Ch12
Unknown Location, Airborn West of Kyoshi Island
Year Unknown
"MAYDAY! MAYDAY" the pilot called over the guard frequency. "Pan-Am six-two heavy to any available receivers, reports critical malfunction with our rift device. Exact location unknown! We're caught in a typhoon and are flying blind! Reporting fires in our number one and number three engines! Requesting vectors to any available air strips!"
Static. The radios were working just fine, but there was no one on the other end. No air traffic control, and no other aircraft listening. Screams of terror could be heard from behind the doors to the cockpit. The Boeing 747-200 shook violently as the jumbo jet was tossed in the storm. Lightning flashed and thunder clapped all around, the clouds were thick and voluminous, even resembling high peaks and tall mountains. Flying through one would inevitably make the flight even more dangerous than it already was. The windshield wipers swung rapidly, but in vain as their blades were not enough to keep the windscreen clear of water and visible for more than a brief moment. Both radar wise, and visually, they were flying blind. And amid the cloud formations, the four-engined jet seemed microscopic by comparison.
"We need to descend, maybe we can make out coastlines or landmarks," the pilot finally suggested, making the call. The copilot, nervous with the understanding of how risky that was, agreed. As steadily as they could, the crew slowly dropped altitude from their cruising altitude of thirty-one-thousand-feet. The massive wings flexed and groaned and the remaining two engines screamed to fight the storm. Just where the hell did they phase back into? The flight engineer had long given up trying the onboard equipment; none of the location or time devices were giving any reading as to where, or even when, they were currently. Lighting and thunder boomed again, as the stricken bird barrelled through a dense cloud formation. The only thing louder were the screams of terror from the passenger cabins. What was supposed to be a simple flight from Honolulu to Ba Sing Se, turned out to become a nightmare.
The clouds and the non-stop heavy rain made it all the more difficult for the pilots to see! "Watch for traffic," the captain instructed.
"On it," the copilot replied, staring as hard as possible, straining out the front of the jet. He needed to consciously remember to blink.
"Where do you think we are?"
"No idea! I never wanted to fly inter-worldly. I knew it was a bad idea!"
"If you had to guess?"
"I don't know...Bending World? It wouldn't phase us in and out of the same world, right?"
"No clue!-"
"WATCH IT! JUST OFF NOSE TO THE LEFT!"
The pilot turned his head to face where his copilot was alerting him. Collision course!
"HOLY SHIT!"
Republic City / Battleship Yamato Waterfront
2020
"Come on," Jun motioned to Yasuho, "We're running a bit late."
Yasuho ran, trying to keep pace with the agent as he hurried towards a nearby bar. "Who's fault is that? Tell me again why you had to run home and change attire?"
The two of them came to a halt before the darkened facade of a Japanese bar and izakaya that faced the retired Japanese super ship from across the street and plaza.
"The Musashi," Yasuho read the establishment's sign. "A bar and izakaya," she then followed up, reading the kanji characters.
Jun straightened his hat and tucked his phone into the inner chest pocket of his suit jacket. "It's a pretty lively place at night, you know. One of the more popular establishments here on the waterfront. If you want to find a gigantic concentration of salarymen, either traveling from Japan or working abroad here, this is where to find 'em for the nomikai."
The Army officer looked up at the signage again. Posted just below the bar's name was a one-to-one replica of the bow railing of a Yamato-class battleship complete with a golden chrysanthemum seal; identical to the one mounted on the real ship. Just behind the bow was a flag pole that flew the red and white Rising Sun flag of the Japanese navy.
Behind the stack of empty beer and sake bottle crates and kegs that were both stacked and piled just by the front door, waiting to get picked up, a pair of forearm-sized tanuki-rats darted out and passed just by the feet of the couple. Yasuho was startled and took a few steps back. She hated rats. As the two rodents passed into the alley beside the bar, that's when she noticed the wet surface and puddled liquid that the crates stood in. She groaned and winced a little. "Doesn't really give me that vibe," she remarked.
