Witch Hunter Robin Fan Fiction ❯ Falling ❯ (In)Action ( Chapter 3 )

Bleak desolation

In a beam of sun.

Like an angel, you'll come.

In a dream, blessed one.

And make me joyfully numb.

Delerium - “Duende”

 

Just as people have two or more sides to them, every city in the world has multiple facets to its image. A city may look run down and dirty but, on the other hand, contain a living viable culture within it. Cities may look good on the outside but, when you look closer at the buildings and people, may be trashy and immoral. It was a safe bet that any glamorous city would likely have the exact opposite for an underworld.

 

Tokyo was like every other city in the world. From afar, Tokyo appeared modern and cultured. Business boomed in the economic capital of East Asia, and prosperity was reflected in every high-rise and storefront. People walked these streets, exploring the many diverse facets that made the city so remarkable and popular. But, for the good there was bad as well. Some lesser-known suburbs of the city had decayed and fallen into abandonment. Areas where industry once flourished now floundered as the businesses and factories that had once supported them packed up to look for better tidings. Everyone was aware of the economic near-crash of the late 20th Century and these areas were the residual scars that darkened the visage of Tokyo. It was in these areas that the homeless lived, where shady figures lurked, and whose very image could have been used for a backdrop in any industrially-fading city across the planet.

 

It was in such a location that two figures could be found walking along a deserted sidewalk that led past row after row of abandoned warehouses and factories. They trudged along, both sporting worn out jackets. The shorter of the two figures, a woman from what any bystander could have made out, had one hand to her ear as if she was listening to a Walkman. Anne looked cautiously around at the desolate scenery as Michael provided last-minute instructions from the safety and security of STN-J's headquarters. She and John had spent most of the day with Karasuma and Sakaki, helping double-check their plans and offering both thoughts and ideas of their own. Night had fallen and the only illumination on the sidewalk came from the cones of light provided by the single-file streetlights that dotted their path up the block.

 

“Anne? John? Are you in position?” Anne could make out Michael's voice as clearly as if he was standing right beside them.

 

“We're twenty meters from our destination. No sign of the target yet.” The plan was simple and straightforward, in the time-honored tradition of the acronym “KISS” (Keep It Simple, Stupid). She and John had been given the task of laying an ambush for their target, who would be driven in their direction by Sakaki and Dojima. Karasuma and Hanako would then enter the picture and finish things. How they were going to be finished as an unknown to Anne, who realized that she and John had yet to see anything of the two even though they were supposed to be close by. If they weren't, then the two Americans would have no choice but to break STN-J's streak of humane hunts.

 

A warm breeze blew through Anne's short hair as she and John came to the intersection that had been designated their “destination”. Looking around, she motioned John with a hand to spread out. Without a word he sidestepped to her left, hands at his sides as he surveyed the intersection himself. The two Americans acted as one mind in situations such as this. That was the benefit of receiving SWAT-team style training.

 

Sitting in a car two blocks down the street, Dojima kept a careful watch outside. “What do you think of the Americans?” She asked her partner in the next seat, and then reached down to take a sip from the Styrofoam cup of coffee she'd brought with her.

 

In the other seat Sakaki shifted nervously. He wasn't sure if he wanted to talk about the Americans, not after the way he had seen Karasuma react to John. There was no reason to feel jealous, but Sakaki was feeling jealous all the same and it bothered him. Karasuma and I have a working relationship. Why am I feeling jealous if she shows interest in an American? He asked himself, knowing the answer at once. Is it really that I care for her more than I want to admit?

 

“Oh, they're all the same -- haughty, domineering, and generally clueless.” He folded his arms in a typical Sakaki gesture of thickheaded-ness, but his voice suggested that he was anything but sure of himself. His gaze drifted to his window and he looked out almost forlornly at the empty sidewalks and streets wishing that Dojima had not chosen this particular subject to bring up.

 

“Is that so?” Dojima asked lightly, sensing the change in her partner's attitude. “Miho certainly seemed to get along well with them, particularly John. He does seem very cute.” She giggled in typical Dojima fashion, as any girl her age would have done in the same situation.

 

Sakaki felt his face flush with anger… or was it embarrassment? It was hard for him to tell the difference between the two just now. “I don't know what she could see in him. After all, he's only a gaijin.”

 

“Now, now,” she chided him with a smile. “You sound like you're jealous of him.” She was only half joking, but suspected that she'd just hit the proverbial nail on the head. “Your secret's safe with me. I won't tell Miho.”

If his face continued to flush like this, Sakaki thought he might pass out from the heat. “That… that's not it!” He managed to stammer but was cut short by Dojima.

 

“Oh? If that isn't it, then what is it?”

Before he could say anything more a movement outside caught his eye. Someone was walking down the sidewalk across the street from them. Raising a pair of binoculars to his eyes, it only took him a moment to confirm what the team had been waiting for. Brushing the hair from his ear, he activated his radio. “Michael. Target is in sight, heading west.”

 

“Roger. The Americans are in position.”

