2: The Baton Passes to Uruz-7

26 June, 1831 Hours (Japan Standard Time)

Tamagawa, Chofu

It was evening. Chidori Kaname was strolling through a residential district, down the road that led from the station to her home. A sour-looking Sagara Sousuke followed, about five steps behind her.

“When are you going to give it a rest?” Kaname demanded, stopping suddenly in front of a green grocer’s stand. “I don’t need your stalkery bodyguarding anymore, remember? So could you please stop following me?”

“Well... It’s just that my apartment is in the same direction...” Sousuke was still living in the apartment that Mithril had prepared for the purpose of guarding Kaname; it was a one minute walk from hers.

The news that he wasn’t actually following her caused Kaname to frown. “W... Well, obviously.” She started walking again.

Apparently even Sousuke had his limits when it came to Kaname’s obstinacy, because he walked up behind her and said, “There’s something I want to ask you.”

“What is it?”

“What can I do to make you understand? I explained why I broke my promise. I gave you poppy flowers as a sign of repentance. In the interests of ensuring your future safety, I believe it’s best that we mend our relationship.”

A shot of irritation went through Kaname. Why did he always have to talk this way? “Mend what relationship? We’re classmates; that’s all. I don’t see why we need to be on speaking terms, do you?”

“It’s my duty to protect you,” Sousuke insisted.

Not again, Kaname thought. This arrogance was so typical. He was so full of himself! She snorted her derision. “Cut the Kevin Costner act. You’re just a loser who gets on everyone’s nerves. And I never asked for your protection.” At times like these, Kaname could turn her venom on full blast.

“It’s true that I never gained your consent. But—”

“But what? I have some weird power and the bad guys want it. That’s all it is, right? You don’t actually care what happens to me.”

“That’s not true. If anything were to happen to you—”

“Stop acting like you care!” Kaname shouted, loud enough to earn looks from passersby. “Work is all that matters to you, and of course it is! You’re a war-obsessed jerk and you don’t care about anything but your missions. If you’re not going to change, at least take your self-sabotaging stupidity somewhere I don’t have to see it.” Her words came so quickly that there was no room for argument.

“Let me tell you extent of our relationship,” she went on. “If you die on one of your stupid missions, I’ll find it in my heart to light a stick of incense in your memory. And when I get a boyfriend, some time when we’re in bed together I’ll laugh and tell him about the weird idiot I once knew at school. Is that good enough for you?!” By the end she was shouting, her shoulders heaving.

It was then that she realized Sousuke wasn’t angry, but silent and standing perfectly still. “I just don’t... care about you,” she said at last. Then, suddenly unable to take it any longer, she turned her back on him. She dashed away, cut across the street, ran up to the entrance of her apartment complex, dove into the elevator, and let the doors close behind her. As the elevator ascended, then, and only then...

“Ugh. What a stupid jerk I am...” she admitted as she banged her head against the wall. I know he was just trying to say “I’m sorry” in his own way... Why can’t I ever just be honest?

26 June, 1840 Hours (Japan Standard Time)

Tigers Mansion, Chofu, Tamagawa

Sousuke headed for his apartment, racking his brain. He couldn’t understand why Kaname was acting this way. She’d told Sousuke she hated him. She’d said she didn’t care if he died. She’d said that she didn’t want him around.

But how can that be true? he wondered. She’d helped him study, made lunches for him, helped cover for his various blunders at school... Those were expressions of affection, weren’t they?

Was she still angry about him breaking his promise last night? He’d explained and apologized for that, of course... but she hadn’t forgiven him.

So she really does hate me, then? Perhaps her daily acts of kindness were just a thank-you for his protection. The thought sent a sudden ache spreading from the back of his head down to his shoulders. He’d experienced this sensation a few times before: When he was surrounded by enemies and told that no reinforcements were coming; when he was heading home on a transport helicopter and the pilot shouted, “We’re out of fuel!”; when his comrade Sergeant Kurz Weber told him, “Hey, don’t worry.” It was a deeply unpleasant feeling.

Sousuke was always out of his depth in interpersonal affairs, but he’d found his relationship with Kaname to be a particularly mysterious and baffling one.

“Sounds like love. You’re a dead man,” Kurz had told him once with a cheery laugh. Sousuke had regretted talking to him about it. Even he knew—albeit from hearsay—that love was supposed to be a pleasant thing; it was logically impossible that the word could apply to this wasting misery he felt right now. With his mind churning all of this over, he trudged down the fifth floor communal corridor and came to a stop in front of his door.

That’s when he realized it: There was someone in his apartment. No... maybe two someones? No matter how wrapped up in his thoughts he might be, his trained soldier’s instincts weren’t about to miss that. He shoved his worries out of his mind and pulled a 9mm handgun from the small of his back.