Jun adjusted his tie and cufflinks, then seemed to reach in and adjust the 1911 handgun he concealed in his shoulder holster. "Well..in the day, after the tom-foolery of the night. Every rambunctious establishment looks like a dump. But believe me, she cleans up well at night!"
"That seal," Yasuho said, referring to the chrysanthemum ornament hanging above on the bow, "Is that..real gold?"
"As a matter of fact, it is. Identical to the originals..it's actually solid gold."
"Wouldn't it get stolen? That thing must be worth several thousand, if not tens-of-thousands of dollars! It's too valuable to just carelessly hang exposed like that, isn't it?"
"Well," Jun started to reveal, a slight tone shift, "That ties into the owners a bit, doesn't it? You see, it is worth several thousands of dollars. But, no one, in their right mind, would even dare to even think about stealing it."
Yasuho shot her boyfriend a wide-eyed concerned look.
"Yeah. Don't worry though! Well, you're about to see some of the…quieter, hush-hush, parts of my job. But one of the more interesting ones. Hence the change to an ordinary suit!" Jun straightened his fedora. "Not the place to be flaunting a uniform, afterall."
Yasuho pouted. "You couldn't have told me that?!"
"You're fine," Jun alleviated, motioning with his hands addressing her concern. "The public just..wouldn't want a uniformed member of the government handling this kind of talk. Just, come inside as if you're there for a drink and sit at the bar. No problems to you, I promise."
Yasuho removed her peaked cap, "Okay."
"Watch your step on the way in," Jun said, moving and opening the front door, "I don't think that's water."
Carefully, Yasuho followed Jun into the darkened bar care, stepping over the puddle that surrounded the empty crates and kegs by the entrance. The interior was larger than she had initially believed it to be. There was a large dance floor to the right, and several billiard tables and dart boards. Wrapping around the central bar counter were the numerous tables, and to the left side of the building were the booths that overlooked the table rooms, bar, and stage for when there were live performances; anything from kabuki and noh theater to big band swing and enka. The tables were simple, but were draped in fine linens and the chairs were constructed of a polished teak wood that mimicked the wood used for the ship's deck. The lights that hung from the high ceiling were identical to those found below decks in the battleship, and several metal pipes climbed the walls and snaked around the ceiling, conveying the feel of being aboard the warship. Around the walls were a large variety of pictures. Many were of Yamato in her long service life, showing the ship during her sea-trials at the beginning of the Pacific War, several shots of Yamato in the Bending World; such as moored in the Fire Nation, firing on the Northern Water Tribe in 1942, and fighting during the Battle of Kyoshi Island. Other pictures included images of sister ship, Musashi, from which the bar was named, during sea trials and in her final and intense fighting during the Battle of Leyte Gulf where Musashi was sunk. While there were a few pictures of Yamato post-war, shelling North Korea and the shores of Vietnam in her short tenure as a US Navy ship, these were rare as the bar owners captured their nation's ship in their navy.
Scattered around the dreary center of night life, were a mix of young and old patrons. Smoke rose from cigarette ashtrays on the tables, glasses sat half drunk, and a quietly playing jazz record was played from a phonograph in the far dark corner. The older people seemed to come from the era when Yamato and Musashi were in their prime, straight from the Showa Era, while the younger folk seemed rougher around the edges. So too were the people that Jun approached.
"What is she doing here?" Yasuho could hear the few customers whisper.
"Earth Empire?"
"She has a gun."
"Excuse me, miss," a more imposing member of the staff approached her with no mind to her affiliation and rank. "We don't allow weapons in this establishment, even from uniformed persons."
Her hand went to her holster and rested on it, a bad move to make in normal circumstances but the security staff didn't even flinch.
"Your weapon, please," he requested, holding out his hand.
"Excuse me?" Yasuho opposed. "What about police officers that come in here?"
