Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ Coming Home ❯ 99 ( Chapter 99 )

99

 

Paris' arrow landed true

 

“You are fucking shitting me!” I growled, hand falling to my gun as I glared at Brad. “You're not answering that, are you?”

 

::Schuldig, with me,:: Brad ordered crisply as he strode toward the phone.

 

::Be ready,:: I told Far and Nagi, then followed our leader in mind. I settled my awareness next to his, trusting the other two to watch our backs.

 

Brad paused, hand just above the receiver. ::One more ring…::

 

It rang again.

 

Brad picked up. “Hallo?”

 

There was a brief pause, then an electronically distorted voice said, “I was hoping to find you well.”

 

Mild surprise rippled through the psi-link and I felt myself frown. Brad kept his voice even as he replied, “To what purpose?”

 

“There is a bag in the alley across from your position. You can pay a local to open it for you if you distrust it, but I assure you it is not a trap. I have been looking for you for some time now, to offer you an alliance.”

 

Something about that voice bothered Brad, and me. Brad was trying to analyze it through the distortion, to pull a normal tone from it, to no avail. “Why do you think I need an alliance?”

 

“Because I pay attention to the news, Crawford-san.” With that, the line went dead.

 

::Schuldig.::

 

::Yes?:: I could feel him debating his choices, selecting the next move with care.

 

Brad studied the phone as if he were a tourist trying to puzzle out the paying options. ::Dispatch Farfarello to find that bag and check it out. Send Nagi to me to have a look at this phone.::

 

I kept the link with Brad open as I reached out to the other two. ::Nagi, Brad needs you to check the phone. Make sure it wasn't rigged at this end, maybe reverse the number if you can manage it.::

 

Nagi sighed. ::Without a computer there's not much I can do…:: He shook his head and made his way toward the pay phone.

 

With him out of the way, I dealt with the harder assignment. If this was some kind of trap, I might be sending my best friend on a suicide run. Careful to keep that thought from coloring my mind, I narrowed my focus so that Nagi wouldn't pick it up. ::Far, there's some kind of bag in that alley. Be careful, but check it out. Brad thinks this might be on the level and if it is, it's important.::

 

Farfarello nodded and turned to lose himself in the pedestrian traffic. He gave no indication whether he trusted this or not; silent as a ghost, he headed across to the alley.

 

Suddenly alone except for the team link, I tried to watch the three of them at the same time without sharing my concern with any of them. Not easy, especially with a strain headache tapping at my eyeballs from the wrong side.

 

Moments ticked by, during which time no Esset agents appeared to drag us away and nothing blew up. This didn't ease my worry very much.

 

Distantly I picked up on Brad and Nagi's conversation. ::…came from a relay of some kind, I can't track it back. But this phone is normal; the call came in, like any other, except for the fact that it wiped its footprints as it went.::

 

Who other than Esset would have done that, could have done that? “Crawford-san” - who the hell…?

 

::It's a duffel bag,:: Farfarello stated. ::Nothing hostile, unless there's a hidden tracker.:: His mental voice sounded almost amused.

 

::What's in it?:: I asked at about the same time Brad picked up on us through the team link.

 

::Supplies.::

 

::Gentlemen,:: Brad stated coolly, ::back to the car. I don't like being in the open right now.::

 

As casually as we could manage it, we began backtracking the way we'd come, with Farfarello now carrying a good-sized olive-drab duffel across his back. Brad reasserted his shields with a last admonition for me to take care of the headache before it took care of me; I could tell by his stride that he was increasingly alert rather than relieved in the slightest by these events. I only hoped this meant his repeating vision would leave him alone now.

 

On reaching the car, Brad instructed Farfarello to open the trunk and set the bag inside, out of easy line-of-sight of any passersby. Only then did Brad say, “All right, show me what you found. Nagi, be sharp.”

 

Nagi was already shaky from his check of that phone, but he nodded and concentrated on the bag. “There are electronics, Crawford. But I don't feel a signal. I don't think it's bugged.”

 

Far unzipped the bag and dug around inside. He picked up something and tossed it to me - a pack of cigarettes. “It's one of your old brands,” he said mildly. “There's even some matches - waterproof. There's clothes here, in different sizes. Don't know if they'll fit, but I have a weird feeling they might, Crawford. Socks, underwear… There's bandages, too, and suture thread and needles. This is a field medical kit,” he murmured, holding up a small bundle that seemed held together by zippers and snaps. “Had a look earlier, there's scissors and clamps and the sutures are in there. Dental floss, toothbrushes, basic first aid stuff.”

 

“It's like the camping trip from hell,” I muttered, thinking back to some of our less civilized stop-overs.

 

“It's things a team on the run might need,” Brad mused aloud.

 

“They know it's us,” Nagi whispered. “Your cigarettes, Schuldig.”

 

My hackles stood on end. “He did say he'd been looking for us, for an alliance.”

 

“One of his more brilliant ideas,” Brad murmured, taking a pair of jeans out of the bag, “and that's saying something…”

 

Farfarello looked narrowly at our leader. “To find, but not to use?”

 

“What the hell are you two talking about?” I asked, now thoroughly unnerved.

 

Instead of answering, Brad reached into the right front pocket of the jeans and took out something that looked like a candybar-style cell phone and several folded pieces of paper. He blinked, handed the phone to Nagi, then unfolded the paper - which turned out to be half a dozen Turkish banknotes and a scrap of unlined stationery bearing crisp, neat katakana. Brad's eyes had that look they got whenever he watched one of his visions play out in real time. “Canakkale.” Looking up, he met my worried gaze with a look of mild wonder. “Directions and a date, two days from now.”

 

“We can't go there,” I hissed. “Brad, this can't be right.”

 

An odd smile curved his lips, and he pushed his glasses up with a confident hand. “Think, Schuldig. How many Esset agents spoke Japanese well enough to bother with formalities?”

 

“That doesn't mean anything!” I growled. “Remember Poland! They learn, Brad. They learn! And if we don't, we're dead.”

 

“Calm down, Schuldig, and listen to me.” He looked toward Far and Nagi, bringing them into the discussion. “I know the voice now, and I understand the message.”

 

“Which message, `I pay attention to the news' or that bit about an alliance?” I countered, wanting answers before I trusted the team to whatever Brad had in mind.

 

“The message in my vision.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

99

Paris' arrow landed true

 

“Citadel” - The Crüxshadows Ethernaut

 

Remember this song reference from chapter 66, the one with Brad's overpowering vision? Canakkale is the nearest major city to the ancient site of Troy; something important is on the horizon with the storms. The ride is far from over…

 

Points for whoever deciphers why, precisely, I picked this particular lyric for this chapter.

 

Oh, and, bonus points for making sense of the literary reference in this chapter, too.

 

It's sort of like wandering through one of Brad's more annoying visions: hints and shadows of meaning on a key with no map.