Author's note: I am truly, absolutely, exhausted from writing this chapter. Both mentally and physically. This is waaaaaay too much action!

Chapter 52

The first explosion took them by surprise.

By the time the driver had seen the flash of light on his right, and slammed his foot into the brake, it was too late. The collapsing tree, with its bottom-half blown to splinters, fell like a deadweight, crushing the front of the automobile. The car jammed to an abrupt stop, weighed down by the enormous trunk. The windshield shattered inwards, raining the driver and the front passenger with tiny shards of glass.

Behind, the second car skidded, its driver alarmed and confused, spinning the wheel anxiously. But the tires failed to grip the asphalt and the vehicle fishtailed dangerously before slamming headlong into the first. The third screeched to a halt behind it, then the fourth behind the third. Horns blared; headlights blinked. All eyes fixed on the tragic car wreck. Leaves and branches rained down on the convoy, scattering across the hoods like pebbles. It was as if a colossal giant had grabbed a hold of the forest and shaken it with his mighty hands.

Then the second explosion happened.

If the driver of the fourth car had been slower, the tree would have fallen horizontally across the vehicle, smashing the rear passenger seat and the agents sitting in it. But the driver was quick, and the last car in the convoy shot forward to avoid the collapsing tree behind. It crashed into the rear of the third vehicle and sent it careening into the second.

A quadruple collision, obscured by the drifting leaves, falling branches and grey smoke.

Athrun saw it all unfold.

When he turned the corner in his black convertible at seventy miles per hour, struggling to catch up with the convoy.

"Oh god," Cagalli put a hand over her mouth. Just as Athrun slammed his foot into the brakes. Tires screeched loudly in protest and the convertible jolted to an abrupt stop several meters away from the second fallen tree, which now lay across the road obstructing all vehicle access. "Oh shit," Athrun muttered, shaking his head, "shit." Cagalli whipped her head around and stared at him, and was frightened by what she saw in his face – it was a look of plain horror.

Because in that split instant, it had all become clear to the detective.

The convoy was now trapped between the two fallen trees, all four vehicles squashed like sardines in a can, one lined after another. The first had its front hood crushed beneath a tree; the last had its tailgate pressed tight against the tree bark. No way in. No way out. Trapped.

And vulnerable to open fire.

By the time Athrunjumped out of his convertible, a voice was screaming in his mind. This was the plan all along! Those bastards were going to trap the convoy, and take them out one by one. Just like gathering chickens in a slaughterhouse. That was it; that was the plan. As he ran around the hood of his car, he caught sight of the agents and officers emerging from the collision, with bewildered expressions on their faces.

Standing in plain view of the snipers.

"Get down!" Athrun yelled, wrenching open Cagalli's door and hauling her out by her arm. She stared at him, shock making her movements slow. "What's happening, Athrun?" She gasped. He towed her towards the fallen tree and shoved her head down so that she was tucked underneath the curve of the cylindrical trunk. "Get down!" He screamed as loud as he could at the men. Heads turned round to look at him. "Get down! Get out of the line of fire!" He gestured wildly, but none seemed to understand what he was saying. Until he caught sight of silver hair, and saw a look of realization dawn on Yzak Joule's face. Immediately, Yzak sank to a crouch, yelling orders at the agents. But before the rest of them could react, a single gunshot pierced the air and an agent from the first car fell to the ground, leaving behind a red mist of sprayed blood.

Chaos broke out as the agents and officers threw themselves to the ground. Athrun flung himself over Cagalli, pushing her head down and away from the line of fire. A barrage of shots began to rain down on the convoy, piercing metal, shattering windscreens and penetrating flesh. The groans of men dying filled the air, but the gunfire was relentless. The windscreen of Athrun's convertible shattered; the tires exploded. They were not safe there, Athrun thought desperately, there was no shelter from the gunfire. The tree trunk under which they were holed up was shaking and jerking with the bullets punctuating its were flying all over the place, cutting him across the face and arms. They had to move. They had to get out. But where? Where could they go without exposing themselves?