"Exceptions are made in emergencies. Please," he reiterated. "All confiscated weapons will be returned to you upon leaving.
Yasuho looked at Jun, who had paused in his step, with a puzzled look. The look in his eyes said, "Just go along with it."
Hesitantly, she released her P38 holster from her belt and handed the gun and case over to the staff member. "Thank you for your cooperation," he said, bowing, before walking off to store it. Defeated, Yasuho took a seat at the counter.
"Shogo!" Jun called to the corner booth where a group of shady looking men sat. "You shady bastard! It's been a while!"
The Japanese men who flanked the center person Jun was addressing aggressively stood up, coming to the man's defense. They were younger. Specifically, they seemed new.
"You'll show our brother some respect, you filthy outsider!"
"Who?" Jun questioned, "Him? No I don't think so."
The two men drew concealed switchblades, menacingly while the others stood by ready to join in. Another man from the table Jun had just passed motioned to stand.
"Sit. Down." Jun said, addressing the person behind without turning to face him. "If you know what's best for you."
Yasuho unclasped a pouch that held her plates of steel, ready to jump in at the drop of a hat. She didn't even here the bartender asking what she would like to drink.
Jun, hands tucked in his pockets finally taunted. "Alright big boys, you gonna swing? Swing! You're wasting my time."
The first man charged but, like water, Jun flowed around the first assailant using his attacker's energy against him and directing him into a set of tables and chairs. The second followed, but he was also dodged. He grabbed the attacker's arm and violently slammed it against the edge of the toppled table, forcing him to drop the knife and nearly breaking his arm at the elbow. The hard heel and leather soles of Jun's oxford shoes bashed into the second attacker's face, taking him out of the equation. He would be fine, but that would leave a mark on the young man. The first had just gotten up and, war cry sounding out, charged back at Jun. Fluidly dodging, punching, kicking, and tripping the attacker, in a few seconds the second man was disarmed, beaten, and now pinned to the floor by Jun who held the knife of the second guy at the first's throat. Neither of the two attackers dared to move. As the other men stood up, Jun quickly reached into his jacket and drew his M1911.
"Two is a sparring exercise. The six of you are target practice!" he shouted. The reinforcements seem to freeze, not daring to move another muscle.
Jun, barely breaking a sweat, looked to the center man who was still calmly seated. "New guys?"
The man named Shogo leaned forward to emphasize him looking at the two downed young men. "Those two are fresh," he explained, sweeping a pointed finger between the two of them. "These ones have been around a bit longer."
"Figures," Jun grunted as he stood up and brushed the dust and dirt off his suit.
As he reholstered his gun he realized, understandably, the entire place was staring at them and frozen in place. "What? You've never seen a bar fight before?!" Jun called out, righting a chair that had fallen over in the scuffle.
Everyone quickly returned to what they were doing just before.
"Rest of you," Jun motioned at the remaining men, "Out! And scrape your friends up off the floor! I need a word with your boss."
They only left, reluctantly, after a motion from Shogo. The group shuffled toward the door, hauling off the two downed members as they left the two alone. Yasuho could only wonder who exactly was this guy. "Calpis Sour, please," she requested from the bartender.
"So, what brings the head of the Secret Police to my establishment this time?" Shogo asked while Jun took a seat at the table across from him. "You going to ask a favor from me?"
"I don't know," Jun teased, "Maybe I will. Or maybe today's the day I throw you into the Boiling Rock for gang charges."
"You'll never get those charges to stick, whatever it is you think you have," the boss countered.
"Probably not," Jun admitted, "You are good at covering your bases. But here's the thing, you and I both know I don't have to get them to stick. You'll get booked one way or another."
"Is that a threat?" Shogo confronted.
"That's not what I was suggesting. If that's what you perceive, can't blame you. Rather, I just came here for some inside information."
"Ha," Shogo scoffed. "The yakuza won't be of help to your governing affairs."
