[FIC] Guess Who's Coming to Dinner? (pt 14)

[dd]

Fort Tryton Park was a beautiful setting, a wooded area offering vistas of the Hudson River and the picturesque Palisades. The ample rolling hill were normally a wonderful place for visitors to take a walk, ride a bicycle, or simply sit and enjoy the scenery.

Not today.

The grounds sit upon the site of old Fort Washington, a site that played a strategic role in the War of Independence. Normally, Sousuke would have dwelled on that fact, conjuring up images of famous battles long past. Kaname and Oichi certainly would have enjoyed the beautiful terraced flower gardens or the serene setting of the park and The Cloisters.

Not today.

Pushed further to the periphery than usual, the food vendors were still out in force, trying to get the attention of the countless media people and police officers located at that distance from the museum. Mr. Smith would usually have gotten into spirited arguments with the food sellers and bought enough victuals to feed any two families.

Not today.

Helicopters buzzed overhead as Mr. Smith wove his car in and out of the snarled traffic. Too many useless onlookers were there, just wanting to satisfy their curiosity or be at the scene of something big. There were plenty of angry people too, men and women who still carried deep scars from the fall of the Twin Towers.

“Damn, these idiots. Hold on. Don’t usually like to do this.” Mr. Smith spun the car about, kicking up bits of sod and leaves, forcing onlookers and the like to jump out of his way. He drove the car across beautiful lawns and through a hedge or two, before pulling back onto a main path. Soon, he was driving past improvised police barricades, despite the frantic arm motions of numerous officers and civic workers.

Sousuke shut off his phone. He had finished speaking with Lt. Cmdr, Kalinin.

“Mr. Smith, when we are approached, offer the name of special agent Rockefeller.” Sousuke doubted that was the man’s true name. No doubt, the call sign was taken from John D. Rockefeller, the man who had donated the land The Cloisters is built upon. “He will be expecting us. He will also hook me up with a second Mithril operative who happened to be in the general area.”

“Who, Sousuke?” Kaname had gotten herself under control. She was her usual determined and energetic self again. “There will be two of you?” That made her feel much better. Sousuke’s success was far from a sure thing.

She didn’t want to loose him.

“Not mentioned.” Sousuke shook off growing anger, knowing that Kaname had a right to be interested. “The agent should have a map I need. Apparently, there has been some new work done on the building. The terrorists may not know about a new maintenance access way, as it is not on the blueprints at City Hall or on the floor plan available on the Net.” Sousuke hoped for a little good fortune.

“We need to find him, Mr. Smith. The clock is still ticking.” Sousuke checked his watch. He took a moment to set the alarm, giving himself enough time to escape a touchy situation and make his way back out to a helicopter.

Sure enough, a number of squad cars and a large armored police van cut-off their approach. Heavily armed police win riot gear set up positions around them. A man on a megaphone told them to all exit the vehicle with their hands in the air. They complied. The name of the agent worked wonders. They were all escorted to a temporary base of operations.

Shunya was already there.

“Daddy!” Kaname ran to her father and leaped into his arms. “Daddy, Sousuke is going to save Ayame.”

Sousuke cringed. She shouldn’t be saying things like that where everyone could hear her. He did not want to be noticed. Any seasoned professionals in earshot would take a grim view of a comrade in arms who started making waves.

His anger began building again.

Shunya took offense at the statement as well.

“What do you mean, Kaname?” He frowned when he saw Sousuke drop his bag, open it, and start putting on a combat harness. “There are experienced people at work here. They assure me that they have everything under control. If we are patient, they will get everyone out safe. The last thing we need is for some trigger happy young yahoo to run in and get people killed!”

Kaname’s father glared at Sousuke openly, not caring what his daughter might think. It was time for wiser more experienced heads to take over.

“But Daddy, you don’t understand. This is not a simple terrorist act….”

As Lt. Cmdr. Kalinin explained it to him, Sousuke had explained it to Kaname. The men and women involved in the kidnapping must be content to be martyrs. They would drag things out as long as they needed, dying in whatever calamity would be caused by their compatriots in the Arm Slaves.

They had no compunction against dying. They had no reservations against killing. Delay and distraction were the name of the game.

“KANAME!!!” Sousuke made certain that she didn’t say any more. The last thing anyone needed was large scale panic.

“Sousuke, I….”

“ENOUGH, KANAME!!!” He didn’t want to sound angry, but he had to be sure she didn‘t say too much. His negative emotions put another foot in the door.

Shunya’s eyes narrowed. His shoulders hunched. He set his jaw.

“Who do you think you are to speak to my daughter that way?” Kaname’s father looked ready to spit. “It looks as if I was right about you after all. I should have listened to my initial instincts!”

“Shunya….” Oichi walked up, able to go only so far due to security precautions.

“You stay out of this now, Oichi. This is something that needs to be done. Ayame is in enough danger as it is. I can’t do anything about that. But, I will NOT have Kaname mistreated.”

“Daddy, Sousuke didn’t….” Kaname looked at Sousuke and her father.

“Not another word, young lady. Do not make things worse than it already is!” Shunya spoke to an officer, hoping to have Sousuke removed from the premises.

Sousuke’s anger continued to build up, faster than it should have. It was the medications. The effect was no where near as strong as before, but he was still tapped into his primal core.

“I have reason to be here that goes beyond mere blood ties.” His words were crisp and assured. He was not about to be interfered with. There was no time.

“YOU are in MY way. I will need to speak with agent Rockefeller immediately.” That last sent a man running towards another tent. Sousuke made it a point to slam a clip into his FN F2000.

“Why you….” Shunya never had a chance to get his words out.

