Karin Fan Fiction / Crossover With Non-anime Series Fan Fiction ❯ Karin: Homo Sapiens Nocturni ❯ Chapter 19

Chapter 19

 

After laying Fumio down to sleep off the effects of the infusion, Blade took Jean-Claude's twins down to their apartment for the next difficult task. Sure enough, there was Yuriya, looking all over the vast apartment for her husband. When she walked into the living room, the trio standing there, along with their blank expressions, seemingly told her everything she needed to know. “What happened to him?” asked Yuriya, now with a tremble to her voice.

“Mrs. Makka, he's alive,” answered Blade, but Yuriya continued as if he had not finished his thought, saying, “But he's not okay.”

“Mother, you know father has been in sticky spots before,” said Sheila.

“Are you saying he was captured?” she then asked, now becoming worse emotionally.

“Dad will be okay,” Mickey tried to assure, but now tears were streaming down her face.

“Mrs. Makka,” said Blade, not changing his voice any from the matter-of-fact tone he was bearing, “He has been in tough spots before, yes?”

She nodded, and then he said, “So, you know these are the things that happen when he fights for a cause. You know he takes a risk…”

“But why does this always have to happen?” Yuriya snapped, now in tears, cutting off Blade, “Doesn't he think about the kids, about me?”

Blade, not one known for compassion, continued on, hoping something would click, and he said, “It's because of you that he does this. It seems that way. Would you deny him that privilege?”

“I'm just sick of all this fighting,” she responded, now slumping down to the couch, “He's been at it for some time now, and lately, almost continually. I want it to stop. I want it to all go away.”

The twins went over to try to console her while Blade just paced back and forth, not certain how to answer. “First of all, we're doing all we can to find him,” said Blade, “Every one of your Clan say that have bats on it, whatever that means.”

“We can control bats and see through them,” said Mickey, “The four of us kids can only see so far alone, but with a chain of bats, our vision is almost limitless.”

“Is that where the bat myths come from?” asked Blade, not because he was interested, but he needed to know more about with whom he was allied. “Yes,” answered Sheila, “With the amount of bats going out, it should not take long to find something. We are hoping for some point tonight. We can only call in sick one or two days. After that, we have a problem, especially since the city baseball playoffs start tomorrow. He is coaching, and he would be missed.”

Blade thought for a moment, and then he said, “That doesn't mean I don't have means available to me. The rest of his crew is meeting in his war room, so that's where I am taking Shin and Crystal. We're going to do some searching of our own! In the meantime, put in a missing persons report. Make up anything that won't get the police prying too much, but at least get that covered.”

Before he left, he walked up to Yuriya, and he said, “Listen up: your husband is strong, and he expects strength from all who are his, right?”

His tone was stern, but supportive, and her head snapped up in response to this. She said, “Yes, that's true.”

“Then the last thing he wants is to see is wife all like this!” Blade then said, “Turn it into something else. Turn your sadness into something constructive.”

With that, he turned on his heels and went to the strategy room.

 

Once there, the Hand was assembled, and they were all trying to figure out where to go from that point. Karin was becoming vocal, trying to keep things in order when Blade entered the room. Everyone went quiet, and they all looked at him as his companions followed behind. “Okay, listen up! I don't usually do things in a team, but considering the risk we face, and my butt is included now with that, I don't have time to be choosy. You have resources; I have knowledge of the creature we face. We have to be quick, because, if they manage somehow to get out of Jean-Claude information about how you operate, how your wards work, where you are seeded, your weakness, and other things, all of you are dead; it's just a matter of time. The reinforcements you say you have in Japan would not be able to get here fast enough to aid you. If you have bats for spies, then you need to add Amayah strongholds to the list of things to find. We do this, and strike as many of them as we can tomorrow night, once we have that information. We need to scare them into action, and make them move first. By doing that—by hitting those safe houses, sub-headquarters, and things like that—we can force them to expose themselves. As we cover our tracks, they won't be able to cover their very well. We then see who reacts, and how they react to it. Where are your computer banks?”

Karin led him to a console, but Shin took a seat. Karin then said, “Anjou, tell your bats to tell the kids and the other bats to get this information, and as fast as you can. We need to get a game plan ready for tomorrow.”

