Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ Coming Home ❯ 100 ( Chapter 100 )

100

This Troy, she will not fall

 

In the back seat, Nagi shifted carefully, trying not to disturb the contents of the medical kit on his lap as he traded the hemostat for the wide-end tweezers. With steady hands he wielded the tweezers like a miniature screwdriver, removing the tiny screws from the phone casing to have a look inside. I could feel his psi-awareness unspool to delicately survey the item from within its circuitry. “Crawford, this isn't a phone,” Nagi murmured. “It's some kind of receiver with an alarm function.”

“Have you ruled out a tracking signal?” Brad asked as he swung the car into the slow stream of traffic heading out of Ankara.

“Absolutely,” Nagi said with conviction. “There isn't any kind of transmitter at all.” He studied the guts of the device, occasionally trading out one impromtu tool for another.

“Funny how this medical kit could work for gadgets as well as people,” Farfarello observed.

“Yeah,” I murmured, “funny. Look, I still don't trust this.”

Brad glanced over and asked, “Do you trust me?”

I sighed and gave him a defeated wave. “Yeah, you I trust.”

A strong hand landed on my thigh and squeezed gently. “This isn't Poland, Schuldig. I'm awake now. Possibly more so than I've been in a long time. The pieces are moving…finally.”

I gave up trying to fathom his optimism and turned my thoughts to Nagi. The kid could reverse-engineer damn near anything electronic, and someone had just sent him a toy and all the tools he'd need to tear it apart.

Someone who knew what the kid was capable of?

I watched the road as we made our unhurried way westward. Brad had decided to circle around Canakkale and approach it from the north, giving us a better chance at a straight shot back into the mainland should anything go wrong. I finished off another bottle of water and leaned back for a nap. The team would need me rested and headache-free, and damned if I was going to fuck that up.

Of course, dozing while my mind was determined to play out every possible contingency wasn't going to be easy. I imagined camouflaged helicopters and Omega-level operatives, then “peace-keeping” troops with tanks, followed by a James Bond-like figure with codewords and a cheesy accent. Grumbling to myself, I fidgeted and tried to get more comfortable. If I was going to half-dream some twisted plot, I may as well enjoy the show.

Farfarello's quiet voice broke through my mental haze. “Do you think he picked the site at random, Crawford?”

“You mean, did he choose it for its historical relevance, as some sort of message? Unlikely,” Brad replied thoughtfully, “though not impossible.”

“And if he did?” I muttered.

“Battlefields are never free from pain,” Farfarello whispered, “no matter how much time has passed.”

Brad said nothing.

The hours seemed to crawl by as we approached our destination. I kept a passive watchfulness, scanning the area for any sign of psi-operatives or other undesirables. Finding none did very little for my nerves.

Brad found us a good spot to wait and watch from; we'd likely be living in the car until the situation resolved itself in another day and a half.

“I wish I knew what the fuck we're looking for,” I growled, staring at the pack of cigarettes from our mysterious benefactor. I knew better than to light up, for several reasons. Until we found out what the hell was going on, I didn't dare trust the damn things. Besides, they'd only make me cough.

I told myself I just didn't want to listen to Nagi bitch.

I concentrated on keeping our vehicle beneath people's notice, deflecting the locals and tourists easily enough without tiring myself. It always amazed me how much easier it was to suggest to the mind that it ignore what was right in front of it, rather than believe a wholly fabricated reality. Far had told me it was because it's man's nature to be skeptical and lazy, that people will overlook the obvious more readily than they will ever accept something outside their own beliefs. This, he'd said, was the cause of much suffering, for angels and devils overlook nothing, no matter how outlandish.

As one of the devils, I had to agree with him.

“I wish we could take a look around,” Far murmured, leaning slightly out his window. “What do you say, Crawford? Stay in the car and wait, or stretch our legs in turns? You could make sure a driver's at the wheel at all times, in case we need to bug out in a hurry. Besides, I have to piss.”

Brad frowned slightly, probably looking for a hint of warning from the coming hours. He considered for several moments before nodding. “All right. Schuldig, why don't you go with him?”

“Are you sure? I'm keeping us under wraps pretty well,” I told him, not happy with the idea of dropping my invisibility project.

“I…don't think there's any need, to be honest,” Brad stated. “They're not here. They're not even looking here. Not now.”

“How can you be sure?” I asked, needing more than just his say-so.

“I've Seen this, Schuldig.” Brad removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes before setting the glasses back in place with a confident hand. “You know what, let's all take a walk. We could use a decent meal. Farfarello, bring the duffel bag. And Nagi, bring that gadget.”

We disembarked and headed toward a nearby café, with Far on the lookout for a public bathroom and Nagi almost clinging to my shadow. The whole situation had us on edge, but we couldn't argue with Brad - not yet, anyway. If things went wrong…

If things went wrong, I was ready to put a bullet in Brad's head and lead the rest of the team the hell out of there.




A/N:

This Troy, she will not fall
“Citadel” - The Crüxshadows Ethernaut

Throughout this story, Farfarello has often served as a sort of Greek chorus, casting his canny observations from the outside. Here, he's all too intrigued by the prospect of exploring Troy - both the historical city and the hidden impetus for Brad Crawford's suicidal rebellion against Esset.

I wonder how much of it he'll manage to piece together, and whether he'll ever share his insights with Schuldig. Even I don't know the answer to that.