“You do not know what is going on. I do. You do not have a means to make a difference. I will. Do not speak as if you are someone with power. You have NONE. Look down upon me if you like… fear me if it gives you satisfaction… hate me if it makes you feel vindicated… BUT GET THE HELL OUT OF MY FACE!!!” Sousuke hooked grenades at the proper points. He holstered his pistol and his machine pistol. His assault rifle hung on a sling around his shoulder.

“I will not have some psychotic….” Shunya winced as Oichi kicked him hard in the shin.

Sousuke’s vision went red.

For a moment, he actually felt at if he had talons and the need to use them. By force of will, he was able to push his stray thoughts and feelings back down. Even so, feelings of bitterness, hurt, isolation, frustration, hostility, and hate begged to be set free. They competed with brief moments of sadness, indignation, exasperation, and schadenfreude.

“Daddy, it’s the medicine…Sousuke….Daddy doesn‘t….” Kaname was caught in the middle again. She wanted to run to Sousuke, but he was speaking with a tall thin man in a dark suit and dark glasses. Someone walked up to speak with them both.

She was familiar.

“Staaaaaa-ceeeeeee!!!” Kaname knew it wasn’t coincidence. Stacy was the second Mithril operative. She carried her own bag, and after having a quick word with Sousuke, began taking out her own gear. When she was finished, she came over to speak with Kaname.

“Mr. Chidori. Oichi. Kaname….” Stacy smiled, glad to see them all again. Her face went very serious soon thereafter. This was not a fun situation.

“Ayame’s in there,” Kaname said, after giving Stacy a hug.

“I know,” Stacy said. Her face grew very fierce for a moment. Then there was a sparkle in her eye. “I see you brought Sousuke over with you.” She raised an eyebrow, watching Shunya’s face go through a number of negative emotions. “Oh boy!”

“Yes. You probably heard the shouting. Has anyone clued you in on the medications he has taken?” Kaname explained the situation to Stacy, who had been pulled away from a family event with little briefing.

“Shit.” Stacy blushed, realizing who overheard her. “This situation I can help with. That other stuff is far out of my league. I hope your boyfriend is as good as everybody makes him out to be! I better not get in his way.

Sousuke walked over. He waved his arm, and two agents escorted Shunya away, despite his status.

“You are Stacy Winston?” He glared at Stacy in a less than friendly fashion.

“Yes.” Stacy was not offended. She understood the situation.

“What is your class rating at infiltration work?” Sousuke sounded like Cmdr. Mardukas. That was the last thing that Kaname would tell him at the moment.

“I am primarily a bodyguard, Sir.” Despite the similarity in their ages, Stacy acted as if Sousuke was a high ranking officer. “I have third level qualification in stealth work. I have not seen an actual combat situation, however.”

“You will be of some value, regardless.” The statement sounded harsh. Even under the influence of the bio-substance flowing through his veins, Sousuke realized that himself. He put his hand on his forehead and closed his eyes. “I apologize, I have….”

“You are medicated, Sir. I understand. Kaname has told me.” Stacy gave Kaname a fond look and a smile.

Sousuke nodded his head. “I will take lead. You will offer support. Where I direct you, you will go. Whenever I signal, you will stop and take up concealment. Is that understood?”

“Yes, Sir!”

“Very good. Let me see your weapons.” Sousuke did a quick weapons check and declared that Stacy was set. “Admirable.” His eyes squinted a moment. He felt a mischievous urge making its way to the surface and ran with it. “Kaname probably would have put the clips in backward. With a hammer!”

Kaname suddenly went stiff.

Stacy laughed. That didn’t help matters.

Kaname hooked her hands into claws. That girl better NOT have eyes on Sousuke.

“So, you think this is some big joke, Sgt. Sagara?” Kaname clenched her fists and put a sour look on her face.

“DO I HAVE TO RAISE MY VOICE AGAIN?” Sousuke shouted, stepping up to Kaname. She flinched. He spoke directly into her ear. “And tell everyone here that I love you?”

Sousuke had to fight the urge to take her in his arms and kiss her. Affection. Appreciation. Eagerness. Happiness. Love. Lust. Tenderness. Elation. He was being manipulated by the lighter side of his emotions. He could not afford to lose himself in those either.

Kaname’s face went bright read.

First she smiled dreamily, then she got angry. The nerve of that big idiot! Before she had time to say anything else, she stopped. Sousuke had pulled Stacy aside. The two of them crouched and went over the floor plans with a long time curator.

Physically, The Clositers was a single 20th century building, designed to evoke the feelings of monasteries, abbeys, and the like. It incorporated parts of five medieval French cloisters: Saint-Michel-de-Cuxa; Saint-Guilhelm-le-Desert; Bonnefont-en-Comminges; Tre-en-Bigorre; and Froville. Many years ago, cloisters in general had been square courtyards surrounded by a covered walk, surrounding a central garden and serving as places for contemplation, walking, and reading. In the current museum, they served as passageways from gallery to gallery.

Kaname wanted to join in, but knew she couldn’t. Things were out of her hands now. Her place was in the background. She stared at Sousuke. Could he pull off yet another miracle? Would she lose him today? If he died here, they would all perish later on.

She bowed her head. She realized something. There was no reason she couldn’t grab Mr. Smith, her father, and Oichi… jump in the car… and speed as quickly away from New York City as possible. It wouldn’t affect what Sousuke did, or what happened to Ayame. They could all come back when things were done… after Sousuke defeated whatever threat was building in the heart of the city.

No.

She would have faith.

And, if Sousuke and Ayame died, she might not want to go on living anyway, even if she could.

Sousuke stood, waved to Kaname, then signaled to Stacy. “Let’s go!”

It had begun.


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“Naturally, the most important part of our mission will be the first. We need to make it to the service hallway undetected.” Sousuke and Stacy crawled behind a long ornate hedge. “Look over there. That tower.” He pointed to a multi-story stone tower that had once been part of the Benedictine monastery of Saint-Michel-de-Cuxa, located in the northeast Pyrenees. A number of men with guns could be seen on top of the 12th century building, moved stone by stone to this country.

