"I have my agent closing in as we speak." James, ever the steadfast boulder when it came to tension, reacted with the swift intensity of a machine; ironic in ways Ozpin would often chuckle over.
"I've sent you the available schematics; ensure they find the target first. Under no circumstances can Garanite face capture. The information he carries is too vital to lose, and too volatile to wind up in the claws of either invading faction."
Ozpin initially figured tonight would be a slow night. Like all the others, it included a few updates on the authorities and their investigations. His attempt to get Ruby Rose under Beacon's grip had proven... somewhat effective. On the plus side, they were to hold her until the evidence - which the authorities under council supervision claimed was concrete - could be properly cataloged and prepared for trial. Oh yes: the trial. A half-baked attempt usually put in play to keep people from searching for more information.
Ozpin knew the evidence was flimsy, and he had a few fun counter-arguments prepared for when they eventually called Miss Rose to court; something now up in the air, supposing Jay made it out of the currently ensuing chaos. The council was used to shoving blame, so he figured it was time to remind them that ineptitude carried more burdens than boons.
"And if we find Jay?" James questioned over-call, his voice firm, but surrounded by ongoing commotion while handing out directions. Granite's warning came more than a little later than preferable, and the shared mapping haphazardly provided only gave the barebones of aid to them in navigation. Still, they had settled on an extraction point.
"We won't. Garanite and I both agreed it would be too risky for your spy to flee with a body weighing him down. Jay is currently unconscious, but another trusted ally is moving him elsewhere. We'll pick him up once we finish the initial extraction; that should allot them enough time to make it to the second hideout."
For as thorough as his agent often proved himself to be, Garanite never was a man to easily breach privacy. Only amidst the distressing news of invasion upon his little hideout had Ozpin been informed of a correction that really would have benefited them earlier. They could have had Jay in their hands so much quicker, but Garanite hadn't known they were actively looking for him, and so Ozpin considered it more a spot of ill-timed misfortune.
"It's not Jay who possesses traces of magic; it's a bullet he carries on himself." Knowing Garanite for as long as he had, Ozpin didn't expect another message until some bold new headway was made; apparently, magic ammunition wasn't quite important enough to justify an update that would have provided the name of the individual.
It was of no issue. Once they got Garanite syphoned away into secretive custody, he would give them the full story in person.
"Ozpin, bad news." He hated hearing that.
"What is it?"
"The White Fang have detonated a bomb."
.
.
"Get him out of here!"
Fris nodded, taking up Jay's unconscious body from the bed and bolting out the back hallway. He hated yelling, but he couldn't afford to let Jay fall into the hands of their assailants. Especially not after Ozpin demanded him.
Whatever he is to you, I hope it's worth it.
Years of steady progress. Years of forming connections and silently restraining his ire. Years of work to free those now scattered in terror, being chased and manhandled by the White Fang of all people. All wasted, because - somehow - they had found him.
Garanite knew this would come eventually; not a day went by where he wasn't ready to be discovered and struck down by either the ignorant heroics of budding huntsmen, or the knowledgeable wrath of the sects he's been deceiving and robbing of slaves for years. Garanite went into his mission knowing it would spell the end of him, but not once had he considered his reapers would consist of not only the one terrorist core who would ordinarily praise his actions had they known what he'd truly been doing, but also equal dividends of the four great families of the underworld.
Everyone assaulting his base, destroying his work, and unintentionally terrorizing the liberated slaves did so with a clear conscience, believing themselves salvation to those they saw as abused and broken underneath his tyranny.
He'd almost shed a tear of joy at the smoldering care they owned while burning his hideout, had he not held suspicions of a darker hand behind this invasion. All he could do was assume one of those he'd been robbing of "product" had discovered his true nature, somehow found his base, and spun devious stories to all parties involved to get him out of the picture for good. Woe is he who finds himself faced with the wrath of the self-righteous.
"Crap!" Yang Xiao Long, a student huntress with an equally sizzling fury, clenched her fists, ready to dash outside and stand one-on-one with whatever poor buffoon dared look her way. She was stopped, thankfully, by Raspberry Starlight, whose reserved temperament - weighed down with regret - kept the fighter from making that mistake. Circling back and spitting the flames of a red-hot forge, Yang yanked her shoulder away. "We've got to help the kids!"
"They will be fine." It was his turn to step in, his exclamation getting an almost appalled, but no less hateful, expression from Yang. Cutting off any potential complaints, he laid everything out. "They're here with the express purpose to "rescue" the children I have "captured." They won't hurt them. Scare them? Maybe, but that's a given following the suddenness and chaos of their entrance."