"This again from you?" Jun frustratedly sighed. "Look. I get you're trying to save face-"
"Helping you the last time is what got me outcasted by my superiors!" Shogo snapped. "I have lost face! The triad thinks they can push me around! I'm done being your insider!"
Jun slammed a fist down on the table. "Listen here, Shogo! Your face isn't going to be the only thing you lose. I've been doing you favors that you don't even know about, considering your cooperation in the past. Maybe I'll have my officers start kicking in doors along this waterfront. Maybe we'll raid the warehouses of yours in the industrial district. You wanna make enemies with me?" Jun gestured to his girlfriend. "Maybe the Earth Empire will suddenly take interest in the criminal affairs of Mechanized World gangs. I will make your life a living hell, try me!"
During his escalation, Yasuho had made her way over to the table to stand beside Jun. "This man, he's Yakuza?"
"Was. The family he belonged to out of Fukuoka disowned little Shogo here. He and his small organization here in Republic City answer to the original clan in Fukuoka, but he's been kicked down the ladder. Makes his money running bars, hostess clubs, and gambling rings here in Republic City and Omashu," Jun filled in.
"Hostess clubs," Yasuho said, setting her glass down hard. "I hate traffickers. I hate murderers. And I hate disgusting daofei such as yourself." Her words were forceful as her fists clenched tightly.
"She'll gut you, bud," Jun warned. "Shoulda seen what she did to a murderer a few days back."
Shogo was quaking, but he maintained his appearances. Jun knew he had backed the crime boss into a corner.
"What do you want?" Shogo asked.
"I want to know about this," Jun said, producing a wrapped object from his bag and setting it on the table. It was the P1 pistol recovered from the prior crime scene, missing its serial number.
"It's a gun," Shogo answered, obviously. He picked up the pistol and examined it. It had a nice grip, reliable action, and was well balanced. The weight felt nice. "Looks like a German-made one."
"Likely it's not," Jun corrected. "It came from the Earth Empire. Do you know anything about it?"
"Why are you asking me? Ask her!" Shogo countered.
"Is it yours?" Yasuho spoke up. "As in, did you move it into the city?" Jun tapped her on the shoulder.
"Of course not! Guns are hard to acquire! Why would I give something so valuable to some outsider?"
"That's what I figure," Jun supplemented. "But do you know anything about it?! I know you smuggle things in and out of the city."
"I don't." Shogo stood his ground. "You've got the wrong guy."
Yasuho was losing her patience. Jun could see it. Beneath the table he placed a hand atop hers to calm her down. This wasn't a battlefield. Jun knew Shogo to be a reasonable man. It was a relationship of give and take, and they weren't asking the right questions.
"How do you think these would make their way into the city?" Jun asked with a suddenly more level tone. "Road?"
Shogo sat back in his chair. "No," he firmly answered. "Too risky. Trucks get stopped and inspected all the time, and moving them in individual cars isn't cost effective. If it were me, I'd think I'd move them by rail."
"You think they come in by train," Jun asked for clarity.
"Lots of covered and sealed steel containers…lots of cars…no way they'd check all of them. And they're inspected and signed off by the train companies before departure. It just takes one connection."
"You think it's the JR Freight subsidiaries?"
"No. JR is very by-the-book, as Japanese companies are. Very strict. The American rail subsidiaries though. That's where I would go. Someone, a yard worker, a conductor, or an inventory worker trying to make an extra dollar is what I would think," Shogo theorized.
"Seems like you know very well," Jun surmised. "If not you, and not your clan. Then who? And if you don't know, can you find out?"
"This is what got me exiled last time," Shogo interrupted. "What securities will you give me?"
Yasuho lurched forward at the mob boss, "How about you getting to live?-"
Jun stopped her. "What do you want?" He was going to make a deal.
"What can you offer?"
Jun crossed his arms. "Nothing that directly harms or kills. No guns. No drugs. No trafficking."
"Guns are off the table? You sure?" Shogo brought up. He was hoping to get Jun's agreement that moving weapons wouldn't be focused on by the UFDI. They were adept enough to hide that aspect from the police, though.
