Chapter 29:

"Kira? Can you hear me?"

He opened his eyes slowly. His vision was blurred and he could see shadows moving but he couldn't see enough to make them out. He closed his eyes for a moment then opened them again. This time, his vision was a tad clearer and it took a while more for it to adjust back to normal.

"Kira?" He turned his head slowly towards the voice and when he saw the mop of blonde hair, he recoiled. Was it her?

"What's wrong? Are you alright? Kira?"

No, it wasn't. It wasn't her voice.

He shut his eyes and opened them again, this time trying to focus on the speaker. It worked and he was relieved to find Stellar peering at him anxiously, "Kira? Are you alright?" He nodded and realised there was a foreign pressure on his forehead. Reaching up slowly, he removed the warm towel resting against his brow.

"You were running a fever," Stellar explained worriedly when she saw the questioning look in his eyes.

He nodded again and tried to sit up. His head protested against the movement and a throbbing pain assaulted him from behind his eyes. He pressed his fingers to his brow in an effort to stem the pounding. He was aware of Stellar's arm wrapped around his back, supporting him, and he pried his fingers away so that he could look at her. "How long was I out?" he whispered.

"One whole day," She replied. Her eyes glistened with unshed tears. "You were running a fever and we didn't know if we could give you any medications. And then you started dreaming – one moment you were shouting, and the next you were crying. We couldn't wake you up. Oh Kira, you scared the hell out of us."

He didn't reply to that. He didn't think he had the strength to reply. It was taking all his effort just to concentrate on sitting up and maintaining his balance. Or perhaps it was that he didn't really know what sort of reply to give. He had lots of questions of his own - a ton of questions swimming in his pounding head. Strange images were flashing through his mind – images left behind from the disconnected, varied dreams that he had been in, whilst drifting in the world between consciousness and unconsciousness. What did it all mean?

Stellar tried to press the moist towel to his brow again, but he deflected her gently with a raised arm. "I'm fine," he muttered, giving her a faint smile. A million and one questions, but he would answer them later. He had wasted enough time. Quickly changing the subject, he asked, "Where's Auel and Sting?"

"They're watching Lacus Clyne."

Right, he thought to himself. He had nearly forgotten all about Lacus Clyne. All he had in his head were flashes of blonde hair and amber eyes. He shook his head to clear it as best as he could and glanced around him. He was in a room, boxed in on all sides by walls with no windows. Like a basement.

He recognized the place - it was their hideout. So, they had returned safely. Swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, he took a deep breath and stood up, swaying a little.

"Where're you going?" She asked, concerned.

He glanced back at her as he headed for the door. "Time to make that call."

Athrun watched as Nicol hooked up the various wires and devices to the telephone. "How much time will you need?" he asked.

Nicol raised two fingers without glancing up from his work. "We've got to keep him talking for two minutes," he replied, "at the very least." Athrun nodded and looked on as Meyrin started up the computer system and Shinn uncoiled the wires. Glancing over at Siegel Clyne, he could see that the man was consumed with worry. He was hunched over in the couch, staring blankly at the phone. Just waiting.

Athrun turned back to his subordinates who were busy setting up the tracking system. He felt useless sitting like that. Lacus had been gone for more than twenty-four hours and in his experience, a lot could happen in twenty-four hours. Twenty-four hours was enough time to take a plane across the country. A robbery could be committed in less than an hour. Maybe arson, if given half the time. Sexual assault could take place in fifteen minutes. Murder could take ten, and if carried out by professionals, maybe three would do.

Athrun hit himself hard on the head with the flat of his palm. The sound made his teammates glance up at him in alarm; even Siegel Clyne snapped out of his reverie to look at him and he quickly shook his head to indicate that he was alright.

Damn, don't go there, he thought to himself. Don't go there. Lacus wouldn't come to harm. He had a pretty good idea what this case was about, or rather who they were and what they were was all about the vial and before getting their hands on it, they wouldn't dare to hurt Lacus. She was safe.

For now.

But if they managed to get their hands on the real drug…

He couldn't bear thinking about that.

His watch told him that it was only six-thirty a.m. The day had only just begun and the sun hadn't yet completely risen. The sky on his right was streaked with reddish, gold hues, but the sky on his left was still dull and grey. The cold wind stung his face and threatened to seep through his jacket.

They had broken into the theater at seven-thirty p.m. and Stellar had said that he had been out for a whole day. Judging by the time, Kira was sure that he had been out for thirty-five hours to be exact. More than a day. A lot could happen in thirty-five hours. If the police had found Cagalli Yamato already, then Athrun Zala had to be on the case. A smart detective could get a lot done in thirty-five hours, but Kira was sure that his team had cleaned up good. No clues left behind at the scene. No loose ends. All Athrun Zala would find were dead-ends.

He stepped out of the building and passed through a narrow alley, walking between two low cinder-blocks. He was in an industrial area, a remote place away from the city and the entire vicinity was quiet and secluded, all the buildings around him abandoned warehouses. He kept walking until he had reached the edge of the industrial park, bordered by a rusty fence. Passing under the scratched, rickety signboard, he stepped out onto a dilapidated street, flanked on both sides by shabby shops selling a range of knick-knacks from second-hand appliances to firearms, both legally and illegally-obtained. It was still early and none of the shops were open. Shutters and dark windows lined the street.

Hands deep in his pockets, he strolled onwards, down one street, then another. A right turn, down one avenue. Then a left turn, onto another street, until he saw the phone booth he was heading for.

By the time he stepped into the tight little cubicle, he could feel the strain on his body and mind. Still weak. Still with a million questions. But he hadn't the time. Reaching into his pocket, he drew out a handful of coins, dropped one of them into the slot, then dialed the number he had memorized.

The tension in the Clyne Mansion was so strong that Athrun could imagine seeing it cackling through the place, zipping from one person to another. He was so immersed in his thoughts, so trained on the silence and the attention that he jumped when the phone rang.

"Is that it?" Siegel whispered hastily, glancing at him for directions.

"I don't know," Athrun said, "Just stay calm, Siegel. Remember, if it's him, keep him talking for two minutes. Nicol will be doing the count-down." He gestured at Nicol who raised his stopwatch reassuringly and nodded.

Releasing his pent-up breath, Siegel pushed the button on the phone and the ringing stopped. Athrun raised a hand, indicating for absolute silence from all the other occupants in the room.

Was this it?

"Hello, Siegel Clyne speaking."

The phone was on speaker mode, as Athrun had directed, and the voice that came through could be heard by everyone in the room. It was cold and distant. The voice of a murderer, and it simply said, "Good morning, Mr. Clyne. I think you know who I am."

Author's note: There's the next chapter. Hmm… a little short but yeah, the action will be picking up a little from here! Keep reading, and don't forget to review, review, review!