I do not own Code Geass.
…
Manuel's Home, Berga, Unincorporated Area 24, December 2017
The next four days were spent hitting different points along the front line. The days went largely the same as the first: they would cart their goods into the encampment, hawk their wares to the shivering soldiers, and keep their eyes peeled for any signs of Britannia's new weapon. Downtime was spent training the Resistance fighters in close quarters combat. It must have been successful because they began to meet Resistance members from other cells in the city.
Leila was appreciative of the extra activity. It kept her mind off of how miserable she was.
Outside of official duty, when speaking was a necessity, the other members of the W-0 team would not speak to her. Ryo's eyes were filled with a smoldering anger, while Ayono sniped at her whenever she could. Yukiya became absorbed in his laptop. Akito, worst of all, seemed intent on not being alone with her.
Leila sat silently in the wagon, the wind biting at her through her thick clothes. It was yet another day of failure, and she was becoming more and more depressed. They had been behind enemy lines for nearly a week, with nothing to show for their efforts.
Leila turned her head to look at Akito, who sat with his eyes closed, his head bowed as if he were asleep. It was an affected state, she knew; Akito was always on the alert when they were on a mission. He huddled this way to keep seem as small a threat as possible. A large, purple bruise covered his jaw where the baton had struck him.
Leila squeezed her hands tightly. She caught Ryo glaring at her from where he sat, his words whispered with Yukiya.
I didn't want to hurt him! She would never want to hurt him. She hadn't had a choice. She-
No, she decided, an iron cool falling over her. That's enough feeling sorry for myself. Unit cohesion is starting to break down. This cannot be allowed to continue.
"Lieutenant Hyuga," she said. Akito perked up, his eyes opening emotionlessly. "Meet me behind the house when we get back. I want a word with you in private."
He nodded. "Yes, Major."
"Warrant Officer Sayama, Warrant Officer Naruse," she addressed the other two. Ryo scowled at her, while Yukiya merely stared curiously. "Inform Warrant Officer Kosaka that I'll want to speak with all of you once Lieutenant Hyuga and I have finished."
Ryo's jaw tensed. "You think you can just order us around like that after-"
"You are an officer in the Europa United Armed Forces," she cut him off, "and I am your superior office. That may change once we've returned home, but in the meantime? You're damn right."
Ryo went to say something, but Yukiya grabbed his arm. Ryo scowled at him, but Yukiya gave him a look Leila didn't like. It was almost as if he was saying, "Not now."
"Understood, Major," Yukiya said. "We will make sure to tell Kosaka."
Leila nodded stiffly. "Good."
The rest of the ride past in relative silence down the empty street back to the house.
Once they arrived, Leila jumped out, striding quickly to the house. She passed through the main building at a fast pace, then out the backdoor into a small backyard, white with snow.
Akito arrived a moment later, standing stiffly at attention.
"I have already said that I am sorry for striking you," Leila said, trying and failing to keep her tone professional. "Words alone cannot express my sincere regret. However, this silent treatment that you and the others have been giving me is bad for morale and unit cohesion. It cannot be allowed to continue." She took a deep breath, strengthening her resolve. "Say whatever you mean to say, Akito." At his surprised look, she said, "Whatever you have pent up, let it out. I give you permission to speak freely, so that this bad blood between us might be cleansed."
Akito shook his head. "I believe there may be a misunderstanding here, Maj-ma'am," he said.
"How so?"
"I wasn't angry at you," he replied. "I was angry at myself."
Leila's jaw dropped open.
"I was the one who put you into that position," Akito said. "I nearly broke cover and exposed us. I put us all in terrible danger. Seeing that...man," he spat, sneering, "groping and harassing you, set me off. I lost control. For that, I am-"
Leila wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him into a tight embrace. He stiffened with shock. Her shoulders shuddered as she wept.
"Idiots," she mumbled in his ear. "We're both a pair of idiots!" He patted her back awkwardly, and she jerked away from him. "S-Sorry," she said, rubbing her eyes. "I don't know what's come over m-"
Ryo, Yukiya, and Ayano burst out the backdoor, guns in hand.
Ryo shouted, "RAID!"
The sounds of gunfire exploded behind him.
…...
Numata, Gunma, United States of Japan
"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't throw you in a stockade," Tohdoh growled.
Sir Bart of the Glaston Knights sat before him, his hands bound behind him. His clothing, a black vest over a red long sleeved tunic, white pants, and a pair of black jackboots, was filthy, torn at the shoulders, and blackened by what appeared to be fire. It wouldn't surprise Tohdoh; the left side of the young man's once handsome face was a craggy surface of burned skin, a substantial portion of his dark blue-green hair had been burned away, and the left of his two blue eyes was milky, indicating it was blind.
"Because we can help you," Sir Bart said, his body partially bowed. "My scouts have seen your troops moving into attack positions. We know something big is coming, maybe something that will decide the fate of your country, and we can help."
"Help us into an early grave?" Asahina asked, glaring daggers at the Britannian.
"Britannia has no incentive to assist us," Urabe said. "The Empire would like to see the war drawn out as long as possible."
"To the contrary," Sir Bart retorted, "what His Majesty would most like is for peace and stability to return to the Pacific."
"That's a load of bullshit," Chiba said. Her skin still had something of a gray pallor to it, but at least she was up and about. "The Empire would like nothing more than to raise the Union Jack over our carcasses."
"Perhaps at one point," the knight allowed. "However, circumstances have changed. We all have a mutual enemy, one we would all like to see gone."
"Zero," Tohdoh said shortly.
The knight nodded. "Yes, him. You want him gone, we want him gone. I am sure yourself and His Majesty can come to an agreement that would be mutually beneficial, in the event of Zero's passing."
"That's a pretty way of calling us hired guns," Asahina said.
"Hardly hired. You're in rebellion against Zero-"
"Zero is in rebellion," Tohdoh corrected him. "The Democratic Republic of Japan is the only legitimate government of Nippon."
"Of course. You have my sincerest apologies. Nevertheless, Zero does have control over the capitol and the southern half of the country. We can assist you in reclaiming it."
Tohdoh raised an eyebrow. "How?"
Sir Bart took a steadying breath. "You are of course aware that we have been flying equipment into the country, yes?" Tohdoh nodded. "We stopped that because the Gawain kept shooting our planes down, and because we couldn't guarantee that we would get to said supplies before you. However," he offered, "we could begin flying planes through your territory, and drop off equipment to assist you in your attack."
"What kind of equipment?" Tohdoh asked.
"Artillery, rifles, explosives," Sir Bart suggested. "Anything and everything short of armor and Sakuradite."
"Oh yeah," Asahina said. "Can't let the uppity Elevens get their hands on the good stuff."
Sir Bart shook his head quickly. "No, not-"
"Quiet," Tohdoh commanded. The knight shut up.
We need this. This could give us the edge we need. But… He stared at the night for a moment. I don't trust the Imperials as far as I can throw them.
"We'll take whatever you can offer," Tohdoh said. "But we have certain conditions."
