Chapter XIII: Crash and Burn

AN:

Hey there, Fan-fic-folks!

Another dramatic one. I put these poor kids through too much sometimes. Heh.

Thanks for reading and, as always, please review.

Asamando was a unique place. Situated in what used to be Northern Ghana, it was one of the few places where ghouls were accepted. Metahumans who ate flesh tended to be at the very least disliked in most places, but in Asamando, they were royalty.

Literally. Hereditary matriarchal monarchy. For all their anthropophagy, I liked their style. More places needed to be lead by powerful women.

We'd shuttled in by a tiny bi-plane from an adjacent nation, piloted by the shiniest dwarf I'd ever seen. The man practically glowed. And his clothes were even brighter.

The cabin was enclosed, separate from the cockpit - though more like a taxicab than a full private jet. It was a little old and worn, but serviceable.

"We're coming over the border now. It'll be twenty minutes to touchdown in Nyamkopon." The pilot reported. I never did get his name.

Loud sliding sounds came from somewhere around us, and the pilot swore. "They have a target lock!"

"Target lock?"

Missiles rammed into the side of the plane, exploding immediately and blowing a hole in the side. One of the wings was gone almost immediately, torn off by the wind force and lack of fixtures holding it on.

Frankly, I don't remember much of the next few minutes. Just screaming air and bright flashes. Then the crash. Then nothing.

—

I rolled out of the crash and flat onto my back. Pebbles and scrub dug into my back, but I was alive. It really was astonishing how low my standards had gotten. But you know. Alive was good. It'd do for now.

I lay there for a while, breathing deeply, feeling aches and pains in every bone I had, until Chloe's face appeared in my vision. "You alright, Ice?"

"I'm fine." I breathed out deeply, and something in my chest hitched. I scowled as Chloe smirked. I very emphatically reiterated, "I'm fine."

She snorted, and from this distance I could see up her nose as her nostrils flared with the gesture. How utterly gauche. "Right. Sure you are. Want a hand?" I took her proffered hand and let her pull me up off my feet before depositing me neatly on the ground. That thing in my chest screamed with the motion, and it took everything I had to stay quiet. When I was upright, I swayed with the effort, Chloe effortlessly leaning in to secure me. I glared at her, and she just smirked again.

Max was standing off in the distance, looking at something on her console. "Is the pilot..?" I asked, already regretting it.

"Very dead." Max responded. "Be happy for him that it was quick."

We heard sirens in the distance, and I took a look around. A quick hack later and all the security cameras were wiped and the plane exploded even further.

We were a civilian plane, and aside from any flight plan the man had plotted, completely unpublicised. Asamando had hardly started shooting down tourists, so something else must've happened. Either a mistake, or… "The Prescotts."

"What?"

"We need to find a place to watch the wreckage. Maybe that building?" I pointed to a nearby multi-storey tower. "Missiles shot us down. It makes no sense, unless they knew it was us. We don't have any enemies in Asamando, except-"

"Except Sean Prescott. Or whoever the drekhead paid, anyway." Chloe finished. Max just nodded quietly beside her. "But why do you wanna-"

"Because, if they're official Asamando Law Enforcement, we know to avoid them. If they're Saeder-Krupp, we can follow them."

"Why? I mean, do we even know if the local SK would have anything to do with it? Shouldn't we just avoid them? No point pokin' the dragon, pun intended." I gave Chloe a look, but the girl just shrugged and continued. "Nathan-" He appeared. "Would you have put it anywhere near an SK facility?"

He thought for a minute. "Maybe. If I was desperate. But I'd bet money it's somewhere else. I'd've dropped it somewhere."

I sighed. "I guess we really are getting out of here then."

—

"Do you remember anything new? Anything seem familiar at all?" I asked, as we walked down yet another street.

Nathan shook his head, staying to the shadows. "Nothin' yet. We could try a bar?"

"What?"

He snorted. "Come on. If I came here, scared to shit and trying to hide a hoard, then I was obviously gonna hit the bar."

Shit, okay. I sighed. I couldn't disagree. "That's a good point. Right." I turned to Chloe and Max. "Where's the cheapest, tackiest, most obnoxious place in town?"

Nathan beamed. "The woman knows me."

Unfortunately.

—

I strode into the bar. The place was indeed cheap, tacky, and obnoxious. The kind of place Nathan would be right at home. The walls were rough hewn metal, holes patched with galvanised iron. The music was pounding and dirty, but intensely low quality.

And we got the eye of every person in there the moment we came into view. Nothing violently obvious - nobody stared, or pulled a weapon - but very very unsubtly aware of our entrance.

Chloe strode over to one of the seedier corners and began chatting with a woman in a low voice. Max and I hit the bar. The first bartender, an older human woman, greying in her temples and lines at her eyes, watched us approach before asking us, "What's your poison?"

Max ordered a drink, and after a pause, I followed suit. Bartenders always liked you more when you were spending money. Of course, they liked you less when you were too drunk, so it was a somewhat kronenbergian ouroboros of contradiction.

"We're looking for someone." I gave a quick description of Nathan.