“I see them.” Stacy handed the binoculars back to Sousuke.

“There are also men with guns all along the periphery of the building. Any number could be hiding in the gardens… along the covered walkways…. or in the rooms housing the art. We do not know if the hostages are on the main floor, or the floor beneath. They may well be split up into groups. If it were a primary operation, I would be concerned about bombs and booby traps. Those would be superfluous.” Sousuke pulled out the map again and put it on the ground before them. A chipmunk scooted out of confinement…. ran across the map…. then took off for the nearest hole.

“We pass through the one garden, then enter the hallway. It will bring us into a room on the lower level, correct?” Stacy traced the path with her finger. She wanted to make certain she had heard things correctly before.

“Affirmative. We will then pass through a long narrow room filled with medieval art to reach the far staircase. The near stairway leads to an area that is known to be heavily guarded.”

“OK.” She rubbed her chin, then grinned. “The curator sounded worried that we might damage things. I suppose he has reason to worry. The entire building has more than 5,000 works of art, some of them pretty famous. Good thing he doesn’t know your history!” Stacy shook her head, trying not to smirk.

“That is immaterial.” Sousuke fought down his anger again. He knew it was just a joke, but he couldn’t help himself.

“I love history. The destruction of a single irreplaceable item would disturb me. But, the lives are more important. We DO have reason to be circumspect. It is preferable to clear the lower level silently. I suggest you wander in without weapons. Take the identity of a lost and frightened student. You look the part.” Sousuke took Stacy’s bag for her. “Lead anyone you see into my area. Do you have a silenced weapon I did not examine?”

“No. I wish I did. That idea sounds like it might work. What do we do when get topside? Split up, reconnoiter, then report? Move together, you in the lead and me backing you up?” Stacy began putting on lipstick much to Sousuke’s chagrin. He realized it would make a young girl seem less ominous. Rouge and eyeliner followed.

Sousuke bit his lip to keep from saying something because of his discontent.. For a brief moment, a number of negative emotions pulled at his strings unsuccessfully. Disgust. Aggravation. Contempt. Irritation. He shook them off. Something else began to stir when he saw Stacy smack her lips.

“The latter. My time is limited. At the very least, we will want to create a situation that will expedite the arrival of other professionals. I may have to leave in the middle of the operation. It may be improper, but if we reach a place where we can free Ayame, we will do so before working towards the release of the others.”
Sousuke’s emotions were beginning to dictate some of his actions. It was a worrisome discovery, but it had not reached significant levels as of yet.

Stacy could see the conflict in Sousuke’s face. She understood. “I’ll do whatever I can to help. I would have come here just to help Ayame, you know.”

Sousuke tapped twice on her left shoulder, pointed up at the tower, and began running low. Stacy followed After scanning the area, they crossed over a driveway and ducked along a stone wall. Before long, they reached a nondescript pair of basement-type doors covered with a thin layer of leaves.

He tapped her shoulder three more times. Opening the doors, Sousuke watched Stacy walk in and straighten out her clothes, brushing off any dirt or leaves that had gotten on them. She fluffed her hair.

“Want me to do your hair, Sousuke?” She whispered, the sound carrying back to Sousuke.

Sousuke growled. His reaction changed abruptly after that. The medications were indeed influencing a number of his emotions, instincts, and urges. He tried to turn his eyes aside.

“Nice ass,” he mouthed. His face went red. Where had THAT come from? He hoped that he hadn’t verbalized anything. The movement of Stacy’s buttock was near hypnotic. He had to snap out of it. The image of Kaname helped accomplish that… until his thoughts drifted back to their intimate moment in the house.

Part of his mind teased him, having him wonder what certain parts of Stacy looked, felt, or tasted like in comparison to Kaname.

The feelings and emotions tugged at him as if he were taffy. Awe. The wonders of the female anatomy were a marvel. Lust. He was caught in the grip of longing, craving, and desire. Love. His feelings for Kamame kept cutting through the rest, giving him a moment to come up for air before being pulled back under. Respect. Stacy was a woman, not an object. She was a Mithril operative and part of the mission. Aggravation. Anger. Scorn. Shame. Exasperation. Frustration. Alarm. Confusion. Doubt. Dismay.

So many things calling for his attention in so short a period of time.

“Not now!” He had spoken quietly, but not quietly enough.

Stacy threw herself against one wall of the cinderblock lined hallway. “Sousuke?” She sounded concerned.

“It’s nothing. Continue.” He had to get hold of himself. Not caring if Stacy was ewatching, he banged his head against the nearest wall, raising a painful welt. If Kaname ever tricked him into admitting any of this….

When Stacy reached the doors into the lower level of the basement, she waited for Sousuke. He threaded a small fiber optic cable under the door and looked around.

“No one visible in the entry room. You are free to enter. Be careful.”

“Roger that.” Stacy put her hand on the door. “By the way, you have a nice ass too!” She chuckled.

“Uh….” Sousuke almost dropped the gun he carried. The emotions and feeling began pulling at him again. He had to close his eyes and do a short series of breathing exercises.

“Don’t worry. Our little secret. Medicine?” Stacy grinned. Sousuke looked totally clueless. Kaname’s description was spot on. She set her features. This wasn’t high school. There was no time to be teasing someone.

“Affirmative.” Sousuke was sweating.

“Thanks anyway.” Stacy winked, then pushed down on the door level. The metal door, a fairly new addition, creaked long and low just the same. She winced and looked back at Sousuke.

“It is not a problem. It may actually make your cover appear more credible. I will situate myself at that corner.” Sosuke pointed at a dark recess next to an archway.

“Good location,” Stacy admitted. “You’ll have an excellent view of my…..” She chuckled as she left to check on the enemy.


