an emergency take off if he missed the wires. It wasn't one of his better landings, and the hook passed over all but the very last arrestor cable, barely catching and rapidly slowing the jet to a stop in spite of the immense thrust from the engines.

Well, if you can walk away, it was good enough, he consoled himself for his sloppy flying as he throttled back to idle. He hit the switch to raise the arrestor hook, and now free of the wire he taxied a short distance down the road to where the forest opened up to the right. A ground crewman was there, who directed him onto the narrow taxiway leading into the mountain.

This part was always surreal, passing from the bright daylight into the underground tunnel, millions of tons of solid rock now between the steel bird and sky it loved so much. The tunnel was lit all down its length by harsh orange lights, running for about 75 metres before they ended at the start of the elevator shaft. He slowed the aircraft to crawl as he neared the metal platform, and with a slight bump eased the wheels forward until the jet's entire 80-foot length was on board. One of the ground crew waiting there slashed a finger across his throat, and following the signal he shut down the engines and slumped back in the seat with an exhausted sigh.

It was just a training flight, leading a few of his rookie pilots through a series of practice attack dives, but he was still as mentally drained as he could ever recall being.

With a heavy jolt, the elevator began its three minute ascent to the hangar, following a diagonal path that more or less coincided with the slope of the mountain somewhere above. The huge platform was originally used for hauling freight between the storage complex and the road, and needed no modification to fulfill its present purpose, a huge selling point in convincing NERV's bean counters of the cost-effectiveness of turning the warehouse into an airbase.

The ground crew attached the ladder, and after freeing himself from his harness he clambered down and greeted the chief with a handshake and a warm smile. The ground crew were already working on the jet, checking for anything that may have been damaged on the sortie and preparing it for the next one.

"Sokov and I are taking over the alert at 1600 hours," he informed the chief, removing his helmet and checking his watch. At any given time, two jets were kept armed and two pilots were present at the base, ready to be airborne within minutes of the order to scramble being given. He and the Russian would start their twelve hour shift in fifteen minutes, relieving Leveque and Lieutenant Nagara.

"…So, may as well get her armed as soon as we're up in the hangar."

"Yes sir." The chief replied curtly, withdrawing a walkie-talkie from his belt and barking orders over it to have a god's arrow dart wheeled out the weapon storage area and readied for loading into the aircraft.

Bishop, meanwhile, found himself gazing idly up into the inky blackness above, the vast elevator shaft unlit save for a pair of floodlights on the platform itself.

"…Sir?" His attention returned to his companion, who fixed him with a concerned look.

"Yes?"

"If you don't mind me saying so…" the chief began, scratching his chin. "…You seem a little distracted today."

"Oh?" Bishop replied with a raised eyebrow. "How's that?"

"Well for one thing, you caught the last wire," he said, referring to his dodgy landing.

"And?"

"You always catch the third wire. Never seen you miss it yet."

The pilot sighed heavily, again looking up as the darkness gave way to bright fluorescent light, a pair of huge steel doors sliding open above them as they neared the hangar deck.

"…It's nothing chief. Wind shear caught me by surprise is all." He clapped his subordinate on the shoulder as the platform emerged out into southwest corner of the busy cavern and jolted to a stop. Immediately, a tug backed onto the elevator and hooked on to the avenger's nosewheel, towing it to its nearby parking spot to be fueled and armed.

"If you say so sir," the chief replied, unconvinced but not willing to pry any further. The two men stepped off the platform, which with its cargo delivered quickly sank back beneath the floor as it began the return trip to pick up the next jet. They were about to part ways, before the chief turned and added "…Oh, one more thing sir."

"What's that?"

"Captain Katsuragi's here, she's waiting for you in your office."

Bishop sighed again, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

"…Of course she is."

"Captain."

"Major."

The man eyed Misato critically as he entered his office, offering a terse greeting as he stepped past her.

"What brings you all the way up here?" He hung his helmet on a hook and stopped in front of the white board mounted on the wall, picking up a marker and making a number of notes on what appeared to be a schedule. "…Bearing in mind that I am extremely busy, I finally have this unit running the way it should be, and I don't have time for whatever nonsense you need my help with now."

She couldn't help but smirk at the pilot's surliness, adopting a deliberately mysterious air as she took a step closer to him, keeping her hands hidden behind her back.