"Guns are off the table. What you move is your business, but if I stumble across it, you'll get no immunity from me," the chief asserted. "Alcohol smuggling?"
"You and I both know I don't make that much from smuggling alcohol around this city. Those are low value merchandise," Shogo countered.
"I'll turn a blind eye to your gambling rings. I know that's where you get a lot of revenue. If Beifong asks, I'll tell her I got nothing and that I have bigger fish to fry."
"You have my attention," the former Yakuza member announced. The UFDI had been strongly cracking down on illegal gambling centers in recent months, and it was putting a strain on Shogo's circle. "But for us to 'find out', basically acting in cooperation with Big Brother, I'm going to need more."
"Sounds like you have something in mind," Jun called out, his eyes shaded by the brim of his hat.
"I'm looking to expand our territory," Shogo proposed. "Currently, we're setting our sights on the Dragon Flats Borough. I'm not going to say, when, where, and what, but I am hoping to get..a blind eye to our expansion."
"Dragon Flats…" Jun pondered. "That's Triple Threat territory."
"It is," Shogo affirmed. "We're going to push them out."
"Which will be violent," Jun inferred.
"It likely will be…for them," Shogo answered. "Looking to expand our gambling rings and bars to that area."
"Just gang-on-gang?"
"Of course."
Jun pressed his lips together, his eye brows crinkled, and he nodded slightly as he thought it over. "If you can guarantee, that whatever transpires is strictly you and them, exclusively, with no civilian casualties…then fine."
"Wait," Yasuho interjected, gripping Jun's hand. "You're negotiating with him? A criminal? What's your boss going to think?"
"This stays under the table, Yasuho," Jun revealed. "But President Raiko is…more flexible when it comes to my approach to things. He says a lot of things to keep the public happy on stage, but below that, the man, like us, just wants results." Jun gestured to his criminal aid, "And Shogo here, he's got a decent record with us. Gambling, and gang feuding aside. He's made good on his word and is a reason we have brought down high profile and violent criminals. In..many ways..with no recognition, the Yakuza, or atleast the former Yakuza now, have been very helpful. But everything comes with a price, of course." Jun gave Shogo a sideglance. "I take it, we are settled?"
Without saying a word, Shogo extended his hand so the two could shake on it. He took hold of Jun's hand and paused. "Our gambling establishments are immune to the UFDI and we get a blind-eye favor for our expansion into the Dragon Flats," he reviewed.
"...as long as you keep your business strictly between you, and the Triad, in that move..sure," Jun agreed. "Just one innocent life gets harmed, however," he warned, "...and I will bury you. Got it?"
"Of course," Shogo agreed.
Jun and Yasuho both gave the crime boss a silent look of expectancy, both raising one eyebrow.
"Okay. Here's what I have heard," Shogo began, lowering his volume. "Word on the street is, those guns are being moved into Republic City by rail. As I said. From what I've heard, it is likely the Triple Threats that are smuggling them in."
"How? And why?"
"As I alluded to, they mostly come by freight train. But the railyard, especially the freight terminal and the car yard is well in Triple Threat territory. The 'why' though, I am not so sure… But those snakes will do anything for money. They'll do whatever the highest bidder asks them to."
"Have you heard where these guns are coming from? Who they sell them to?"
"No," Shogo revealed.
"Can you find out?"
The crime boss groaned and sighed. He knew this request would come. "I can. I can have my men keep an eye out for interactions. See what comes up."
"I appreciate it," Jun said. "I'll have to spend some time trackside, it seems."
"Mm," Shogo acknowledged. "You know we have guns, surely. But I will say, the small time crime. The individuals, and the wannabe street gangs of nothing more than amateur thugs…the crime rates are steadily going up, and more and more of them are armed. A robbery yesterday just a few blocks down ended with clerks being shot. They're fine though, but still. It seems more common criminals are getting armed."