"I-I, but..." Gritting her teeth and waving multiple conflicted masks of discourse, swapping rapidly between them in an attempt to fall into the appropriate character, Yang huffed a heavy growl before spitting out her chest and taking a sturdier stance. "Fine! What do we do?"
"The only thing we can: flee."
"You're kidding?!"
"I wish I was, but we can't have you discovered here with me. Listen, Fris is taking Jay to an emergency safehouse, and you'll be meeting him there."
"Wait." For the first time since this whole debacle began, the patented friend of Jay Williams spoke up; the one called Josh. "Does that mean you're not coming?"
"Afraid not."
"Why?" The question rang from both Josh and Yang; their mixed faces pausing on ones concerning and stiff.
"I have something I must attend to first before leaving." They clearly wanted to press him, but chose to withhold their curiosity in favor of tense nods.
The first signs of trouble popped up on SEMS when they had just gotten Jay back, along with the new tag-along; that being Josh. Quickly, he'd surveyed the situation through the camera setup linked with this particular scroll, and knew things were going south fast. Immediately, he'd informed Ozpin of the trouble, providing a map of the place as well as an update on the magic situation with Jay - on the off chance the worst came to be. In his typical no-nonsense fashion, Ozpin got back to him fast with news of a location, and an escort. With the probability of capture and complications coming from the route they had in mind for escape, it was decided that Jay be relocated to the spare hideout along a safer route and be collected afterwards.
Jay couldn't fight, but Garanite and his escort could, meaning they could better handle potential encounters.
Posing as one of the visiting Spiders, the escort would meet him at the designated area a few floors up, where they would convene and take the trash shoot down into the basement, which itself led out to the leftmost alleyway. A quaint little manhole sat just before the door outside; their escape route into the sewers. There was a chance someone could spot them, but they didn't have much of a choice.
Could they instead use the two or three Wrapping Dust deposits he still had hidden around instead? Yes, but all of them led to safehouses owned by surviving "traders" he now clearly didn't uphold friendly familiarity with anymore. Along with that, there was no guarantee that the stashes hadn't been blown to bits by now. The invasion focused mainly around the street-facing front of their base where a large garage once held many transport trucks. The space provided made for easy masking from outsiders peering at them, but it made for an easy siege point which the trio of groups had taken full advantage of.
The only safe bet left was through the filth most people kept from treading; disgusting, but somewhat doable. Hopefully, all eyes were focused on the main assault.
"How are we getting out?" Josh piped up, Yang and Raspberry nodding at both sides. "Are we chasing after Jay?"
"No." That wouldn't do; too slow and risky. "He has to take an alternative route due to... unique reasons. You three will be headed towards the washrooms along the western hallway. In the second women's room going in, you'll see three stalls. In the third one there's a blue tile near the floor behind the toilet that's a little darker than the others. Press and hold it for a few seconds and a little hatch will open up. Grab the crystal inside and smash it on the ground between you three; you'll end up in the foyer of the safehouse, at which point Fris and your friend should arrive about ten minutes later."
"Wrapping Dust?" muttered Josh, and he nodded.
"Yes. I have four stashes hidden around leading to various safehouses across the city; all of which, besides yours, are now anything but. Now move!"
.
.
"Take a left."
Clover obeyed without question, swinging past the corner and coming to a set of stairs going up. Normally, secure bases carried a metallic and downright tech-heavy appearance, but strangely it felt as though he was wandering through a stereotypical old person's home. Direct communication with the general of this sort was dangerous, but they had little choice; what with the prospect of retrieving Jay so close. But that wasn't his mission this time; rather, he'd been sent to liberate another individual of interest.
Soft carpets interwoven with tributes to the wilderness beat a path neatly through every hall and room, which themselves glowed a bright beige. Mechanical doors - the only sign of high-tech - wore scribbles across their surface; children's artwork, without question.
Heck, he'd run past a couple of candles sitting innocently atop their sticks, held aloft on wooden shelving lining every curve and corner.
But the smell of smoke, unfortunately, came not from the unlit sticks of wax. Instead, a spreading fire followed the shaky upheaval. Everything surrounding him remained intact, but the dull pounding and echoing boom knocked him to the floor. Somebody had set off a bomb, and in a hast Clover sent word, his text quickly passed on through to the general, who came back with masked intensity.
"Keep moving up," came orders through his earpiece.
Fragmented cries chanted to the beat of the dusty plumes, the crackling embers rounding on the flames and clumping together as they sang. Within the symphony of frantic fear, solid, but no less hasty footfalls interrupted the carefully choreographed mayhem. Clover paused momentarily, stilled to test if his eardrums hadn't yet been clogged with ash. Thump thump, thump thump, crack squeak and bump. Though overshadowed by the orchestra whose blinding heat would melt his eyes if kept open too long, Clover had once more picked out the general demanding he move forwards.
