Chapter Four: Jeremiah Gottwald

Jeremiah Gottwald was Jeremiah Gottwald.

This had to be understood, or he might wonder how he made it through a war zone alone during a full-scale battle. Especially surrounded by hostile civilians. No one formed a lynch mob; no one dared oppose him as he walked with hands in his pockets.

He had his hand near his pistol, just in case, but aside from the endless corpses, there was little to oppose him.

Just like the death squads during the invasion.

Luciano Bradley had proven himself there alongside Gottwald. It was what had convinced Gottwald to take up leadership of the Purebloods. Seeing the future Vampire of Britannia. He'd seen him mow down crowds of civilians while laughing had chilled him to the core.

For now, though, Gottwald had more immediate concerns.

Like navigating the bombed-out and brutal ruins of the Shinjuku Ghetto and getting back to the G1, this was much harder than it ought to have been. He'd landed quite some ways into the shattered ruins. The terrain was rough, bloodstained, and shattered. He'd been able to make a few shortcuts by walking over the wreckage of several buildings.

Now and then, he saw civilians hiding in terror amid the ruins. These he did not shoot, choosing to conserve his ammunition. He judged that he was more useful to Prince Clovis alive than killed by a mob.

"How did they access our weaponry?" muttered Gottwald, hearing the battle intensifying. "The truck was carrying knightmares, but they wouldn't have had access to our signals. Bartley changed the codes, but that did not help. So they could not have been hijacking them.

"It must have been-"

He came around a corner and saw a familiar face. Raising his gun, he halted in surprise. "Villetta?

"Are you alright?"

She was kneeling against the wall, a gun in her hand. "Yes sir, fine."

"Where is your Knightmare?" asked Gottwald.

"Destroyed, sir," said Villetta. "Well, actually, hijacked."

"Hijacked?" asked Gottwald. "What happened?"

"I ran into a student, someone wearing a school uniform," said Villetta. "He said his name was Alan Spacer, the son of a Duke. I got out to confirm his ID, but then someone got me at gunpoint from behind and knocked me out."

"Where was this?" asked Gottwald.

"A few miles north," said Villetta. "Near the subway tunnels where the poison gas was. I was pursuing him as ordered, sir."

"I see," said Gottwald. "Clovis ordered the slaughter of Shinjuku after an engagement with terrorists being taken. This student, are you sure he was Britannian?"

"I thought he was, sir," said Villetta. "It was some distance off, and he didn't look like someone who lives in the ghettos. Actually, he was only a bit scuffed.

"He said he was Alan Spacer, and his Father was a Duke."

Gottwald nodded and decided to put the matter aside for now. The fight was still going strong, and it didn't seem likely one Sutherland would make much of a difference. So long as Bartley responded with basic tactics, losing would be impossible. The enemy would run out of ammunition before they killed everyone in this army. "In light of the complete fiasco this has been on all levels, we will discuss this later, Villetta.

"You should have called it in before getting out of your knightmare. Things have gone poorly for us today."

"They seem to have gone poorly for all of us," noted Villetta. "What do you think happened?"

Gottwald started walking and Villetta walked with it. "Who was it who hijacked you from behind?"

"A girl, I think. I never got a look at her face, but she swore a great deal," said Villetta. "She referred to her companion as Alan, so it may be that was his real name."

"It could be an alias," noted Gottwald.

"She didn't strike me as very sane," said Villetta. "Alan Spacer, whoever he is, obviously was smart enough to figure out how to operate a knightmare."

"The son of a Duke might have access to data on train lines," noted Gottwald. "Why weren't they redirected?"

"It may be that Bartley missed something," noted Villetta.

So this was Bartley's blunder, was it? Well, even he should be able to clean this up. Still, the revelation had led to some new realizations.

"A terrorist," muttered Gottwald.

"What?" asked Villetta.

"You remember that transmission?" asked Gottwald. "Milner ordered Suzaku Kururugi to execute a terrorist. That was when he cited a terrorist in a truck. Only it was rigged to explode.

"You had gunfire and everything cut out.

"Something happened out there."

"We'd better have a look then," noted a voice.

Jeremiah looked up and saw an orange-haired figure come forward. He was a slim man and his hair fell over his face. "Kewell?"

"I thought I might check on the truck," noted Kewell.

