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Part Four: Schlacht
By Saaye Kage no Ansatsusha
Dawn was tinting the sky by the time Akira put down the phone for the last time. She had about exhausted all the favors owned Schweigen for the years they've operated.
Now came the actual preparations.
She was decked out before long; her hair let down to rest loosely on her shoulders, her body clad in a colorful tight suit. Its description had cost her dearly. Calling in the favor the leader of Tokyo's biggest Mafia gang owned her had been a last resort.
Akira drove her sports car, the one reserved for showy business, to Takatori Reiji's headquarters. One of the tallest buildings in Japan and definitely the most heavily guarded, though the ground level had a deceptively harmless garden.
She pulled up outside the main entrance, exited the car, and walked up, her steps brisk and confident. The car engines were still humming merrily; they might need to get away in a hurry. Correction, they would need to get away in a hurry.
The security guards at the entrance made no move to stop her, but the three at the door did. They surrounded her the moment she stepped into the lobby. "Your identification?" one of them asked. There was a glint of the gun barrel hidden in his sleeve.
Akira kept her voice impassive, knowing that the goggle-like mask eluded a cold, mysterious look. "I'm Neu." No dramatics, no threat, just an emotionless reply. "I came from Masafumi."
The security guards cleared the way immediately.
Akira walked into Takatori Reiji's stronghold. She went down two corridors, turned a corner, and reached the only lift that could reach the fifty-third floor. Bless Akiko and her computer skills, her younger friend had hacked the layout of Takatori's headquarters the night after they confirmed that Schwarz was working for this man. She entered the lift and pressed for fifty-third floor. Ten…twenty…thirty…forty…fifty…
The lift stopped.
She took a deep breath and walked out, the moment the door slid open. Into the corridors where the webs of deceit were so thick they were almost tangible. Akira stopped at the first door and listened, hard. The rooms were probably soundproof, but she knew how men's minds work. The customarily take some room closest to the lift for convenience's sake. Now was the time to employ technology. She flicked on the sensor. A small red light appeared on her screen.
Not much could disrupt Schweigen's radio waves.
Keeping her pace steady and her bearing self-assured, Akira turned down the next corridor, making certain that her 'Neu' façade did not crack on the security cameras.
This was it.
She desensitized the lock easily with a portable electricity unit, and slipped in quickly. The mask came in useful here. She adjusted to the darkness almost immediately.
There were two figures sitting back to back on the ground. "Akira?" her friend asked in a whisper. "Is that you?"
She slid her dagger out of the sheath taped to her wrist. The two of them had been rubbing their bindings against each other for a long time, so it wasn't particularly challenging to cut them away. The ropes around their knees and ankles were harder. "You, what's your name?" she asked, pulling the ropes away from the unknown stranger's legs.
"Itsuki Kasumi," the girl replied, flexing her hands.
"I’m Kanamiya Akira, Akiko's teammate. Pleased to meet you." Akira began cutting away Akiko's ropes. "Now let's get out of here. Akiko, did they hurt you?"
"I can still move," Akiko's grimace as she stumbled up gave evidence to how long her limbs had gone with poor circulation. Akira took one of her hands and started rubbing. Remembering the other girl, she reached out to help Kasumi as well, but the quiet girl shied away from her touch. Kasumi was flexing her arms by herself, despite the pain it must cost her.
"You all right now? Good." Akira asked both them as she helped Akiko up. It didn't take much to guess that Kasumi didn't want her help "Let's go." There was a slight sound behind her. Sound of the door being opened. Akira didn't bother to look back. Many professionals depend on that moment of hesitation. It had cost her many grueling hours of practice, but the perfection of her reflexes had been worth it.
The intruder swore as he dodged her flying daggers. An American accent. Akira snatched the fleeting opportunity to turn around, her body setting into a defense position automatically. She slid her other dagger from its sheath inside her sleeve, ready to snatch the one inside her left boot if necessary.