And so he had, right into the presence of an unfittingly well-maintained man.
"Ozpin's?" the newcomer commanded, and Clover tensed up. Could this be the one he'd been sent to collect? Either way, Clover risked a nod; none but the target would bring up mention of Beacon's headmaster.
"Seems this is our guy. Clarify."
"Garanite?"
"Correct."
"Follow me."
Under General Ironwood's guidance, the pair managed to vanish mainly without a hitch, but not totally unseen. Though some may argue luck was the only reason they weren't cornered while stepping into the alleyway, the true culprit who allowed them to flee into the sewers did so knowing she couldn't risk carrying two prisoners; one of which she had eyes on at this very moment.
.
.
"The White Fang, the Spiders, and the Xiong..." Cinder strolled over, planting herself beside Adam Taurus, who too oversaw the ensuing chaos below from a spire some blocks away. "Amusing how a common cause can draw even the most pitted of folds together, don't you agree?"
"Sometimes, it takes the hottest of wildfires to waft the smoke of distress into the senses of those too preoccupied to look." Adam scoffed after, biting his lip. Cinder, meanwhile, reveled in their blazing stage show; the little girl inside secretly yearning to roast marshmallows over the fretful dying screams of those below.
Sadly, to her knowledge nobody had yet passed.
Garanite... Poor poor Garanite. Honestly, he and his little goons brought this onto themselves - for the most part. Emerald had, yet again, proven herself the perfect set of eyes, and thanks to Mercury's always available stash of uncommon necessities, the pair sparked the cotton leading to this glorious bonfire.
It was the fool's own fault for stealing such a useful tool; so much potential, wasted on trading street urchins.
One might think her merciful towards those with a hard lot in life, given she'd faced the same, but those who do would be sorely mistaken. Cinder recalled her days as an orphan well, struggling on the streets and being kicked aside by everyone - even other beggars and thieves. Like its nobility, the streets of the floating kingdom were rife with competition; every man, woman, and child for themselves.
Apparently, this wasn't the case with Vale, but screw Vale; they'll be nothing but soot soon enough.
A small rumble coursed throughout the pouch strapped to her leg underneath her dress, and quite carelessly she took a gander. Adam couldn't see, and he never made any moves to; like herself, he knew his place, and what both was and wasn't his business. First up in their report: Emerald.
"I've spotted two guys dipping into the sewers: Garanite, and what looks like a Spider. Should I extract them?"
"Is the boy with them?"
"No."
"Leave them be."
If Garanite wished to flee, then so be it. The Spiders never worked wholly alone; Lil'Miss often required her lower goons to share direct updates on their progress, and sent the closest available idiot to help with any given job. The only exception to this rule followed assassinations; even scouting and targeted infiltrations required the buddy system in some form or fashion. Therefore, whoever left with Garanite did so without permission.
This was fine; babysitting Lil'Miss's goobers wasn't part of her responsibilities, and the plan wouldn't suffer just because one worthless nobody escaped.
Another shake, this time from Mercury.
"I see the kid. He's in the arms of the lanky one; Fris I think. Should I bag 'em now?"
Lovely~ Cinder, despite believing in her minions, wasn't a fan of how... abnormally difficult events surrounding their target had been to navigate, and she'd not allow for more trouble.
"Get ahead and cut off their path. Redirect them in circles through any means necessary, and send word to Emerald. Once you're both together, kill the dog and grab the boy."
"Got it."
Permitting a satisfied smirk, Cinder settled back into enjoying the stretch of personal bonding time with Adam, who prattled out once she'd "pocketed" her scroll.
"Based on that moan of yours, I'm assuming you've received more good news."
"We, my dear friend~"
"I am not your friend." He may have said so, but unlike their first encounter which forged their partnership in blood and fire, Adam had lost that rustic edge when addressing her. Companionship, acquaintances, he could call their union what he liked, but what mattered was they had gotten a hold of one pesky boy with nowhere to go, and no one to turn to.
"Adam." Dainty fingers traced her heart. "I'm hurt." His dismissive snort had her all giggly; she was having too much fun with this. "I go through all this trouble finding them, pressing the gift of retribution into your hands, and you say we are not friends?"
"And I suppose your reason for doing so was because you felt so terrible knowing faunus children were suffering?" Adam seared upon his lips his own twisted grin, lasting a second and no more before falling into calm. "I know you better than that. You've found something amidst all of this; I may not know what it is, but your eagerness in gathering everyone for this raid and ensuring a temporary ceasefire says it all."
"Oh Adam Adam Adam~" From just a kiss away, standing front on and before a backdrop of fire which bathed her front in shadows, save her glistening amber iris, Cinder smiled. "I do not speak, my love; I sing~"
Drawing ever closer, to the point she could feel his breath on hers, she burrowed into his eyes and once again uprooted the terror he so loved to bunker from the sun's light.