Sir Bart swallowed. "I'm afraid I'm not at liberty to negotiate," he said. "You-"
"If you're not at liberty to negotiate, then I'll cut your throat and be done with it," Tohdoh said. The knight backed down. "The Britannian Empire will sign a formal peace treaty with the Democratic Republic of Japan, recognizing its independence. It will extend low interest loans that will be used to rebuild Japan, and it will ask for permission to enter Japanese waters if it so much as come nears our territory."
Sir Bart bristled. "You dare-"
"If Britannia does not comply with these conditions," Tohdoh continued over him, "or if it reneges on its end of the bargain, we will do everything in our power to destroy the Sakuradite reserves of Mount Fuji, the offshore refineries, and anywhere else that Sakuradite may be found within our borders." He narrowed his eyes. "Is that understood?"
Sir Bart's jaw dropped. "You would destroy your own Sakuradite reserves? Are you insane?"
"Sakuradite has caused my nation nothing but trouble," Tohdoh replied. "Too much pain. Too much loss. And I won't allow a race of expansionist psychopaths destroy her again."
The knight was red in the face. He clearly wanted nothing more than to hurl himself at Tohdoh, execution be damned. His lips worked for a moment. "Very well," he said. "These terms are acceptable, so long as you comply with one condition of our own."
Tohdoh raised an eyebrow. "And that is?"
"The Democratic Republic of Japan trades solely with the Holy Empire of Britannia," the knight answered.
"You dare tell us how we'll conduct trade?" Chiba demanded.
"I don't see anyone else able to trade with you," Sir Bart shot back. "We're the only major power with the resources and the willingness to work with you."
"Just like you worked with us seven years ago?" Urabe asked.
"That-"
"I agree to these conditions," Tohdoh said, ending the brewing argument. "We'll accept your aide, Sir Darlton, and count on Britannian honor to follow through."
The knight bowed his head. "You have nothing to fear on that front."
I had better not. "Then get on the line with whomever it is you need to speak to. And gather your men. You'll be under Asahina's command."
"What?" Sir Bart demanded, flabbergasted. "You expect me to take orders from an El-"
Urabe's sword cut through the air, the killer edge stopping just enough to cut his blood. "Finish that sentence," he growled. "I dare you."
Asahina's hand was at his sword too, his countenance furious.
Tohdoh raised his hand. "You didn't think I'd just let you sit back and watch us kill each other, did you?" he asked, keeping the fury out of his tone. "No, Sir Bart. We are not your slaves. You don't get to sit on the sidelines. I won't allow it."
….
Takahashi, Okayama, United States of Japan
"Rebels, you are outnumbered and surrounded! You have no hope of rescue, no chance of resupply! Why suffer and die for a man who will not even come to your aid? Why starve and freeze for a war that is lost? Give yourselves to the Black Knights! Lay your weapons down! You have fought honorably! You have fought nobly! No man can say a word against you! Do not die for a worthless cause! Return to the fold! Make Japan strong! Enrich your nation, and let this division be at an end! You have ten minutes to comply!"
Zero sat back in his seat, tapping his finger restlessly against his control yoke.
There were at least a hundred fighters in Takahashi, holed up in makeshift houses and apartments, hiding inside the rubble of garages. Takahashi was not a large town, and, much like the rest of Japan, it had been razed to the ground. There was little cover to be found from the Hell Zero intended to rain upon the town if they did not comply.
It's coming to an end down here, at least.
Intelligence received from captured enemy troops indicated that the strength of the enemy had been broken by the Britannian firebombing. While few of these groups had direct contact with one another, thus far every cell Zero had encountered had been in the same dire straits. His offensive was merely the final nail in the coffin of the southern rebellion.
"Q-1 to K-1."
"K-1 receiving."
"The ten minutes have passed. We received no reply."
Zero sighed. "Very well." He switched over to his troops' frequency. "Advance, Wave One."
"Yes, sir!"
He rested his chin in his hand, his other hand gripping the control yoke to keep from shaking. Meat shields first.
He now had seventy-six geassed slaves, commanded to obey his every instruction. They moved forward in squad formations, performing textbook maneuvers. Machine gun fire broke the silence, sending multiple slaves toppling to the ground.
Zero smiled. "Yes, waste your ammunition," he said. "Fire every round you can into them. Burn through your stockpiles on men who can't fight back."
Only one man in every ten was armed with a gun that could be fired; the rest were effectively disarmed, their weapons faulty or empty. They would die, every last one of them.
After an hour of the one-sided firefight, the gunfire came to an end.
"Second wave, move in," Zero said.
The gunfire this time was much more sporadic, driven down to semi-automatic fire.
"They've run through their stockpiles," Zero murmured. "Good. This battle is won."
Forty minutes later, it was over. A dozen prisoners were frog marched out of the town, three of them having to be carried by their comrades.
"Casualties," Zero said.
"Reporting eighteen casualties, sir," Kallen said after a moment. "Five dead, thirteen wounded. This is only for the second wave. All seventy-six members of the first wave are dead."
"Those poor bastards just walked right into it," Tamaki put in.
Zero nodded. "Excellent. Casualties are at a minimum." He froze in his seat. The sound of a plane could be heard.
He raised his factsphere, narrowing his eyes at the gray sky above. He enhanced the magnification.
"A Britannian transport plane," he said. "Where the Hell are they going?"
It was the first Britannian aircraft that had been spotted in almost a month. His eyes widened when he saw it wasn't the only one. At least five planes were soaring overhead on a northeastern course. Unless they changed direction, their flight path would take them to Tohdoh's lines. How many Britannians had survived on the other side of No Man's Land? Were there enough to justify the sacrifice of manpower and materiel?
"K-1, do you see them?" Kallen asked.
"I see them. I'd have thought they'd have learned their lesson."
"Where do you think they're heading?"
"If they keep to their present course, likely within Tohdoh's territory."
"What do we do?" Tamaki asked.
The men are exhausted, Zero considered. We need to bury the dead, theirs and ours. Units need to be sent out to convince the civilians to return.
Besides, if there were still enemy soldiers in the north, Tohdoh would be dealing with them, not him.
"We'll set up camp here for the night," Zero decided. "We'll start the drive back tomorrow morning. It'll take most of two days to get back, and I want the men fresh and rested for the journey."
"Understood," Kallen said. "I'll relay your orders to the rest of the men."
"Thanks."
Zero flicked the switch on the frequency. He pinched the bridge of his nose. "As if I didn't have enough problems," he mumbled.
His fingers ran down to his lips, feeling the slight texture. He looked up at Kallen's IFF on the digital map.
He slammed his fist into the side of the seat. "Quit being an ass," he told himself firmly.
He shouldn't be around her alone. The other night had come too close. He had nearly done something that the both of them would regret.
He shook his head.
"I'll figure this out later."
…
Manuel's Home, Berga, Unincorporated Area 24, December 2017
Leila let loose a burst of fire from her machine pistol behind her, sending the Secret Police into cover. Akito dashed across the street, linking up with the others on the other side. As they laid down suppressing fire, Leila sprinted across the street, firing as she went.
"The car is just a few meters away!" Tatianna shouted. "Follow me!"