The dark-haired man at the door glared at her, struggling to retain his composure. "Bitch," he muttered. There was a shallow cut on his shoulder. Each moment lost meant that their chance at getting away diminished that much. Akira attacked without any pause. Akiko would know what to do. The man avoided her next blow easily, but she surprised him with a sudden dive to the ground, sweeping him off his feet as she slid across the marble floor. Men. They might be physically stronger than women, but that made them more arrogant. How long would it take for them to finally believe that women who survived in the underworld tend to be thrice as tough and as shrewd as they were?
Hopefully never.
The man got to his feet, momentary fury marring his features before he gained control once more. He held a gun in his hand.
Akira wondered if the world would ever get any creativity as she let loose a second dagger. She only had two more, in addition to the one in her left hand-Neu's costume did not allow her to fit in all of the customary eight-but it was worth it. Guns tended to be permanent, and this man-Crawford, probably-held the gun as though he had handled firearms all his life.
The gun clattered as it dropped to the floor, but mixed with that was the sound of running steps. Reinforcement. Ordinary guards would hardly be situated on the floor occupied by Schwarz. They would definitely not respond to fighting someone Schwarz had trouble handling. She could deal with normal people. Another Schwarz member? Not bloody likely. "The car's outside, Akiko."
"Understood." Akiko sounded as calm as she did. This wasn't the time for hysterics. They both knew Akiko-and Kasumi-weren't in fighting condition right now. Akira could not spare effort to look out for them. "We'll wait for you outside."
"I'm not running away," Kasumi said flatly.
Akira closed in upon Crawford, catching a glimpse of another one approaching around the corner. "You'd only cause trouble right now, Itsuki-san," she said with equal flatness. "Now go."
The two girls ran down the corridor, Akiko pulling Kasumi along. Years of training her natural light-footedness had given Akiko incredible speed. Even newly released and dragging another along, Akira knew there was hardly anyone to stop them. They would be safe. She herself… She invented a few adjectives when she identified the newcomer-too dark-haired to be Schuldig, too sane to be Farfarello-as Naoe Nagi. The one person against whom fighting prowess had little impact.
Akira hoped Akiko had enough sense to stop waiting and make her escape without her, since Kasumi obviously didn't.
Don't wait for me, you idiots.
Schuldig smirked at the unfamiliar sight of a scowling Crawford bandaging his shoulder with his good arm. There were things the American disliked more than losing, but Schuldig could not recall any at the moment. "Need help?" Crawford gave him a "shut-up-before-I-decide-to-bite" look before resuming. Chuckling loud enough for him to overhear, the German cocked his head at Nagi. The Japanese kid was just coming to. Talk about moonstruck. A "get lost, Tot!" was all it took for him to utterly lose his concentration and get beaten up.
Still, the girl's mind was pretty fast. No, make that very fast. If Schuldig had not returned to lock Farfarello up, she could very well have gotten away.
"Eew," Nagi muttered, blinking as he rubbed his forehead, probably still feeling the effects of being knocked out with the handle of a perfectly thrown gun. He was lucky that the gun wasn't loaded. If the girl had shot instead of thrown-"What happened?"
"Welcome back, Nagi," Schuldig grinned. "Remember the girl who came here to rescue the two we caught? She knocked you out and was beating the shit out of Crawford when Farfarello and I returned. Count yourselves lucky that we returned in time to stop her from leaving."
"That'll do, Schuldig," Crawford growled darkly.
Nagi looked around. There were only three occupants in the room, one of the spacious parlor-like lounges. Crawford was sitting in an armchair, some medication on the stand beside him; he was lying on a divan, cushioned with the pillow taken from his own suite; Schuldig leaned against the glass panes of the full window, with his arms behind his head, grinning like the very devil incarnate. "Where's Farfarello?"
"I took the liberty of returning him to his straight jacket after we took out the girl, before you woke up," Schuldig replied, strolling over to stand behind Crawford's seat. "Still aching, Brad?"
"Don't push it," Crawford's voice began to hold real menace.