He remained quiet, evaluating. The door was unlocked. Had they used the spare key he hid in the mailbox? If so, it wouldn’t be Kurz or Mao—they both had copies of his key.

Who, then? he wondered. It didn’t seem right for an ambush. He took in a deep breath, then burst through the door with all his might. Like a snake lunging at its prey, low and sharp, he dashed through the short entry hall.

He sprung out into the living room, and pointed his gun at the intruders. There were two of them. One was an unfamiliar boy, gaunt and dressed in pajamas. The other was a girl in a dingy suit, with ash blonde hair and blue eyes. She was holding a large automatic pistol that seemed out of place in her dainty hands, which she was pointing at the boy.

She stood frozen to the spot, wearing her surprise and fear openly. But when she recognized Sousuke, she let out a sigh of heartfelt relief. “Sagara-san. Oh... thank goodness.”

Sousuke’s eyes went wide. “C-Colonel?!”

The girl—Colonel Teletha Testarossa—lowered her gun and slumped against the wall behind her, as if all of the tension had left her body at once. “I thought you were the enemy, and that I was finished. I’m not... very good with firearms.”

“What’s going on here?” Sousuke asked. “Who’s that boy?”

“You can’t let him get away,” Tessa insisted anxiously. “He’s... well...”

Sousuke met the silent boy’s eyes. There was something off about his gaze. What is he looking at? The next thing Sousuke knew, the boy stood up, wavering, and took a step forward. Sousuke looked at him cautiously, instinctively pointing his gun at him.

The boy let out a groan. Then, with a sudden bloodcurdling scream, he lunged at Sousuke. Rather than firing, Sousuke leaned over, executing a shoulder throw on the charging boy. As the boy landed on his back, winded, Sousuke plunged the grip of his gun into his solar plexus. The boy gulped, and lost consciousness. Who is he? Sousuke wondered, even as he casually secured his victory.

“Just in time... The tranquilizer must have worn off,” Tessa said.

He handcuffed the boy—his name was Takuma, apparently—and threw him into the bedroom, then brought out a folding chair and offered it to Tessa. There was almost no furniture in his apartment—which meant no sofa, of course.

Sousuke didn’t know why a young girl like Tessa was serving as commander-in-chief of the amphibious assault team, Tuatha de Danaan. But most of their squad, himself included, recognized that she had the intelligence and ability for the role. It was why Sousuke was always nervous when speaking to her. Fighting alone in an arm slave felt like a simple task, compared with carrying the fates of several hundred people every day; Teletha Testarossa was on a higher plane of existence.

He asked her if she wanted some coffee. “Please,” she said. Sousuke gave her an awkward salute, then headed for the kitchen.

Ten minutes later, Tessa had given him a rough outline of the situation. Sousuke was surprised, but digested the information quickly.

At the same time, he found it hard to believe anyone would take an AS to a government facility just to retrieve this one boy. It felt, to him, like performing a chainsaw appendectomy; the enemy must enjoy such gratuitous violence.

Tessa went on to explain how she’d lost contact with Major Kalinin, how she and her bodyguard, Corporal Yang, tried to take Takuma out of the facility, and everything that had happened after.

“So you borrowed a car from the laboratory and drove off?” Sousuke asked from the kitchen, as he watched the coffeemaker bubble away.

“Yes,” she affirmed. “Their possession of an AS made calling in a helicopter the more dangerous proposition... and our transmitters were broken, anyway. Yang-san forced himself to drive despite his injury...”

“And you came right here?”

“No. We were on our way when Yang-san’s condition suddenly worsened... He seemed on the verge of losing consciousness, so I was forced to drop him off near Higashikurume. I used a public telephone to call an ambulance, then caught a taxi to get some distance...”

She really is intelligent, Sousuke thought. Mithril had no permanent center of operations in Tokyo; he’d heard that their intelligence division was setting up a Tokyo branch, but it wouldn’t be up and running for a while. In other words, this apartment was the one place in the country that contained someone Tessa could trust. Contacting the Japanese police was out; a supposedly secret laboratory had already been attacked. There was nowhere else she could safely go.

“I changed taxis twice and finally made my way here,” she went on. “Melissa had told me where the key was, so...”

Sousuke’s comrade, Master Sergeant Melissa Mao, and Tessa were close on a personal level, as fellow East Coast Americans. But why would the subject of my spare key come up? Just what do those two talk about? he wondered. “What’s the significance of Takuma himself?” is what he said out loud.

“Oh... I’m sorry, but you’re not authorized to know that,” Tessa said apologetically.

“I see. Forgive me for asking.” Sousuke saw nothing suspicious about being denied this information; it wasn’t unusual to hear such things when you were part of an organization like Mithril.