Manuel was dead, his head blown off by a rifle shot as he attempted to flee, but there was no telling what had happened to the rest of the group.
They sprinted out of the alleyway, Yukiya dropping a smoke grenade as they went. The car was a station wagon, just big enough for the group, and they all piled in. Tatianna slammed her foot on the gas and they took off.
"Were the Hell did they come from?" Leila asked, her eyes glued to the streets on the right.
"No idea!" Ryo shouted back, ducking beneath the window so that he wouldn't be seen. "We were in the kitchen making sandwiches when I spotted them lining up outside the door."
"Someone talked!" Ayano added, checking the magazine on her gun. "Those sons of bitches knew-"
"Language!" Leila cut her off.
"Are you serious?" Ayano asked incredulously.
"You're only fifteen, Kosaka. You haven't yet learned that no man wants a woman with a foul mouth."
"Hey, Hyuga!" Ayano called out.
"Yes?"
"You like girls who talk dirty?"
"Ayano!"
"It depends," Akito answered.
"On what?" Ayano asked.
"On whether I can speak their language."
Ryo laughed.
"Riveting as this conversation is," Yukiya said, "can someone tell me where we're going?"
"One of the safehouses," Tatianna answered. Her eyes were red, her lovely face wet. "We'll meet up with the other members of the Berga resistance and try to get you guys out of here."
"Out of here?" Ryo asked.
"If you get caught behind the lines out of uniform, they'll execute you," Tatianna explained. "Probably after torturing you first. I'm not letting anyone else in the resistance get killed over you."
"No one got killed over us!" Ryo barked.
Tatianna's face snapped around. "Everything was going fine until you showed up!" she accused. "We were just fine on our own! We didn't need you, you goddamn Eleven!"
"Enough!" Leila shouted, pushing Ryo as he went to rise. "You're grieving. I understand that-"
"You understand nothing!" Tatianna retorted. "My cousin's dead, the only family I had left in the world! And they'll kill my husband too! Just you watch!" She turned back around, gripping the steering wheel tightly. "If they knew about the house, then they know who I am! They'll kill him! They'll kill my husband!" She choked. "He didn't even know I was in the resistance! He's a loyal soldier, and they'll kill him, they'll kill him, they'll ki-hi-hi-hi-llll him!"
The car fell silent as she wept, Ryo visibly calming down, a solemn look on his face.
They rode in silence for another five minutes before they rolled to a slow stop, a line of traffic blocking them five blocks away from the safehouse. A feeling of dread filled Leila's heart.
They could see the light of flashing sirens in the distance.
Tatianna climbed out of the car and approached the lights. A few moments later, she returned to the car, her expression ashen.
"They got the safehouse," she said. "If they got the safehouse, then they know everything.
"The Berga resistance is dead."
…
Rivalz and Milly's Apartment, Vida Encantadora, Madrid, Unincorporated Area 24
"I saw your story on those war orphans, sweetheart," Milly's mother said. "It was sweet how they crowded around you like that."
It was less sweet when they put their hands on my ass, Milly thought but did not say. Who knew seven year olds could get so handsy?
Milly stood in the kitchen of her and Rivalz's apartment, washing dishes. It was a single bedroom flat, with the hallway leading to the bedroom to her right. The kitchen was a tidy rectangle with an exterior marble counter to serve up food to a dining area that was right next to it. Diagonal to where she stood was the living room, wear a three person sofa sat across from a TV on the wall, with a coffee table inbetween.
Milly wore a yellow nightdress with white frills that shimmered against her naked body. Her hair hung loose against her shoulders and down her back.
"They were some really nice kids," she said aloud. "They kept on trying to grab Rivalz's camera, though," she giggled.
"Oh, those poor dears," her mother replied. "I'm sure they just wanted to play with him."
Rivalz came down the hallway, a long sleeve blue shirt pulled on, his hair still wet from his shower.
"That's what I told him," she said, winking at him.
"That your mom?" he asked her.
"Yep."
"Told me what?"
"That those wonderful kids just wanted to play with you."
"You tell her those 'wonderful kids' used me as a diaper?"
Milly snickered.
"What'd he say, dear?"
Milly turned the volume up on the receiver. "One of the kids peed on him," she said, laughing. "It went right through his pants leg. He was walking around with this big wet patch for the rest of the day!"
"Oh, well that's nothing to be ashamed of, you used to do the same to your father all the time."
"M-Mom!"
"Really," Rivalz said, leaning against the counter. He rested his hand on his cheek, a bemused smirk on his face. "Tell me more."
"S-So what does dad think of the new house out of Flagstaff?" she asked, exiting the kitchen with a flustered blush.
"It's a fine home, Milly." A two story mansion with a horse range, a lake, and an angel fountain out front had damn well better be a fine home. "The woods are absolutely beautiful. We just wish it were a little closer to the capitol."
Milly rolled her eyes. It's only a couple of hours out. She sat on the couch, her nightshirt hitching up to expose her long white legs.
"You know they held a parade for the boys going off to Europe."
"Yeah, our affiliate out of Pendragon caught it. It was really impressive."
"Oh, we just loved seeing all those banners and the soldiers marching so smartly in their dress uniforms. We managed to snag a box next to the Wesleys, it's the one with the blue and white roof."
Rivalz laid down on the couch with her, resting his head on her lap.
"They own one of the condominiums out on the north edge, right?" Milly asked dutifully, brushing her fingers through Rivalz's hair. He closed his eyes comfortably.
"Yes, that's them, right on the northern edge of Camlann Park. You can see the top of the Palace there! You know, you and Rivalz should go there sometime. He's never been, has he?"
"I don't think he's old enough to go," she said, giving him a teasing smile. "Too many old folks there."
"Oh please, honey, don't be so ridiculous. I met your father there, remember?"
"Hey," Rivalz protested, "you gonna keep cracking jokes about my age?"
She winked at him. "The price you have to pay for dating an older woman," she told him.
"Only by a year."
"A year is a lifetime, darling," she replied. "I have so much more experience than you."
"Oh, really," he asked, an interested gleam in his eye.
Milly leaned down. "Really," she agreed.
"Are you talking to me or Rivalz, Milly?"
"Rivalz, mom," Milly answered, cocking an eyebrow at him. His hand ran up her legs, underneath the hem of her shirt, to squeeze the plump cheek of her backside. She gave a small gasp, away from the phone so her mother wouldn't hear.
"The Carlisles invited us to a banquet this Saturday," her mother said. "They've invited the Maginets and the Benoits as well."
Bottom feeder families in the courtly pecking order, but higher than the Ashfords all the same. They may be in the back row of the crowd in the Throne Room, but they were in the room all the same.
"Will Grandpa be showing off the designs for the Ganymede Mark Two?" Milly asked. She shot a look at Rivalz even as he kissed her thigh. She whispered at him, "That was uncalled for," a wicked grin on her face. He winked at her.
"But of course, darling! Count Maginet has a son in the Knightmare Corps just a year older than yourself, and from what I hear, he's shown remarkable talent," her mother replied. Milly bit her lip. "Just think, Milly. If we can get the Count's son to mount our new Knightmare," Milly rolled her eyes, "and he bursts on the scene we could have a ladder to climb right into Pendragon!"