"Then we're here on common purpose," said Jeremiah. "We're out of the battle anyway. It definitely came this way. Keep your pistols on hand. Lead on Villetta."

And lead on she did, the three of them retracing their steps. Together they walked through the shattered remnants of the civilization. You could see some older types of architecture now and then, broken ruins. The Japanese had used to build buildings to last. While Britannian structures were built faster. Though it took more maintinance.

Eventually, their path took them into the Old Subway tunnels. Here they turned on mobile flashlights and walked as quickly as they could. Gottwald was aware they might be ambushed at any time.

"I remember I caught a glimpse of a motocycle. It had two people on it," said Villetta. "It matched the description of a machine which left Babel Tower. Especially after its owner robbed a chess game in a drunken stupor."

"Where were the police?" asked Kewell in disgust.

"Dead, apparently," said Villetta. "There was a shootout with the SWAT."

"One gunman shoots up the SWAT," noted Jeremiah. "Then escapes on a motorcycle and picks up a new passenger. Then they arrive here in Shinjuku."

"That can't be coincidence," noted Kewell. "Could they have been working with the terrorists?"

"Not from the looks of things," said Villetta.

"What makes you say that?" asked Kewell.

Villetta pointed.

They had come on the truck which they had pursued on the highway. It was a twisted wreck by now, badly burned out. The wheels were shot out and the windshield shattered. Meanwhile, a body was lying in the front. The door was shot full of bulletholes and charred corpses of the royal guard were here.

Some of them were riddled with bullets and a SWAT submachine gun was lying there.

"Don't touch anything if you can avoid it," said Gottwald. "Clovis will want this place locked down later."

"Look here," said Kewell. "These bulletholes were not made by equipment used by the Royal Guard. That or their Honorary Britannian escort. They traveled light.

"It looks like the kind of bullets you'd see from a submachine gun."

"Here's the gun," said Villetta. "And the royal guard. From the looks of things they were shot from behind. Someone threw the weapon away."

"Look around for Suzaku Kururugi's body," said Gottwald. "He was the one who reported the finding of the poison gas. I can't imagine Milner would leave him alive after the truck exploded.

"Someone would have shot him."

"What about the other Honorary Britannians?" asked Villetta. "Where are they?"

"I don't know," said Gottwald. "If memory serves, Milner ordered them to form up with him to take the poison gas."

"I don't see any of them among the dead," noted Villetta.

"Kewell, check the surrounding halls," said Gottwald. "But don't do anything heroic. If you see anyone, come back to us. If you find someone injured, give them medical treatment."

"Sir?" asked Kewell.

"They might be a valuable witness," said Gottwald.

Kewell nodded and headed off.

Gottwald considered taking up smoking and then remembered what it did to your lungs. He considered drinking himself into a stupor when this was over, and decided against that too. Prince Clovis would need him more than ever for what came next.

"Villetta, what have you found?" Gottwald asked.

Villetta was kneeling by a burnt out and wrecked motocycle. "There are tracks here. Three sets. One for this truck, one for the motorcycle, and one for another truck.

"From the looks of things someone parked a little way off. They skidded to a halt, so they were obviously in a hurry. I can't make anything else out. The explosion probably destroyed most of the rest."

"And a dead driver. This man was shot from the side. He was thrown through the window after the machine crashed," noted Gottald. "This was a hijacking.

"Someone tried to take the poison gas from the terrorists en route."

"Why?" asked Villeta. "And how could they have known their route? Who could be mad enough to try and seize a shipment being pursued by the Britannian military?"

"Gottwald, we have something over here," said Kewell, coming into the other room.

"What is it?" asked Gottwald, annoyed now at the prospect that someone had gotten here first. It meant the evidence had already been tampered with. Following it could be difficult, or even impossible.

Assuming they wanted to follow it.

They found the missing Honorary Britannians. They were lying in a pile, having been gunned down rather brutally. "This looks like Milner's force.

"Nineteen of them." said Villetta. "There ought to be twenty."

Gottwald noticed some of them. "Some of their clothes have been stripped off. See here, this one has lost his flak jacket. And this one is missing his helmet and he his pants.

"Someone must have stripped intact pieces off them.

"Perhaps to impersonate an infatryman."

"They must have been disposed of to tie up loose ends," said Villeta. "To ensure they didn't talk."

"But where is Kururugi?" asked Gottwald. "He was ordered to shoot a terrorist and then the firefight broke out."