"First of all," she began, "I've been getting complaints from the budgetary office about the amount of jet fuel you guys have been burning with all your training missions..."

Bishop shrugged, not bothering to look over at her. "Flying's a skill like any other, maintaining it takes practice, and you can inform the budgetary office that I'll continue to burn as much fuel as is needed to keep my pilots' skills at the necessary level."

"That's more or less what I said you'd say."

"Okay…" he gave her an annoyed glace. "…So is there some reason you're here that couldn't have been in an email?"

"Hmph." She pouted haughtily, removing the small gift bag she held in one hand from behind her back and dangling it in front of his face. "If you're gonna be like that, then maybe I'll just keep this."

The pilot looked at the frilly pink bag and raised an amused eyebrow. "…If that's for my birthday, you're about four months late."

"Just open it, jackass."

He took the bag and withdrew the object within, his amused expression quickly giving way to one of confusion.

"Uhh…"

"It's a Maneki-neko!" She exclaimed with a broad grin, watching expectantly as he inspected the small porcelain figure, which depicted a seated black-and-white cat with one paw holding a coin and the other raised in a beckoning gesture. "...It's supposed to bring good luck to its owner."

"Uh huh." He seemed no less confused by her explanation. "And you're giving this to me because…"

She shrugged. "We were up at the hot springs a few days ago and I saw it in a souvenir shop."

"So you saw… this, and you thought of me?" He looked down at the figurine with a raised eyebrow. "Not sure how I feel about that."

"Geez, get over yourself." She rolled her eyes, before taking on a more earnest tone. "…No, I just wanted to get you something to say… to say thank you, for all your help with training the kids." The major's eyes flitted up to her, before quickly returning to figurine, his cheeks taking on a slight tinge of red.

"…And besides," she continued, looking around the drab office. "This place could really use some decoration."

"Well, uh…" he seemed taken aback at that. "That's awfully thoughtful of you, Katsuragi." He poked at the cat's raised paw, a tiny smile crossing his lips when it started swinging back and forth.

"…So, do you like it?"

"Sure I like it. It's… cute, I guess." He placed it on the corner of his desk, facing towards the open door. "…Might undermine my authority a bit, though. Y'know, if someone screws up and I have to bring them in here to yell at them in front of it," He said with a chuckle.

She rolled her eyes at that. "Yeah, well, I just wanted you to know that I really do appreciate all you've done to help us. And even if they don't now, I know the kids will too someday."

He nodded slowly, the hard-as-nails facade cracking for just a moment before he swiftly turned away to take a seat at his desk.

"Thanks, Misato." he said in a choked voice. "It, uh, it means a lot to me to me. Really."

"You're welcome, Robert."

He looked up at her in surprise. "…So, you finally learned my name, huh?"

She chuckled as she replied. "Sure. We're supposed to be a couple, it'd be a little strange for me to keep calling you by your rank."

"Hm." He gave an annoyed grunt at that, directing his attention to the papers on his desk as he deliberately changed the subject. "…Speaking of the kids, how have the little leathernecks been doing?"

She shrugged, taking one of the chairs in front of the desk. "As well as can be expected I guess. They seem to finally be getting along, or at least they've learned to tolerate each other, and I suppose you heard what happened at mount Asama?"

"No…"

"Oh." She thought for a moment, before deciding to spare him the details. "…Well, suffice to say, Shinji put himself in a lot of danger in order to save Asuka from a bad situation without orders to do so. You should have seen him. No hesitation." She shook her head slowly. "It's funny, isn't it? I never could have imagined him doing anything like that when I first met him."

The major nodded idly, not looking up from his papers. "Yeah, well he's had to grow up pretty damn quick."

"Maybe, but it's not just that." She shook her head slowly, fixing her counterpart with a curious look. "…I've been noticing changes in him lately. He's starting to show a little more assertiveness, a little more self-confidence. Asuka still teases him all the time, of course, but he's starting to stand up for himself a little more."

"Good for him."

"And I think," she paused, trying to figure out how to put the real reason she was here. "…I think a lot of it has to do with having a real role model around, someone to look up to for the first time in his life."

He sighed heavily, looking up at her sharply. "…You mean me?"