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“DO NOT MOVE!!!” A slender man of medium height and dark complexion swung around to look at Stacy, an AK-74 in hand. His clothing was nondescript. A well-trimmed beard and moustache framed his facial features. His eyes kept darting about, looking for other possible surprises.

“What? Who are you? Why do you have a gun?” Stacy hoped she wasn’t laying it on too thick. She trusted in her own ability at unarmed combat, but the approaching asshole was too far away. Sousuke had her covered, but a bullet can travel pretty fast before someone else had time to react.

The man called out behind him, speaking in a middle-eastern tongue that she did not understand. Another man answered.

“HOW DID YOU GET THERE? I SAID, DO NOT MOVE!” The man brought his gun up and sighted on Stacy. The girl had begun backing slowly away, her hand at her mouth and a shocked expression on her face.

“I… I… I was hiding. Back here….” She wondered how professional these idiots were. Had they ignored the areas in the darkness, just because the entryway room was unfinished and unlit? Were they relying solely on a map and floor plan?

“HALT….”

Stacy took a gamble. She made a frightened sound, turn, and ran. If the terrorist opened fire, she would be in trouble. She wasn’t as worried about being hit as she was concerned about the sound of gunfire.

There was cursing in that foreign tongue. Then, a sound of running.

As the terrorist ran through the archway, Stacy stuck her foot out and tripped him. The man fell hard to the floor, grunting. Standing, he brought the gun back up. His lifeless fingers released it less than a second later, after Sousuke’s combat knife brutally slit his throat.

“Good,” Sousuke said. He signaled Stacy to step deeper into the shadows. He tossed her the bag he had been carrying. She smiled and took out her weapons. “You will need to set that aside if the next area is a sparcely populated as this. The same trick may work again. First, I have business to attend to.”

Sousuke listened intently. He could hear the quiet steps of the second man. He signaled to Stacy.

“No…leave me alone… NO… don’t touch me….” Stacy sounded as if she were in true distress.

The footsteps grew somewhat quicker, but no less cautious. At the proper moment, Sousuke charged. Stacy blinked, wondering how he could move so quickly.

Bursting from the darkness to the light, Sousuke’s eyes needed a moment to adjust. It didn’t matter. He had already mapped out the man’s location, his weaponry, and his condition of readiness.

A quick chop to the throat with one hand fractured the terrorist’s larynx, making loud speech impossible. The downward punch of another hand sent an Uzi skittering across the floor.

“Move!” Sousuke called out, causing Stacy to sprint into the room. “Scout ahead.” The girl ducked by the two combatants to do just that.

A fierce kick sent the enemy backwards, allowing Sousuke to take hold of his knife again. This would be satisfying. He would harm one of those kidnapping bastards painfully, with great savagery. He swallowed hard, realizing he had to resist the addictive feelings of fury, hate, wrath, and zeal.

The other man drew his own blade, a look of anger and fear coming to his face. He backed warily away, looking behind him to make sure he wasn’t going to be attacked from two sides.

Sousuke moved like a striking snake. His knife embedded itself deep in the man’s shoulder, driving him hard against a glass display case, shattering it. Fortunately, the noise was minimal and no obvious alarm sounded.

The man picked up a chalice and threw it at Sousuke. Its plain silver interior bowl had once been then ambitiously identified as the Holy Grail, the cup used by Christ at the Last Supper. The elaborate, gilded, rinceau-patterned object missed, then rolled across the floor.

Staggering, the terrorist backed hard against an ivory plaque. The carving of St. John the Evangelist detached from the wall, and plummeted towards the hard tiled floor. Stacy leaped, caught the artwork, and knocked the man back towards her partner.

Bleeding heavily, the man called out a guttoral challenge and charged. Sousuke, an animal look on his face, let his knife drop to the floor.

“We don’t have time for this,” Stacy said, bringing Sousuke back in control of his emotions and urges.

His own knife kicked out of his hands by an approaching Sousuke, the terrorist ran around a display, pried open a case, and took out a large heavy golden altar cross, a masterpiece of Romanesque art with some ninety-two figures and ninety-eight inscriptions. He swung it viciously, just missing his dodging opponent.

Sousuke stepped and leaped upward, clearing the case and landing heavily on his adversary, bringing the both of them to the ground. The crossed tumbled through the air, heading for an exquisite 12th century stained glass panel depicting the Martyrdom of Saint Lawrence.

The man had time for one brief grunt before Sousuke took his head in his hands and broke his neck. Stacy snagged the cross with one hand, somersaulted, and came back up on her feet. She took a bow. Sousuke just shook his head.

They headed towards the stair well that would lead up to a Gothic chapel and a hall of early Gothic works.

Stacy hesitated ever so briefly to gaze in wonder at one of the great masterpieces on view at The Cloisters, a 13th century precious ivory statuette of the Virgin and Child.

“We don’t have time for that,” Sousuke said.


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The two Mithril agents moved with admirable stealth. They could hear voices coming from just around the corner. Sousuke signaled Stacy to stay put and stow away her equipment. Moving more like a wraith than a man, he sped through the landing area. His first leap and roll brought him to the opening of an ornate Gothic chapel. There were two men there talking, one with a walkie-talkie near his foot and the other with a lit cigarette in his hand. A small pile of ground out cigarettes stained the carpet he stood on. Both men had left their rifles sitting at their feet.

Big mistake.

The first feeling that struck Sousuke was one of fear. Fear, insignificance, and shame. The room carried about it a sense of holiness and sanctity. Here he was, bringing a stench of death and destruction with him. He had walked into God’s house, shouldering ire and indignation along with his weapons. For a moment, he bowed his head and closed his eyes, suffocated by guilt.