“Just know that he’s important to them—important enough to spur such drastic action on their part—and that if we allow them to retrieve him, terrible things will result.”

Sousuke filled a mug with coffee, returned to the living room and offered it to Tessa.

“Thank you, Sagara-san.”

“Not at all. Though I’m afraid it’s an inexpensive brand...”

“I spent close to two hours here watching over Takuma... I’m exhausted,” Tessa admitted. “I didn’t know the personal code required to activate your transmitter, even...”

“I’m sorry to hear it. Do... you think Corporal Yang will pull through?” Sousuke thought back on the highly competent (if sometimes overly trusting) corporal.

“Yes. His injuries didn’t seem critical; it was just the blood loss...” Tessa took a dainty sip from her cup, then sighed. “I feel so worthless. I’m no use at all on land. Because of me, Kalinin-san might...” Tessa hesitated, then glanced at Sousuke. “I don’t know how to tell you how sorry I am... I know he’s like a father to you.”

“It’s not your fault. He was doing his duty,” Sousuke told her. “And besides, we don’t know that he’s dead.”

“Of course, you’re right, but...”

“It’s actually more likely that he’s alive.”

“But...”

“He and I first met as enemies. I’ve never faced anyone more formidable.” This was Sousuke’s attempt at being reassuring, but Tessa’s reaction was different than expected. It was like instead of comfort, she’d found a new source of unease.

“Enemies?” she asked.

“It was a long time ago, during the USSR’s re-invasion of Afghanistan,” Sousuke explained. “We had an encounter in the Panjshir Valley.” Sousuke had been raised as a guerrilla in Afghanistan, while Kalinin was a leader of a Spetsnaz force. With the country embroiled in civil war, any meeting between them there would have had to be on a battlefield. “I knew the terrain like the back of my hand, but he completely beat me. He’s a difficult man to kill.”

“That’s a strange form of reassurance... But I’m sure you’re right. I’ll assume Kalinin-san is safe until proven otherwise.” Tessa smiled weakly. Then, realizing that Sousuke was still standing at attention, she said, “You don’t have to be so respectful, Sagara-san. Please, sit. This is your apartment, after all.”

“No, ma’am,” he countered. “This is a Mithril safehouse.”

“But you live here, don’t you?”

“Yes, ma’am. But it was acquired with Mithril funds.”

At last, Tessa broke out in a big smile. “You’re exactly how Melissa said you were.”

“What?” Sousuke was surprised.

“Completely inflexible, utterly straight-laced, and terribly kind... The way you comforted me about Kalinin-san, for instance.”

“Ah. Well, I...” he trailed off, frozen with discomfort.

Tessa peeked up at him, a faint light of mischief dancing in her large gray eyes. “Were you aware that I’m the same age you are?”

“Ah... I had heard that, yes.”

“If we walked hand in hand,” she pointed out, “we’d look like boyfriend and girlfriend.”

“Ma’am. Er... I’m honored?” Sousuke managed. He wondered if it would have been better to say something like, “I’m sure I’d be unworthy of you,” but Tessa didn’t seem offended by his choice.

Instead, she adopted a shy but lovely smile. “As am I. Well, all joking aside, you really should relax more at times like these... it’s hard for me to speak to you when you’re so tense.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“That wasn’t an order.”

“Understood. Was it a request?”

“Something like that... I’d like it if you’d take it as a request from a friend,” Tessa told him.

“I will, ma’am,” Sousuke said, barely relaxing at all. “As ordered.”

Tessa adopted an expression that was a mix of amusement and sorrow. “Well, good enough. Now, I have one other favor to ask...”

“Yes, ma’am?”

“Could I use your bathroom? You see the shape I’m in...” She tugged at her dust-covered blouse and held up her fraying braid.

“Er?”

“I’d like to take a shower. It’s working, isn’t it?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said with some hesitation. “At your leisure. Shall I contact the de Danaan?”

“Please. It should be in a deep dive at the moment, so have the Merida Island Base send an ELF transmission telling them to rise to periscope depth. My ID code for this week is, ‘A Man from Nantucket.’ Once the ship surfaces and opens a secure channel, I’ll speak to them directly.” Her instructions given, Tessa headed for the bathroom.

It was times like these that Sousuke wished his hearing wasn’t so good. He could hear the sound of clothing rustling in the changing room; the swish, swish of it being dropped into the washer; then a much softer rustling. Her legs sliding smoothly out of something; the clack of the bath door opening, then closing. Sousuke remained silent and still through it all. He wasn’t especially trying to listen in, and he wasn’t really trying to imagine her naked... but still, he felt restless.

