Witch Hunter Robin Fan Fiction ❯ Falling ❯ Beginnings ( Chapter 1 )

Peaceful and quiet. These words could be used to describe any small town in the American Midwest. Salina, Kansas was one such town that these words seemed to describe. Sitting just west of Kansas City, the town of several thousand people seemed innocent and simple enough. Farmers lived around the area of the town, growing wheat and corn in the spring sunlight. The downtown was a typical American small town, with a few two-story buildings built around the turn of the century marking the center of business for an area of generations of farmers. Surrounding these like ripples from a wave were the sleepy homes of normal people living normal lives. Few in the town were aware of the secrets that stood in plain sight right in the middle of the downtown.

 

Chief of these secrets was located within a small two-story building situated just off the crossroads that marked the heart of the town. The outside of the building looked like any of the aged redbrick buildings in any small town across America. On the side of the building was a modern-looking sign that read “Solomon Electronics”. Within the building, visible through the windows, were computer terminals and people constantly at work on them just like a normal electronics company. The company's website indicated to visitors that the company's primary purpose was “development and testing of software for a variety of purposes including commercial and civil”. Many of the local residents had engaged in conversation with some of the employees and found whatever questions they had about the company satisfactorily answered. No one in town was even aware that a secret existed under their very noses.

 

Only the employees of “Solomon Electronics” knew the truth behind the secrets. These six employees, of all different ages, were really the members of STN-A's Regional Field Office 7. STN-A, the American branch of the Solomon Witch Hunting Organization, was spread throughout the country into twelve individual field offices to cover the entire massive country. Regional Field Office 7 (RFO-7) was one of the more unique offices in the American agency. Its clandestine purpose, unknown to much of Solomon, was to undertake assignments that would be considered too risky for regular STN stations to undertake. Because of the special nature of RFO-7, the branch office had access to many of the American government's intelligence networks as well as to most of Solomon's internal networks. Though they were small, the team of six was the Solomon equivalent of a SWAT team and used as such when needed.

 

So it was, on a spring day in late April, that the members of RFO-7 came in to work as usual. Waiting for them was the team's leader, Julia Charles. Julia was a tall woman with hazel eyes and short brown hair. Soft-spoken and quiet, her prowess on the hunt made her renowned in STN as a top-notch hunter and the top brass figured that she would also be a good station manager on top of her hunter duties. She was unique from other managers in this respect, but still showed much of the talent and intuitiveness that had spurred her earlier successes.

 

Once all the team had assembled, Julia cleared her throat. “Good morning, everyone. It's a nice day outside, but we have a lot to get done. We have received word from STN-HQ that Solomon has completed their investigation into STN-J and Factory.” This had been an ongoing affair for some time, ever since members of Solomon had launched a raid directly on Factory following the “silence” of STN-J after a Solomon raid on the building. At the time, Solomon had been a hairsbreadth away from sending in RFO-7 to neutralize Factory, but an infiltration by members of the local STN had resulted in a satisfactory resolution that did not require the intervention of the American team. Though several months had now passed since the events of the incident, it was still being investigated in a very careful manner by Solomon as a whole. The members of STN-A, on a national level, had kept a close watch on this situation for a number of reasons. Chief among these was that ex-Director Zaizen's theology of an “all-human hunt” would spread and threaten the Americans, who employed Craft-users on a wider scale than most STNs.

 

“What's the word?” A semi-nasally voice asked from across the table. Seated in his traditional place across and to the right of Julia was one of the team's two computer whizzes, Ben Stoddard. Dressed in a polo shirt and khakis, Ben looked the part of the typical computer geek complete with glasses and parted brown hair.

 

Julia checked her notes, a necessity given her dual role. “The conclusion of Solomon's investigation team was that Director Zaizen was responsible for Factory's involvement in STN-J affairs, and was involved in the attempted murders of STN-J's members. Furthermore, Factory was responsible for the death of at least one of Solomon's top hunters. An investigation into the assault team's report confirmed that Zaizen died at the Factory plant, but could not confirm the deaths of two of STN-J's former agents who helped organize and lead the raid.”

 

“Amon and Robin Sena, right?”

 

“That's right. According to Solomon, Father Juliano Colegui gave a direct Hunt order to Amon, who was acting as Solomon's other agent in this matter, coordinating with Yurika Dojima. Witness testimony placed Robin and Amon at the scene, leading STN-J's `rescue' mission, but no one is sure of what happened when the building collapsed. There are rumors from the global Solomon net that the two may still be alive, but so far no confirmed sightings and the organization is not seeking further action against them at this time.”

 

“Why do I get the feeling that there's something more to this than a simple `case closed?” This question came from a young college-age woman sitting next to Ben. Wearing a black t-shirt, skirt, and fishnet stockings to accentuate the black eyeliner and shadow, the team's computer whiz, Anne James, leaned back in her chair. A laptop sat before her, open and turned on, and she had been typing notes as the meeting progressed. “We wouldn't be hearing the details of this case if Solomon hadn't asked us to become involved in some way.”

 

It was not often that Julia was caught off guard, but Anne was the person who could do it with regular frequency if she tried. Julia hurriedly looked over her notes, a touch of annoyance in her voice as she caught up with the point behind the news. “We received a request from Solomon to send a team over and perform an independent evaluation. Even though STN-J has been reinstated and the rest of their staff has returned to work, Solomon wants verification that there is nothing further that they may have missed.”

 

“And the two who are missing?”

 

“We have no official orders in regards to that situation at this time. As far as I am aware, Solomon rescinded the Hunt Order on the grounds that there was sufficient probability that the two are dead.”