Milly nodded, and her head just kept swaying, her free hand brushing Rivalz's hair. "I imagine Grandpa is happy," she said.
"Oh, you should see the gleam in his eye these days, darling! I haven't seen him this excited in years!" her mother gushed. "Well, I know it must be late where you are, and I wouldn't want to keep you up all night. We can talk more tomorrow, darling."
"Alright, mom. Give papa and Grandpa my love," she said.
"I will, honey. Love you!"
"Love you, too!"
Milly snapped the phone shut, glaring at Rivalz without any heat. "That was entirely uncalled for," she repeated, crossing her arms over her chest.
Rivalz shrugged. He relaxed back onto the couch. "What can I say?" he asked, a slight smirk on his face. "I'm a growing boy."
Milly giggled, unable to hold her severe expression. She curled up against him, relaxing as his arm wrapped around her shoulders.
"They're still trying to get back to Court," she said, her head laying languidly on his chest.
"How so?"
"They think they're gonna get another Marianne," Milly said. "That's how they made it last time. Gave some sweet commoner girl the keys to the Ganymede, and it turned out she was a natural pilot."
Marianne the Flash, the Knight of Six, and later one of the hundreds of Consorts the Emperor was fond of plowing. The fortunes of Ashford had risen meteorically with her, to the point it was rumored that Milly would have been married off to Marianne's son, Lelouch, her dear friend. Marianne's assassination, and the subsequent exile of the vi Britannias, brought the Ashfords crashing back to Earth just as quickly.
Many noble houses had been brought down by the murder of Marianne, reduced to minor landed estates, forced to serve in the military to try to carve out their own territory in Europe. A fair few of their orphans were among the children Milly had done a story on today.
"At least they gave up on marrying you off," Rivalz said. Milly laughed at the relief in his voice. "Seriously," he added, "I thought it'd be a lot harder to convince them to let us go out."
She kissed his hand. "Being the man who saved their daughter's honor, not to mention her life, has its perks," she reminded him. She thought she could taste the faint traces of herself on his fingers. "You want to head by your parent's house next vacation? They just got that duplex out in Seattle, right?"
"Yeah," he agreed. "I'd like that. We could hit up a hotel nearby."
"Single bed, of course."
"Of course. Wouldn't want you to get cold."
She burrowed her face deeper into his chest.
With you, I don't think I could ever be cold.
…
Takahashi, Okayama Province, United States of Japan
Zero was exhausted. Interrogating the prisoners took an hour, long enough to confirm that advancing any further was a waste of time. If he needed to return later, he would. For now, he needed to return to Tokyo and prepare for the war with Tohdoh. Arranging their transport back to Tokyo, however, had taken several hours. By the time he had finished taking stock of the situation in Takahashi, the sky had grown dark and the air even colder.
"Kallen, you're relieved of your duties," he said. "Go ahead and get some rest."
"What about you?" she asked.
"I have a few more things I need to do before I turn in for the night," he said.
"I can stay up with you," she said.
He shook his head. "Don't worry about it," he said. "I won't be up much longer."
As he turned from her, she grabbed his hand in both her own. "Then, sleep well, Colonel," she said softly. Her hand was impossibly warm on this cold night.
"Thank you, Kallen," he said. He ran his thumb over her knuckles, catching himself too late to see the adoration in her eyes. He gave a slight pull and she let him go. He turned his back reluctantly when they parted.
He was mindful of the interested looks he was getting from the surrounding Black Knights.
"I just love courting trouble, don't I?" he said. He reached the tent a moment later, his hand already trembling as he arrived.
When the tent flap shut behind him, he turned his attention to his desk, where-
His arm was twisted behind his back, a knife pressed against his throat. "Do not move," C-Two's voice whispered harshly in English. "Do not speak, Britannian. Not if you want to live."
"How the Hell-"
"You're leader, Zero, is a very respected man," she said. "I should like to meet him at some point and pay my respects. One of his men pulled your bayonet from my head, as a token to him. Now, be silent."
Zero winced. "Fine, fine," he said. "Just-"
The knife dug into his neck. He felt the sting as it broke skin, and the warm trickle of blood. "I told you not to speak!" She pushed against his back, forcing him to the far side of the tent. "Who are you?" she demanded. "Where are we? How many Britannians are there?"
"I told you who I am-"
She wrenched his arm. He grunted at the pain. "Not so loud, fool! Else I shall cut your monarchist neck and be done with you!"
Her hand vanished into his coat, from which she drew his gun, pressing the steel into his back. "Your weapon appears different from what I'm used to," she hissed, lowering the knife and grabbing his wrist behind his back, her hand cold as ice, "but I suspect it has the same affect. Speak to me quietly or die."
Zero waved his free hand sarcastically. "Proceed."
She wrenched his arm again, causing him to grunt. "Who are you?" she repeated.
"Lelouch Lamperouge," he replied. "Operating under the alias Alan Spacer, under direct orders from the First Consul, Zero."
"A lie!" she said angrily. "Monsieur Napoleon Bonaparte is First Consul!"
"Of France, yes," Zero agreed, playing along. "But we're not in France. This is the United States of Japan."
"Another lie!" she wrenched his arm again. "Last night I was in Austerlitz! We cannot be in the Orient, it isn't possible." She dug the pistol deeper into his back. "Speak the truth, Britannian, or I will have your life."
Zero snarled. "The truth," he said, "is that Napoleon Bonaparte is dead."
He heard the click of his gun's hammer. "You dare!"
"And he has been dead," Zero continued, "for over a hundred years."
"Wha-" He felt C-Two shake her head. "I don't under-"
"The year is two thousand and seventeen, Ascension Throne Britannia," he said. "Napoleon has been dead for nearly two centuries."
The grip on his arm tightened. "You are telling me lies! It cannot be-"
"The Revolutionaries cut his head off," Zero interrupted her.
"What?" C-Two asked breathlessly. "They can't have, he-"
"He tried to declare an Empire," Zero went on, pressing his advantage. "So the Revolutionaries guillotined him in Paris."
"But, but he's in Austerlitz!"
"He was, yes, in 1805. In 1821, having been defeated at Waterloo, he was seized by the Revolutionaries upon his return, and beheaded."
The grip on his arm loosened, then fell away completely. He turned around to see her backing away from him, her face wet with tears. "You are telling the truth, aren't you?" she asked him, her voice watery.
Zero rubbed his arm where she'd gripped him. "I am, yes," he replied. "I couldn't make up something like that."
She lowered the gun. "No," she whimpered. "No..."
Zero reached out for her. "C-Two..."
She raised the pistol again. "Do not touch me!" she commanded him. "You filthy Britannian pig! Never, ever touch me!"
A great pain struck Zero in the chest. It took him a moment to realize that he hadn't been shot.
"Get out!" she demanded, her voice shrill. "Get out!"
Zero didn't bother to argue.
….