"Come on," he yelled at Cagalli, tugging at her shoulder. There were tears streaming down Cagalli's face and she looked genuinely shaken by the sudden assault, but Athrun felt relieved when he saw clarity in those eyes. They weren't glazed over with fear, and he counted on Cagalli to hold her ground. "Come on," he yelled again, trying to make himself heard over the commotion. "Stay low!" He began to crawl along the underside of the fallen tree, trying to keep himself sandwiched between the ground and the curve of the trunk. He felt Cagalli close behind. They managed to get off the asphalt and were approaching the edge of the forest when Athrun realized that there was nearly two meters of unsheltered area that they had to run across if they wanted to get under the cover of the trees. They couldn't risk it, not with the stray bullets that were still showering down like rain. So he changed course, and as he rounded the bend of the tree, he found that its base had been hollowed out from the explosion that toppled it. Dragging Cagalli over, he started to shove her into the hollowed area. "Stay here," he shouted, "You'll be hidden."

"No!"

He stared in despair as Cagalli kicked out at him and tried to wriggle her way out of the hollow. " . .you," she snapped in staccato tones, but Athrun put a hand over her mouth and thrust her back inside. "Listen," he snapped, "I'll be okay. What I need you to do is stay here! I'll get you later. I promise!"

Cagalli ceased her struggling. She looked absolutely terrified now but Athrun made sure she was tucked into the corner, protected from the gunfire. Then, feeling suddenly afraid, he pressed his lips to her brow and whispered, "Stay safe."

He didn't wait to see her reaction. Ducking, he scrambled around the fallen tree, entering ground zero where the gunfire was concentrated and pausing when a row of bullets smacked the scuffed asphalt at his feet. Now that he had a view of the wreck, Athrun realized that the torrent of shots he had heard didn't come only from hostile fire. The agents and officers, or at least those who were still alive, were returning fire, but there was little that sheltered them from attack. And Athrun noticed too that there was a certain pattern to the gunfire. From the sloping sides of the valley, he saw a muzzle flash and an agent ducked behind the tire of the second car, then rose again from his spot and aimed at the sniper's approximate position. Bang, bang, bang. A triple tap. Then again, a muzzle flash somewhere on the opposite slope and the bullet caught the same agent in the thigh and he fell. Athrun watched as a uniformed officer scrambled towards the fallen agent and hauled him underneath a car, which was in itself a pitiful cover, riddled with bullet holes, its windscreens all shattered.

Then again, muzzle flash on the right, fifty feet away. Then the left, sixty-five feet away. They were all over the place, and Athrun counted at least four different locations from which the snipers were firing. But these were no ordinary foe; it appeared as if they knew the muzzle flash from their rifles would give their location away. So after every shot, they moved, changing positions so that none of the agents or officers had a clue where they were going to be next.

It was like sitting in a slaughterhouse, with nowhere to hide. Just waiting for the axe to descend.

Behind the third car, Athrun spotted Yzak, crouched low, firing rapidly at the midst of the forest. Beside him, Seiran was a quaking wreck, his hands wrapped around his head. An officer fell down dead and Seiran squealed. He shoved the man aside and started to crawl underneath the car, pushing and shoving the other agents that were using the vehicle as their shield, exposing them, including Yzak, to the line of fire.

Athrun scrambled for cover as he heard the whistle of a slug fly narrowly past his head. Keep moving, keep moving, he thought as he skidded across the asphalt and dove under the fourth automobile. A moving target was always more difficult to shoot than a still one. It was a tight fit underneath the vehicle; there were already two agents taking cover under the car and they would fire blindly from their hiding place whenever the onslaught paused.

They needed more hiding places. But where? Where else could they hide?

Athrun peered desperately from underneath his cover, then ducked back as a multitude of shots cracked the asphalt road where his head had been less than a second ago. All they had were four cars, stuck between two tree trunks. What the fuck were they going to hide under?