 

Before long, the bats were pouring information in like never before. They had hit the more known strong houses of Amayah, but the rest were very well hidden. However, since the undead were unfamiliar with the use of bats, they were not expecting the prying eyes that came out of the night. Later on, the data was laid out, and they started pouring over things. The remaining points were centered in Manhattan, and they went from Times Square all the way down to the port. Karin then said, “I would rather split up and go from the outside in. More than likely, we may find Jean-Claude along the way. However, Jean-Claude has always warned about going after something too big for us seven to handle, so splitting up would be no good.”

“Maybe not,” answered Shin, “but right now, I am trying to run some data on those places to see if they have a connection, and one common name to which they are attached. Who knows; if we disrupt enough, it could get the press involved, and someone can surface.”

“What about Lichen, Big sister,” asked Anjou.

“Could we convert them in time?” asked Karin.

“You may not have time,” responded Blade, “Besides, they are not really warriors, save for maybe Lucas, their pure blood leader. He has Native American roots, and he has fighter in him. He just doesn't like to use it all the time.”

“Maybe he has information on Amayah?” stated Karin.

“He could, that's a very strong possibility,” stated Crystal, “You and I could talk to him. I have a good line with him, and I don't think he would mind divulging that kind of information.”

“Alright,” Karin said, “Die Kaiserenhand!”

“Achtung, Baby!” they all responded.

“There is not much more we can do for now, so let's go upstairs and get the place ready for reopen,” stated Karin, “We cannot disrupt things too much, lest we get too many people asking questions about why a twenty-four hour facility is suddenly closed without a reason.”

They all were ready to go, but before they did, Shin then said, “Oh, this is great!”

“What'd you find?” asked Blade.

“There are a few names I have to look up, and that will take a few,” Shin answered, “But they all seem to have the same financial ties. I have to find where they all lead.”

Karin caught a gleam in her eye, and she said, “If we do well enough tomorrow night, you may find out sooner than you think.”

 

As they split up, Blade pulled Karin aside for a private word. “I wondered if there was someone to take over,” he said, “I didn't figure on you.”

“When we took down the Inquisition,” said Karin, “They had captured him, and somehow, I just found it. You never would have known it if you had first met me.”

“So, he has had to face this before!” said Blade.

“Yeah,” she answered, “But then, they were a bunch of naïve humans, and they didn't know what they had. They restrained him, but not all that well. He had half the place tore up by the time we got there.”

“But you don't seem like someone who could not handle this,” said Blade.

“During our war with the Inquisition, I didn't think I could.”

“So, why'd you get involved?”

“I got sick of being helpless. Hondo and Jean-Claude trained me and my little sister, who took to it far quicker than I did, and it just got easier. It's scary, but Jean-Claude told me that, once I had a few kills under my belt, killing was just like drinking water. I wish that were not true, but when it comes time to fight, I get that way.”

“You have to be that way, or you don't come home.”

“I know, but, it just seems like I am two different people in that case.”

“Then you need to learn where the line is. The problem comes when they start to become the same person.”

Karin was quiet for a few moments, and then she said, “You know, that almost seems like what is happening to Jean-Claude.”

“What do you mean?” he asked, stopping in his pace and staring at her.

“This has only been in the last couple of weeks, but he seems to think more of this fight and the Dream than before. What I mean is, it has started to creep into his talk more and more.”

Blade sighed and said, “I had to learn that line myself, and he needs to as well.”

“What do you mean?”

“Karin, if he does not, then the very thing he wants to stop he may just cause. Even the best of men can get corrupt when they do not see their goals come like they want. If what I think will happen with this Clan happens, that is going to happen. Suddenly, the wielding of power will seem more and more attractive to him if that means he can get his goals.”

Karin looked at him oddly, and she said, “But, he is such a spiritual person. I could never see him becoming a dictator or…”

Blade cut her off, and he said, “I said that even the best of men have this happen. Look, I am not so optimistic about this Dream ever becoming public. It could, but what I am saying is this: he has obtained a one-track mind on the matter. He has to leave himself open to other options.”

“Other options—what other options are there?”

“That could go from all-out war with humans to breaking the whole thing up. There are many stops in between, but not all of them are the best.”

“Then…then what we have to do is to, at least, get him to see that there is more than two outcomes to this—win or lose.”

“Don't worry, big sister, I am certain that, between the two of us, we can convince him.”

Karin was used to Anjou doing this, but Blade nearly jumped out of his skin. Within seconds, Blade had his sword out, and he clashed with Anjou's blade a few times before he figured out who it was. “God, kid!” he exclaimed, “You can get yourself killed like that!”

“To this day, we still don't know how she does that!” laughed Karin.