East of Oyodo, Nara Province, United States of Japan
Villetta tightened the silencer on her machine pistol as she knelt on the snowy hillock. She wore white camouflage and a black helmet to hide the silver of her hair. She gazed down at the Black Knight encampment below. Eight of the terrorist Burais knelt motionless off to the side. Below them, three large, patchwork tents were strewn in a ragged semicircle, a weak fire in the center of the half ring.
They haven't even put up a guard. She smirked. This will be easy.
She made a signal with her hand. Out of the darkness, forty paratroopers in matching uniform converged on the tents in a low crouch. They surrounded each of them, hand on the flaps, and after a few hand signals, stormed the tents. The shouting reached Villetta on her hillock, grating on her nerves.
It is far too loud in this graveyard.
The paratroopers dragged the Elevens out of the tents, lining them up at gunpoint. Villetta stood up and strode down the hillock, seven paratroopers falling in step behind her. The paratroopers were, all of them, Honorary Britannians who had evacuated with the rest of the Occupational Forces. That might have been cause for concern, were it not for the fact that all of them were married to Britannian women, and had Britannian children, all of whom were enjoying the hospitality and protection of the Marshall Islands Security Forces. Their ethnicity had been a necessity; there was no other way of infiltrating Zero's rebel state nearly undetected, and certainly there was no one else who knew the terrain of Area Eleven better than the natives.
The plan was simple: Villetta and her troopers would insert into the south, in the Nara region, the advance east and north till they reached the base of Mount Oyama in Kanagawa. Once Tohdoh launched his attack from the north, Villetta's troops would infiltrate through the south, deceiving their way past the Palace guards and striking into the Viceroy's Palace, where Zero would make his final stand. If she could pick up a few Brittanian stragglers along the way as "prisoners," so much the better.
She glanced over the enemy soldiers, who ranged in age from a man in his early forties, to a woman perhaps in her late teens. There were fifteen of them, which meant that at least a few of them had to be maintenance.
"Passwords," she demanded. "Code phrases. Patrol routes. Supply caches." She loosened her gun on her hip. "Now."
….
Britannian Command Center, Silk City Hotel, Gijon, Unincorporated Area 24
"Glorious," Jeremiah murmured, his eyes affixed to the sea. The Bay of Biscay was a cold blue against the white of the beach. The water was pristine in form, almost flat and still, the surface broken only by the occasional white foam of the waves as they came in to land.
"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Sir Michele Manfredi asked him. He was the leader of the Holy Order of Michael, the preeminent Knightly order of Euro Britannia, and for all intents and purposes was the supreme Colonel of Euro Britannia's forces. He was a large man, with a strong jaw and cleft chin, and his dark hair fell down to his shoulders at spiked ends. His uniform was reminiscent of the Knights of Round to which he had once belonged, the only difference being that his grand cape was red and gold, while the opposing colors of his tunic were green and black. "When God made the Earth, I'm certain the first place He created was Spain."
"Indeed," Jeremiah agreed tactfully, though he felt his own homeland of Florida far more pleasing to the condition. "But that isn't what I was referring to."
Jeremiah pointed, and the knight nodded his agreement.
The Royal Navy was docked just off Gijon, all along the northern coast of Area 24. Intense fighter screens were protecting the armada from enemy assault, though the Europeans appeared to be holding back, perhaps with the intention of deploying their air forces against the inevitable invasion. Much of the armada were transport ships, dropping off Imperial Marines by the thousands.
"It is impressive," Manfredi agreed. "One million Imperial soldiers preparing for the greatest amphibian assault in the history of the world. The wretched refuse of Europe, exiled from their homeland, come again to reclaim their rightful place in the sun." He breathed deeply. "I have waited a long time for this moment."
"As have we all," Jeremiah said. A warm feeling of patriotism filled his heart. "Has the land distribution been finalized?"
Manfredi nodded. "We finished discussion right before you arrived. To ensure fair dispensation to our exile community, the Prime Minister has agreed to form an Archduchy out of the reclaimed lands. We're designating it 'Euro Britannia.'" He chuckled. "In a few short months, no one will have the power to challenge the might of either of our empires."
"'Either of our empires?'" Jeremiah asked pointedly.
Manfredi smiled thinly. "A slip of the tongue," he said. "Of course I meant Holy Britannia."
"Of course."
It would seem the Princess' suspicions were correct, Jeremiah thought. They're getting delusions of grandeur.
"These lands were robbed from all Britannians," Manfredi continued. "Our forefathers once ruled these lands. The Revolutionaries stole it from us once, but they will not have it again. Blood has been shed, ours and theirs, and we will have it."
Technically speaking, all of their true ancestral lands, Jeremiah's included, were in the British Isles, but that wasn't an opinion he was going to share, here or in mainland Britannia.
"When will I meet with the rest of your cohort?" Jeremiah asked.
"Soon," Manfredi assured him. "My chief subordinates are consolidating our grip around Zaragosa. Once that's accomplished to my satisfaction, I will summon them to the palace, where we may discuss war and peace." He signaled to one of their guards. "In the meantime, you must be exhausted from your flight. Accommodations have been prepared for you in the Hotel, attached to your niece's apartment at your request."
Jeremiah bowed. "I thank you for fulfilling my foolish request," he said, his heart pounding. "I'm afraid the excitement of the times has made her bold."
"But of course. What young woman doesn't have a taste for a little adventure?"
….
Quarters of Jeremiah Gottwald
I was dreaming…
She dreamed of golden hair and blue eyes, spilling falsehoods and vile slander.
She dreamed of a great weapon that anchored the sky.
She dreamed of her brother, in flowing white robes, impaled by a demon in black.
The dreams were a torrent. Unfocused. Unclear. She couldn't make heads or tails of them, but they all had a common denominator.
Her brother was dead in all of them.
Nunnally's eyes snapped open. They were wet, and she brushed the tears away. She stared out the window.
Nunnally wasn't sure how she felt about being in a foreign land. On the one hand, she had been raised in Japan, under the loving care of her brother and Sayoko. Though she was not Japanese, Japan was her home, more than Britannia proper would ever be. It was where her friends were, where her future had been, and it was the home she missed daily.
On the other, Spain was a beautiful country. The ancient castles, bridges, and roadways blended almost seamlessly with the modern skyscrapers, department stores, electronics shops, and all other manner of accouterments of the modern world. It was here, in this blend of the ancient and modern, the romantic and the cynical, that she was truly able to see the world in all its splendor and complexity.
But that's only the buildings, she thought sadly as she looked down into the street.
The people were hunched over, beaten down, defeated. They huddled in fear every time a Britannian patrol passed them by. Homes were being quartered by Britannian soldiers, and entire families had been turned out into the streets for defiance.
No, she decided, I don't think I like being here very much, after all.
"Lady Brumine," Sayoko said, catching her attention. "Your Uncle is here to see you."
Nunnally smiled. "Thank you, Sayoko."
Sayoko rolled her off the balcony from which she sat, back into the Presidential Suite that her brother's knight occupied. A massive four poster bed sat on the right side of the room on a raised platform, while a table, kitchen, and entertainment area rested on the other. The room was richly decorated with all manner of busts and statues, some depicting famous Spanish leaders, others facsimiles of Greco-Roman gods and architecture. A small statuette of Marianne, the French symbol of Liberty during the Revolution, stood on a little table beside the bed.