"I mean you. I know it's asking a lot, but I really wish you would make an effort to spend some time with him."

That drew a snort of derision from the man. "I'm the best role model he can come up with?"

"He's not exactly spoiled for choice."

"Well, what about you?"

"What about me?" Misato shook her head sadly. "I…I try, I really do, but… Well, I'm not sure how good of an example I set sometimes, and Shinji's at an age where he needs to see how a man ought to act, so he can know what kind of man he wants to be."

"And how should a man act, Katsuragi?" The major asked, his voice taking on a dangerous edge. "Like me?"

"I'm not sure…" she began carefully, meeting his eyes. "…I'm not saying you're perfect, but I still think you've been a good influence on him, and he really needs-"

"What?" He cut her off with a hard glare. "A father?"

There was a long, heavy pause before he spoke again.

"...I'm flattered, but... Well, I'm sorry, but that can't be me."

"Why not?"

"Why not?" The major scoffed in disbelief, rising suddenly and pacing beside the desk. "I mean, do you not remember the two weeks I spent going out my way to make his life miserable? He probably wants nothing to do with me."

"You're wrong." She stood as well, crossing her arms. "Despite all that, he still looks up to you. You know he does."

"I'm hardly worth looking up to." He turned away to face the wall. "Look at me. I'm a goddamn wreck of a person who's good for one thing and one thing only, and it's not playing catch or reading bedtime stories."

Misato was taken aback. She had no idea he thought of himself that way. Maybe he and Shinji had more in common than either of them thought.

"…I don't know about that, but that's not how Shinji sees you. To him you're strong, brave… Everything he wants to be but thinks he can't. He doesn't need someone to play catch with, he needs someone to teach him the things you've already started to, intentionally or not. Maybe you aren't everything he thinks you are, but… maybe you could try to be. For his sake."

He didn't answer immediately, still facing away from her, deep in thought.

"…Look, Katsuragi," he began carefully. "There's a reason I'm the best at what I do. It's not just because I have especially good reflexes or eyesight or anything like that. It's because I take chances most people wouldn't, and I can do that because I'm not afraid to die. And I'm not afraid to die because… because I know there's nobody who'll have to grieve over me. Like I had to."

With a heavy sigh, he returned to sit at his desk. "You know I like the kid, and maybe I can do something with him sometime if you think it'll do him some good, but… But I can't go making any sort of lasting attachments here, you understand? This isn't my home, I won't be here forever, and It'll affect my ability to do my job if I know I have that sort of... responsibility."

"You're in charge of all this, aren't you?" She shrugged, gesturing all around. "Wouldn't think you'd have a problem with responsibility."

"It's not the same thing. You know what I mean."

Misato nodded slowly. She knew all too well. "...I understand. I disagree, but I understand." She flashed him a sympathetic smile as she stood to leave, before stopping to add "…I know it's scary, caring about people. But I think the alternative is a whole lot scarier. Think on it."

There was no response as she turned towards the door. To her surprise, it slid open before she hit the button, and her surprise turned to irritation as a familiar stubbled face poked its way through.

"Well, if isn't my favorite power couple."

Kaji wore his usual smirk as he forced his way past Katsuragi into the office. Bishop cast an annoyed look towards the ceiling, cursing some higher power that seemed dead-set against him completing his paperwork, before swiveling his chair to face the visitor.

"…Well, if isn't my favorite time capsule." He decided to fire a shot across the agent's bow. If nothing else, it'd make Katsuragi happy.

"Time capsule?" Kaji looked down at his clothes, cocking an eyebrow.

"Hey, I get it." Bishop raised his hands in a conciliatory gesture. "I was a teenager in the nineties too, I remember when puffy shirts and ponytails were cool, but it's been twenty years pal. Might be time to get a haircut and buy some clothes that fit."

Katsuragi was almost doubled over laughing at that, while Kaji rolled his eyes and returned the good-natured jab in kind.

"Yeah, right. Like I'm gonna start taking fashion advice from a guy who looks like he just stepped out of a black-and-white photo."

Bishop couldn't help but have a chuckle at his own expense. "Fair enough. What can I do for you, Kaji?"

"Actually, it's a matter of what I can do for you." His voice took on a serious edge. "I hear you were in a meeting with the commander the other day."

