Linkage:
Night ~ 1
~~~~~~~
"Hey," Yohji said again, as he swung astride his motorcycle. "What did Aya find, anyway?"
There was a long silence before Omi finally answered. "Fairly standard warehouse. Pretty much the usual. I could send you his surveillance pics -- oh. Never mind. You don't have a Pocket PC."
"No," Yohji replied shortly. He'd teased Aya mercilessly -- well as much as one could tease the generally stoic redhead -- when he'd gotten his handheld PC. Unnecessary tech, he'd said. Just an extra way for Persia to keep tabs on him. Now he wished he had one, but wasn't that the way of it? "I couldn't read it while riding anyway," he muttered, as much to himself as to Omi.
"Uh, right. Well, I can give you the details."
"That would be a start," Yohji said, his tone dark with sarcasm. Kick-starting his bike, he twisted the throttle and the bike leapt away from the curb. Cold wind whipped his hair across his face as the bike growled softly. A thought occurred to him as he listened to Omi's directions and Aya's observations. "Omi," he said, interrupting an overly-detailed description of the main doors. "Bring Aya's sword."
~*~*~
Schuldich pushed the car as fast as the street would let him, sliding smoothly through traffic and out into the deserted warehouse district. He parked the car outside the double doors, in plain view, and hauled Aya inside. Nagi disappeared into the office, but his hold on Aya didn't relax until Schuldich had tied him quite securely to a hard wooden chair that seemed to have been left there for exactly that purpose. Even then, Nagi's hold on his vocal cords remained secure, forcing Aya to find another way to communicate.
Why are you doing this? Aya demanded, forming the thought carefully and aiming it at Schuldich.
"Oi! Tell your pet not to think so loud!" Nagi exclaimed.
Schuldich frowned thoughtfully at Aya. "Let him talk, then."
"Whatever."
"Play fair now, flower-boy, or I'll have to shut you up again," Schuldich said.
"Why?" Aya growled.
Schuldich shrugged and turned away, walking over to a stack of rectangular cans beside the door. Picking one up, he tilted it from side to side, making its contents slosh. "Ah, we're back to the movie scenario again, aren't we? Complete with captured hero." Stalking back over to Aya, he set the can at his feet. "Of course, the qualification was 'comprised' not captured, wasn't it? We could do more about that, hmm?" Leaning over, he laid his hands on Aya's waist, toying with the button on his jeans.
"Don't," Aya said, quietly, and with more desperation than he wanted to show.
"No?" Schuldich replied, drawing back. "Ah well, I don't feel like playing the villain any more anyway. Besides, we'll have enough entertainment without that." Picking up the can, he ambled over to a point some ten or twelve feet to Aya's left, and began pouring liquid along the floor."
The sudden smell of gasoline tickled Aya's nose. "Gas?" he asked redundantly.
"Entertainment," Schuldich replied, not bothering to turn to face Aya again. At an arbitrary point he turned, shook out the last drops from the can and tossed it aside. Stalking back for another, he said conversationally, "So, how long is it gonna take your team to get here?"
"What makes you think they'll come?" Aya asked. He twisted one wrist slightly, almost wincing at the twisting scrape of rough fibres against his skin. The gas vapours were already making his head ache.
"What makes you think they won't?" Schuldich countered. Finishing the gas trail in front of Aya, he turned to his right and started down towards the side door. "You are a team, aren't you?"
Aya frowned. "They don't know --" he began, but the memory of a familiar figure fleeing the nightclub dried the words on his tongue. "Yohji."
Schuldich laughed, tossing aside another can. "Of course."
Aya shook his head, confusing warring with anger. "But why? Wouldn't it be easier to pick us off one by one?"
"But where's the fun in that?" Turning another corner, he walked behind Aya, between the chair and the office door.
"Are you done?" Nagi called. "They're practically here."
"Saa... close enough," Schuldich replied.
A stack of cans remained by the door, close enough to be a potential firebomb once the gas trail was lit. Visions of fireballs danced briefly before Aya's mind's eye.
Tossing the can aside, Schuldich to stand between Aya and the side door and dug a pack of smokes and a book of matches out of his jacket pocket. Striking a match, he lit a cigarette, stuck it in his mouth, and held the match up. It burned down almost to his fingertips before he put it out with a flick of his wrist.
"Showtime," Schuldich said. A cocky grin danced across his lips as he ruffled Aya's hair.
~*~*~
Lowering his binoculars, Ken glanced sideways at Yohji. "Why'd he leave his car there?" he whispered.