Then Athrun made up his mind.

"Cover me," he barked at the two agents, then spotting Yzak under the third car, he yelled, "I'm going to drive this car. Shoot the tires!" It didn't make sense, but Yzak just nodded, hunkering down to avoid a shot in his direction.

Athrun rolled out from underneath the fourth car and flung himself into the driver's seat. The car door wouldn't close, so he kicked it aside with his heel. He turned the car key in the ignition but the car spluttered and hissed like an angry animal. A stray bullet ricocheted off the dashboard and missed Athrun by mere inches. Immediately, Yzak and the other agents sent a volley of bullets in the direction of the sniper. Athrun tried again, wrenching hard at the key, and the engine finally growled to life. Ramming the gearshift into 'drive', Athrun spun the wheel like a madman and floored the accelerator. The car shuddered for a second before jerking free of the third automobile and its crushed bumper. Struggling to retain his grip on the steering wheel, Athrun swung clear of the car wreck. He manipulated the fourth car until he could get it aligned with the third, then stamping the accelerator, he shouted over the roar of the engine and the gunfire. "Yzak, now!"

The car shot past the silver-haired detective. A double-tap to each tire. Bang, bang. Bang, bang. The left tires exploded and the sudden outburst of air and the speed lifted the car and tipped it precariously onto its right. Athrun fought the wheel, trying to steady it. With a loud crash, the car rammed over the third automobile, left wheels gliding over the length of the vehicle, ripping off its side mirror. Athrun jammed both feet onto the brake and killed the engine with a hard wrench of the key. The fourth car was now leaning diagonally against the third, leaving a triangular gap between both cars, a sufficient hiding place for them, at least for the time being.

Athrun put his head down as bullets littered the hood of the car he was in. The snipers were concentrating the gunfire on him now. With the car tilted as it was, Athrun was dumped out onto the asphalt from the driver's seat. A row of bullets punctured the road and Athrun struggled to his feet, stumbling around the car and diving for the empty space between both vehicles. All the while, bullets dug holes into the asphalt where his plodding feet had been.

There were already a couple of agents and officers huddled inside, using the automobiles as shields as they fired blindly into the foliage, unable to determine where their attackers were. Seiran was there, and he began to shriek when he saw Athrun crawl in after them. "Where are they?" He yelled, purple hair disheveled, eyes wild. "Call for back up! Call for back up!" He tried to wrestle a cell phone from Yzak, who knocked him aside with a snarl.

"Goddamn it, just shut up!" Athrun yelled as Seiran began to repeat the litany over and over again. He shoved the distraught man between two officers, told them to make sure he didn't do anything stupid, then pulled his own gun from his jacket pocket and flicked the safety off. He was wary of the number of bullets he had and was reluctant to fire randomly into the forest when he didn't have a clue where the snipers were, but what else could he do?

He didn't have long to ponder, because all of a sudden, silence fell over the place like a heavy shroud. The gunfire ceased unexpectedly. Panting hard, ears ringing, Athrun leaned against the hot metal of the car door. What was it? What was happening? A rough hand shook his shoulder and he spun around. It was Yzak and he was saying something. Or yelling. But Athrun had no idea what he was saying because he couldn't hear a single thing.

The gunfire had deafened him, and its sudden end had rendered the entire place eerily silent. "What?" he shouted back, and the look on Yzak's face told him that the silver-haired detective couldn't hear him either. So it was a futile conversation and it wasn't until Yzak thrust him roughly underneath the car, shoving his face up close to the asphalt, that Athrun understood, with horror, what was happening.

From underneath the car, Athrun caught a glimpse of legs running away from the collision, and oh goddamn it, it was Seiran.

And clutched to Yuna Roma Seiran's chest was the silver briefcase.

Suddenly, it was as if all the sounds in the world came rushing back and Athrun could hear again. And the first thing he heard, was Seiran's yelling. The mad man was sprinting across the road, shouting, "Take it! Take it! Take it!"