The one man dropped another smoldering cigarette as he laughed. He didn’t even bother stamping it out. That changed Sousuke’s emotions, causing him to turn outward instead of inward. His anger flared up, supplanted by hatred. These men didn’t care about things that mattered. They were part of the group that had taken Ayame hostage.

He felt as if he were expanding, growing, transforming. Yes. He was the Angel of Death. He may not be worthy himself, but he could do God’s work in his own way. Taking one last glance at the tapestries, carvings, and sculptures spread throughout the room, Sousuke moved.

One man turned and pointed. Even if he had gone for his weapon, it would have been too late. Sousuke left his dagger in that man’s throat, not wanting to to see the crimson stain spreading around the burned area of carpet. The second man bent over, an equally useless move. He had been overly concerned about his own life. He should have called out a warning to his comrades elsewhere. That had been his last chance to speak. His hand made it to his rifle.

Sousuke kneed him hard to the groin, making him gurgle and bend over in reflex. Pulling a wire garrote out of his sleeve, the young operative wrapped it around the man’s neck and pulled tight, twisting the ends together. Filled with unreasonably excessive anger, he watched the terrorist vainly claw at his neck, suffocating painfully. He turned and left before his victim had actually died.

Retracing his steps, he slid along a wall in the opposite direction. Peaking into the Early Gothic Hall, he saw two more men. One was reclining, throwing coins up at lovely stained glass panels with a light, bright palette of unusual colors. The expressive, boldly silhouetted figures and the dramatic narrative had made that windows among the finest of the period, rivaling the stained glass at the cathedrals of Chartres and Bourges. The depicted figure of Theodosius did not look amused.

The other man, his submachine gun hanging on a sling, kicked a number of empty beer bottles at his feet. Beer foamed and spilled out of a gold-mounted rock-crystal salt cellar, whose full bowl rested on a high, knopped stem above a tapered conical base, a rare example of Early Gothic goldsmiths' work. The artifact was meticulously carved and decorated with seed pearls, and emeralds.

Stacy came at Sousuke quiet signal. She was needed to draw the attention of the man with the gun. The other fool had left his shotgun hanging from the feet of a carved mid-13th century Tomb Effigy of Jean d'Alluye.

“Oh my, not here too….” Stacy gasped as she stepped into the room.

The man with the gun shouted “Hold!” He moved quickly towards the blonde girl, carefully looking beyond the doorway. “What are you doing away from the others? Come here!”

Stacy backed away out of the room. The man moved quicker than she thought he might, and grabbed her by her blouse collar. Jerking, he pulled her back in with him. She was about to punch him hard in the gut when she felt something brush against her cheek. A few blonde hairs fell to the ground.

The armed terrorist staggered backward, blood fountaining from his mouth. The hilt of Sousuke’s knife protruded from his throat.

Stacy was roughly pushed to the floor as Sousuke vaulted over her, the butt of his assault rifle aimed for the other man’s head. Just before the enemy could grab his gun, Sousuke slammed the stock right between his eyes, causing him to wobble and see stars. Stacy tried to follow the action, but could not.

Sousuke went airborne, two feet knocking the man backward. He fell across the dead body of his comrade. The blood-covered knife left one man’s throat and thunked into the chest of the other. Again and again Sousuke rammed the knife in, even after his adversary was clearly unconscious.

“Sousuke….” Stacy said quietly, shocked and nauseated by what she now saw. Blood ran up and down one of Sousuke’s arms and made a grotesque dripping splash mark across his chest.

“Do NOT judge me,” Sousuke hissed. The fury and rage had not left him. They coiled around his heart like adders. For a moment, the look he turned on Stacy had her frightened, back-peddling.

Eyes closed, and teeth clenched, Sousuke pulled at his hair. He breathed in long ragged gasps, fighting against the effect of the medicine. Again, he was able to fight down most of his raw aggression.

“Sorry.”

“It’s not a problem,” Stacy said, relieved.

“Uh….” Sousuke wondered what Kaname had told her about him.

Stacy smiled, then waited for Sousuke’s next command. He signaled her to lay low. She obeyed. Looking around the room, she knew there was no way to hide the aftermath of Sousuke’s work.

She left the bodies where they lay.


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Sousuke was hyperventilating.

He was afraid.

There was no real reason for it, but he couldn’t help himself. He was terrified about the idea of being spotted, as he carefully moved from the the Early Gothic Hall towards the Chapter House from Notre-Dame-de-Pontaut. He had to pass by a broad expanse of the Cuxa Clositer’s central garden. Its columns and pilasters were medieval versions of the classical Corinthian column, based on the spiny leaf of the acanthus. The sturdy columns, decorated with clustered blossoms and swirling vine forms, left sizeable open areas. He hid behind any available structures, his bloody sleeve painting the dark and cream-colored limestone like a brush. It was not the first such stain---like other French monasteries, Cuxa had seen much suffering during the religious wars following the Reformation and during the French Revolution.

There was nobody visible in the large recessed areas, but that did not stop the overwhelming feelings of apprehension, alarm, and dread. Sousuke’s vision blurred for a short stretch, forcing him to pull himself together yet again.

He slid himself slowly along the floor, his weapon at the ready. He and Stacy had gotten far without drawing attention to themselves. That could end any moment.

Resting against the entryway to the Chapter House, he listened. In the distant past, whenever any important business has to be done in the monastery, an Abbot would call together the whole community and state the matter to be acted upon, using just such a room as this. Rectangular in shape and furnished with stone-hewn benches encircling the expanse, the room was illuminated by windows on the rear wall, as well as by the arcades at the entrance. It was filled with men and women with guns, some of whom were speaking into a TV camera set-up. Some of the group leaders must be in there.

Sousuke fought down the urge to throw a fragmentation grenade in the room.

“This is Sagara. Give me Rockefeller.” Quickly and quietly, he described his progress and told the agent how many men were present in the Chapter House. He requested the assistance of sovereign ant-terrorist troops, describing the hazards and areas they would need to traverse unseen. He then rejoined Stacy.