"Did you now?" Bishop replied evenly as Katsuragi recovered from her laughing fit and turned to look down at him.

"You met with the commander?" She asked, flabbergasted. "…Can't imagine that went smoothly."

"I'm not at liberty to discuss it."

"Yeah, well, my boss feels differently." Kaji interjected

"Katori?"

"Mhmm." He nodded, casting an anxious glance towards the window looking out into the hall. "He hasn't shut up about it since. Apparently he took offense at something you did or said to him in front of the commander, and he does not like to insulted."

Bishop recalled the short argument. He had long since brushed it off, but apparently Katori hadn't.

"…So?" the pilot asked with a shrug. "He's a grown man. If he has a problem with me, he can come tell me so himself."

"You don't understand." Kaji's smirk was gone, the warning tone in his voice giving Bishop pause. "Katori is a spymaster, that's not how he operates. He is also a jealous, petty, spiteful, and incredibly dangerous man. I'm telling you as a friend. Do not cross him."

Bishop sniffed in derision, returning his attention to his work. "I don't have time to play office politics. You can tell your boss I'm sorry I offended him if that'll make him feel better."

"He'll want to hear it from you."

"Oh, I have a few choice words he can come hear from me if he cares to." Bishop looked up, now properly annoyed at the interruption. "Now, if that's all…"

"Alright, I get it…" Kaji backed away, shaking his head. "I'll try and smooth things over. Just… be careful, okay."

"I always am." He looked down to check his watch. A new shipment of god's arrow weapons was supposed to arriving soon, their second restocking since the battle with the angel. He'd put Sokov and the chief in charge of receiving it, but he figured he should probably be there as well, if for no other reason than to escape his two meddling visitors.

"Well, this has been fun," He announced, rising from his desk. "…But unlike some people, I have a job to do that doesn't involve hanging out in other people's offices all day. I'll walk you to the elevator."

Katsuragi was still fixing him with a concerned look as he ushered the pair out into the corridor. "…So, you met commander Ikari, huh?" she said as they walked side-by-side.

"Yep. Charming fellow." Something suddenly occurred to Bishop. "…Wait, his name's Ikari? Any relation to Shinji?"

Kaji and Katsuragi both turned to give him surprised looks. "…You mean you don't know?" Kaji asked

"Know what?"

"Shinji is his son."

"Ah." Bishop nodded slowly, many things suddenly making sense. "A deadbeat dad. Just when I thought I couldn't like the guy any more."

"Robert." Kaji turned to face him as they arrived in the elevator lobby, crossing his arms and taking a stern tone. Hearing his actual name around here was still strange, and it got his attention. "…These are very dangerous people you're now involved with. You need to watch what you say."

"Dangerous people, eh?" Bishop snorted in amusement. "...I've met dangerous people, real ones, and more than a few have tried to kill me. Turns out it's not that easy to do."

"I don't doubt it, but… Just take care, huh?" With a final warning, they shook hands as the doors parted, and Katsuragi surprised him with a kiss on the cheek, a reminder that he was still supposed to be keeping up this ruse.

It was then that a memory flashed through his head, a brief recollection of that drunken night at the sunrise tavern after their successful strike on the angel. Kaji was there, he recalled then, sitting next to a very inebriated Bishop, who had a habit of telling stories that his sober self wasn't supposed to.

"Oh, and uh, Katsuragi…" He said as she stepped onto the elevator alongside Kaji. "…He knows." He gestured to the scruffy man, whose smirk broadened in reply as Katsuragi's face turned beet-red.

He'd timed the confession perfectly, the doors sliding shut just in time to cut off the woman's indignant yelling.

Turning a corner to head towards the hangar, Bishop almost collided with the stout figure of Lieutenant Igor Sokov, who promptly snapped to attention and offered him a salute.

"Hiya Igor." He greeted his subordinate, returning his salute. "That was some fine flying today. We'll make a real fighter pilot out of you yet."

"Yessir. Thank you, sir." He was a short but powerfully built man, whose harsh, almost ape-like features disguised an incredibly sharp mind. He could quote the works of the great Russian authors and poets by heart, and was as talented a musician as he was fearless a pilot. One of Bishop's few clear memories from the night at the sunrise was of Sokov regaling his new comrades with the song of the Volga boatmen, singing in a deep rich baritone while accompanying himself on piano, receiving a deafening round of applause and cheers in return.