"Could Kururugi be the person I saw on the bike?" asked Villetta.

"No, Kururugi was en route with his squad at the time. There is no way he could have arrived here, gotten back. Then come back in that time," said Kewell, who knew more about maps and logistics.

"So Kururugi and this terrorist are the only people alive who saw this," noted Gottwald. "It must have been the terrorist who stripped these off.

"No doubt to pass as one of our own."

"Who released the poison gas, though?" asked Kewell. "And why would the elevens bring it all the way back to the ghetto just to unleash it on their own people."

"Perhaps to set up a matyr," noted Gottwald. "This ghetto can't have been of much use to them militarily."

"There is no poison gas," said Villetta.

"Are you sure?" asked Gottwald.

"Lord Gottwald, I have seen chemical weapons in action," said Villetta. "We all have.

"If poison gas had been released then we would not be able to do this investigation safely. Obviousy this 'her' that Clovis spoke of was contained in the machine."

"Are you suggesting Clovis ordered this place slaughtered just to cover up a mistress?" asked Kewell. His tone sounded rather horrified.

"Is it truly so hard to believe?" asked Villetta, sounding surprised he'd ask that.

"Villetta, that is not the kind of thing one should say about their superior officer," said Gottwald. "Prince Clovis is not a man I have much respect for, but he is still the Viceroy of Area Eleven as chosen by the Emperor.

"It is not appropriate to cast such aspersions on his character without hard evidence."

"Yes, Lord Gottwald," said Villetta.

Not a man Gottwald had much respect for?

He'd said that without thinking about it, but it was true. As a member of the Britannian Royal Family, Clovis had Gottwald's utmost respect. However, the truth was he was working for him because Lelouch and Nunnally Vi Britannia had died. Murdered by the Japanese.

"'Her' might have been a code for something," said Kewell.

"Or someone," noted Gottwald. "No, this poison gas capsule is airtight. Anyone inside it would be dead and the body would be here. Ergo, it was either code..."

"Or the terrorists took the body," noted Villetta.

"Why would you..." Kewell halted. "Some sort of eugenics scheme? What would Bartley be doing working with that?"

"What now is a better question," noted Villetta.

"We need more information," decided Gottwald. "We'll have to find Suzaku Kururugi for a start and this terrorist. If we can find them, we can learn what exactly happened here. Let's go.

"We'll have an investigation team sent out here later.

"For now, we at least know more than we did."

And they began to move off.

"That's why the terrorists got organized all of a sudden," realized Villetta suddenly.

"What do you mean?" asked Kewell.

"Whoever did this is obviously a third party," noted Villetta. "So they must have come here to try and hijack the truck. Then they were dragged into the fight when Clovis ordered the attack.

"They must have taken control of the resistance."

"So the terrorists leader is the one who shot me down," noted Gottwald. He was remembering the friendly fire incident. Kewell had been knocked out first. "The Glasgow changed direction rather suddenly. It must have been leading me into an ambush."

"But how did they make contact?" asked Kewell.

Gottwald thought of something. "Villetta, how did this Alan Spacer make contact with you?"

"He contacted me on an open channel using a radio," said Villetta.

"Who is Alan Spacer?" asked Kewell, doubtfully.

"Perhaps a communicator taken from the terrorist truck," said Jeremiah. "If they looted one, they could have used it to make contact. I doubt anyone had time to figure out they attacked the truck." He wished they'd had time to do a more thurough investigation.

"Then they deliver Sutherlands to them as a demonstration of generousity. Especially after saving the Glasgow," noted Villetta. "The Glasgow is then used to run interferance while they equip themselves.

"Whoever did this has to have studied at least some tactics. They obviously know what they are doing."

"Suzaku Kururugi would have probably studied tactics," noted Kewell. "He was, sort of, Japanese Royalty."

"What do you mean?" asked Jeremiah.

"Milner killed his squad and likely tried to kill him," noted Kewell. "Suzaku obviously didn't want to kill whoever he was ordered to shoot. He claimed he was a hostage. Maybe he killed Milner and then decided to take revenge on Clovis for sending him to die.

"It's what I would do."

"Is that really something you should say, Kewell?" asked Villetta, sounding surprised.

"If my superior officer tried to murder me and it was me or him, I would want to take him with me," said Kewell. "Especially if he was an eleven occupying a Britannian province."