Yohji shrugged irritably. "Didn't really have time to ask him what he was planning," he growled. Why he didn't tell Ken and Omi the truth, he wasn't sure, but the word "captured" wouldn't leave his lips. Maybe it was his own doubt about the situation. Maybe it was his stubborn inability to believe what his eyes had shown him. Either way, he stuck with his original lie about Aya keeping Schwartz busy.
"I don't get it," Omi muttered, inching back from the edge of the roof. "It's not like Aya to be so... so..."
"Blatant?" Ken offered, frowning. Raising the binoculars again, he peered at the warehouse. "There are lights on inside, but I can't see anything through that grime."
"Why didn't Aya --" Omi began, for at least the third time.
"I don't know!" Yohji snapped. "I'm going in." He wormed his way backwards, toward the fire-escape.
"Don't you mean 'we'?" Ken asked sharply.
"No, I don't. We don't know what's going on in there, and until we do, there's no point in all three of us charging in." Reaching the fire-escape, he rose to a low crouch and started digging through their bag of equipment.
"Ok," Ken conceded reluctantly. "But I don't like it. You and Aya have been pretty weird on this one."
"Just watch my back," Yohji said absently. "Omi, you brought your laptop, right? Keep it on and see if you can pick up... anything from Aya."
"Right."
Yohji's hands closed around the long, slender shape of Aya's sword and he shivered. Even through the leather sheath he could feel the cold metal, sucking the heat from his hands. Not for the first time, he wondered how Aya stood it.
"Yohji," Ken said softly, practically in his ear. Yohji twitched, almost dropping the sword back into the bag. "Be careful." He hesitated a moment, and then added, "Even with Aya's car there, it reeks of a trap."
In the diffuse orange-yellow light of distant streetlamps, Ken's face seemed dim and pale. *Pale as death,* Yohji couldn't help thinking. He swallowed nervously. "Saa... of course. I'm going to check the side door, and try to find a low window."
"Alright. But call us if --"
"Siberian."
Ken blinked, set his lips in a firm line, and nodded. Tucking the sword behind his belt, Yohji stepped down onto the fire escape and hurried to the ground. The sword was awkward, threatening to tangle in his legs if he didn't pay attention to it. It made crossing the open space between buildings with any kind of stealth and speed difficult, but he managed it without getting shot or otherwise injured. Flattening himself against the corrugated steel wall, he inched his way toward the side door.
Dirty yellow light splashed the concrete, falling from a small, barred window in the steel door. Stopping beside the door, Yohji took a deep breath. A faint, almost familiar smell teased his nostrils. Keeping the sword firmly in check with one hand, he crouched below the level of the window, and edged over beneath it. Slowly, he rose until he could just see over the edge of the window.
The window was filthy with streaked dirt, and the light was almost painfully bright after the semi-darkness of the rooftop, but he could see well enough to pick out a few details. Two figures, one standing, the other sitting. Two redheads.
"Aya," he breathed. Laying his free hand on the door handle, he twisted it infinitely slowly. It turned, blessedly quiet.
"Balinese," a quiet voice said in his ear. He jumped, managed to keep the sword from clattering against the door, and twisted away from the door.
"What?" he snapped, as quietly as he could.
"You said 'Aya'... do you see him?"
Yohji blew out a sigh through his teeth. He could lie again, but would good would it do at this point? If Schuldich was here, there was a 50/50 chance that Nagi was as well, and he couldn't deal with both of them at the same time. "Yes," he muttered. "And Schuldich."
Static crackled, making him cringe. "What about Nagi?"
"Don't know."
A pause, silence pregnant with possibilities. "I'm coming in after you. Don't do anything stupid."
Yohji sneered into the darkness, pulled his sunglasses out of his pocket and pushed them on. With exaggerated motions, he unclipped the mic from his jacket and removed the earpiece. Dropping the wire assembly onto the ground, he stared at it for a moment before firming his grip on Aya's sword and turning back to the door.
"Time for some answers," he said. Laying his hand on the door handle again, he twisted it sharply and yanked the door open.
~*~*~
Schuldich watched the side door through narrowed eyes. His cigarette hung limply between his lips, swaying hypnotically. Forcing his attention away from it, Aya turned his head just far enough so that he could see both the door and Schuldich. A heartbeat later, the door swung open on silent hinges. Yohji stalked into the room, his face grim with determination, his hand wrapped tightly around something that seemed, unbelievably, to be Aya's sword.