Nunnally smiled at it. How appropriate, mother, that you should be named after the symbol of freedom in the Old World.
The door to the hotel room opened, revealing her brother's knight in his noble splendor. He took off his dark greatcoat and hung it up upon the coat rack, a bright smile on his face.
"Uncle! You're back!" Nunnally cried out happily.
Jeremiah fell to one knee, grasping her hand in his and kissing it. "I could not stay away long," he said, staying on one knee before her. "Not while my darling niece was cooped up on her own."
Nunnally giggled. "I'm not alone, silly," she retorted. "I have Sayoko with me."
"For which she has my eternal thanks," Jeremiah said, smiling up at the maid.
"How was your meeting?" Nunnally asked.
"Fruitful," Jeremiah answered. "Should the coming campaign be successful, many more of our brothers and sisters shall have their ancient lands restored to them, and more besides."
It was difficult for Nunnally to keep the smile on her face. Spain wasn't their home, and these weren't their lands. What did it matter what happened more than a century ago? Had the Empire not grown mighty in the interim, regardless of its eviction from Europe?
"That's wonderful," she lied. "Will we be in Spain long?"
"Long enough, I should think, for you to get out and see the sights," he promised her. "But not tonight. Tonight, we shall be entertaining some friends."
"Oh? Which friends might these be?"
"Count Oliver of House Mcgrath, and Baron Andre of House Dunoit," he said. "They're old comrades of mine, rudely separated by circumstance, but they've been placed under my command. I thought it would be good to introduce you to them."
"I shall be delighted to make their acquaintance," Nunnally said, beaming.
"Then, if you will pardon me, I will freshen up for dinner." Jeremiah stood and gave her a slight bow, then left the room.
"Sayoko?" Nunnally said.
"Yes, My Lady?"
"Roll me back out onto the balcony, please. I should like to look at the ocean a while longer."
"Yes, My Lady."
As Sayoko rolled Nunnally back onto the balcony, Nunnally settled deep into thought.
Houses Dunoit and Mcgrath had been patronized by her mother, and the second sons of both families had been killed guarding her at the assassination. What had been left of the clans had been stripped of their honors and many of their titles in the anti-Marianne purge.
My brother rules a divided Japan, while Jeremiah forges alliances with my mother's old retainers.
Her brother was Zero, Jeremiah had told her. She hadn't wanted to believe it at first. How could her kind, caring, loving brother be that demon?
But the dreams didn't lie. They never lied. She knew that.
She squeezed the armrest of her wheelchair tightly.
There has to be a reason, Big Brother. There has to be an explanation, right?
She tried to see, but the images were too muddled. Too much was in a state of flux, too many different actors making independent decisions that affected all the others.
What good is seeing the future if you can do nothing to influence it?
Nunnally didn't know if this was the right road to go down, but she was certain of one thing.
She loved her brother. She would be there for him, as he had always been there for her.
…
Yokkaichi, Shiga, United States of Japan
The lone woman turned out to be the weak link. Her lover, an older man with thinning brown hair, was the leader of the detachment, and he had placed her in charge of all their codes. Two dead prisoners and a knife pressed against his throat later, and she was giving them everything, from the codes, to the patrol routes, to the name of her cat. Villetta was merciful; the remaining prisoners were killed with a quick severing of the brain stem.
The best Knightmare pilots among the paratroopers mounted up, Villetta herself taking the lead, while the remaining infantry utilized the mapped patrol routes to bypass the passing Elevens. They took with them as much of the Elevens' equipment as they could carry, including the dead terrorists' uniforms, their naked bodies buried beneath the snow.
They hit two more sleeping units, commandeering their armored trucks, equipment, and the five Burais they came across.
Villetta felt some disappointment. She had hoped to link up with the stragglers from the evacuation in the south, bolstering their numbers for the strike against Tokyo. Unfortuantely, the presence of so much Black Knight armor seemed to have scared them off, and Villetta had no means of communicating with them. She had no way of knowing where their hideouts were, and no time to search for them.
The shattered city of Nagoya loomed before them as they moved, the blackened spires rising up out of the darkness like skeletal hands reaching for the shrouded moon. A checkpoint of weary, cold Black Knights waved them through, paying the barest modicum of attention to them as they returned inside to the heat of their posts.
All around Villetta were streets blackened by Hellfire, corpses piled high on hand-drawn wagons to be set alight in a pit dug somewhere nearby. Snow sat on the rooftops of the few homes or shops that hadn't been razed by the Dragon of Brittania.
Even in the cockpit of her stolen Burai, Villetta felt impossibly cold.
We did this to them, she thought. How many people died in the firebombing? And how many more in the aftermath?
Villetta would not have wished this upon anyone, not even her worst enemy.
Kaname, how is it exactly you're keeping these people together?
She tried to summon up some anger at the thought of her betrayer, but the flames of anger were smothered quickly by the bodies of children she could see, half-buried in the snow. She fingered her engagement ring in her pocket, taking some strength from the familiar feeling of it beneath her fingers.
She felt firm lips on hers, strong hands on her hips, brown eyes alight with love.
Was it all just a lie, Kaname? Were you just using me?
Her vision grew blurry. She wiped away the moisture that threatened to roll down her cheeks.
I don't want to be here, she realized. I don't want to see this.
It was easier to rage and hate from her cozy office, where the heat of the sun would beat down on her and sweat clung to her skin. Here, bundled up in a heavy coat, driving through a city her Empire had destroyed, toward a city she would soon put to the sword, she felt only misery.
She pulled the ring out of her pocket, looking it over. A simple band, bought by a poor man for a woman he claimed to love.
She treasured it more than all the gold in the world.
She checked the digital map. They were near five hours from Tokyo, but it was late, and they were all tired.
We'll camp at Shizuoka, she decided. Sleep during the day, move at night.
They would be able to resupply at one of the Sakuradite depots as well.
The thought of Zero fueling the army that would stab at his black heart brought a small, reluctant smile to her face.
…
Barcelona, Unincorporated Area 24
They fled Berga using a series of back roads that weren't of official maps. They were old paths, beaten flat by the feet of horses, mules, wagons, and any number of other creatures, be they man or beast. When the roads became too narrow, they abandoned the car. In a little village called Santpedor, Tatianna and Liela bought haird dye, brown for Leila and dirty blonde for Tatianna. Leila added a beauty spot just beneath her lip to complete the transformation. To her shame, the only dye they could apply to her comrades was the purple and black bruising of a few punches to the face.
"Come here, ya little shit," Ryo had said playfully to Yukiya, a grin on his face as he cracked his fingers. Yukiya paled.
Leila had shaken her head with a longsuffering sigh. "Ryo, stop enjoying this," she admonished him. "You're scaring poor Yuki."
"Come on, boss, it's not every day beating the shit out of your little buddy is necessary." He put on his best serious expression, his hand grasping Yukiya's coat front. "For the greater good," he said solemnly, before walloping the younger boy across the cheek.