“We have a way with big brother,” Anjou said in her normal way, “We can talk to him. He will listen.”

“Hard to believe that you were not what you are,” said Blade to Karin.

“I was once a clueless ditz,” she answered, “but fighting for your existence makes you see clearer. Well, it's that, and the Kannon: she is my ray of sunshine. Having a kid really makes you think in a different way.”

 

Jean-Claude had been so lost in thought; he had not even realized that he had fallen asleep. In fact, his sleep had been so deep, it seemed as if he closed his eyes, and then opened them to daylight in the next instant. He woke refreshed, but like anyone who had that experience, he felt like he had been robbed of something. He took the time to look around the room for a bit, and realized that his every luxury was indeed taken care of. He had a stereo, a flat-screen TV with one of the kind of game consoles that are directly interactive—your moves match what is on the screen. The open space was sizeable enough for the use of such a thing, and it also had a worktable for him if he cared to use such, which he had to assume doubled as his dining table. The whole place was done up like Draco's office, but as a bedroom. By the clock they also provided, it was about 6 in the morning, which meant that he would not be at work, and he hoped that his wife was able to cover for this. However, he also knew that there was only so far that would go, so he hoped that a solution would come soon. As he examined, he also found where the cameras were, for he knew that he would not be unwatched in all of this. He found one in the corner, and he got a chair to examine it. As soon as he started to make like he was reaching for it, a voice came over the intercom: “Mr. Makka sir, we would please ask you not to tamper with the cameras.”

He shuddered at the sudden voice, grinned, and then went over to the intercom. “Is there an importance to them?” he asked, as if he did not know.

“It's for safety reasons,” the voice, clearly female, responded.

“Who's: your safety or mine?” he asked.

“It's as you prefer,” she said, “We just ask you not to tamper with them.”

“Right,” he said, but before he took his hand off the “push-to-talk” switch, something dawned on him. He said, “You're human, aren't you?”

“What does that matter, sir?” she said, quite frankly.

“You wouldn't be up at this time of day,” he responded, “You have to be at the front desk, or somewhere in operations to be seeing all this.”

“I am not at liberty to say more Mr. Makka,” she then said.

“Why?” he then demanded, “Are you undead, or are you afraid of your undead masters punishing you for talking?”

There was a bit of hesitance, which told him all he needed to know. This was not necessarily the case, but he was willing to gamble that she was a human that had been fed responses, and she had no clue on how to answer such a thing swiftly enough to conceal just who was talking to him. She also had no clue to whom she talked, because he was far cleverer than any may have given him credit. She did answer, and she said, “Sir, its best not to ask questions. It's better for everyone that way.”

“Why?” he pressed, “What are you afraid of?”

“Sir,” she now said, with a bit of edge to her voice, “I would now advise you to cease with this questioning. Besides, how do you know that some vampires are not up now, just staying away from the sun?”

He was more convinced now that she was a human familiar, because, if she was undead, she would have been more in the habit of saying “we” and “us” instead of “some vampires.” It would be more habitual for the undead to talk of themselves in the first person. That may not have been the case, but he was applying a bit of pressure to her, believing that she had no skill to think on her feet under this kind of pressure. There may well be vampires up, but that was not to say that she was one of them. He then said, “I'm sorry; I'm just trying to get used to things,” and released the switch. Once he had done this, he began to ponder a few matters. He walked over to the three windows, and he noticed that the paneling was designed to give the effect of smaller windows as opposed to the large, modern panel windows that marked WTC 7. However, he also looked over the edges inside, and it seemed that they had forgotten one thing: there was no way to block the sunlight should a vampire come in. Apparently, this was not a place where they would normally come, and somehow, it was overlooked. A confidence began to grow in him, and he began to formulate a plan.

 

He went and grabbed a change of underwear and pajamas and went into the bathroom. There was the best in hygiene products laid out for him, including the best shaving equipment that could be bought. He then began to examine the switches to see what they did, and he found the switch for the lights around the mirror, for the bathroom itself, one special for the shower, and the vent fan. He stopped, and played with the switch a few times as he looked at the ceiling. It was paneled, but set lower than the one in his bedroom. The wheels were grinding as things became clearer. To make it look like habit, he turned on the water to the shower and closed the door without turning on the vent. He stood outside for about five minutes as he nonchalantly looked up to see that the ceiling, though it looked like it was fancy solid, was also paneled. He then went back into the bathroom. He expected to see the mirror all fogged up, but he also knew that, by the amount of steam, the cameras in there were also fogged up. He would play it cool, and then strike later. He turned on the vent and entered the shower, and then took care of his persona hygiene.

