Ranma 1/2 Fan Fiction ❯ Phoenix ❯ Chapter 7 ( Chapter 8 )

See Chapter 1 for Disclaimer

With the onset of March, and spring's fast approach, Ranma decided to surprise her husband one morning at breakfast. She'd spent most of last month fighting morning sickness, so in a way it was time to come clean. It was a maintenance down day, which meant that both squadrons were grounded so that their respective maintenance squadrons could catch up on much needed work on the fighters. It also meant that recently promoted Captain Marx was planning on enjoying a leisurely day at home, catching up on his reading. "Chris," she said, looking over the breakfast table at him, "there's something you should know."

"Hmm," he replied. "Is Virgil still bothering you? I thought the base commander shipped him back to the States."

"No, no. Nothing like that at all. In fact school's been kind of boring since Virgil left. What I have to say is a little closer to the two of us." Marx's eyebrow shot up with that. The grandfather clock in the living room, a gift from Marx's parents, rang out eight o'clock. The joy on Ranma's face turned sour. "Kuso, I'm going to be late." She kissed her husband. "I'll tell you later, anata," she said as she ran out the door.
------

Sitting in his office, Marx was busy catching up on security paperwork, including a new inventory of the classified materials for the change of command inspection that was coming up. Glenn Miller and the Andrews Sisters filled the house, keeping the middle-aged captain calm as he went about his paperwork. Of course, he'd spent his first six months with the previous custodian, maintaining the files the "wrong" way, and then the last six months correcting two years of carelessness. So it was no surprise that he finally heard the phone ringing on the twentieth ring. "Captain Marx, how may I help you?"

"Captain, this is Major Rodriguez. The wing commander would like to see you, immediately."

"Understood, sir." Marx hung up and closed his files, jotting a quick note to his wife, telling her where he'd be.

After an exceedingly long and grueling inquisition in the wing commander's office about "The Incident", Marx returned to the home he shared with his young wife. Three months later, and the accidental downing of an American and Russian fighter are suddenly issues. He'd spent all day there, so by the time he was walking up the walk, the sun was already below the horizon, the last rays of light reflecting off the clouds. He noticed the lights in the house were off, the mail still sitting in the mailbox. He grabbed the mail, opened the door and walked in. "Taidama," he shouted, but there was no response. Setting the mail on the side table in the hall, Marx quickly walked through the house, searching. Yet his young wife wasn't there. The message on the answering machine was from the school, wondering why Ranma wasn't in. That piqued his interest.

Making a few calls of his own, Marx was able to determine that his wife was nowhere on base-that quite possibly their worst nightmare came true. Her father had abducted Ranma again. Sitting at his desk, Marx picked up the phone. He was dreading this call-one that had the same significance as though he had to contact the next of kin. "35th Security Forces, Staff Sergeant Alvarado. How may I help you sir/ma'am?"

"Sergeant Alvarado, this is Captain Marx. I'd like to report a missing person."

"Standby, sir." There was the rustling of papers, as the staff sergeant on the end of the phone grabbed the appropriate forms. "Go ahead, sir." Marx gave the pertinent information about his wife, particularly identifying marks. The scars of the Neko-ken training were fairly obvious, as would be her fiery red hair. "Time last seen?"

"Eight this morning, just before she left for school."

"Thank you, sir. We'll get this disseminated throughout the base and to the local authorities. It's possible that someone may have seen her and her abductor."

"Thank you Sergeant." Marx sat the handset back in its cradle, and sat at his desk, in the dark.

------
A few hours earlier

Ranma was quickly running through the residential areas of the base to the high school. She'd left the house late, not figuring that trying to tell her husband her good news would take so long, and decided that roof hopping wouldn't be the healthiest thing for the baby. So she was running, her long hair streaming behind her like a banner.

That is until she ran into a gi-clad brick wall. Backing up, Ranma's face paled when she saw who it was that was standing there.

Genma looked down at his daughter. "So, where are you off to? Going to shack up with your weak amerikajin?" He snarled. All his hard work and training to unite the two Schools of Anything Goes and make his son the best fighter of all time ruined because Ranma had to fall in the only permanent cursed spring that isn't fatal.

Ranma glared at her father, a fire in her eyes. "Weak?" She repeated. "I'll have you know that my husband is a warrior of the highest regard." She settled into what had become her customary stance when she sparred with JASDF's unarmed combat instructors. He's already starting with the verbal attacks. I've got to concentrate and ignore what he's saying. She just managed to duck under a snap kick to her head and swept her father's legs out from under him. "I guess you haven't run into Mom. I'm no longer a Saotome; she kicked me out of the Clan because you got me cursed and I wasn't a 'man amongst men', Oyaji!"