Jun packed up the handgun and made ready to depart. He wasn't one to stay longer than he needed to when talking with his 'under the table' partners. It was a point of conflict, slightly, for him. On one hand, he was known to be, excessively, tough on crime. Most of the shoplifters and thieves that find it unfortunate enough to land in his line of sight are given maximum sentences; while gang members, stalkers, home invaders, and the sort often end up dead on arrival. Criminals associated with high profile gangs…often disappear… Yet, here he was making a deal with a former Yakuza boss.
"By the way, Jun," Shogo called out as the couple rose from the table, "Specifically, to your girlfriend."
"We're not-"
"Sure you aren't," Shogo cut them off. "I know your type. Anyway, did you hear the announcement this morning? From Ba Sing Se?"
"I did, indeed," Jun acknowledged. "Interesting isn't it?"
"What are your thoughts?"
"Really, it's beyond my scope," Jun answered. "I analyze foreign powers, but don't take action unless we're at war."
"What are your bosses' reactions?"
"To be honest with you, I haven't seen them since early this morning. I'd imagine they're probably throwing a fit."
"Raiko?"
"No, not Raiko. He's probably on the edge of his seat, and anxious. It's the council members that are probably going to throw a fit."
"The police chief and the air nomad."
"Definitely," Jun emphasized. "Especially the younger ones too. Avatar, her band of misfits, and all the new airbenders probably." Jun removed his hat briefly. "Kids, you know. Welcome to actual politics and government."
"Hm," Shogo huffed. "Well, I can't blame them. Long ago, I was also speaking against the government in Japan-"
"Yes, but you're a gang member," Jun likewise interrupted.
"True," Shogo chuckled. "You think they'll act on anything?"
"Tenzin and Chief Beifong, no. But, other Beifong, yes. Something, but I don't know what," Jun replied.
"Suyin?"
"You're caught up."
Yasuho's ears perked up. Suyin Beifong was a prime target of the Army. She wasn't a criminal, but being in charge of Zaofu, a territory that stood in the way of the mission didn't help. To Yasuho's knowledge, and as far as she's been briefed, Suyin and Zaofu weren't targets for destruction..as things stood so far. It was the captain's hope that Zaofu eventually see reason. It was a growing concern of hers that Zaofu would suddenly act out aggressively or slyly. Kuvira was being very generous, as Zaofu was to be the last territory to approach.
"She's been opposing Kuvira's rule from the beginning," Jun spilled. "Rather, she was outspoken when it came time to set a leader for the Earth Empire. Not like she can talk much either, she did turn down the cries of literally everyone to take the role. Kuvira's right in that regard. At this point, I'd be more concerned that she'd instigate something. In another time-line, I feel as though that woman would actively try to assassinate Kuvira in her sleep." He turned to Shogo directly. "Nevertheless, my radar is up and running."
Shogo chuckled to himself, pouring another glass of Yamazaki whiskey. "Now, Junichiro," he accused, "Don't you think you're a little biased in your thought process? Isn't it your job to be…neutral? To doubt what you hear. I'm sure you've said that before. You just take up all that Empire propaganda..among other things." Shogo's eyes shot between the two of them.
"Of course not," Jun defended, holding back Yasuho as she slightly lunged towards the crime boss. "As of right now though, I have no reason to suspect them of anything. If I learn more, then my view may change. That's all. And, I'm not here to get lectured by you!" He returned the hat to his head and now turned to the front door. "Keep up your end of the bargain, Shogo! And remember, not a single innocent life!" The two of them left in a hurry.
Yasuho was, as best as one could describe, irked. She didn't like dealing with daofei, and the final jabs at her country in parting didn't help either. Was that scum accusing her nation of tyrannical doing? Maybe she was over-reading the situation. But for now, she was on high energy.
"Gun, please," she demanded of the security staff that had disarmed her prior.
"One moment, miss-"
"It was one thing earlier. But now I am in an establishment surrounded by potential criminals! I demand my property back, now!"