The bartender shook her head. "Don't know them. Try asking around."

So, we did. Most of them pretended to only speak Spanish or Portuguese, sometimes flipping when I then proceeded to ask them questions in either language. When they flipped into Dagbani, I asked again in the same language. They still pretended not to understand. I got the message.

Finally, a short, dumpy man in the corner called us over. He looked almost ratlike, clearly a ghoul but on the weaker, scurrying end of things. "I know something that may be of use to you, lets talk more privately."

Max and I followed him over to a corner booth, and were quickly joined by Chloe. "Whatcha doin'?"

"Talking to someone who may know something." I responded, gesturing to the man.

He blinked at me, drained whatever was in the glass in front of him. "Who me?" He asked, looking genuinely and worryingly confused.

"Yes, you." I snapped, "You called us over saying you know something."

The man shrugged. "For 500 nuyen, I might know something."

I scowled at him and whirled, striding back to the bar, ordering and downing another drink.

One of the bartenders, a tall male troll with horns decorated by ribbons and cords, laughed at me. I turned and glared at him, and he just held up his hands - still laughing, the asshole. "What?" I demanded.

"You know nobody's gonna talk to you, right? You look like trouble." A smile, just a little too wide, a little too cruel. "Or dinner."

Ghouls.

I sighed. "Look, I'm just looking for my ex-husband."

The bartender snorted. "Bad breakup?"

"He died." And still didn't have the good grace to have it stick. "Then I found out he left some ridiculous worldwide breadcrumb search for me and it's been nothing but-"

He looked at me suddenly, eyes wide. "Wait, you're Vic?"

I blinked in honest surprise. …the hell? "Yes… that's me?"

"Nate talked about you all the time!" He paused, frowned. "I… honestly always thought you were a guy."

He looked me up and down as I stared in disbelief back at him. "You what?"

"Right. Anyway. Gimme a sec, I think I got your breadcrumbs." Moving way quicker than I'd seen any troll move, he vanished into the back. I looked awkwardly between my two companions - Chloe was openly trying to swallow a laugh. Her lack of subtlety was pretty much deliberate, at that point.

"What?" I snipped at her.

She swallowed another laugh. "Sorry, sorry. But I think that guy was flirting with you."

"Flir- no, he really wasn't." I shuddered. I looked to Max who just shrugged and, wisely, stayed out of it. "No. Just. No."

"Hey baby, I got your breadcrumbs right here." The troll drawled, a not-half-bad impression of the man's accent. "It's like the worlds worst porn trid dialogue."

"And how would you-" I shook my head. "Actually, on second thought, please don't answer that."

"Probably for the best." Chloe snorted. "Maxie's search history would probably traumatise you, nevermind mine."

Mercifully, the guy came back out lugging a surprisingly big box, maybe the size of a hatbox. "Here. Don't open it here. I don't want the trouble."

The room was still half-watching us, so I agreed. And I really needed to not have to go back to that conversation. Jesus Christ. I took the box from him and passed it over to Chloe. After some hurried thanks, we headed out.

"So, if we aren't getting this shit done there, where are we going?" Chloe asked, and Max nodded in agreement. Before I could respond, Chloe continued, voice meandering the further through her sentence she got, "I think we should head… back… to… fuck."

I followed her gaze to see a familiar imposing figure standing a short distance away.

The Troll clapped his hands, slow, patronising sounds that echoed through the street like gunshots. "Congratulations, Ms Chase. I'm not sure how you found out about all of this, but you've gotten far further than I ever thought you would."

"You continue to underestimate me." I remarked, "You should stop."

The troll snorted, raised his oversized revolver. Chloe immediately blasted him, an actual assault rifle coming from nowhere and thocking heavy rounds into his chest. The troll fell back, and covering fire rained down on us from a dozen angles. His unseen support were good, accurate shots. If it wasn't for the armor, we'd all be dead in that first volley alone.

We split off, each diving for our own cover. The troll, freed of Chloe's fire, laughed. "You shouldn't delay the inevitable, Ms Chase. Like I told you, Termination is a mission priority."

"You tried it once and failed, asshole!" I yelled back. "What makes you think you'll do any better this time?"

The wall beside me smashed into powder and a hand clamped over my head. "Preparation." The troll's voice was muffled through the hand, but still rocketed through my skull. Or maybe that was the headache.

He blasted something and I heard a form collide with a wall. Then Max's drones flew overhead and snapped something at him, metal clamping down hard. The troll laughed and squeezed my skull harder. "Madmax, I'm guessing? My people will deal with you."

She yelled something I didn't catch and her drones began firing.

Then the pressure on my head was gone and the Troll was just there, right in front of me, and he grinned. He pulled back his fist and in a flash, punched me across the jaw. I think something broke. He swung again and again and there was nothing I could do. Everything began to hurt so much that I couldn't even tell what was pain anymore. Then he snorted and dropped me to the ground.

I lay there, helpless, twitching, as he walked away.

He reached down and picked up the box from where it had fallen. I could barely see it through the bleariness and swelling. It was tiny in his hand. He smiled down at it. And then he shot me.