Startled by the truth, Genma hit the ground hard, but years of training-particularly under the Dread Master-allowed him to not only recover, but also connect with a particularly savage counter kick. The hit to Ranma should have been fatal, would have been fatal, had it not been for her training with the Amazons. The kick still managed to throw her back, slamming her head against the curb, knocking the redheaded martial artist out and spider webbing the concrete curb.

The bald martial artist quickly bound his daughter, then leapt over the fence, running as fast as he could to get away from the base and to any available transport to Tokyo.

* * *

Ranma awoke to an unfamiliar sensation-a gentle rocking back and forth, coupled with the mild vibration of a three cylinder steam engine banging away belowdecks. She looked around the darkened room, the only illumination coming from the full moon streaming in through the porthole. She tried to move, but found her limbs bound by ropes. "Kuso, the old fool really doesn't want me to escape," she muttered. "Shibari knots and stuck on a ship. I'm definitely not getting out of here until we dock."

Her father walked into the cabin, a half-eaten chicken leg in his hand. "So, you're finally awake. Did Sleeping Beauty enjoy her nap?" He sneered, taking a bite from the leg.

"Damnit Pops, you've gone too far this time. Chris'll have every cop in Japan looking for me. And why the hell are you doing this? Didn't the fact that I'm not in the Clan anymore get through your thick skull?"

"Why's that? He some sort of multimillionaire who plays at being a fighter pilot?" Genma glared at his former son. "You are still the heir to Anything Goes. And I am still you sensei. What I say, goes. And you are coming to Tokyo with me."

"Why won't you get it through your thick skull. I'm not a Saotome anymore!" Ranma all but screamed to her father. She placed her head back on the bunk once more in frustration. Her father wasn't going to listen to her, no matter what she said or did. Genma was stuck in his own little fantasy world, and no amount of reality was going to penetrate that fantasy world.

Her sometimes panda of a father grinned evilly at his redheaded daughter before he left the cabin. "By the time we reach Tokyo, I'll have you sufficiently broken," as he closed and locked the door.

Tears came unbidden at the corner of her eyes, as Ranma had an inkling of what was possibly meant by her father.

------

Marx sat listening to the mission briefing halfheartedly. The past three days since his wife's abduction had been sheer hell on the fighter pilot. He'd lost his appetite, partially eating his meals; his reaction times in the cockpit were down; and his commander and element leader were beginning to worry about the mental health of the middle-aged captain. Major Wegner looked at his notes as he finished up the operational side of the briefing. One of the things he'd asked the cops was to be kept abreast of the search for Ranma. And that included briefings from various Japanese police agencies. "Okay, some news on the search for Mrs. Marx. Misawa harbor police has a report from a longshoreman about someone fitting her description being carried aboard an old Liberty ship, now called the Kobayashi Maru. The ship sailed from Misawa before the police could get aboard, but the MSDF destroyer Kongo reported the ship sailing south at five knots." Fuzz looked at the briefing notes he'd received. The National Police were planning on staging a rescue mission while the Liberty Ship was at sea, requesting the use of the 353rd Special Operations Squadron out of Kadena through US Forces, Japan, unless the request was unsuccessful, then Maritime or Air SDF units would be used. "At this time," Wegner started, hating the lie he was about to say, "the National Police are planning on a rescue mission utilizing Maritime or Air Self Defense Force assets.

"And as per the Colonel, we are not making this a joint operation, even though it would help to repair US/Japanese relations, given the number of incidents that have occurred on Okinawa. And Captain Marx, that means no volunteering for this assignment as a liaison. Understood?"

Marx nodded. "Yes sir. But…"

"No 'Buts', Captain. If this mission goes as planned, then you won't have to worry about your wife. And we won't have to worry about you."

"Understood sir." Marx wasn't happy with it, but had to go along with his superior's orders.

"If there's nothing else, ladies and gentlemen, then we have a training mission to fly." Maj. Wegner closed his folder. "Marx, can I speak with you for a moment?"

Telling his wingman to go on ahead, Marx held up. "What's up, sir?"

Wegner sat on the edge of the desk. "Captain, I know this has been an extremely trying time for you, but I wanted to let you know that as soon as we find anything out about the mission, you'll be the first to know.

"This whole damn kidnapping has been an embarrassment for both the US and Japan. It doesn't look good to the media of both nations that a Japanese national, married to an American serviceman, is kidnapped from a joint-services installation and the authorities have damn near nothing to go on.

"There's very little we can do at this point, except hope that the police can handle it from their side. And that means no playing cowboy. Understood?" Marx nodded. "Good. Maybe this news can help pull you out of your downward slide."