 

When he came out in his undies and pajamas, he saw that his breakfast had been brought. This was as he had thought he heard while in there: someone enter, set something down, and then leave. It was also as he had expected. They waited until he was doing something out of sight, sneak in, and drop off his meal. Even if there were still undead up at that time guarding the human bringing in the food, there had to be a time where there would be no undead awake. He guessed it would be at lunch, and on this he banked it all. Even if there still was a guard, he had to guess that it would not be the two human mountains that did Charlotte's bidding; because there would be no way that they would be asleep when she was up. If that was the case, he figured he could take care of whoever was there, basically by dragging them into the room as he went out and letting them fry as he fled. He would have to improvise from there, but he knew that there could not be that many undead up at that time and any humans would stand no chance against a day walker like him. They had never seen the likes of him, and that day, it would be the last thing they see. He would have to act in this way lest the close the door before he bolted. He decided on lunch the next day, just to throw off suspicion. He went over to the worktable and lifted the stainless steel dome which sat over his breakfast. He lifted the lid and found a piping hot western omelet, hash browns, a tall glass of orange juice, and a carafe of coffee complete with sugar and cream should he so choose to partake. He didn't own a TV, and he was not much of a TV watcher, but he figured that he could at least catch the news.

 

As he sat and watched, they came to the financial reports, and he began to think. There was no way they could own the whole building. However, if they had enough money sunk into the thing, and had enough connections, then Draco could have well seemed a trusted businessman to the public to where his wiring of the whole building to his purposes—even remodeling many floors—would not be questioned. There were 54 stories to work with, so a handful could be spared. All he had to do was get to the civilian floors and cause confusion. He knew well that the guards of the building in general would have been supplied by Draco, so he knew he had better have his scarf up. However, he did have to get that saber back, and he figured that it had to be in Draco's office, so he began to make plans for that. As he watched, the local news came up, and in the last sequence came the local interest story. The anchorwoman then said, “And to finish up this hour's news, a possible tragedy has struck Abraham Lincoln High School in Cony.”

The scene cut to the school with a reporter in front of it who said, “It came as a shock to the students as well-respected physical education teacher, Jean-Claude Makka, was reported missing last night by his wife, Yuriya.”

Jean-Claude stopped mid-bite when he heard this. “Missing,” he thought, “I didn't think they would go this far!”

The report continued as they cut away to a shot outside Clan Tower with reporters talking to a teary-eyed Yuriya as she spoke, “We couldn't believe it! We heard about things like this happening, but I never thought it would! He went for a stroll in the park yesterday afternoon, and that's the last we saw of him. Oh, God, I…”

She could not go on as she began to cry harder, and the twins consoled her. Jean-Claude, on the other hand, thought, “It won't win an Oscar, but she's putting on a good show.”

The report continued, “Apparently, just before sunset, Jean-Claude Makka grabbed his favorite cup of brew from his wife, kissed his family good-bye as he went for his walk, and never returned. The police have no witnesses, but they are looking.”

The view then switched to the precinct commander, who then said, “New York City is a big place, as we know, but it becomes much bigger when you have to search for one man. However, we have no signs of a struggle, no mugging, nothing to indicate he was taken. On the other hand, we have seen stranger things. We have every precinct on the lookout as we have our department scouring the area for clues. Everything that can be done is being done.”

The report then switched to the assistant coach of the baseball team, as he said, “We called the players together before class this morning to tell them what had happened. They were just as stunned as we were about the whole thing, but we assured them that not all hope was lost, and that everything to find him was being done. We have a playoff game tonight, and I asked the boys if they wanted to have the game postponed. Not a one of them said they wanted that. They said that coach would never tolerate quitting, and he would expect us to play on. So, we're dedicating the game to him tonight.”

The scene went back outside to the front of the school as the reporter continued, saying, “And so, the whole school waits with baited breath. They plan to go on, as he would want them to.”

It went back to the anchorwoman, who said, “We will have live coverage of that baseball game tonight at the request of the school, and their opponent's coach, who happens to be a good friend. He says, `Jean-Claude, wherever you are, we hope you can watch this game, for this is for you.'”

“Oh, I will,” he said, out loud, “Don't worry guys. It's going to be okay.”

With that, he finished his breakfast as if nothing was wrong with the world.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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