Teletha Testarossa, the woman who existed on a plane beyond his comprehension, was in his shower. She wasn’t wearing a stitch of her informal civilian outfit. It was like a huge bomb had been placed, safety off, just beyond the bathroom door.

Okay, okay, get back to work... Sousuke thought sternly. He shook his head and committed himself to carrying out her instructions: using the apartment’s satellite transmitter to contact the Tuatha de Danaan in the Pacific. Radio waves didn’t travel well underwater, so he couldn’t talk to them directly; he instead asked Mithril’s West Pacific base to send a short message via ELF transmission; he received a reply two minutes later.

《Roger that. Please contact again at 1020 (GMT) on line G3.》

That was about twenty minutes from now. Sousuke turned off the receiver. Once contact was achieved, either the de Danaan or the West Pacific base would send reinforcements. Then they could take Takuma overseas, where he’d be out of enemy hands, and they’d have won—assuming he and Tessa could just keep him safe until then.

Sousuke checked the bedroom, where he’d left Takuma handcuffed to the simple bed. The boy was where he’d left him, and awake again already. He regarded Sousuke with a surprising degree of calm.

“Are you hungry?” Sousuke asked, probing his reaction.

“No,” Takuma responded, sounding more lucid than expected.

“You understand me?”

“Of course I do, Sagara Sousuke-san.” Takuma smiled slightly after saying his full name. He’d probably just seen the doorplate on their way into the apartment... but it was clearly meant as provocation, as if to say “I know exactly who you are.”

“You seem intelligent,” Sousuke said, then returned to the living room. He turned on the TV and began his weapons maintenance routine.

The 7:00 news happened to be playing on NHK, but nothing was mentioned about the laboratory attack; the Japanese government must be trying to keep everything quiet, including the presence of an AS-armed terrorist group at large.

We might want to move sooner than later, Sousuke thought while inspecting his silencer-attached submachine gun. The enemy probably didn’t know about his apartment, but that was no reason to let his guard down.

He was using a speedloader to fill a spare magazine with 9mm rounds when he heard the doorbell ring. Sousuke said nothing, but took his just-checked submachine gun and bulletproof vest and headed for the entrance. He held the vest like a shield, just in case they shot at him through the door. Eventually, he looked out the peephole.

Kaname’s face filled the distorted view provided by the fish-eye lens. She had changed into her street clothes, and was fidgeting somewhat nervously in front of his door. He opened it, suspiciously. “Chidori. What’s the matter?”

“Wow,” was the first thing she said. “What’s with the scary gun?”

“Things happened,” he said evasively. “Did you run into anyone suspicious outside?”

“Oh, please, of course not! Look, um...” Kaname hesitated, then looked down, then tapped the floor with her toe, and mumbled vaguely. “Um... I think I was too hard on you before. I mean... y’know... It’s not like you were just off messing around... and I’m trying to be understanding about this stuff, I guess I’m just... stubborn, in a lot of ways. So, um, I’m trying to say...” She gulped audibly, and finished, “Well... I’m sorry.” She bowed to him, then looked at him with upturned eyes. It was the face of someone afraid of total rejection.

Good; the incident is finally resolved, Sousuke thought. The oppressive feeling from earlier was gone without a trace—Perhaps he’d been overly sensitive in assuming that she hated him. “I feel like I’m the one constantly making trouble for you,” he admitted. “It feels strange to have you apologize to me...”

“You forgive me?” she asked.

“There’s no need; I’m the one at fault.”

“Really? Thanks so much!” Kaname’s expression instantly brightened, and she produced a multi-tiered lunch box from behind her back. “So anyway, I’ve got some stuff left over from yesterday. I brought it by; you want it? If you let me use your kitchen, I can heat it up, too...”

“Well...” Sousuke racked his brain. Tessa and Takuma were in the apartment. And Tessa was currently...

He hadn’t technically done anything wrong, yet his stomach churned with feelings of guilt.

“Did you eat already?” she asked.

“No, not yet...” The anxiety that clouded her eyes made him hesitant to lie.

“Then c’mon, let’s eat together. Can’t I come in?” Kaname tried to step inside, but Sousuke blocked her way. “What’s wrong?”

“Well... Your kindness is appreciated, but...”

“But what?”

“I’m currently in the middle of a complicated, sensitive situation,” Sousuke told her apologetically. “It would require time to explain, and I lack full confidence that you would understand...”

“What are you talking about?” Kaname asked suspiciously.

Just then, the door to the bathroom (which was just by the front door) opened. Tessa, naked except for a bath towel, peeked out, her wet hair shedding silver droplets onto the floor below. “Sagara-san. Do you have a T-shirt or... oh?”