Schuldig only laughed at him. "Oh, poor Bradley-"
"And don't call me that."
"Whatever you say, Brad." Schuldig started to leave the room. He had irritated Crawford enough for today. Too much of his favorite pastime of annoying Brad, and the American will turn serious. Despite his appearance of the careless fun-seeker, Schuldig did know where to draw the line. "Anything I can do for you?"
"Keep an eye on the girl."
He bowed mockingly from the door. "yes, milord." He did want to take another look at the girl, anyway. She was an interesting combination of most things he found interesting: young, beautiful, smart, tough, stubborn… very, very interesting. Besides, Crawford was right; neither he nor Nagi was in any condition to deal with her, and Farfarello could never be depended upon not to accidentally kill his prisoner.
Schuldig went down the corridor to the chamber where he had left the girl-not the same one as last time, they had to replace the lock on that room before they could use it again-and opened the door, switching on the light. He closed the door behind him before looking at her. The girl was suspended by a rope tied to a ring attached to the ceiling, connected to the one around her arms and over her head. Her feet barely touched the ground.
Schuldig dragged two of the chairs in the room next to each other, sitting on one and stretching his legs out on the other. "Glad to see you're still alive."
Blue-gray eyes regarded him contemptuously. Delicate lips pressed into a thin line without replying.
"So we've to do this the hard way," Schuldig said with mock regret. He slowly submerged his consciousness into hers, making sure that she could feel every inch he covered. Somewhat to his surprise, the dominant emotion in her was not fear. It wasn't even worry, or disdain. She had expected to lose, and despite the various bruises she had received, pain was the furthest thing from her mind. The belief that her teammate would rescue her was quite touching, actually.
She glared at him. "Get out of my mind."
"Why should I?" Schuldig shrugged. "Now let's start again in the conventional way: what's your name? What organization do you belong to?" He turned coaxing when she ignored him. "Come on, do you really want me to take the information myself? Do you think I like doing that?"
"Why should I make it easier for you?"
He had been right, she was interesting. He reached for her mind again, then decided against it. "Let me see if I can guess. Hmm…few assassin groups have both male and female members, and you obviously belong to an all-female on. Your speed comes close to matching mine, and your friend's definitely did. Not many groups are known for speed. Your infiltration shows that you are a professional and an old-hand at this, yet you can't be older than twenty; that would place the time you've started acting to be no more or less than a few years back. And the other girl-I didn't bother to read her through, though I did sift for her name. Akiko is a common enough name, but not popular with assassins. Add all these together-Schweigen?" Sensing a start from her, he smirked again. "And that would make you…Kanamiya-san?" Kanamiya Akira lifted her chin. "I'm impressed, Schuldig."
He was surprised to find that she was telling the truth. She did respect the analytical ability he had just demonstrated. "Thank you. You aren't that bad yourself."
She regarded him suspiciously, then nodded briefly in acknowledgement. "Now let's get on with it, what was Shirokami-san doing at Hirofumi's manor? I thought Schweigen's neutral. Or did Weiß pay you? Somehow they didn't strike me as the sort."
"Being neutral does not mean being inactive. And they are less notorious than you."
Schuldig chuckled at the candid observation. "So what is Schweigen's neutral stand?"
"Can't you guess?"
Schuldig obligingly probed Akira's mind. Her concept of neutrality was at once simple and complicated. To be neutral in the underworld filled with deceit and hatred and deaths and debts, the freelancing Schweigen did not take any job that would place them on opposite ends with any underworld occupant they had contact with. Given their level of skill and success rate, almost everyone had friendly contact with them. To maintain this neutral relationship's balance, they quietly gathered information about everyone, ready to blackmail should it ever prove necessary. With these two courses of action, it was big wonder that Schweigen knew everything that there was to be known about the underworld. "Impressive, Kanamiya-san. Perhaps females do have brains after all."
"Considering that males are worse, you ought to feel proud that you noticed."