"Alright! Alright, miss. We're not thieves okay. Here," the man said, being handed back her gun by another staff member. "You have a great day."
"Sure," she said, adjusting her cap, clipping her holster back on to its mount, and taking off. "What was that?!" she asked Jun. "Dealing with criminals?"
"Shhh," he emphasized, now that the two of them were out on public street. He motioned her persistently to the car. To everyone passing, they just appeared to be a bickering couple. It was only when he shut the car door, and the two of them were isolated that he began to engage.
"Things aren't as black and white as they can appear sometimes," he calmly answered.
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" she forcefully tossed her cap onto the dashboard. "Someone like that should be locked up!"
"I know, but even I have to pick my battles," Jun continued to say in a level tone. He knew he had likely struck a nerve.
"He's got dirt on you or something?"
"No, nothing like that," he said, raising both hands. "But, as you know, I have my methods for taking down high profile criminals. Shogo has been very helpful in being a set of eyes and ears in the realm of the criminal underworld. As you just heard, he has a lead on where those guns are coming from. The RCPD isn't even close to coming up with that realization! It will take them months to attain a lead to even find the source. And in that time more people will die. We are one step closer now."
"I can't accept that," Yasuho pushed back, crossing her arms and looking out the car window. "I can't."
The two of them had their own reasons for being resolute against their opponents. For Jun, it was simply a matter of fighting for what he believed to be right and just. Seeing people harmed at the hands of those with mal-intent, specifically the innocent, and then having the perpetrators, in his view, walk away with little-to-no real punishment. For Yasuho, it was similar, but a lot more personal.
"Shogo," Jun began, "Is a man of his word."
"You're going to defend him now. Great."
"I am. Just listen," he emphasized. "That scumbag, even if scum, still has a sense of honor in him. Does he facilitate illegal gambling, alcohol smuggling, among other things? Sure." Jun left out a few other crucial things on Shogo's rap sheet. "Is it excusable? No, it's not. And that's my cross to bear. But in this bizarre relationship of give and take, he has been helpful numerous times, and as a result we've gotten rid of several people worse than him. Murderers, anarchists, potential terrorist threats…remember when the Republic City Metro was bombed by the Equalists?"
"No..I don't," Yasuho replied. "I'm pretty sure nothing like that ever happened."
"Exactly," Jun said. "But it would have! The kicker? Even we, the Intelligence Department, didn't know about that. Until after the fact. He took care of the bombers himself! Apart from some photographs, their bodies were never found. Busy and chaotic day that was. Packed trains. That was the day the Equalists attempted a full-on siege of the city. We were stretched thin."
Yasuho maintained her stance, seemingly unmoving. But she had no words to reply.
"Think about how many could have been killed on that occasion," Jun said, stepping out of the car. He was going to return his case to the trunk, having shuffled Yasuho into the car to try and alleviate her quickly.
As he opened the trunk and set the case in, suddenly a random passerby forcefully bumped into him! Jun was pushed against the car, but not hard enough to alert his partner within. All Jun could recall seeing was someone in a gray three-piece suit. Well-dressed but very forgettable in attire.
"What the hell-?! Hey! Watch it, buddy!" However, by the time Jun had spun around, whoever had bumped into him, intentionally, as they would have had to make a super unnatural detour to do so, had disappeared into the crowds of blue and gray suits of the passing populace. "The lack of respect sometimes," he fumed. It was then that he noticed the small note that had been dropped beside him. Just by his shoe was a folded yellow post-it note.
"We need to talk," it said. There was an address and a time also written, but that was it. X.C. were the only identifying initials left.
Jun tucked the note into his suit jacket and scanned the crowd once again, futilely trying to see if he could spot whoever bumped into him. No luck. He sighed and shut the trunk door.