 

Turning the key in the ignition, Dojima started the car and pulled away from the curb, past the jacketed figure across the street from them. Turning at the next intersection, Dojima parked the car and shut off the ignition. Nodding silently, Sakaki opened his door silently and slid from the car, reaching into his jacket and withdrawing a pistol. Chambering it with a muted “ka-click”, he checked to make sure it was ready. Satisfied, he returned it to the holster in his jacket which had at one time housed the special gas-cartridge Orbo pistols that had been standard equipment for STN-J.

 

Dojima was right behind him, her own pistol out and at the ready. Approaching the corner, Sakaki looked briefly around the corner before stepping back. “We're out of the car, Michael, and following on foot.”

 

Looking around the corner again, Sakaki determined that Yamato was halfway down the block on the opposite side of the street from them. They were only a few blocks away from where Anne and John were waiting. Reholstering their pistols, the pair nonchalantly rounded the corner, doing their best to keep their distance and not alert their target that he was now being followed.

“Target is moving towards your position. ETA 5 minutes. Dojima and Sakaki are tailing him.”

 

John nodded, moving past Anne and looking around the corner. He could barely make out the figures several blocks away, and John nonchalantly ducked back around the corner. “We see them. Any sign of Karasuma and Hanako?

 

“They've gone silent for the moment. They're moving into position right now,” Michael responded as his fingers flew across the keyboard. Information flew across his screens as he continued to coordinate the actions of everyone on the team with precision and accuracy.

 

“We'll keep a careful watch for them. The last thing we need is a friendly-fire incident,” Anne responded on the channel for the first time, reaching into her coat to make sure that her pistol was where it should be. She hated using weapons such as this, but there were sacrifices that one had to make to get anywhere and the last thing she wanted was to reveal a secret to STN-J that very few in Solomon knew about her. Taking a deep breath, she tugged on the lapels of her coat absentmindedly, wishing she had her computer with her. At least then I could see what's going on with the big picture.

 

A gust of wind blew along the sidewalk sweeping newspapers and small clouds of dust with it. The two Americans could hear the soft taps of footfalls as they patiently for their pray. Their senses were alert for any signs of danger. Behind Yamato, the two STN-J members remained alert as well, knowing that if they made any wrong moves they would blow their cover and be in danger.

 

They were only a block away from the target area when the wind blew an empty soda can into the path of the STN-J members. Eyes on Yamato, Dojima never even saw the can in her path as she moved forward. Her foot connected with the can, sending it skittering noisily up the sidewalk ahead of her. Across the street and ahead of them, Yamato stopped and turned slowly in the direction of the noise. Dojima and Sakaki held their collective breaths and continued onwards. They hoped that the sudden sound and their appearance would not cause their target to bolt. Their weapons were hidden and any bystander would assume that they were just another couple out for an evening stroll… on the wrong side of town. Yamato stared hard at them for a moment as if trying to discern their true intent. Satisfied that they were harmless for the moment, he turned back and walked faster down the sidewalk. Briefly looking at each other, the two STN-J agents breathed a collective sigh of relief but turned their attention quickly back to the task at hand.

 

There had been a reason that this particular intersection had been chosen for their ambush. Two blocks behind the Americans was a small apartment complex, and in that apartment complex was where Yamato lived. The American team, having heard the sound of the can, tensed as they anticipated the chaos that could potentially follow. When they did not hear any sounds of fighting a moment later, they relaxed a bit and waited patiently and silently for their prey.

 

John had taken up a position in the shadow of the building on the corner, while Anne was leaning against a light pole that provided her with a good line of sight to the corner which Yamato was preparing to turn on. The two Americans could hear the sound of his shoes against the pavement draw closer. Nodding to her partner, Anne's hand went to the jacket-shrouded holster at her hip and undid the strap that kept the gun there firmly in place. From the corner of her eye she could see her partner doing the same. Her hand was resting on the butt of the gun in its holster when Yamato rounded the corner.

 

He seemed to be ignoring the Americans, but that changed quickly with another nod from Anne. Brushing the jacket away with her gun hand, she pulled the gun slowly from the holster, making sure that Yamato could clearly see it. According to the plan, Karasuma and Hanako should be showing up any second now… but that second had passed and already Yamato was realizing what she was holding. Coming to a stop in front of her, he looked surprised. John, from his seclusion behind the target, emerged likewise.

 

Yamato's expression belied the surprise at having been caught totally unaware. Eyes going wide, the young witch took a reflexive step backwards toward John, before realizing the man was there. Spinning around, he looked left and right for an escape. Anne's pistol was already coming up as she sighted along the gun's sights, aiming for the center of the man's mass. “Takari Yamato?” She asked, confirming their target one final time for the records.