Tessa and Kaname’s eyes met. For about three seconds, both stood there, dumbstruck. Standing between them, Sousuke felt greasy sweat form on his brow, and shook his head rapidly. He knew on an instinctual level that something very bad was happening. Yes, whatever this was, it was extremely not good.

“Good evening,” Tessa said with a bashful smile and a slight flush in her cheeks. For some reason, she was acting like a leading lady from Hollywood movie, right after a love scene.

“Um. Good evening...” Kaname replied, dumbly. Then, expression blank, she forced the wrapped parcel into Sousuke’s hands. “Here... you two take it.”

“Ch-Chidori?” he stuttered.

“Sorry to interrupt you and your girlfriend. She’s really pretty.” Kaname then spun around and sped down the hall.

Realizing vaguely that things were hurtling in a very serious direction, Sousuke tried to follow Kaname. But...

“Could you please not follow me?” she snapped at him, rooting him in place before he got far.

“Chidori, you have it all wrong,” he told her.

“How, exactly?”

“She’s... my superior. A colonel with Mithril, and the captain of our amphibious assault submarine. She’s out of my league in every possible way.” If Sousuke had been a little less flustered, he probably would have realized how absurd this claim sounded.

“Do you think I’m stupid?” Kaname demanded.

“Of course not.”

Kaname had stopped. Her shoulders were trembling. Sousuke couldn’t see her face, but he felt sure that she was angry. He was wrong.

“I’m sorry... I didn’t realize. I shouldn’t have butted in... I guess I’ve been a huge pain in the neck this whole time, huh?”

“No, Chidori. That’s not the case at all...”

“Look, it’s fine. You don’t have to soften it. I’m not angry. I’m just sorry. I’ll be more careful from now on, so...”

“Chidori...”

“I’m just sorry, okay?” Kaname said, and then ran for the emergency stairwell.

The colonel is not to blame. The fault lies with the terrorists, Sousuke told himself. At this point, if he ended up in a firefight with A21, he might be forced to keep shooting until he’d discharged every round in his possession.

When he returned, he found Tessa using the satellite transmitter to contact the Tuatha de Danaan in the Pacific. She was talking to her XO, Commander Richard Mardukas.

Since she had no change of clothes on hand, she was currently dressed (rather alluringly) in nothing but a khaki-colored T-shirt. It was his first time seeing her slender legs; her small, adorable toes. The T-shirt’s too-big collar gave him occasional glimpses of her white chest area, which made it hard for him to know where to rest his eyes. Even a walking block of wood like Sousuke could recognize the appeal of a girl like Tessa. Her defenselessness just added to it; Tessa was confusing him in a completely different way than Kaname did.

Apparently having finished her discussion, she turned off the transmitter.

“How did it go?” he asked.

“They’re sending reinforcements; Melissa and Weber-san,” she said, referring to Mao and Kurz. “They’ll bring an M9 with them. We’ll convey Takuma to the de Danaan, then issue your next assignment.”

“May I ask what that is, ma’am?”

“Recon, to find the enemy hideout. I asked the de Danaan’s mother AI to track transmissions by the police and the JSDF, so we should have a few hints by morning. Once we’ve located them, we can decide whether to leave them for further tracking or subjugate,” Tessa said in her commander’s voice.

“And you, ma’am?” Sousuke wanted to know.

“I’ll remain in Tokyo. There’s a very high chance that the enemies possess special equipment that only I know how to deal with.”

Sousuke chose not to pursue the matter; he knew that even if he asked what the “special equipment” was, she likely wouldn’t tell him.

“So, for now, we just wait. Let’s see...” Tessa sat down in the folding chair and stretched a bit. “Was that girl from before Chidori Kaname?”

“Er?” Her question was so out of the blue that he was at a loss to respond.

“She was Chidori Kaname, wasn’t she?”

“Yes.”

“You seem close,” she observed.

“No, ma’am,” he said after a pause. “We’re not, particularly...”

“Really? It didn’t look that way to me. Making you dinner and bringing it by... she seemed almost like your wife.”

“I apologize, ma’am,” Sousuke said humbly. “I’ll be more careful about mixing business and personal life from now on.”

Tessa smiled at Sousuke’s response. “That’s not how I meant it. I’m the one who approved your guardianship of her, and you were never told not to get close.” It was actually Major Kalinin who had given him the order—but of course, as his superior, Tessa would know about it too. “I was curious, that’s all... I thought ‘maybe, even Sagara-san has a girl that he likes’...” There was a strange tone in her voice, as if she were sounding him out somehow. Sousuke just froze up, unsure of how to answer, so she pressed him a bit more—meekly, for some reason. “Are you dating her, then?”

“No, certainly not,” Sousuke answered.

“Really?”

“Yes, ma’am. The fact of the matter is, I’m having a hard time building up a true relationship of trust.”