"I'll let Sayama do me," Akito suggested.
Leila nodded gratefully. She couldn't bear the thought of striking him again.
She sighed. She turned to Ayano. "I guess that just leaves you and me," Leila said reluctantly. "I'll try to be gentle."
"Don't go soft on my account," Ayano retorted. "I can take it just as well as Hyuga can."
Leila swallowed. Her glance flicked to Akito, who didn't look happy with her statement. When their eyes met, he gave her a nod.
Leila turned around, grabbed Ayano by her jacket, and punched her hard across the cheek. The sound of fist on flesh was wrenching to Leila's ears. As Ayano recoiled, Leila jerked her back and punched her across the other cheek. She let the girl go, watching as angry tears welled up in Ayano's eyes.
"I didn't want to do that," Leila said. "Believe me, there are few things in this world I want to do less than hurt any of you. But..." She placed her hands on Ayano's shoulders, forcing her to look at her. "No matter what I do, it is always to protect you. All of you. And if you have a problem with that," Leila promised, "you can slug me with impunity once we're safe."
They rented out a pair of hotel rooms for the night, a two bed room for herself and Tatianna, and a single bed room for the rest of the unit. Leila and Tatianna spent most of the night doctoring their pictures in their official papers to match their new appearances.
They took a transit bus into Barcelona, all of their weapons save a pair of small pistols abandoned. Leila and Tatianna were now the only ones armed in their group, something none of them were happy with. They hit three different checkpoints on the way into the city, the security growing successively tighter. To security officers boarded the bus from opposite ends, converging on the center as they checked everyone's papers.
Tatianna squirmed next to her, but Leila didn't show her anxiety. She held up her documents, but the policeman, a Britannian by the look of him, was barely paying her any attention, focusing instead on Ayano.
Leila swallowed. He doesn't recognize her from somewhere, does he? She was sure the Britannians, or the Spanish Secret Police, maybe even both, had sent out their photos if they had them, though she hadn't seen any in evidence. She fingered the pistol in her pocket.
"How much?" the Britannian said.
It took Leila a moment to realize he was talking to her. "What?" she asked.
"The Eleven," he elaborated, gesturing to Ayano. "How much for her?"
Leila bristled. "She's no-"
"Two thousand," Ayano interrupted. She sent Leila a warning glance. "Two thousand, sterling. All up front."
"The Hell you say," the Britannian protested. "Your face is beat to shit. There's no way you're worth two thousand!"
"It was originally five hundred," Leila said. "You can see what a fine figure she has, after all." She leaned over and opened Ayano's coat, squeezing the girl's plump breasts together. They were soft, and round, and Leila fought to keep her face from blushing fiery red. "And so young as well, not all used up like the girls in the red light district." She drew her hands down Ayano's belly, which tensed beneath Leila's hands, before resting them on her thighs.
The soldier slowly started to nod his agreement. "But two thousand, come on," he whined. Leila realized for the first time how young this soldier probably was. He may even be the same age as her.
"You can thank a few of your friends in the last town we hit up," Leila said. "They seemed to think beating my workers rotten was covered under the original price. Now, it's two thousand so I can fix the damage he caused."
"What were their names?" the kid asked, clearly put out.
Leila shrugged, letting go of Ayano. "We didn't ask, and they didn't tell. It's best that way."
The soldier hummed. "Hey, Mickey!" he called out to the other soldier.
"Yeah?"
"You spot me three hundred?"
Leila froze. Shit. She didn't think the kid would still be willing to go for it. Ayano shared a panicked look with her. She held her breath, waiting.
Mickey snorted. "You still owe me two for that broad in Madrid."
"I told you I'd pay you back!"
"That was a month ago, and I'm still light! No means no!"
The soldier scowled. "How long you going to be in Barcelona?" he asked Leila.
"About a month I should say," Leila lied through her teeth. We're not staying one day if we can help it. "At the Majestic Hotel. Ask for Lucrezia."
The soldier nodded. "Got it," he said. He turned to Ayano. "Being see you soon," he promised her.
Ayono winked. "Looking forward to it."
The bus stopped about twenty minutes later, and they filed out as fast as they could.
"Goddamn was that lucky," Ayano said, falling in step next to her.
"Language," Leila said absently.
"Oh, come on! Surely I've earned it after that!"
"There's no excuse for foul language," Leila said, smiling secretly.
"UGH! After having to put up that kid's crap?" She deepened her voice. "'How much for her?' What a jerk! Who does that in public?"
"You should be thanking him," Tatianna said quietly.
"How do you figure that?"
"He could have just raped you."
Ayano nearly stumbled at the comment, a shocked look on her face. She brought a hand to her mouth. "Holy shit, you're right." She shook her head disgustedly. "Damn these people are sick!"
"I'm getting you a swear jar when we get back," Leila said, trying to distract Ayano.
It worked. "A swear jar? I'm not a little kid, dammit!"
"That's five Euros right there," Leila said. "And ten for the previous two."
"This shit is retroactive?"
"And make that five more," Leila said sweetly. She smiled saccharine at her.
"How come Ryo doesn't get a swear jar?" Ayano demanded.
"Hey!"
"Because foul language is the least of my concerns when it comes to Ryo."
"Hey! What's that supposed to mean!"
Ayano clammed up, crossing her arms in protest, but there was a little smirk on her face.
An arm came down around Leila's shoulders. Ryo dragged her and Ayano to him. "Hey, that thing you did with Ayano," Ryo said, grin shark like. "That was pretty hot. You can do that to me anytime."
Leila flushed red. "R-Ryo!" she and Ayano said. The others laughed.
The horizon turned to blood as the evening sun rose. Britannian patrols marched or rolled down the streets, while Secret Police in black uniforms stood at every street corner. The street lamps were coming online, casting the red roofs and tan walls in a timid light.
Despite the obvious presence of the occupiers, the people in the streets seemed unconcerned. They laughed and joked, had shouting matches in the street, and walked lazily from one destination to the other.
"I don't understand," Leila said to Tatianna. "Don't they realize they've been sold out? Don't they know that Britannia will wipe their history and culture away?"
"The EU was doing much the same thing," Tatianna answered. "When your homeland's culture, history, and very way of life was already being eroded, what difference does it make who was doing it?"
Leila frowned. "That is not what is happening," she rejected. "The EU is proud of our shared heritage and traditions."
"The only shared traditions that Europeans have is of killing each other," Tatianna retorted. "Anarchism is a near institutional element of the continent's history. You can't just wipe that away, no matter how hard you try. The present situation is proof of that."
"Spain's leaders betrayed Spain," Leila protested. "Not the EU."
"And why do you think that is? Do you think we have forgotten how Napoleon set the Peninsula on fire? Do you think the Italians forgot how Bonaparte overthrew their kings and set up his puppet republics?" Tatianna shook her head. "There are blood feuds and ethnic hatreds going back centuries, between all the nations of the world. Perhaps, in your ivory towers, you've forgotten that. But you will remember. We will all remember."