He remained sharply at attention as he addressed Bishop in accented English, his stiff manner a remnant of the Russian army's brutal discipline. "…Please to report, sir, that weapon shipment has arrived."

"Excellent. Any problems?"

"Yessir. Chief Miyabe asks me to find you sir, there is… Discrepancy."

"Discrepancy?"

"Yessir. There are… Additional weapons. Weapons other than silver dart."

"Hm." Bishop frowned in thought. "…Must be some sort of mistake, no?"

"Yessir. We tell this to drivers, but they insist delivery is correct, show us manifest that does not match one you gave us. They have already loaded all cargo onto aircraft elevator, it is on way up now."

The Canadian shook his head in annoyance. "Nothing can ever go smoothly around here, can it? Alright, let's go check it out."

"Yessir."

The two pilots made their way quickly to the hangar, entering the cavern just as the elevator emerged from beneath the floor at the far corner, loaded down with a vast assortment of green rectangular metal containers of varying sizes. Most bore bright red warning labels indicating that they contained high explosives. The chief was there waiting, and came jogging over the meet them, angrily waving a clipboard.

"Stubborn bastards!" he spat, handing Bishop the manifest. "I told them a million times that everything other than the darts doesn't belong to us, but they refused to take it back, sir!"

"Take it easy, chief." Bishop switched to Japanese and tried to calm the irate man. "What do we have here that isn't ours?"

"You name it sir. Missiles, bombs, rocket pods, thousands of rounds of thirty-millimeter. Enough for a full loadout or two for each jet, and that's in addition to the darts. It's like they got us mixed up with an actual fighter squadron…"

Bishop nodded slowly. "A fair bit of firepower. Did they say who gave the orders for them to deliver all this stuff?"

The chief shrugged. "Not really. They just said it came down from high command."

"High command, huh…"

There are greater threats than them. Threats from within our own species.

"It's no mistake …" he muttered to himself.

"What's that, sir?"

"Nothing." Bishop shook his head, returning the manifest to the chief. "Well, there's nothing we can do about it now, and we need the elevator clear. Is there enough room in the weapons lockup?"

"Yessir, there should be…"

"Good. Get it all stowed for now, I'll figure out what to do with it later."

"Yes sir." The chief nodded his agreement, raising his voice to bark orders to his crews. "Alright you guys, you heard the boss, let's get this stuff moved!"

Turning away from the frenzy of activity, Bishop dropped his confident smile and swore under his breath. Ikari must have been confident that he'd secured the pilot's loyalty, confident enough to supply him with what seemed like millions of dollars' worth of armaments for use against these mysterious enemies of his.

It all suddenly seemed… Real. It wasn't just idle hypotheticals they were discussing, and the commander seriously expected Bishop to uphold his end of whatever bargain he seemed to believe they'd struck.

Did that mean that Ikari would hold up his end, too?

There was no more time to think on it. Slowly pacing the hangar floor, lost in thought, the pilot suddenly found himself in total darkness.

Thunk.

With a sound like someone throwing a heavy switch, the harsh fluorescent lights lining the ceiling far above suddenly went dark. The ventilation fans, running just fast enough to keep fresh air moving through the cavern, whined to a stop. All around the hangar, panicked shouts started up immediately as everyone in it was suddenly plunged into the sort of Stygian darkness that can only be found deep underground.

"What the hell…" he mumbled, squinting into the darkness. A few flashlights flickered to life here and there, but for the most part nothing could be seen. The shouting was growing louder, accompanied by the sound of equipment clattering to the steel floor as men stumbled around trying to get their bearings.

"Sir?" He heard a calm, Russian-accented voice from nearby.

"Igor!" He called back, headed towards it, nearly bumping into the man who was only a few metres away.

"Power is out?" The Russian asked, seemingly completely unperturbed.

"Seems like it." Bishop nodded, a futile gesture in hindsight. Another crash from somewhere behind them brought his mind sharply into focus, realizing that order needed to be restored before someone got hurt.

"Hey! Everyone listen up! Calm down!" He called uselessly into the dark, not making a dent in the rising chaos.