“I saw no hostages, living or dead,” he told her. “We will need to sneak past a number of areas unseen.” He looked at his watch. There was time, but not too much.

“When we get to the Romanesque Hall, you will go in armed, but set for scouting. I will continue along the fringes of the central cloister, then look in on the Late Gothic Hall on the other side of the building.”

Stacy nodded.

They began to move, but stopped. Voices could be heard down an adjacent stretch of the covered walkways. If the men turned the corner, the two Mithril operatives would be seen. If the headed through the Nine Heroes Tapestry Room and into the Gothic Chapel or Early Gothic Hall, they would discover their dead comrades.

Stacy scowled and readied her two submachine guns. Sousuke brought his F2000 up to his shoulder. The voices stopped, stayed stationary for a few moments, then went back the way they came.

“Those men will be a problem for me when I reach the other side. If you hear me open fire, move quickly and kill anyone who crosses your path armed. Be sure to locate the captives if you can, before someone decides to take them out. Let’s move.” Stacy left quickly, cautiously ducking her way past the long frontal arcades of the meeting area.

Sousuke went to move, but couldn’t. He was breathing too fast again, and his arms felt limp and lifeless.

“There is nothing to fear…. there is nothing to be afraid of… there is nothing to fear… I am not frightened or afraid.”

With all of his will, he brought himself to a standing position. Seeing Stacy give him a ‘V’ sign before she turned the corner and disappeared from view, Sousuke went down the pathway that led to the innermost area of the Cuxa cloister. He could hear those voices again, speaking in a Persian dialect. Running from column to column, he stationed himself at the end of the crossway. He checked his taser, making certain that its meter indicated a full charge.

NOW!

He ran fast and low to the ground. A rolling tackle brought down both men on top of him. An elbow slammed hard into his jaw unintentionally, just as a knee barely missed his groin. The first man was put to sleep quietly. The second adversary managed to get out all of three words. If anyone else was nearby, they may have been enough.

Swearing, Sousuke kicked a pair of AN-94s into the cloister area.

Grunting, he dragged both men into the rear corner of the Cuxa clositer, feeling slightly short of breath when he was done. His rage and fear now under control, he began to struggle with feelings of compassion, sadness, guilt, and helplessness. There was no way he could afford to leave living foes behind him. Swallowing hard, he dragged his knife against the throats of both unconscious men. He retched, his body nearly going into convulsions.

Tears filled his eyes, and bile ran up into his throat.

There was no time for this. He had to move on. There were still much larger fish to catch, gut, and fry. He wanted to make sure Ayame was safe before he had to move on to bigger things.


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Sousuke slowly peered around the door frame leading into the darkened Late Gothic Hall. He soon found why the lights were out. Three men stood menacingly, one with a knife in his hand… one with a gun… and one with an erection, his pants down at his knees. Four women sat quivering against the far wall, afraid of what was going to come next. The men all laughed and urged each other on. One of the captives buried her face in her hands.

The black rage began to fill the young soldier again. Following doctrine, he should have waited for Stacy, as two fighters might be needed to keep this fight contained. Both ends of the room had opening, places that more hostages might be housed.

Sousuke looked up on the wall. Colorless glass… with silver stain and vitreous paint… depicted Saint Anthony Abbot's test of faith at the hands of a clutch of demons, in a charming if somewhat naive Late Gothic style. Dressed as an abbot, the saint was holding a crosier, which terminated in a tau cross and a mendicant's bell. He was surrounded by fantastical beasts.

Sousuke pictured the terrorists as demons, feeling an uncontrollable urge to destroy them.

He began to take a step into the room, but stopped. He struggled mightily with himself, whispering that the good of the many outweighed the good of a few. He mouthed a silent apology to the women about to be assaulted.

His eyes were drawn to wonderful glass panes, with slender elongated figures enveloped in soft, trailing drapery and placed under soaring canopies suggest that the glass painter was well versed in the prevailing style of the Lower Rhineland. The Virgin Mary and Five Standing Saints were illustrated.At the left Saint Servatius, bishop of Tongres, holds a key presented to him by the pope in recognition of his fight against heresy, symbolized by the dragon he tramples.

Sousuke had no desire to read the informative plaque that informed museum goers that the three lancets on the left were originally placed over the three on the right, in the north nave of the former Carmelite church at Boppard-am-Rhein near Koblenz.

The dragon.

It was a warriors goal and duty to slay dragons.

There were three standing before him.

His pride began to fill him, finding every available nook and cranny. No, more than pride: hubris. Confidence. Insolence. Hauteur. Haughtiness.

Their backs were turned. There were only three. What chance did they have?

Taser in one hand and knife in the other, he walked slowly into the room, daring the men to notice his approach. The women looked up at him, not knowing if he was yet another tormentor, or an avenging ally.

This tapestry fragment situated over the women had a representation a fabulous lion-like beast with pointed teeth, clawed feet, and a scaly rump. Such beasts, derived from those illustrated in classical and medieval texts on the nature of animals, symbolize vices related to concupiscence; they are subdued, which suggests the figures posed with them have conquered libidinous cravings. Seeing the women, Sousuke blinked repeatedly, after feeling a warmth in his groin. They were all attractive. One had her shirt torn open to reveal….

He had obviously not conquered his own cravings. Holding his breath, he slammed his knife hilt against his own forehead, needing to regain his focus.

“Mmmmmm…” The man with the knife began turning, seeing the change in expression on the captives’ faces, and following their stare. He never had chance to say an actual word, as Sousuke rammed the knife into his voice box with a horrid crunching sound, a fraction of a second before he used the taser to knock out the man with the Uzi.