His evaluation of her was redefining itself as he listened. Who would have thought that a young girl of barely seventeen years had this kind of nerve, to defy her captors under such circumstances, suspended from the ceiling? He had to admit that he was very intrigued.
Schuldig pushed himself advancing upon her slowly. He was very intrigued. And she was bound, unable to fight back. Her expression changed as he approached. "Get lost!"
"No, I don't think so," he smirked, tipping her chin up gently with one finger. She was definitely a beauty, possibly one of the most striking ones in Tokyo. He wondered how she'd taste as he lowered his head to find out, holding her shoulders to prevent even that bit of struggling.
A sharp pain up his groin brought him back to himself, falling back onto the ground, his body curling at the agony that fired to the rest of his body. Striking was definitely the right word.
As the pain finally subsided and ebbed away, he got to his feet. "I can't believe I was holing you while you brought your knees up," he said wryly. All sexual desires had gone out of the window.
"I have luck on my side."
That did it. Crawford could guard her himself. Schuldig made for the door. He had had enough of Kanamiya Akira. He had to put in serious effort to have any impact on her, and no woman would ever be worth that kind of effort.
She had to get Akira out; that thought sustained Akiko as she drove through Tokyo's maze of streets, throwing their pursuers off trail. A good thing Akira had insisted that she upgrade her driving skills. Kasumi sat silently in the seat beside her. She was a tall girl, with red hair pulled back into a high ponytail, and emerald eyes. Akiko turned another corner and into the parking lot of the busiest mall in this part of Tokyo. "Itsuki-san, can you drive?"
"Yes."
"Then take over this. We have another car here." She changed place with Kasumi in the blink of an eye. "Follow me. I'll drive out the other car, and you fill in the vacancy with this one. Okay?"
"I understand." Kasumi took over the steering of the red sports car. Akiko vaulted out of the car and made for the row where they had kept their white Ferrari. She snatched the door open, started the engine, and drove out. Kasumi drove the sports car into the vacant lot immediately, jumped out, and locked the car.
The entire operation finished in less than a minute, and they were off again, in the white car. Perfect timing, perfect coordination. They could have practiced for ages.
"That's fast."
"Thanks." Kasumi was definitely an economist with words.
Eventually, they returned to the apartment where she and Akira lived. Akiko produced the keys and gestured Kasumi to precede her into their threshold. The first thing she did upon entering was to head for the kitchen. She had been without food for most of a day. Kasumi probably had been longer. Raiding the kitchen was not something Schweigen did on a regular basis, only when necessary. Kasumi came in just as she finished heating the precooked dishes. Akiko offered the taller girl a cup of newly made tea. "Help yourself."
They began eating. Studying Kasumi's quiet, almost mild-looking profile, Akiko could hardly imagine her as an underworld resident. Yet who else would go against Schwarz. "Itsuki-san, how long have you been in this line of business?"
"I'm not."
"Personal reasons?"
"Personal."
Akiko decided to stop. She had no business in Kasumi's private affairs, after all. Besides, she had to get Akira out of Schwarz's grasp, and that required all the help she could get. She should think of contacting Weiß as as possible.
After he had cooled down, Schuldig had to admit that Akira had more than luck on her side. It required quick reflexes and accurate timing, on the physical level; on the psychological level, she had to be shrewd and manipulative, and controlled enough to know when to strike. Most astonishing of all, she had managed to keep her surface thoughts away from this so that not even he, a mind reader, had noticed until it was too late.
He passed Crawford in the corridor after he left his suite. "Where are you going, Brad?"
"To stop Farfarello," the American replied, giving Schuldig a dirty look for calling him 'Brad' again. "He has gone far enough. I do want the girl to come out of his alive."
"What's Farfarello got to do with it?"
"I sent him in to see how she'd react."
"What?" Schuldig sent his mind to the room where Akira was. Farfarello was definitely there, and his thoughts, as usual, were incomprehensible. Akira's feelings ranged between defiance, pain, and a powerful sense of self-preservation.
Schuldig went down the corridor in great strides.