"QUIET!" Igor's deep voice rang out like a cannon shot from beside him, causing him to nearly jump out of his skin. It did the trick though, as the jumpy ground crews stopped what they were doing and listened.

"Thanks, Igor." He said to the Russian, before raising his voice to address his unseen troops. "…Now, everyone just calm down. We seem to have lost power. I'm sure it'll be back on any minute now, but let's get ourselves organized in case it isn't. If you have a flashlight on you, turn it on and shine it all around. Anyone who doesn't, make your way to the nearest light you can see, slowly and carefully, try and get into groups."

With order restored, flashlights began to flicker throughout the vast space, which seemed even bigger in the dark than it did normally, and people began to congregate around them. Bishop and Sokov made their way to the nearest source of light, which belonged to Chief Miyabe.

"Chief." He greeted him, arriving in the centre of a group of techs gathered around their leader.

"Sir."

"What do you think? Just a simple power outage? Line down maybe?" Bishop figured he'd be better educated on the subject than him.

"No." The grizzled veteran slowly shook his head. "I used to work down in the reactor section back when I first joined NERV. The amount of redundancies and fail-safes in the system… Well, if it hasn't come back on by now, something is seriously wrong."

"Hm. Guess we might be stuck here a while then, the elevator's the only way down."

"Yessir. I suggest we get the tugs running, use 'em for light. The launch bay doors can be opened manually as well, that'll give us some more light and fresh air."

"Good thinking chief." Bishop nodded his approval at the man's resourcefulness. The gas powered aircraft tugs had powerful headlights, and the launch tunnel could provide them with a means of escape if need be. He barked out his orders, and within minutes their small fleet of half a dozen vehicles were fired up and positioned to light as much of the hangar as possible.

He then made his way over to the inner launch doors, where stout ropes had been attached to the huge steel panels. Rolling up his sleeves, he joined a crew hauling away on one side. Each door weighed several tons, and moving them was no small task even with two dozen men pulling on them. Slowly but surely, however, they inched open.

"HEAVE!" He called at the top of lungs

"HO!" Came the response from all around as they threw their combined weights back against the rope.

"One more time, boys! HEAVE!"

"HO!"

With a final haul, the doors slid into their fully open position, locking into place with a heavy mechanical clank.

"Good!" he shouted, "We're halfway done."

He strode confidently into the inky blackness of the launch tunnel, still sealed at the other end, heartened by the sound of dozens of pairs of boots following him. They repeated the process with the outer doors, the men giving a cheer as the first sliver of sunlight peaked through. The air in the cavern was already becoming uncomfortably hot and stuffy without ventilation, and the fresh air that began to make its way in as the door slowly opened was a welcome relief.

Soon, the tunnel was completely open, and edge the steel deck became crowded as those from further back in the cavern made their way towards the sunlight. Looking out over the city, It occurred to Bishop that for the first time he could recall, it was completely still and silent.

"Damn, looks like a total blackout, huh?" he remarked to the chief, standing at his side.

"Yessir. The entire city draws its power from the reactors down in the geofront, same as us."

"...And you say it couldn't have been a system failure or an accident?"

"No sir." The man shook his head firmly. "Like I said, there are redundancies and backups all throughout the power system. A failure at one point or even a dozen points still wouldn't cause the whole grid to collapse like this."

"Hm. Well," Bishop said slowly, and uneasy feeling starting to rise in his chest. "I guess that leaves only one option, doesn't it?"

"Yessir. Sabotage."

My god, is this elevator ever going to get there?

It was normally about a five minute journey from the hangar under the mountain down into the geofront. For Misato, more humiliated than she could ever recall being, it was bound to be the longest five minutes of her life.

She supposed she'd brought this upon herself, but that didn't make Kaji's smug, triumphant smirk any less infuriating.

"Y'know, Katsuragi," he spoke up about a minute or so into the ride. "…There are easier ways to get my attention."

"Shut it."

"Oh come on, you really had to put the poor guy through all that just to make me jealous?"

"Is that what he told you?" She asked menacingly.

"Not in so many words, but that was the implication."

"Yeah, well that's not it at all. You just needed to be threatened into keeping your grubby hands to yourself." She turned away with a harrumph and crossed her arms. She didn't have to look over to know that Kaji's grin only broadened at that. "I figured even you wouldn't be stupid enough to pick a fight with him."