And on Aya's other side, Schuldich's hand rose to his lips, retrieving the cigarette. With a casual gesture and a twisted smile, he tossed it towards the glistening trail on the floor. Aya strained against the ropes, knowing it was futile, and tried to scream a warning. But the invisible force clamped down on him again, leaving him silent and gaping as the cigarette hit the gasoline and flames leapt up with a hissing roar.
Yohji flinched, hesitating as the flames rushed toward him. Aya could see that he was practically standing on the trail, but he couldn't tell if Yohji had realized the path of danger. Time stuttered into uneven freeze-frames while the fire raced hungrily around them.
Move, idiot! Aya screamed silently. He couldn't help it; even knowing that Yohji wouldn't hear him, he had to try to warn him somehow.
No cheating, flower-boy, Schuldich growled. His fingers tightened in Aya's brain, squeezing out coherent thought and leaving him with a blinding headache.
With a quick, nervous toss of his head, Yohji leapt forward, over the growing line of flame, and into the square of safety around them.
Schuldich tsked, shaking his head. "You were supposed to use the other door, flower-boy. Don't be difficult."
A shot rang out, deafeningly loud. Aya's ears rang and his vision swam, blurred by a haze of fire and Schuldich's thought-touch. But he still saw the look of surprise and pain that sprang on Yohji's face as crimson splashed and spread from his right shoulder. Clutching the wound, Yohji staggered forward, tripped over Aya's sword and went down in a tangle of limbs.
"Dammit, Schwartz!" Yohji growled. He coughed, grimaced, and pressed his hand harder against the wound as he sagged onto the ground.
A flicker of movement beyond the flames registered in the corner of Aya's vision, but he didn't turn his head. His entire concentration was focused on Yohji, willing him the strength to get up and attack Schuldich.
"One down," Schuldich said. "You stay put. Now where's the rest of them, hmm?" He kept his gun aimed in Yohji's general direction as he looked out over the flames and checked both doors.
"Not coming," Yohji muttered. His eyes slid closed, his face gone pale.
"How stunningly stupid and disappointing!" Schuldich exclaimed, with a theatrical sigh. "After all the work I put into this..."
"I've got one," Nagi called. "I can keep him busy... unless you want him here for target practice."
Something bumped against Aya's fingers, and cold steel brushed his skin. He tried not to shiver, focusing on the cloud of confusion in his brain. The flames were dying down, having burnt off most of their fuel. In a few seconds more they'd be out, their distraction spent. The rope tightened for a moment, making Aya grimace, and then slipped free.
"No," Schuldich replied. "You play with him. I've got the ones I wanted." Turning his attention to Aya, his smile slid away. Eyes narrowed, he studied Aya -- and the space behind him -- thoughtfully. "Well, well, well. Looks like we have a late addition," he drawled. He swung his gun around in a slow arc, training it on Aya's chair.
There was a rush of air behind Aya, and a whistle as something metallic flew towards Schuldich. He twisted sideways, his finger tightening on the trigger. Aya threw himself and the chair to the right, anticipating the bite of a bullet that never came. There was a sharp cracking noise as something collided with Schuldich's gun hard enough to snap his wrist and knock the gun from his hand.
"Move, dammit, Aya!" Ken hissed, placing himself in the line of fire.
"Feet!" Aya snapped, surprising both of them. Both Nagi and Schuldich's invisible hold on him were gone, faded like a bad dream.
Ken dropped a knife into his hand, keeping his attention focused on Schuldich. Cutting the ropes that bound his ankles to the chair legs was difficult, but Aya managed it. Ken moved to claim Schuldich's gun. With a well-placed kick, he sent it spinning toward Aya and turned to face Schuldich. The gun thumped against the toe of Aya's boot as he freed his left foot. Pushing himself to his feet, he toed the gun out of the way and yelled, "Don't kill him!"
Ken whipped his head around, disbelief written large on his face. "What?!"
Schuldich chuckled darkly. Having second thoughts, Abyssinian?
Don't tempt me! Aya snapped back.
"But he shot Yohji!" Ken exclaimed. His knuckles flexed, bugnuks gleaming.
"I know! But --" But there were memories of a night in the rain, a warmth and an unexpected empathy.
Don't be an idiot, flower-boy.
Aya's gaze met Schuldich's and time slowed to a crawl around them.
Time to make a choice... Ran, Schuldich said. A choice every boy has to make, no matter which side he's on. Are you gonna continue on as a loose canon? A maverick? Or are you going to become a real team player? These boys -- he gestured at Ken and Yohji, -- these men came here trusting you to do your part, willing to die, if necessary. Now you have to choose: what's more important? Your independence? Your personal vendetta? Your need for warmth? Or the team? The mission? He paused, hands spread in a questioning gesture. Whose side are you on?