The thirds man tripped over his pants. As the women began to speak up and looked ready to run, Sousuke shushed them. Kicking the supine man hard in the head, he shook the taser at the frightened ladies, explaining that any noise or attempt at escape would draw the attention of the terrorists. They had their own important roll to play, conscious or unconscious. Pale and shivering, they all nodded their heads or murmured their acquiescence.

The pantless man had been faking.

He was not unconscious.

The miscreant sprung up and began to run for an opening. Sousuke reached over into a broken display case, picked up the only item that remained, and threw it with all his might. The large beaker, a “monkey cup,” was one of the finest surviving examples of medieval enamel created for a princely table, illustrated with scenes from a popular legend that remarks on the folly of man.

A peddler is robbed by a band of apes as he sleeps. The peddler, seen just above the base, fails to stir even as the apes strip away his clothes. Other apes, having taken his goods, cavort in the branches overhead.

For a brief moment, Sousuke’s mind dredged up a bit of useless errata. He remembered a scene from the terrible final movie of the Planet of The Apes films. Caesar, the lead character, called out “Now, fight like apes.” Tapping into his primal instincts again, Sousuke did just that.

The well-thrown object tripped the man. Running, Sousuke swung himself around a pillar, hurling himself towards his opponent. Laying in a heap, the man threw the beaker back at Sousuke, missing.

Walking into the room, Stacy caught the priceless work of art, then looked on with awe as Sousuke drove both boot heels into the man’s jaw… picked the man up over his head… and rammed him back headfirst into the floor. The terrorist, his neck broken, spasmed uncontrollably just before he died.

“Showing off for the ladies?” Stacy quipped, throwing the beaker in the air and catching it. “I found….”

“Negative!” Sousuke said, somewhat embarrassed. Retrieving his knife, he killed the only living terrorist left in the room.

“You….” He pointed, ordering a grumbling Stacy off to look in the adjacent Campin Room. He himself headed into the Main Hall, scanning each of the other three openings in the diamond shaped room.

“I….” Stacy closed her mouth and did as ordered. When she finally finished her task, she returned to report to Sousuke, who had just returned himself.

“I found captives in the Langon Chapel, Saint Guilhelm cloister, and the Fuentiduena Chapel. There were mostly children, but I didn’t see Ayame. There are women being held in the Campin room, along with the dead bodies of two apparent museum officials. The latter room had two guards. The former areas had three to five each.

“Very good. I will pass along well-deserved praise if we both survive this day.” Sousuke nodded his head, impressed.

“There are at least five armed men situated in the main entry foyer, just off of the Main Hall. The Room used for books and reproductions is packed with children, including Ayame. There are three armed men in that room. They appear alert, and each is armed with an AN-94 and a pistol.”

Sousuke showed Stacy the placement of the terrorists on their copy of the floor plans.

“I will need to use weapons to defeat those three men. That will draw enemies from all other parts of the building. But, if we defeat the men between us and the upper driveway, we can get the hostages to safety…… if our outer allies can take out the men at the periphery and on the tower.”

Sousuke reported back in with agent Rockefeller, telling him what he and Stacy had noted, and what they would require to bring the one group of hostages out safely. He wanted an update on the contra-terrorism forces, and learned they were passing through the Early Gothic Hall as they spoke.

“Time to move. You find an advantageous spot in the Main Hall. Hold those men off as best you can. I will go free the children.” Sousuke began to run across the Main Hall quietly. Barely audible words followed him.

“Do you want to throw anything else before we go? Look over here at this lovely ensemble; it contains all of the elements needed for the celebration of the Mass: the paten for the bread, the chalice to hold the wine, and a straw to sip the wine.”

Stacy took a brief glance at the items. Most often used in pairs, straws became particularly popular in the thirteenth century. They were used to prevent spilling the wine, consecrated as the actual blood of Christ. The decoration of this chalice and paten juxtaposes scenes from the life of Christ with the Old Testament events that were considered to prefigure them. The twelve apostles encircle the bowl of the chalice.

Sousuke did not answer.

Anger wrestled with sheepishness, having just overcome indignation and guilt. He held his breath, strengthened his resolve, and took out his pistol. This would be close in work. The Glock would serve best.

Just about to step into the book room, he grimaced when his watch alarm went off.


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The element of surprise had been lost. The enemy had heard the alarm.

Sousuke could see parts of all three adversaries from his angle, while only two of the men had a good view of him. He knew enough Farsi to know that one man was about to start killing the hostages.

He sprinted, gun up.

Shots hit the wall behind him and at his side, just as he began firing. A bullet grazed his upper thigh, causing him to grimace. One of his shots took a man straight in the eye, blowing out the back of his head. Another hit another man’s jaw, hurting him greatly but not fatally.

The third man was in the act of pulling his trigger. The gun was pointed at Ayame. In what appeared to be slow motion, Sousuke saw her raise her hands in fear.

There was the sound of a rifle firing.

As Sousuke knocked Ayame to the ground, the bullet destined for her heart passed through the fleshy part of his left shoulder, burying itself in the manuscripts behind him. A second and third bullet barely missed.

Return fire peppered the man’s chest, causing him to stumble and fall over a pile of books as he died. He had spared a bullet for the man with a mangled jaw, putting it inside his blood-filled mouth. Blood ran down along the window behind him in crimson rivulets.

Automatic fire could be heard just beyond the room. Stacy and her foes! Faint fire could be heard elsewhere. The anti-terrorist forces.

“Soooouuuussss-kkkkaaaayyyy….” Ayame threw herself on Sousuke, shocked to feel blood on her hands. “You’re hurt….”

“Yes. Let’s get you out of here safely.” He smiled. “I could not let anyone hurt you.”

Not having time to notice the gratitude and worship in the young girl’s eyes, Sousuke ordered the other children to follow close behind him, letting him know immediately if they saw any other adults.