"No!" Athrun bellowed as he hurled himself from their hiding place and lunged after Seiran. They were both exposed now, wide open. Anytime now, a bullet could come whistling. Athrun just ducked his head and ran, leaping over the bodies of fallen men. No, no no… Seiran was almost at the edge of the forest and Athrun saw a dark shadow move quickly through the trees. "Seiran, no! Get down!" He yelled, but the purple-haired detective just dashed on.

A single gunshot, like the clap of thunder, and Athrun knew for certain that Seiran was dead, even before he saw the body crumple before his eyes.

Athrun was still twenty feet away from the silver briefcase.

Ahead, the moving shadow began to take shape and Athrun realized that it was a man, dressed in dark-green camouflage with a black balaclava covering his face. The stranger was skidding down the slope, ducking around the trees and bushes, heading straight for Seiran's body and the silver briefcase, which was now lying on its side in the dirt. Athrun swung his gun in the man's direction, but the man had a pistol aimed at him too. Instinctively, Athrun knew he wouldn't be quick enough - the man would pull the trigger on him before he could even get an accurate aim.

He was still ten feet away from the silver briefcase.

The crack of a gunshot.

Athrun flattened himself to the ground, cheek pressed tight against the road surface, almost certain that his reaction had been too slow. Yet, there was no searing pain, no bullet tearing through his flesh. Still belly-down on the hot road, he tried to lift his head to see what was happening, but the sound of five more gunshots made him throw his arms over his head to protect it. Basic training; common sense – it was better to get hit in the arm than in the head.

Six consecutive rounds in total.

Still there was no pain. Athrun glanced up quickly, ready to roll to the side if the man's gun was pointed at him. But he realized, to his surprise, that the man was on the ground too, five feet away from the silver briefcase. The six rounds hadn't been targeted at Athrun, but at the stranger. And the man had realized it too. His attention was no longer fixed on Athrun; his head was turned towards the source of the gunfire and when Athrun followed his gaze, he was nearly overwhelmed with panic.

Cagalli was standing at the edge of the forest, some forty feet away from them, both hands on her gun, a look of horror and disbelief plastered on her face.

Six rounds, the voice in Athrun's mind screamed. He remembered his words to her: You make up your mind that that's the person you want to shoot, then you aim it at that person. Doesn't matter if your aim is lousy. Just don't hesitate. Once you've got the gun pointed at him, press down hard on the trigger, all the way down, and put all six rounds into that person.

The broken promise he had made lit up his mind - You won't need to fire this thing if I can help it.

But Cagalli had fired it, and that meant that there were no more rounds in her revolver. She had no means of protecting herself now, after having distracted the man's attention so that Athrun himself wouldn't get shot.

The man was pushing to his feet, eyes still trained on Cagalli. The hand, which was holding his gun, was already moving, and Athrun scrambled desperately to his feet. "Get down, Cagalli!" He shouted, changing course, running away from the silver briefcase and towards Cagalli.

The voice in his mind told him that he wasn't going to make it. It was too late. There was no time. He was still thirty feet away from Cagalli, who stood frozen in the spot, staring wide-eyed at the stranger. There was no way. Too slow. Too slow. Athrun snuck a glance around his shoulder. He saw that the man was now on his feet, stance firm, his gun swinging through a smooth arc. Anytime now, he was going to fix a target on Cagalli. Too slow. Athrun squeezed off two rounds at the man, even as he continued running towards Cagalli, but the man just leaned left and the bullets whistled past him harmlessly. He didn't even look distracted – his gaze was still set on Cagalli; his gun still moving in her direction. What was that? How the hell did that happen?

Willing his legs to go faster, Athrun surged on. Twnety-five feet. Almost there. Twenty feet. "Get down, Cagalli!" He yelled again, but fear, panic, disbelief, whatever it was, had Cagalli rooted to the spot. A glance over his shoulder made his heart stop. The man's gun was in place, barrel pointing straight at Cagalli. Athrun's quick eyes noted that the man's index finger was within the trigger guard; he was going to pull the trigger. He was going to shoot Cagalli. No time. Too slow. Still ten feet away from Cagalli.