“I see. I’m glad.” Tessa linked her hands and smiled.

Feeling as if his superior had accepted his report, Sousuke relaxed. He was about to salute her, but—No, wait... What does she mean, “I’m glad”? Why would she be happy to hear that things aren’t going well between us?

Tessa just kept smiling. There was no particular air of malice about her.

I don’t understand, Sousuke thought, and he genuinely didn’t. Perhaps it was beyond the understanding of a mere NCO like himself; he repeated to himself that she was still the commander-in-chief of the Tuatha de Danaan, and then tried to change the subject. “If I may, ma’am, we should discuss Takuma. His personal significance aside, what do the forces of A21 consist of?”

Tessa seemed caught off guard by his question, but quickly recovered. “Well... I’m not completely sure, yet. They have very advanced weaponry, and I imagine they’re well trained.”

“How do they gather intelligence?”

“Unknown. There’s a chance they have a mole in the Japanese government.”

“Should we question Takuma?”

“I thought about that... but he hasn’t been very cooperative, and I don’t wish to resort to violence. I’d like to watch things a bit longer before I decide.”

“But—” Sousuke stopped. His expression was suddenly sharp and dangerous. “It seems we can’t stay here, regardless.” He picked up his submachine gun and shoved two spare magazines into his belt.

Tessa furrowed her brow. “What’s the matter?”

“Get into the kitchen and get down.”

Get down—Those two words must have told Tessa everything she needed to know. She didn’t bother asking if she could help in any way; she would know that anything she did would just trip him up. “Be careful,” was all she said, then, before moving into the kitchen.

The doorbell rang. He knew it wasn’t Kaname. He tapped the intercom button on the living room wall.

“Package delivery,” came the response.

“I’m on my way,” he answered, but he didn’t head for the front door. He remained exactly where he was, a finger on the light switch. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. A quiet tension hung over the room. A murderous intent crackled in the air like electricity. I’m back in my element, Sousuke thought.

That status quo lasted all of ten seconds before the veranda window broke, and a grenade flew in. No, not a grenade—a tear gas canister, which immediately spewed its noxious fumes. Its arrival was followed by a man in a black battle uniform, wearing a gas mask and wielding a submachine gun.

This was what Sousuke was waiting for. He shut the lights off in the living room and opened fire at the man in black. The sudden darkness slowed the intruder’s reactions enough that Sousuke’s wall of fire hit him unguarded. He fell, and fell silent.

More are coming, Sousuke thought. The room next door—

Ignoring the tear gas filling the room, Sousuke moved efficiently to the bedroom. He told Takuma to get down, then emptied his clip at the window behind the boy. Glass broke and sparks flew around the frame. He heard a short scream, followed by the sound of someone falling outside on the veranda.

As he replaced his weapon’s magazine in a smooth motion, he next heard a soft blast from the front door: Someone had blown off the hinges and knob with plastic explosives. This new intruder kicked down the door and entered the front way.

Sousuke returned to the living room. Through the darkness and thick fog of the tear gas, he could see a figure in a deliveryman’s uniform, wearing a gas mask and holding a large automatic pistol.

“Drop your weapon,” Sousuke said, offering the mercy of a warning that the man didn’t take. He pointed his gun at Sousuke, so Sousuke didn’t hesitate to shoot him. The muzzle flash created swirls in the tear gas; five 9mm slugs took the “deliveryman” down.

Sousuke checked the communal hall, the veranda, and elsewhere, but he saw no sign of more enemies. “Three of them?” he muttered. “It seems a bit—” Inadequate, he thought. While it was smart of them to surround him, their timing was slightly off. And reasonably skilled though they were, they’d had the misfortune of facing Sousuke.

He could hear Tessa, coughing violently, turn on the kitchen’s exhaust fan. It must be awful if you haven’t built up a tolerance, he thought, before assuring her, “We’re safe now, ma’am.”

“R-Right,” she said through more coughing.

Realizing she wouldn’t be able to talk for a while, he approached the fallen intruder in the living room. He was wearing a bulletproof vest, but shots to the throat and the head had killed him instantly. Sousuke stood there in silence; he felt a pang of something like pity, but it passed. How many security and lab personnel had this man killed in the exact same way? It wasn’t unjust for him to meet a similar end. Cliché though it was to say, this was kill or be killed.

The intruder must have rappelled from the roof to the veranda. His unused submachine gun was loaded with specialized bullets for wars against terrorism; both were far beyond what you could get from local crime syndicates. Sousuke removed the man’s gas mask and looked into his face. He sobered, silently. The man was young and Japanese; not much older than Sousuke. His eyes, wide open in shock, stared emptily past him.

Sousuke checked the other two bodies on the veranda and at the entrance. They were the same way; likely Japanese, and not much older than twenty, if that.