"Kururugi is the son of the late Prime Minister of Japan," noted Gottwald thoughtfully. "He was marked as expendable on the lists. If memory serves, he broke contact with his family and joined us. It does seem possible that he might have made common cause with our gunman.

"But where does this Alan Spacer fit into things?"

No one had an answer.

And since none of them had communication. They could do nothing except make their way together. The fight was still going strong, even as the day wore on. The wreckage of Sutherlands could be found in squads here and there.

Obviously Bartley was doing worse than Jeremiah had anticipated.

"...What is going on?" asked Kewell.

It was as they got within sight of the G1 defense line that they saw it. A vast line of knightmares, lining up and moving forward with guns lowered. They had formed a huge circular line. "Who ordered them to break formation?"

"Is that a circular firing squad formation?!" asked Villetta. "What are they doing?!"

"We've got to call it off," said Jeremiah. "This is insanity. They won't-"

At that moment, as the knightmares homed in, something broke. The ground beneath their feet shattered underfoot. Falling downward, Jeremiah found himself in freefall. Villetta caught him by the hand and he braced his feet against the wall. Looking back, he saw the concrete tumbling down into the subway tunnels below.

Where was Kewell?

"Lord Jeremiah!" said Villetta, pulling her up.

"Thank you," said Gottwald, looking down. Kewell was below them on what looked like a ledge. Beyond, they saw the ruins as they were, leveled completely. Broken Sutherlands were all about.

"Kewell, are you alright?" asked Jeremiah.

"I'm fine," said Kewell. "I caught myself on a ledge. I don't think I can get up to you from here."

"Damn it," said Jeremiah. "Can you get down?"

"I think so," said Kewell.

"Good," said Jeremiah. "Go down there and see if you can help any injured. See if you can organize our troops into a column and get them out."

"Where are you going?" asked Kewell.

"Prince Clovis is exposed and we have several dangerous elements," said Jeremiah. "I have to go ensure his safety. If those terrorists push on the front, we could be hard put to it."

"Good luck," said Kewell.

"You as well," said Jeremiah.

And they hurried off.

As they did, they saw across one street a column of Sutherlands. They were moving in a rough formation, but without the integrity of a properly drilled troop.

"So that's the main terrorist column, is it?" asked Villetta. "How many could you take if you had a Sutherland?"

"With a defensive position?" asked Villetta. "I think I could tie them down. Probably kill one or two."

"We should be able to stop them by ourselves," noted Gottwald. "Assuming the defense is completely abandoned."

And he hurried off.

"You don't really Bartley would be such a fool, do you?" asked Gottwald.

"There is very little I would put past the man in terms of military incompetence," said Gottwald. "Come on, we'll see if we can get a spare Sutherland."

And then came the white knightmare. It rushed out in a blur and smashed the frontmost terrorist, letting the pilot eject. Then it set to work on the others, who fired wildly and scattered. As they did, they ended up getting picked off one by one.

"What the..." said Villetta.

"The new weapon," noted Gottwald. "The one Lloyd Asplund was working on. They must have found a pilot."

"Whoever he is, we don't have time to buy him a drink," said Villetta.

"I agree," said Gottwald.

When Gottwald arrived, he thanked God for Lloyd Asplund's invention. There was virtually no sign of any guard at all. No heavy equipment was left out here, and it looked like everything had been thrown at the terrorists. One could only imagine the billions of dollars in damages someone was going to have to file paperwork on.

The only defense Gottwald could see were two men by Lloyd Asplund's truck. And one man standing by Clovis' G1. Jeremiah went up to the latter. "Soldier, report."

"General Bartley assigned me to guard the front, sir," said the soldier.

"By yourself?" asked Villetta. "Alone?"

"We're shortstaffed," said the soldier. "Most of the infantry haven't come back yet. Lord Asplund asked for two of us to provide him some security. He has a larger staff and Clovis is surrounded by armed men.

"The officers have guns. So I-"

"It was your call to make," said Jeremiah. "Has anyone passed this way?"

"No sir," said the man. "No one has come in or out."

"Keep guard," said Gottwald. "Villetta, I want you to get to the communications relay. See if you can make contact with Kewell and see to it that we get as many of our people out as possible."

"What will you do?" asked Villetta.