"Oh please." Kaji rolled his eyes. "I saw straight through it from the start. I've seen better acting in porn. Although I have to say, I'm flattered you went through all that effort for my benefit. I must really be on your mind."

"…Shut up."

She continued to fume in silence after that as elevator trundled on, counting down the seconds before she would be freed from this prison and could escape her insufferable cellmate.

There would be no such easy escape.

With a loud thump, the elevator suddenly jerked to a stop, only thirty seconds or so away from salvation. Both its occupants were sent sprawling into a heap on the floor by the sudden deceleration, left in pitch darkness for a terrifying second before the red emergency lighting came on.

"Hey, what the… Get off!" Misato quickly recovered from the shock, realized Kaji had collapsed on top of her, and roughly shoved him away before standing unsteadily.

"Geez, touchy today, aren't we?" Kaji stood as well, rubbing his head where he'd evidently bumped it, watching as Misato desperately hit every button on the panel to try and get the elevator moving again. "…Not sure that'll help, Katsuragi. I think we're stuck."

"No no no no no…" she mumbled forlornly as the gravity of the situation became clear. "I can't be stuck in here! Not with you!"

"You can, and you are for the time being, it seems." He shrugged, flashing her an easy smile. "Now, what can we do to pass the time…"

"Don't even think about it."

"I-" He stopped abruptly, his smile dropping as his head cocked alertly to the side. "…Did you hear that?"

"Hear what?"

"Listen." Kaji put a finger to his lips as Misato strained her ears. At first she heard nothing but the uneasy creaking of the elevator cables somewhere above, but after a moment something else became audible.

Boom.

The deep noise reverberated through the earth and caused the elevator to sway gently.

Boom.

The next one seemed closer, the vibration growing more intense. Soon a pattern began to emerge in the sounds, a loud one accompanied by a slightly quieter one in quick succession.

BOOM boom BOOM boom BOOM boom.

"It sounds kinda like…" Kaji began.

Misato nodded. "Footsteps."

BOOM.

The men gathered at the edge of the launch tunnel stumbled backwards with a collective shout of alarm as a giant, pointy black object suddenly slammed into the mountainside just beyond the opening. Bishop looked on in shock as it lifted off a moment later, slamming down again further down the slope.

I hate spiders. An involuntary shiver ran down his spine as he cautiously returned to the opening and got a good look at the thing clumsily crawling away from them, down the mountain and towards the city. It reminded him of a daddy long-legs; the awkward, gangly arachnids he often found around the farm as a child. It had a comparatively small, black, pill-shaped body covered in strange eye-like markings suspended from four comically long legs. Just like a daddy long-legs, its locomotion seemed more like a drunken stumble than a walk, and he might have a had a laugh at the thing were it not taller than a skyscraper.

"I-is…" The usually unflappable Igor was flabbergasted, stammering nervously as he watched the scene from beside his superior. "…An angel, no?"

"I'd wager so." Bishop nodded slowly, frowning as he realized that there was no response to the intruder from any of the city's defenses. "Say, chief…" He turned to his other companion. "…Can they launch the Evas without power?"

He thought for a second before shaking his head. "I don't see how. They use electromagnetic rails just like us, and the rails need a lot of power to function."

"So there's nothing to stop that thing from doing… Whatever it's here to do?"

"Seems that way, sir."

"…Shit." Bishop swore from between gritted teeth, turning away as an overwhelming wave of anger and despair overcame him. "All this because some asshole somewhere snipped a wire... If we could just power this fucking rail for a few seconds!"

Enraged at his own impotence, the pilot kicked a flashlight someone had dropped. It clattered across the deck and stopped at the feet of a technician, who stepped forward from the crowd of cowed onlookers to address him.

"Um, sir?"

"What is it, Meyer?" Bishop snapped at the rather meek, bespectacled young man, a transfer from NERV's German facility. He was a member of the crew of techs responsible for maintaining the catapult, and gestured down to the rail running through the tunnel.

"…I-I'm not entirely sure sir, b-but I think that we may be able to launch even without power from the geofront."

Bishop's ears perked up at that, and he took a step closer to Meyer.

"How?" he demanded curtly.