He’d thought the same thing when looking at the pictures in yesterday’s operation... just what kind of terrorist organization was A21, that it was comprised entirely of boys like these? They didn’t seem like a political organization, but...

Once she was recovered, Tessa came out of the kitchen. She made it to the bedroom and looked down, pale-faced, at the man lying on the veranda. She didn’t give voice to her feelings, but simply asked, “How did they know we were here?”

“I doubt they followed you here,” Sousuke said. “They would have had countless chances to attack you and Takuma before you arrived.”

“True. It’s hard to believe they could have an informant in Mithril... Perhaps I underestimated their intelligence network. The only other option is...” She suddenly stopped. Her voice cracked. “Is...”

“Colonel?”

“I’m sorry, I...” As if unable to bear it any longer, Tessa threw herself at Sousuke. Her slender fingers clutched at his button-up shirt. Her shoulders trembled, and her breathing was ragged. “I... I know it’s strange to act this way... because of something like this, after all this time... But I’d been... letting my guard down, and...” She squeezed out the words, her head pressed against Sousuke’s chest.

Sousuke didn’t know that he was the reason she had let her guard down. She’d let herself fall into the mindset of a normal girl, talking to a boy her own age, so this sudden reminder of the world she really lived in had brought forth a surge of emotions. “I’m sorry. I’ll be back to normal soon. I’m sorry,” she repeated again and again, fighting her tears as hard as she could.

Sousuke just stood where he was, uncertain of how to respond. Just then, he heard a chuckle from the nearby Takuma. “Is something funny?” he asked.

“No... but it’s interesting that you think you have time to spend on crying,” Takuma replied.

“What do you mean?” Sousuke asked, carefully prying Tessa off of him.

“You’re going to share their fate soon enough. There’s nowhere you can run... As long as I’m with you, my comrades will find you.”

“You must be quite important.”

“I am. Very,” Takuma asserted with confidence. “You’d be better off letting me go now... Just a friendly warning.”

“There’s another way to resolve things.” Sousuke pointed his submachine gun at Takuma’s head, suggesting a much simpler way of keeping him out of the enemy’s reach.

“You’re going to kill me?”

“I believe you know that I’d do it if necessary,” Sousuke returned.

“No, Sagara-san,” Tessa warned him from behind. Her crying had ceased by now.

“Ma’am. May I ask why not?”

“Well... I agree that it’s the safest and most logical course of action. But... that’s simply not how we do things,” Tessa said, as if she was the one who needed reminding. “Don’t you understand? If we do that, we’ll be just like they are. The entire point of having an organization like ours, doing what we do, will be lost.”

Sousuke remained in position. He looked at his gun, then at the expression on Takuma’s face beyond it. The boy had seemed arrogant before, but there was emotion on his face now. Most people would miss it—the tiniest sign of fear.

“Sagara-san, do you think I’m naïve?” Tessa asked.

“Of course not.” Sousuke lowered the gun. “Be grateful to her,” he said, then turned around and left.

Takuma watched him go, then looked at Tessa. “Do you expect me to act like I’m in your debt?”

“No. And that isn’t why I stopped him, anyway.”

“So much virtuous posturing...” Takuma sneered. “It’s how you make yourself feel special, I’m sure.”

“Think that way if you wish,” Tessa said indifferently, then followed Sousuke into the living room. “Thank you, Sagara-san.”

“Not at all,” Sousuke replied. “But it’s going to be trouble if more of them come.”

“You’re right,” she agreed. “We can’t stay here.”

“I’ll dispose of the bodies. Can you contact the de Danaan? For our destination, tell them...” Sousuke thought about where to go next. “Tell them, ‘We’re going to study Japanese history.’”

“Japanese history?” Tessa questioned.

“Sergeant Weber will understand.”

26 June, 2031 Hours (Japan Standard Time)

Maison K, Tamagawa, Chofu

Kaname lay on the sofa, staring emptily at the ceiling. She’d wanted to cry at first, but that had passed, and now she just felt tired all over. What she’d seen had been a real shock to her system; she’d assumed he was so standoffish and inflexible that no girl would ever make time for him. “But he had a girlfriend like her this whole time...”

I’ve been so stupid, she thought. Just because we’ve been through a little life-or-death situation doesn’t mean he really cares about me... I got myself all puffed up, thinking I was the only one who saw any good in him... What was I thinking? Everyone must be laughing at how stupid I am...

She picked up a hand mirror next to her and looked at her own face. “I’m so ugly...” At least, that’s what that girl must have thought. Compared to her... Sparkling silver hair and big gray eyes; a dazzling smile, like a figure skater or a gymnast. “She was so pretty...” Kaname couldn’t compete.