"I'm going to see Lloyd Asplund about that knightmare," noted Gottwald. "I want to know why no one mentioned we had a pilot for it."

With that he hurried off. The walk took him to the opposite side of the area.

Getting to the doors, he entered with a nod to the soldiers who let him pass without a word. He founed Lord Asplund and Cecile reading over data together.

"Lord Asplund?" asked Jeremiah.

"Highest ratings I've ever seen, Cecile," said Lloyd. "I must say, Kururugi seems to have done very well. Far better than anticipated. He truly is a first class devicer. I think we'll have to do more work with him."

"Are we sure the machine won't affect his health?" asked Cecile.

"Well his vitals are all stable," noted Lloyd. "But it will have to wait for a more in depth checkup. Oh well, sacrifices must be made."

"What is going on here?" asked Gottwald. "What are you talking about?"

"Oh, Lord Gottwald," said Cecile. "We were speaking about our new devicer for the Lancelot, Suzaku Kururugi. We found him wounded on the battlefield and didn't have any better alternatives so-"

"What?!" said Jeremiah. "He's the son of the late Prime Minister of Japan who has only recently been shot in the back by his commanding officer! On Prince Clovis' orders! And you've put him in charge of a super-advanced fighting knightmare!"

Cecile smiled nervously. "Erm... well it sounds bad when you say it like that."

"DID YOU LEARN TACTICS FROM MONTY PYTHON!" roared Gottwald. "Might I remind you that our forces are nearly exhausted. And if he decides to kill us all and phone up the JLF, we are going to have a devil of a time stopping him.

"Recall the Lancelot immediately, I-"

And then came the sound of gunshots from the direction of the G1.

"Stay hidden," said Gottwald.

And he drew his pistol and hurried out of the G1. The walk took several minutes and he saw a figure step out of the G1. Checking his boots, he walked off before Gottwald could call to him. He was wearing the uniform of an Honorary Britannian.

The corpse of a soldier was left behind.

"Stay where you are!" said Gottwald, drawing a pistol.

The figure bolted.

Gottwald fired twice as he headed toward the outskirts of the ghetto. As he did, however, the figure got into the ruins and leaped over a wall. Gottwald halted, considering going after him. Then, considering that would leave the G1 defenseless, he turned around to head to the doors.

"Lord Gottwald, we have a problem," said Deitard Reid, hurrying over.

"Mr. Reid, what is going on here?" asked Gottwald.

"Terrorists attacked Clovis," said Deitard. "They took my camera man, Rock hostage, and killed everyone there."

"Oh no," said Gottwald. "How many?"

"Two," said Deitard. "One a woman with red hair and the other was wearing an Honorary Britannian uniform with a gas mask. They broke up a few minutes ago and I was able to slip away."

Gottwald drew his pistol and saw the two soldiers from before hurrying up to him. Motioning to them, they entered the room. Walking down the civilian hall, Gottwald saw party decorations. Ones' which had been stuffed away for the battle. A neverending bout of bread and circuses.

Now they stood desolate and might as well be stained in the blood of so many soldiers. How many men with families had been slaughtered by terrorists in this orgy of violence. And Clovis had been partying, like he always did when he unleashed it.

Jeremiah was sure of it now.

He was here for lack of a better option.

Scanning the halls, he checked each room in turn, hoping to find survivors. But it looked like everyone had fled, almost without a fight. Looking to the two faceless soldiers, he nodded and they hurried up the stairs to the bridge. Coming to the left door to the throneroom, Gottwald slammed a fist on it.

"This the police! Open up in there!" said Gottwald.

No response. It was locked.

"Blow the door!" said Gottwald.

A man set explosives by it. Stepping back, around the corner they activated them. A moment later they pressed the button. A full-blown explosion rocked the hall and Jeremiah hurried around. The wreckage of the door was there, but as he stepped out, someone opened fire.

A noise like thunder echoed in his ears. Stepping back, Gottwald waited as the rattling of machine gun fire reechoed.

"I'M GLAD I KILLED THE BASTARD, YOU MOTHERFUCKERS!" screamed someone incoherently.

"Motherfucker, you think you can take me down you war criminal pureblood pieces of shit! I'M REVY FUCKING TWO-HANDS! I KILLED PRINCE CLOVIS! I CUT HIM TO TINY PIECES!