 

He gave a half-nod, clearly too shocked to try and lie about himself. He knew that there would be retaliation for the death of the gang leaders, but he had never expected this! These Americans seemed almost like mercenaries, from their black clothing to the sophisticated pistols in their hands. Their intelligence had to be very good to have been able to have identified him so quickly and discovered the route he took to get to his apartment. A part of him also wondered how they'd even known it was him to begin with. He had killed the leaders in such a way that the police should have not been able to figure it out, with an ability that seemed straight from a manga rather than grounded in real life. Maybe, he thought, there had been witnesses who had last seen the gang's leaders with him. They might not know about my… unique abilities… at all. The surprise in his eyes was gone as quick as it had arrived. Narrowing them angrily, he focused on the female gaijin and felt the power start to well up around him. His hands came up and, before they could react, he unleashed a powerful blast of wind at them.

 

“Shit,” Anne muttered, stumbling backwards in the unexpected wind as she tried to re-center the gun on her target. John, caught completely off guard, stumbled backwards as he fought off the blast, his gun clattering to the ground behind him. Before Anne could react the witch screamed and sent another pulsing blast of wind at the two of them. Debris on the sidewalk and the street flew at them. Holding her hands up to shield her face, Anne tried to keep her footing as winds passed 70 miles per hour. It reminded her vaguely of trying to stand in a wind tunnel.

 

The wind gust caught a stray trash lid from a nearby alley, sending it flying at her. Before she could react the lid struck her in the stomach and sent her to the ground, waves of pain lancing from the spot where she'd been hit. Bruising was nothing new for Anne, thanks to the training she'd received as a part of RFO-7, but an aluminum trash can lid at 70 MPH was a bit much for her. On the ground, barely able to look up, she heard the shrieking of the wind grow louder before falling into a near-deafening silence.

 

Anne struggled to her feet as she realized that the witch had fled. This was not a good indication for the Americans, who had expected to be able to demonstrate how to pull off a hunt. Anne was already in a tactical mindset as she brought one hand up to her headset. “Michael! We lost him! Where's Karasuma and Hanako?”

 

She turned to check her partner out. John didn't look much worse for the wear as he retrieved his gun from the sidewalk behind him. Dojima and Sakaki rounded the corner, alerted by the noise of Anne's shouts and the terrifying winds. Shattered wood and stone was strewn about everywhere, and the trash can lid could clearly be seen half-buried in a telephone pole. Ignoring the stares of the two Japanese, Anne shook her head to clear the cobwebs from it. Using one hand she cautiously reached down and pressed it to her stomach, then winced at the pain. Bruised ribs, most likely, she assessed. At least nothing feels broken and I'm not bleeding.

 

“Michael?” Again Anne called for him as she realized she'd heard no response yet from the hacker and coordinator of this mission.

 

“Just a second, Anne,” Michael replied, his eyes moving over data that was scrolling on his computer screen. “I'm getting a distress signal from Karasuma's communicator. I'm trying to pinpoint the location.”

 

“What did you say, Michael?” Dojima asked, putting a hand to her ear. “Is Miho alright? What about Hanako?”

 

Michael shrugged as he looked over the screens. “I don't know. The signal appears to be coming from a warehouse fifty meters west of you. Hanako's communicator appears to be in that area as well, but I can't get a lock on it.”

 

The four turned to look at the old single-story warehouse. Anne took a moment to assess the situation as John brushed his clothes free of the worst of the debris that had clung to him when he went down. Taking the lead, Anne moved slowly towards the warehouse, gun in hand. Her other hand was up, fingers splayed, signaling the others to spread out behind her. There was a single door alongside a loading ramp and larger loading door. Anne moved towards the smaller door slowly. Her eyes darted right and left as her senses remained heightened. The other three moved behind her, guns drawn and at the ready. Being certain that there was no one hiding in the shadows, she took up a covering position on one side of the door and beckoned John forward.

 

Pistol in one hand, John took the other side of the door and tested the doorknob. It was unlocked. Pushing the door open slowly, he waited a split second then swiftly moved through the door with his gun at the ready. He looked left, then right, scanning his surroundings for any signs of danger. The building was dark inside. With what little light filtered into the building from outside, John could just make out the silhouettes of old abandoned machinery. He motioned forward with his free hand to the rest of the team.

 

The others had just entered the building and fanned out when the building's bright lights came on. Squinting at the sudden adjustment from darkness to light, Anne realized that they were not alone. Standing around them, most holding their own weapons up and aimed, stood half a dozen men and women dressed in worn jackets. Behind the semicircle of armed people, Anne could make out the bound form of their target, Yamato, lying on the ground.

 

Outnumbered nearly two to one, Anne realized that it would be best to surrender peacefully for the moment and hope that reinforcements arrived. Motioning to the rest of the group, she crouched and set her gun on the ground, then stood up and stepped away from it. Frowning, Sakaki slowly lowered his pistol, upset that they had seemingly been ambushed and captured by what appeared to be a gang. He did not see Karasuma or Hanako, though. That gave him a faint hope that they would still walk out in one piece instead of having to come up with an escape plan.

 

“I'm glad you came.” The deeper masculine voice interrupted Sakaki's plans and he realized that it sounded oddly familiar. Dojima seemed to recognize it as well, and the heads of the two Japanese looked up suddenly. Stepping out from a shadow behind the group, Amon nodded to them. “I apologize for having to lure you here. There is an urgent situation developing, and I fear we need your help.”