Airborne, Southwest of Kyoshi Island
1842 AD / 100 B.G.
It was spur of the moment, but Aang didn't know what else to do. He had just learned he was the Avatar, and now, suddenly, the senior monks were going to forcibly tear him away from his teacher and father-figure Monk Gyatso. He felt guilty, running away. But it seemed as though it was the best and only option. Ever since officially becoming the avatar, life suddenly took a turn for the worst. It wasn't a responsibility he even wanted!
Thunder clapped and lightning flashed! It was a terrible storm! The winds blew Aang and his bison Appa left and right, threatening to blow the two of them out of the sky!
"Hang in there, buddy!" he shouted as the storm continued to give them her worst! "We just need to get out of this! Just a bit more!"
Appa groaned, roaring in acknowledgement.
Aang would run away, he thought. That would surely put pressure on the senior monks. By doing so, they'd surely see that he was set on staying with his mentor. Surely, they had to consider his own opinions on the matter! It wouldn't be for long, he thought. Just enough to get the council to change their minds. He'd maybe hideout at Kyoshi Island or the Southern Water Tribe for the time being.
A forceful blast of windshear shoved the bison and master to the left! Another to the right! And another straight down! Aang screamed, now having difficulty keeping grasp on the reins. Appa roared!
Through the thunder, lightning, and hailstorm of rain, Aang could hear what sounded like a sharp shriek and whirr! What was that? He wiped his forehead, to no avail, and squinted as hard as he could to the right. The noise seemed to get louder and sharper. Whatever it was coming from must have been getting closer and closer!
"AAAAHHHHH!" Aang jerked the reins, having split seconds to react.
From the thick and mountainous clouds, emerged what he could describe only as a ginormous metal bird! Its body: white, and its wings: silver! A line of blue seemed to run from nose to tail. It dwarfed him and his sky bison! He could probably fit atleast ten Appas inside! There were lights shining through what seemed to be many windows spread across its body, and beneath its wings were four large objects from which the ear-piercing shriek came from. Through these mechanical objects, the airborne monster seemed to violently eat everything in front of it; clouds and rain were visually sucked into its never ending appetite! And from two of four of these wing-mounted mouths, fire erupted in trail! Its tail towered over them at the, and on it was painted a blue circle, it reminded Aang of looking at a map somehow, as well as the characters that matched those sprawled across the body by the head: PAN AM.
Appa suddenly dropped in height, responding to Aang's input. The enormous metal sky monster sharply raised its left wing trying to avoid Aang. But defensively, frightened, Aang had thrown forth a freakish, forceful, blast of air bending at the beast! The plane at its engines screamed overhead, seeming to barely miss the Avatar and bison as they dropped from below. Aang's airblast was just the excess amount of critical strain needed. His sharp blast tore off one of the four engines, one that wasn't ablaze, and sheared off a sizable chunk of the tail; specifically the vertical stabilizer.
The winds that followed behind the jumbo jet violently threw Aang and Appa from the skies. They were flipped and tossed! As if they had been caught in a vortex! It was the most violent feat of airbending Aang had ever been on the receiving end of to date. He was thrown from the reins, and separated from Appa as the two of them plummeted through the air towards the oceans below.
All Aang could remember in the moment was the enormous metal beast dropping into the next cloud bank. It's deafening shriek eventually getting muffled by the storm, and its lights flickering until they completely turned off. The jet had buried itself in the cloud cover and was gone as fast as it had appeared. The freezing cold of the ocean water was not enough to wake him. But his body seized up. His muscles contracted, flinching from the temperature as the avatar and his bison slipped further and further below the ocean surface into the darkness. He was going to drown.
There was a bright flash of light in the darkness of the deep. Moving on his own, without awareness, Aang, glowing from his eyes and tattoos, wrangled Appa closer to him. Then, bringing his fists together, a thick encapsulating layer of ice formed around the pair shielding them in a protective frozen shell.
Aang would never remember the events just before the fall. He'd remember running away, and the storm, but nothing in the moments before the Avatar state kicked in. The rest was history.