The sun was just beginning to set when they arrived at the docks. A fishing boat would be waiting for them as part of their previously planned extraction.
"Oh no," Leila breathed.
There were guards all over the docks. She spotted at least thirty engaging in regular patrols, and boats on the water with searchlights.
Were they warned ahead of time?
"Son-of-a-bitch!" Ryo said. "How the Hell are we supposed to get out now?"
"We can't stay here much longer," Yukiya pointed out. "We don't have the money."
"Or the time," Ayano added. "And I'm not staying in the same city as that creep for a month!"
Leila squeezed her fist. "Akito," she said, turning to him, "what do you think we should-"
Tatianna's warm arms slipped around her waist, grasping her tightly.
"T-Tatianna, what-"
"Avenge us."
Tatianna pushed Leila out of the way and fast walked towards a pair of guards.
"VIVE LA SPAIN!" she shouted, pulling out her gun and shooting the first soldier in the face. She shot the other in the throat, and broke and run.
Leila and the others went to ground on instinct, feeling around for her pistol. She gaped. Her pocket was empty.
"No," she murmured.
Screams went up in the night at the sound of the gunshots. The guards on the dock charged after Tatianna, yelling for her to halt.
Akito grabbed Leila around the arm. "Come on!" he ordered her. "Let's go!"
They sprinted as a group towards the now clear docks, racing for the fishing boat at the far end. They jumped on board, Leila shouting, "Wellesley!" as they did.
An older Spaniard with gray hair shot up from the ship's hold, a revolver in hand. "There's guns beneath the floorboard!" he told her.
He cranked up the boat. "Unmoor us!" he shouted.
"Right!" Ryo said. He untied the lash quickly and jumped back onboard.
Ayano and Yukiya emerged from the hold, bearing assault rifles. One was thrown to Leila and the other to Akito.
The boat sailed out, the sounds of gunshots behind them as the shootout continued. Patrol boats were coming in to shore, passing them by as they exited the dock.
"HALT!" Leila heard one of the patrol boats shout. "You are in a restricted area! Return to the dock at once!"
"Hold fire," Leila told the others. "Wait until the last possible second."
"Base One, Base One, this is U-One, repeat this is U-One," their pilot said into a radio.
"U-One, this is Base One, we read you."
"We're coming out of Barcelona, and we're coming out hot. Request immediate air support at coordinates-"
"HALT OR YOU WILL BE FIRED UPON!" the patrol boat shouted.
"U-One, air support request approved and en route, T-minus five minutes."
"Can't they get here a little bit faster?" Yukiya said. His rifle trembled in his hands.
"HALT! THIS IS YOUR LAST WARNING!"
"NOW!" Leila shouted.
They rose up from their positions, aimed at the boat, and opened fire. The spotlight on the bow shattered under the sudden barrage. Leila was sure she saw something splash into the water. The boat listed to the side as they continued to fire, the bullets ripping apart the white paint job.
"SHIT, THERE'S MORE OF 'EM!" Ryo shouted.
Four patrol boats were now in pursuit, opening fire on their fishing boat. Very few of the bullets struck home, and Leila and the others returned fire.
"Aim for the spotlights!" Leila shouted.
She heard a dark chuckle next to her. She looked up.
Akito stood tall and proud, his rifle leveled, a manic grin on his face. "Die!" he said, squeezing the trigger. "Die!" He ejected the spent magazine and recharged. "DIE!"
Leila swallowed nervously. She had seen him like this before, in the middle of pitched combat, his normally blue eyes rimmed a hazy red. Akito was, for lack of a better word, a berserker.
She hated that.
"Get down, you idiot!" Ryo shouted, grabbing Akito by the waist and jerking him down. A stream of machine gun fire streamed right through the spot where Akito had been. "What do you have, a death wish!"
Akito blinked, and the red haze was gone.
"Yo!" Ryo shouted, turning around. "Can this piece of shit go any- WHAT THE SHIT?"
Leila looked back, then stared.
The captain's body lay on the deck, his head a mess of gore all over his instruments.
"Oh, Jesu-" Ayano vomited across the deck.
"A-Akito..." Leila stammered, unable to voice her orders.
"Right," he said.
He ran over to the wheel and took over. "Keep me covered."
Leila jumped back up and opened fire, followed shortly by Ryo and the others. Another spotlight shattered, and she heard a scream. Bullets rattled against the hull of the boat, sending them back into cover.
"Where the Hell is the Air Force!" Ayano shouted.
The forward most patrol boat exploded in flames, showering the water with wood and steel. Two more followed it, rapidly sinking into the water.
"Oh, there they are," she said.
Five fighters turned off to the side. "U-One, this is Frank One. We'll be your taxi driver on this lovely night. Just keep close to the coast, and we'll make sure you make it home before mom knows you're out."
"Roger," Akito replied.
Leila burst out laughing at the simple reply. She looked over at the body of the captain, the relief at having survived mixing with sadness.
Avenge us.
We will, Leila promised.
"Hey, Major," Ayano said, "think we're out of danger."
Leila nodded absently. "Yes, we should be."
A fist collided with her cheek. Leila fell to the deck, staring up in shock at Ayano. Her fist was still clenched, but there was no anger in Ayano's eyes.
"Now we're even," she said.
Ryo and Yukiya started laughing.
Despite herself, and the pain beginning to flare up in face, Leila smiled.
…
The Emperor's Private Chambers, Royal Palace, Pendragon, Holy Britannian Empire
"It's done, Your Majesty," Schneizel said, bowing low on the view screen. "Our friends came through on their end of the bargain, and we have clear cut evidence they helped. Self preservation will ensure they don't turn on us."
"Good," Charles approved. "The bargain is struck. Europe is ours."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
Charles waved his hand and the video feed cut out.
"Cicero's wisdom proves true once again," his brother, V-Two, said. "A murderer is less to be feared than a traitor."
Charles' brother was his polar opposite: small where he was large; soft spoken where Charles was baritone; ruthless where Charles was merciful. He had blonde hair that flowed to his feet, and dark pink eyes that belied the malevolence in his small body. He had gained immortality when he was ten, leaving Charles reasonably certain that he still had the mindset of a child. He wore a long, flowing black cape with purple interior and a high collar, and a blue, white, and gold tunic and pants that would not have looked out of place on a choir boy.
"Indeed," Charles agreed. "I do believe this whole adventure has shaved off a year of work. We will have all of Europe in just a few months."
"Then the invasion is confirmed for the end of March?"
Charles nodded. "Armaments will be reserved as best they can for the coming confrontation."
"Good. Even divided, the Chinese states are massive. It will take all the might of Europe and Britannia to bring them to heel."
"What of Project Brunhilde?" Charles asked.
"On schedule," V-Two answered. "As I understand it, the neural pathways were the most difficult to repair, but she should be ready before the invasion." There was a vicious grin on the brat's face, joyful hate burning in his eyes.
I am sorry, my son, Charles silently apologized, his face carefully schooled into an equally triumphant mien. The little bastard had already murdered his dear Marianne, then made it worse by lying about it. Now this. Be sure, my boy, we will have our revenge.