"Well," The tech seemed to become more certain as he thought more on it, nodding as he went on." …Powering up the rail takes a lot more electricity than the grid can provide us in one burst, so instead we run the catapult off of huge battery banks under the floor here." He stomped his boot down on the steel deck. "Those batteries, in turn, are constantly being charged by the connection to Tokyo-3's power system. We've haven't been without power for too long, so there might still be just enough charge for a shot."

Raising an eyebrow, Bishop turned to the chief, who was nodding slowly. "He's right sir. It's technically possible to launch independent of the power grid, if we override some safety measures, but…"

"But?" The pilot was growing anxious. If there existed the possibility of sending up an aircraft to attack that thing, he knew it needed to be done quickly.

"But it'll be extremely risky. Every second those batteries aren't charging, they're discharging, and the less power that's available the less acceleration the rail is capable of producing. If they drain past a certain point, you'll be launched below stall speed, and they might have already-"

"Then we're wasting time." Bishop's decision was made, and he was already stepping off down the tunnel. "We'll try it. Get the cat set up."

"B-but sir!" the chief objected, falling into step beside him. "We can't start the jets with no ground power!"

"Yes we can. Ever hear of a cartridge starter?" He looked over at the man with a grin

"…Yeah, we had 'em on the old Phantoms I used to work on in the SSDF."

"Well, the Avenger has a similar system as a backup. Rough on the engines, but it'll get you started in a pinch." The two men emerged from the launch tunnel into the hangar and jogged over to Bishop's jet, which cast an imposing silhouette in the dim light. The pilot opened a panel beneath one of the air intakes, and to his immense relief found a pair of silver cylinders. As an alternative means of starting the engines when no ground power was available, these cartridges, rather like huge blank shotgun shells, could be fired using a switch in the cockpit. This forced a jet of hot gas through the compressor blades, hopefully turning them and the engine enough for it to light.

"We used 'em all the time in the war," he said, pulling the cartridges to inspect them before loading them back into their slots. "…No reason these shouldn't work."

Nodding his agreement, the chief set off to prepare the catapult, while Bishop mounted the cockpit ladder and stood on the top rung.

"Everyone, listen up!" he bellowed at the top of his lungs to ensure his voice reached every corner of the cavern. "We're setting up to launch, anybody not directly involved with that needs to evacuate to the upper floors of the offices. Now!" Without ventilation, the exhaust gasses from the engines would make the air in the cavern unbreathable within a minute.

He was about to hop into the cockpit, before remembering that his helmet and parachute harness were back in his office. With a muttered curse, he slid back down the ladder to the floor, where Igor was waiting.

"Sir," he said, puffing out his chest. "My aircraft is armed too. I will go, not you. Is too dangerous."

Bishop scoffed at that. "Whaddya mean too dangerous?"

"You are more important, you must be alive. You have many responsibilities here. I have nothing."

With a heavy sigh, he placed a hand on the Russian's shoulder. "…I appreciate the thought, Igor, but I'm going."

"But-"

"That's final. I'm far more experienced with this aircraft than you, and there'll be some tricky flying to do if the catapult can't get up to full speed."

The Russian looked crestfallen, but seemed to understand, nodding with a sullen "yessir."

There was more to it than that, of course. Responsibilities be damned; Sokov and the others were only here because of him, and he knew he could never live with himself if one of them got hurt or killed in his place. If only one of them could go, it would be him.

"Alright. Now," Bishop gestured to a nearby aircraft tug, the driver having abandoned it. "You know how to run one of those?"

"Yessir."

"Good, pull 302 over to the catapult and tell the chief to get her hooked up. I'll be there in a minute, we'll start the engines when everyone's clear of the hangar."

He watched for a moment as Sokov mounted the squat vehicle, giving him a thumbs up as he expertly maneuvered it in front of the nose wheel, before taking off at a jog back to his office. He didn't have a flashlight, so he navigated the darkened corridors by feel and memory, eventually finding his way after a few stubbed toes and bouts of swearing.

Once there, it took him only a few moments to be suited up and ready to fly. Every second counted now, yet something stopped him as he was about to hurry back out of this office.

"You're supposed to give me good luck, aren't you?" He said, pausing to look down at the little porcelain cat on his desk.

"…Well," He continued, poking its raised paw with a small smile. "I guess we'll know real soon, won't we?"