"Aya..." Yohji's voice, faint and strained, still penetrated the silent conversation.
Time snapped back to speed with a dizzying rush. Turning in place, Aya stretched out his hand instinctively. The hilt of his sword thumped solidly onto his palm and he closed his fingers around it, feeling the metal humming at his touch. Swinging his arm up and over in a slashing strike, he wrapped his other hand around the hilt as he faced Schuldich again.
"I fight for Weiss," Aya declared, deadly solemn and intent.
"Good choice," Schuldich answered. Spinning on his bootheel, he ran for the door. But I'm not going to make it easy for you. The matchbook was in his hand and as he reached the door, he struck the pack against the wall, setting most of the matches ablaze. He held the blazing matchbook for a moment as his eyes held Aya's, and then he dropped it directly onto the stack of gas cans.
Aya was already moving, shoving Ken towards the double doors at the other end of the building. It was Yohji he was worried about, Yohji who was closest to the imminent fireball. Dropping his sword, he grabbed Yohji's left arm and hauled him to his feet. They'd made it halfway across the room when the cans exploded outward. A wave of heat and flame threw them both to the ground. Bits of metal and ash rained down on them, singeing their clothes and hair.
"Ow," Yohji muttered, and it was such a ridiculous understatement that hysterical laughter bubbled in Aya's throat.
"C'mon, move it, playboy," he said hoarsely. Crawling on hands and knees, they made it to the doors just as Ken finally pried one open. The car was still there, and intact. The sight of it made Aya almost weak with relief.
"Keys?" Ken asked.
"Ignition," Aya replied, helping Yohji into the front passenger seat as Ken slid behind the wheel. Yohji slumped in the seat, his face grey with exhaustion and blood loss. "Hospital," Aya snapped. "Go!" He shut the door firmly and stepped back.
Ken nodded, throwing the car into reverse and accelerating hard. He spun the car in a tight arc, switched gears, and headed off into the night. Aya watched them go with a kind of blank numbness gripping him. Emotion seemed a luxury he wasn't going to allow himself. Not yet. His sword was still back in the warehouse, somewhere beneath the waves of fire, but even that was unimportant.
If Yohji dies...
There was no one who wouldn't blame Aya for it, not even himself. If Yohji died because of his choice, his stupid mistakes, he'd never forgive himself. And he'd never forgive Schuldich either. Schwarz would learn the meaning of vendetta, and there'd be no waffling about missions and orders and teammates.
The vehemence of his own thoughts surprised him. The realization that he might care about something... some*one* as much as his sister.... He'd thought himself incapable of caring for so long. He didn't want to think about why or how that had changed. Not yet. There were still loose ends to tie up, and time to kill until he heard from Ken. He started walking, forcing sore and aching muscles to carry him. Something else, another small incongruity, nagged at him as he walked. As he limped slowly toward the building from which he'd done his surveillance, the thought finally jelled.
Omi...
As if on cue, a tousled blond haired head appeared at the top of the fire escape. "Oi! Aya!"
Aya stopped, leaned carefully against the brick wall, and waited. Omi clanged down the fire escape, laptop tucked under one arm.
"Omi," Aya said, unable to put any emotion into it. "What the hell were you doing?"
"Completing the mission," Omi said. He didn't even sound defensive, Aya realized.
"Explain." He didn't have the strength or patience for more words.
Omi tapped the laptop he had tucked under one arm. "Nagi took your Pocket PC. He didn't agree with Schuldich. Didn't want to go along with his plan. So he waited for me to try and hack in and then contacted me on your PC. I've been waiting for a download to finish."
Closing his eyes, Aya leaned his head back against the wall. He hurt all over. Even his brain hurt, and he wasn't about to begin picking at the painful tangle of emotion he felt.
"The warehouse?" Omi prompted.
"A front," Aya said. "A ploy. Burning at the moment."
"I heard a gunshot... and an explosion. And your car took off...."
"Sch-chu..." He stuttered over the name. "Schuldich shot Yohji. Ken's taking him to the hospital." With as great an effort as it would take to move mountains, Aya pried his eyelids open and tipped his head forward again. "Gas cans caught fire."
Omi's eyes were round as saucers. "We'd better go, then."
Placing his palms flat against the wall, Aya pushed himself carefully away from it. He wavered unsteadily and Omi frowned at him.
"I'll drive," the younger boy said.
Aya simply nodded.
All fiction © 2002-2005 Tavam Shaytar