“Stay twenty feet back. Run when I tell you… outside… without stopping!” Sousuke holstered his pistol and took out the MP-7. Time for its baptism under fire. He moved, seeming to the children to have vanished into thin air.

“Stacy, down!” Sousuke watched as the blonde girl dropped one submachine gun while running the other one dry. She wouldn’t have time to reload or pull out her pistol before the approaching men finished her. There must have been a fair number of terrorists waiting just outside the main door, quick to step back inside.

The MP-7 chattered, tossing out special high velocity 4.6x30mm bullets. That ammunition, unique to the weapon and said to have 100% penetration of the CRISAT type body armor, had no difficulty punching through shirts, pants, limbs, chests, necks, and heads.

Three front men fell down early, allowing Stacy to bring her Colt M1911 up and add to the carnage. Bullets striking near them, tshe and Sousuke took down the opposition in short order, splattering the walls, floors, and doors with red, creating a fair amount of future work for restoration crews.

The firefight filled Sousuke with rapture, his altered feelings thrilling in the power he had over life and death. He had no time or inclination to lament over the bliss, elation, and joy he felt. Seeing his own handiwork, he felt as if he too were an artist. Pleasure flooded him, making him dizzy and disoriented for a moment.

The front doors opened. Both Sousuke and Stacy were ready to fire. There was no need. The terrorist who fell inside was missing the top of his head.

Sousuke was disappointed.

He grit his teeth together. The clock was moving. There was something he needed to do. With a gargantuan effort, he drove away the surplus of emotions.

“This is Sagara. What is the status out front?” Sousuke listened to the response. “Very good. Have everyone hold fire, then. I am sending the children out. Agent Winston and myself will follow behind them.”

Sousuke looked down at Stacy, seeing blood on her sleeve and on one pants leg. “Can you walk?”

“Not just staring at my ass again, are you?” Stacy still joked, even though she was in obvious pain. “Yeh… I can shuffle a bit. Looks like they got you too. Red is NOT your color. Going to be able to carry out the next duty?”

“Shhhh….” Sousuke saw Ayame peak around the corner. He hoped she hadn’t heard anything. Probably not. She was too quiet.

“Children! Run! Now! Out the front doors….”

The group of terrified boys and girls made their way out of the building, met by National Guardsmen and police officers who would bring them to the medical tent and reunite them with worried relatives.

“I’m sorry, but I need to leave now,” Sousuke told Stacy, looking at his watch. He took out his communicator again. “I need the helicopter now. I will head to the marked clearing.”

“Good luck,” Stacy wished him, giving him a big thumbs up. “Mum’s the word.”

“Mum?” Ayame looked at Stacy, then at Sousuke. “Are we going to see Daddy and Kaname, now? Is Oichi here?”

Sousuke bent over and ruffled Ayame’s hair. “You must follow the other children. You will be safe. Everyone is waiting for you. I have another job to do. I will see you later.”

“But….” Ayame reached out her hand, watching Sousuke sprint off.


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Kaname caught sight of Sousuke running. His shoulder area was red. He limped slightly. Her father saw him as well. Both moved to cut the young soldier off.

“Sousuke!” Kaname shouted, running. She smiled when she saw him stop. “Sousuke, is Ayame alright???”

“Yes. She is headed towards the medical tent, unharmed.” Sousuke took off his shirt. He dropped a role of bandages at Kaname’s feet.

“PLEASE. You know the drill. But, I have little time. I need to be airborne NOW.” Heading down the promenade, Sousuke had answered a call from the TDD-1. Arbalest had been launched a bit earlier. ETA was under fifteen minutes.

The onslaught of his emotions began again.

Sousuke would be playing it close. Very close.

His heart was pounding. He began to sweat heavily, feeling his breathing speed up and his arms tremble. He was anxious, so very anxious.

Kaname, tears of joy and concern streaming down her face, quickly and adeptly bandaged Sousuke’s wound after packing it as best she could. She knew he needed more treatment than that. He would be in serious danger because of that wound alone.

“Young man… I….” Shunya stopped before the two of them, an unreadable look on his face. “I owe you an apology. They told me… they said that… Ayame….”

Oichi walked over and took Shunya’s hand. She looked over at Sousuke, a concerned look on her face.

“We can discuss it later, Sir. I do not wish to be rude, but I need to go now.” He moved his bandaged arm and shoulder.

“Good job. I may just keep you.” He saw Kaname smile. “GOT TO MOVE!!!”

“Sousuke, those bumps on your forehead, what happened?” Kaname reached her hand out tentatively, to brush it against Sousuke as he moved past.

“Uh….” Sousuke did not have an excuse thought up. He remembered staring at Stacy, and at the woman with the torn blouse. “NO TIME!!!” He gave Kaname a quick kiss and ran off towards the waiting helicopter.

She didn’t want him to go, but she had been through this before. It was his job to fight. It was her job to wait and hope.

“Maybe Stacy will know…..” Kaname said to her father and Oichi

[Andrei Burnside]

This was a nice chapter to read. Sometimes it's nice to see Sousuke unhinged. Reading this reminded me of particular parts of Rainbow Six. It was a bit different though (knife use and primal killing). Sousuke was a real beast in this chapter, and you characterized him well, and the reduction in side effects from the drugs, coupled with people's understanding of his state of mind, lifted any of the Sousuke snapping worries. Still...he's got an orginal doomsday plot to deal with, I congratulate you on going outside the norm there. (Completely Unrelated Side Note: Listening to Your Disease by Saliva seems entire appropriate for this chapter in reference to Sousuke)

[Avlor]

/Av jumps up and down screaming wildly..

YAY YAY YAY! Sousuke gets to be the hero in the family's eyes! Yay!

Anxiously awaiting next chapter...

/Av secretly wonders if the meds may not really be meds...if they are just seeing what Sousuke will do if he thinks he's on meds...(conspiracy theory).