"I-" Her gun clicked empty. Gottwald rounded the corner in a risk and rushed out. "Oh shit Jeremiah Gottwald."

Before she could move, Gottwald punched her in the face. The blow sent her flying across the room to land to the left of Clovis before slumping down. She was covered in blood, and coming near her, Gottwald saw her eyes empty and the smell of alcohol.

"She's obviously hysterical," said Jeremiah. "Arrest Suzaku Kururugi, immediately."

"What makes you think it is him?" asked the soldier. "Couldn't she be the only accomplice?"

"Oh come on, she's clearly on drugs," said Jeremiah. "Do you think she could have pulled this off on her own? Find Suzaku Kururugi, get him out of that knightmare and secure him in a cell.

"Now!

"We can investigate matters once the situation is cleared."

The men hurried out. Gottwald scanned his area for anyone else and saw a number of bodies lying by the side of the room. An eleven was sitting there, hands tied. Rock, he presumed.

Someone groaned.

"Ugh..." moaned a dark-skinned figure.

Jeremiah headed over. "Bartley?

"You're alive."

"Yes, this young man gave me medical treatment," said Bartley. "A bullet proof vest did the rest."

"You, you saw what happened here?" said Jeremiah. "Describe it?"

"I'm the camera man for Mr. Reid," said Rock. Bartlety nodded in confirmation. "We were trying to get information on the operation. All of a sudden, she burst in guns a blazing. She killed everyone except us and left Bartley for dead.

"Then she killed Clovis.

"That was when the man in black came in. He wore an Honorary Britannian Uniform."

"What happened then?" asked Gottwald.

"They had an argument," said Rock. "The man in black wanted to interrogate Clovis and Revy had shot him before he had a chance to. Apparently he was looking for information.

"He checked the computer console and downloaded information from it.

"He seemed interested in information about the Empress Marianne and her children. Then he walked out and Revy started drinking herself into a stupor."

"Revy?" asked Gottwald, raising an eyebrow.

"That is what he called her," said Rock. "She didn't call him anything."

"I can confirm this," said Bartley.

"We'll have to check the security footage," said Gottwald.

Hurrying over to it, he halted and his eyes widened.

There was an image of a boy. Violet-eyed with black hair, looking across a chessboard. It had been painted by Clovis during a game the two had played. A few days before the Empress Marianne was assassinated. The boys face looked covered in blood by what was on the screen. Looking back, Gottwald saw just how the Prince had been disfigured.

"See if you can recover it," said Gottwald. "How could she have gunned down this many armed men?"

"Most of them fled while I was trying to pull my gun," said Bartley.

"Disgraceful," said Gottwald. "No matter. Get something over Prince Clovis so his body is not in the open for this." Grasping a violet curtain from the wall, he tore it off and threw it over the Prince's body.

So far as Gottwald could tell, this was what happened;

Suzaku Kururugi had joined up with the Honorary Britannian regiments. Possibly out of a desire to advance in rank. Clovis had him marked as expendable and Milner attempted to murder him.

However, Suzaku had run into someone he knew near that Truck. There was a firefight, and Milner and his men were killed. Now vengeful and enraged, Suzaku had opened communication with Villetta. All to hijack her knightmare. Revy had been his partner in a de facto alliance. Suzaku then orchestrated the Shinjuku Massacre and proceeded to head to kill Clovis. Or take him hostage? Clovis might have been worth a ransom.

Obviously he had quarreled with Revy and their de facto partnership had broken up.

But who was Alan Spacer? Villetta would have known an eleven from a Britannian. Even if Suzaku could pass for a Britannian, where had he gotten a school uniform? And why had he needed to loot the corpses of his comrades? He would already be outfitted and obviously Revy wasn't.

There were too many unanswered questions. Gottwald needed time for a full investigation.

"Well, he'd better have a better name for this man in black or there will be hell to pay," said Gottwald after a moment.

"What about her?" asked Bartley.

"Get me anything you can on her, Bartley," said Jeremiah. "And send her to a maximum security insane asylum until we know what to do with her."

"She's a regicide," said Bartley.

"She's insane," said Jeremiah. "The Empress Marianne pushed through certain laws on that. One of them is that the criminally insane cannot be given the death penalty.

"We can discuss the details of her imprisonment later."

She didn't look like an eleven.

She looked Britannian, with a hint of Chinese.

It just posed too many questions.