"And when I sing, the whole world listens~"
.
.
Panting and heaving, cursing as he came to another dead end blocked off by tipped dumpsters and abandoned stolen cars, Fris once more rounded about.
Of all the times!
Nothing seemed to be going right. A part of him considered calling up Blanco, but chances were the boss already sent word during his own escape. Fuck, he was wasting time with this continuous string of redirection. Why now did Vale's streets decide to clog themselves with excess sewage? It didn't matter, and after the fifth change of route, Fris stumbled upon something entirely unexpected.
"What are you doing here?!" He nearly shouted, catching the attention of Blanco, who stood somewhat dazed at the dead end ahead: a solid brick wall. Yet another roadblock on the way to the safehouse, but at least it wasn't entirely a waste.
"Fris, is that you?" Blanco returned, snapping from his slump and rushing over. Oddly, his face carried more uncertainty than usual, penetrating his own senses and instigating a chill up his spine. Blanco's eyes dropped, and he asked, "Is that the kid?"
"Who else would it be?" Roughly shoving Jay into his partner's hands, Fris breathed a short sigh of relief. "Well, at least I'm not lugging him around on my own. Now come on," Fris circled around, ready to march. "Let's go..."
Another brick wall.
"No..." He felt like screaming out his frustrations more than ever, but whipping his gaze back to see the same wall behind Blanco had him outright fuming. "What type of double-dealing switch-up is this?!"
"Crap... she's here," Blanco muttered, drawing every fiber of Fris's focus.
"Who?"
Blanco's eyes widened, and following them, Fris grit his teeth. There stood a woman wrapped in little more than a muddy cloak, which shielded her body from the soft downpour of rain only starting up. Face obscured, and both hands and feet riddled with newly closed scars, he saw bits of blood dripping from underneath fall into the puddles of sloshed up mud and grime.
"Drop your aura."
"Excuse me?!" Fris felt like slapping his partner, but the solidity of Blanco's expression had him withhold.
"Trust me." Blanco stepped back, a glare directed right at the woman, who slowly, step by step, waded through the mess and began closing the distance. "I just spent the past ten minutes running from her. Her semblance lets her paralyze anyone using aura; no aura, no paralysis. You can clock her quickly once she grabs you."
"And you didn't do this, because?" A vile, repulsive bubble rounded the lining of his stomach, even through Blanco's disappointing explanation.
"I didn't piece it together until I got away; too busy running for the hills, you know?"
That didn't fit Blanco at all; the man was headstrong to a fault. Then again, they'd never crossed an enemy who could turn their aura against them. Sighing internally, Fris once more took note of how boxed in they had become. How solid walls had suddenly sprung up on all sides didn't matter, because Fris was pretty sure their mystery woman was behind it.
Or, in other words: if they took her down, the path would open up again.
"I'm getting a proper explanation from you when this is done," Fris tossed out, staring down the woman and beginning his own approach.
Every step brought thunder, and lightning flashed the soaked bindings obfuscating their enemy. Seconds ceased to tick, and the blood rushing through his ears began protesting his decision. Hairs standing up and muscles trying their best to coat themselves in cement; every inch of him screaming he run away. But Fris was no coward, and even if his foe radiated doom he would still challenge them.
Garanite trusted him with the boy, and he wasn't about to let his friend down, regardless of their differing views of choice decisions.
Now a mere step away, the woman stopped, and he heard a rounding drum beat. Slowly, she reached for him, and he silently let his aura drop. Something about her changed: her lips twitched, a momentary break of her mannequin expression, before flesh met with flesh. Her hand now clasped in his own, he readied to throw, only for a loud bang to ring out.
His vision? Forever stolen.
Author's note
…
This was an annoying one, I'll be honest. Easy to draft, but irritating to get a decent flow. On the bright side, it's a more action focused chapter, but it still feels iffy.
Well, it seems as though Cinder chose what to do with the info Emerald reported; and in record time too. Sure, with her more direct involvement with Lil'Miss, this seemed a simple order. On the other hand, we never got to see what Junior thought of this, or even much about his lot. That'll follow next time.
This chapter had a few spots that might have gone through more than one rewrite, so if the odd sentence or two comes off a little weird or repetitive: that's why. I'm more than a little tired right now, so I won't be rewriting portions of this later unless someone points out a glaringly obvious issue - considering what's slipped through before, I don't expect it; I'll probably have to find it myself another day.
Either way, that's this one done. On a side note, Beyond Destiny is wrapping up after one more chapter, meaning Untouchable here will soon take the Friday time slot; AKA, this story will update every Friday following if I can help it.
Until next time.