Anytime now, he would hear the whistle of the bullet, the sickening crunch as metal impacted flesh, the grotesque folding of the body as it slumped to the ground. No, no, no…

But it didn't come.

Ten feet away, Athrun threw himself at Cagalli, knocking her over. He waited for the excruciating pain of a bullet boring into his flesh, but felt only the burn of scraped knees and elbows as he crushed Cagalli between the asphalt and his body. What happened? He turned and saw the man standing forty feet away from them, just staring. Gun aimed at them, finger against the trigger, but unmoving. Like in a trance.

What was that about?

Athrun swung his gun in the man's direction, and that appeared to shake him out of his stupor, because he ducked the bullet coming his way, snagged the handle of the silver briefcase with his left hand and began to run.

Shit.

Athrun scrambled to his feet, pulling Cagalli after him. "Are you alright?" He brushed back disheveled blonde hair away from her sweaty face, so that he could look into her eyes. Thank god, they didn't look glazed over with death. "Are you alright?" He said again, then realised that he was shouting, and shaking Cagalli with more force than he intended. She was unsteady on her feet, but she put both hands on his shoulders and nodded. "Y-Yes," she stammered, then pointing in the direction that the man had disappeared, she pushed him away. "Go… go!"

Torn, Athrun couldn't decide if he ought to leave Cagalli behind. There were surely more snipers, but the gunfire appeared to have ceased. Glancing round, he noticed that the agents and officers who were still alive, had emerged from their covers, and were now tending to the wounded. Yzak was radioing for ambulances and backup teams. Was it safe to leave Cagalli?

"Go!" Cagalli snapped, shoving him again in the direction of the forest.

That cemented Athrun's decision and he turned and took off, dashing into the midst of the forest. Already there was no sight of the man with the silver briefcase, but a trail of wrecked bushes and trodden grass indicated the stranger's escape route. Athrun followed it, running as fast as he could, legs pumping. In his right hand, he held his gun just in case.

Six minutes into his running, he heard the crash of bushes, not in front of him, but behind him. Spinning around, gun cocked, he found himself face-to-face with Cagalli.

"What the hell are you doing here?" He yelled, completely unable to keep the dismay out of his voice. He had stopped dead in his tracks, but Cagalli didn't. She ran on past him, still on the trail of broken foliage. "I told you," She panted, shouting over her shoulder, "I'm going with you." She ducked under a low-hanging branch and continued onwards, not even turning around to see if Athrun was following her.

Frustrated, Athrun kicked up a nearby shrub until it was dead and scattered all over the ground in bits and pieces, then he started after Cagalli. "Go back!" He yelled, even though he knew what the blonde woman's answer would be.

"No!" Cagalli snapped.

The terrain was getting rougher, and steeper. There were raised mounds and hills and boulders that stood in their way and they had to duck around them. So talking became more difficult, and Athrun just shut his mouth and ran on.

They thrashed through the forest, sticking persistently to the direction that the stranger was running, unconcerned about minimizing the commotion they were causing. And judging from the destruction caused by the man, neither was he interested in keeping quiet.

Ten minutes later, the trees and bushes began to thin out and they both emerged on the other side of the forest. They were on high ground, like standing at the top of a sand dune, and stretched out below them, at the bottom of the slope, was a small, winding road that led out towards the highway.

Glancing downwards, Athrun saw four figures in black skidding down the slope, heading straight for a deep-blue sedan that was parked on the side of the winding road.

And one of them was holding the silver briefcase in his hand.

Author's note: There! So, what do you think about this chapter? There's much more to come, of course, and we're steadily working our way to the meeting between Athrun, Cagalli and Kira. That is, if Athrun and Cagalli can catch up to Kira! Well? How'd you find this chappie? Review, review, review and let me know!