 

The team was silent for a few moments as the members gathered their thoughts. Investigations fell within their purview, but this was the first time in many years that they were being called in to perform one. Anne voiced the obvious question after a few moments. “Who's going over?”

 

“We still have several ongoing matters that need to be resolved, so I'll only be sending a two-man team. I want you, Anne, to take the lead on this one. You've got the most proficiency with computers, so I trust that you will be able to work with their computer guru to make sure their network is up to par and to review their files. John, I want you to go with her. You and your brother have good knowledge of the area, the people, and the culture.” Julia's eyes met the emerald-green eyes of John Gordon. One of the shortest members of the team, John and his twin brother Sam listened attentively, taking their own notes on legal pads.

 

“It's been a few years since I went over there, but it'll be good to be back again,”

 

“I can bet,” Julia nodded and smiled before resuming her serious manner. “You're booked on the morning flight out of Kansas City in two days. I'll have your tickets for you later today after the agency clears them.”

 

The pair exchanged a glance and nodded, their professionalism evident despite the fact that they normally were not partnered up in the daily business of the station. Anne was typically placed in a support role for most missions because of her talent and proficiency with computers -- as well as her other abilities. She welcomed a challenge, though, and this promised to be as good a challenge as any that she had undertaken. Besides, she thought to herself as she updated her online “blog” journal, discussing events in the world and in her own life, it had been awhile since she'd gotten to see how her counterpart in another country did the job.

 

“Turning to the next item on the agenda…” Julia's words broke the silent reverie and focused everyone again on the business of the day. Outside, the world proceeded about its business as it always did. Inside, the team proceeded with its business as it always did.

 

While it was day in Kansas, halfway across the world night reigned in Japan. The building that housed STN-J was dark, save for one light that shone from the top floor like a beacon. In the team's workroom, Michael, the team's hacker, worked tirelessly at his computer console. Fingers flying over keyboards, Michael expertly debugged code, hacked systems, and kept the information flow of STN-J alive and well in a tireless display of dexterity and multi-tasking. Ignoring the time of night, Michael was used to being up late and averaged only a few hours of sleep per night. If nothing unexpected came up, he would retire around 2 AM and be back on his feet before the arrival of the team at 8 AM. He hated to admit it, but the building was his home even though he had since been freed from the cage and collar that Zaizen had imposed on him when he had been caught so many years ago. Tapping his toes to the tunes of a nameless American rock group, Michael's eyes had been flipping from one screen to another as code compiled until a bit of data attracted his attention.

 

Following the debacle with Zaizen and Factory, STN-J had been quick to restore their connections with Solomon. Things under the new Director were better now than they had been, and Michael was happy to see that relations with Solomon seemed to be improving. This was evident through the sharing of data between the two groups—something that had not happened much during Zaizen's tenure as Director. Compiling code on one monitor, Michael had been using a second monitor to keep track of the data flow from Solomon's network, when one of his special search tools highlighted something of interest. Expertly he coaxed the information out of the computer, performing a virtual ballet that would have impressed even the most seasoned crackers and hackers.

 

The data obediently displayed itself on his screen. His eyes widened for a moment in shock and surprise. STN-A is sending a team of hunters here? A moment later, though, his concerns subsided as he looked further into the matter. No... at least not to hunt. Apparently Solomon is sending in an inspection team to look over the Factory incident. I wonder why…

 

Even more curious following this enigmatic bit of data, Michael dove back into the sea of the virtual world, seeking all he could find on this matter. Only bits and pieces of data existed, and Michael could find nothing more conclusive regarding the matter. After the better part of two hours, he called the search off, too tired to look for more information. The reasons for the Americans' visit, be they true or hidden, had to be good. It was not often that the Americans were stirred into action overseas; their country was vast and most of their resources went towards keeping the witch population in their own country manageable and preventing any panic. Salem would be forever emblazoned on the minds of the Americans working for Solomon as an example of what a populace could do if stirred and whipped up into panic. The Americans did not want another repeat of that incident.

 

A voice in Michael's head wondered if this was related to Robin. It was true that Solomon had “officially” called off the hunt against her, but there was no way to be sure that something wasn't lurking behind the scenes like a snake, waiting for its prey to fall into it's clutches. Although his intuition suggested that it wasn't related to her, Michael preferred being cautious. If it turned out to pertain to Robin then… he stopped himself, preferring not to dwell on the matter just yet, and not especially when he was tired. He knew that there would be more to know tomorrow, but for now his body demanded sleep of him.

 

Looking at his watch, Michael decided that 3 AM was reasonably early, and he would still have enough time in the morning to get the daily briefs ready for the team. Standing and stretching his arms, the lanky hacker crossed the threshold from the work room to a smaller adjacent room. This was his bedroom of sorts, where he slept (when he slept). Turning out the light as he went, his mind turned the data over and over again. He wondered if he'd missed something along the way. There was a nagging feeling—a feeling that something was not quite right—but Michael dismissed it as he lay back in the cot and closed his eyes, welcoming sleep.

 

Not very far away, a computer monitor was displaying the same data that Michael had read and pondered over. A pair of dark eyes moved over the data, taking in its import, before it was erased from the screen. Turning away from the computer, the unknown reader's mind was likely doing the same as Michael; turning the data over and looking for anything missed. Unlike the expert STN-J computer programmer, though, there was no nagging sensation of something missed—it was the sensations of danger and suspicion. It was not hard to be suspicious when life was tenuous. It was even easier to be suspicious when one had good cause to be so. The American team's visit had so many different possibilities that the true reason for their visit was not easily discernable - a cause for true suspicion. Until they revealed what their purpose was, it would all be a matter of speculation and theories. Looking out a window at a skyline lit up by the dull oranges of streetlights and the harsh reds and whites of cars, the stranger knew that there was danger lurking.