------

Ranma was lying on the bunk in the cabin, not that she had much choice in her current situation. Her father still hadn't released the Shibari knots, and probably wouldn't until they reached their destination. Throughout the voyage, her father had hinted that she'd become compliant, but the crew never took the panda up on his offers to use his daughter. They didn't like the way that the redhead had been brought aboard, even though their captain had a no questions asked policy.

Her arms and legs had gone numb after the first couple of hours from being bound in such contorted positions. Her body was beginning to suffer from dehydration and lack of vitamins and minerals; a depletion that was being caused by her pregnancy as well as a lack of real food. Her father felt that rice and water would toughen his daughter back up, despite her protests about her pregnancy. "If Oyaji did so much as harm my child, I'm going to kill him," was her steady comment the three days they were at sea.

It was a dark night when the redheaded martial artist woke up again. Because of her bonds and lack of proper nutrition, she hadn't been sleeping right. Of course the possible concussion she's had for the past three days might have had something to do with it. The moon, visible for the past two nights, was covered by the leading edge of a storm system coming in from China. The rhythmic motion of the ship started to rock the young wife back to sleep, but there was something else in the background that woke her up-a distinct, heavy thump of rotors coming closer then stationary over the ship. The door to her cabin burst in, and three men clad in black flightsuits rushed in.

"Marx-san," one of the black-clad men asked, as a second slit the bonds holding her and the third kept an eye on the passageway, "can you walk?" She shook her head as she tried to work the blood back into her tortured limbs. The masked man turned to his comrades. "We'll have to carry her out," he said in English. The one who cut her bonds nodded and swept the redhead into a fireman's carry and out the cabin.

On deck, Genma sat on the deck, his hands bound. Ranma gave her father an annoyingly cute smile. "I told you my husband would move heaven and earth to get me back."

Her father looked at her. "Ranma, my boy, you are going to bail your father out, right?"

As she was placed in the Stokes basket to be lifted up to the hovering Pave Low, Ranma snorted. "First of all, Pops, I'm not your son. You saw to that when you took us to Jusenkyo. Secondly, why should I bail you out when this is your mess? You never learned something known as restraint. And lastly, you're only my father by genetics. Mom kicked me out of the Clan; I'm no longer bound by any deals that you cut. Learn from your mistakes, Oyaji. And I hope nothing you did hurt my unborn child. If it did, I'll file murder charges against you so quickly, that your eyes will swim." She looked at the pararescue jumpers around the litter. "I'd like to go home, now."

------

Bleary eyed, Marx reached for the phone. "Captain Marx," he mumbled into the receiver.

"Captain Marx, this is Sgt. Kelley, Operations. We have some good news for you. National Police and JASDF operatives successfully retrieved your wife this morning at 0230 hours, local."

That information fully woke up the middle aged pilot. "Where is she?"

"She's currently at the clinic on Atsugi Air Facility, although the recovery team did not state her exact condition."

"Thank you Sergeant." Marx hung up the phone and placed his head back on the pillow. Sleep was far from coming for Ranma's husband for this night.

------
Branch Medical Clinic, NAF Atsugi

With two sets of monitors beeping incessantly and an IV pump whirring, Ranma slept fitfully. The IVs were necessary because of the dehydration she suffered at the hands of her father; the fetal monitor because of her still unborn child, the adult monitor to make sure that there were no lasting effects of her captivity. At least physically. The base social worker was impressed with her mental recovery. "How's she doing," Marx asked the nurse quietly from the door. Her husband was still clad in his flightsuit from the flight down from Misawa.

"She's a very resilient young woman, Captain. The IVs are just a precaution to keep her fluids up, and the concussion hasn't stopped her. We did an ultrasound when she arrived, as well as the fetal monitoring. As far we can tell, your child is doing fine as well. Just as resilient as her mother."

Marx walked into the room, and sat down next to his wife. Running his hand through his wife's fiery locks, he quietly spoke in Japanese. "Why didn't you tell me you were pregnant? Why didn't you let me drive you to school?"

Ranma reached up and held on to her husband's arm. Replying in the same language, she told him. "I wanted to surprise you, anata." She opened her liquid blue eyes, catching her husband's hazel and held them. "Some surprise, eh?"

Marx patted her arm. "It was," he chuckled sardonically. "Let's not have it happen again, ok?"

"I doubt it will. Genma is probably going to a zoo as part of a panda breeding program." The redhead looked at her husband. "Chris," she asked, "should I make amends with my mother?"

Marx looked at his wife, his hand clasping hers. "That is your call, aisuru. But what ever your decision is, I'll stand by it and support it, one hundred percent. Thanks to your mother's rash actions last year, you are legally an adult. And being a mother might help in that decision."