And given the way she was acting, they were clearly in the afterglow of something. Is she the real reason Sousuke broke his promise yesterday? she wondered. Maybe he lied about it being for work; they were actually doing... things... all night long... and then Sousuke went to school in the morning, while she stayed in his apartment all day... The idea contradicted a lot of facts as she knew them, but in that moment, she lacked the objectivity to realize it.

“I wonder how they met each other...” she whispered to herself. The daughter of a dead comrade? Someone he saved once, the way he saved me? It must have been a dramatic encounter, either way... like something out of those new 007 movies. I bet they’ve been together since long before he met me... The idea was entirely without basis, but in that moment, she lacked the calm to reflect upon that.

“I wonder what they’re doing now...” Sharing a meal together, maybe? The two of them talking happily across the table, gazing at each other with puppy dog eyes... Whispering “I love you”... In fact, Sousuke was stoically disposing of terrorist corpses, but Kaname had no way of knowing that.

She turned on the TV, turned it off, stared into space for about ten minutes... and then, the doorbell rang. “Who’s coming by at this hour? Darn it...” Kaname rolled over sluggishly on the sofa, considered pretending she wasn’t home, then at last got up and went to the door. She didn’t check who it was first, so she was surprised when it was Sousuke, looking grim. He was with that girl, who was looking even more grim. They were accompanied by an unfamiliar boy who was... indeed, looking grim.

“Um?” she asked, completely baffled by their presence.

“We need help. Please hide us,” Sousuke said morosely.

Fuming all the while that, “This is a pretty big ask,” and “It’s none of my business, you know,” she nevertheless made them a pot of roasted green tea. It was hard to say if it was the result of good upbringing, or if she was just a pushover... but either way, it was one of her better traits. Even after they explained the rough outline of events, though, her dissatisfaction still wouldn’t abate.

“Okay, so...” Kaname placed the teacups onto the table. “There’s some weird terrorist group out there, and it’s after you because of this jerky-looking guy?” She was referring to Takuma; Sousuke had wanted to toss him in the bathroom, but Kaname didn’t like the idea, so they’d been forced to sit him down within arm’s reach. He was being docile for now, at least. “And you’re saying this girl is your superior officer,” Kaname continued, “and a colonel?”

“Correct,” Sousuke replied succinctly.

“Boy, I knew you were a lousy liar, but this is pushing it, you know?” Kaname’s skepticism was likely exacerbated by Takuma’s presence, which prevented him from sharing any details of Mithril’s situation or internal structure. “So... Testarossa-san, right? How old are you?”

“Sixteen. But I’ll be seventeen in six months,” Tessa answered, then took a sip of her tea. She was now wearing baggy cargo pants beneath her T-shirt, jury-rigged in place with a belt.

“A sixteen year old girl captaining a submarine?” Kaname questioned skeptically. “I’ve seen The Hunt for Red October, you know. Submarine captains are hard-edged old guys like Sean Connery. She looks more like ‘Underling A,’ the character who reads out communications.”

In spite of Kaname’s rudeness, Tessa nodded as if in agreement.

“But it’s the truth,” Sousuke protested.

“Look I don’t... I don’t care what happened between you guys,” Kaname continued. “But there’s such a thing as basic consideration, you know? If you’re going to ask me for help, you can’t also be lying to me.”

Sousuke was already regretting his choice to come here. The streets nearby were poorly lit, and he’d assumed the next apartment complex over would be the last place the enemy would think to look for them. But it was foolish of him to think that Kaname would accept the situation just because he’d explained it.

The whole time, Tessa just kept sipping her tea, offering no defense whatsoever. She apparently had no intention of backing Sousuke up. Was it just his imagination, or had she been strangely quiet since he told her they were going to Kaname’s place?

“Colonel... Colonel?” He addressed her, but she didn’t respond.

Then she looked up a few seconds later, as if only just realizing she was being addressed. “Oh, that’s me, right! What is it?” Her reaction just deepened Kaname’s suspicions.

“Colonel, will you please explain?” Sousuke asked, panicking.

“Explain what?” Tessa asked innocently.

“Your identity,” Sousuke clarified. “Your circumstances.”

“Oh, right... Well... I’m a battleship... no, was it a submarine captain? I’m a submarine captain, and a... a colonel, and I’m Sousuke’s commanding officer. Really, you have to believe me, Chidori Kaname-san.”

Sousuke could feel the sweat rising on his back. Why was she explaining things so haltingly? And she’d called him Sousuke, too... It didn’t feel like an expression of closeness; there was malice behind it. Had he offended her somehow? “C-Colonel...”

“Is something the matter, Sergeant Sagara?” This time she gave him a beaming smile—a smile pregnant with meaning.

“Not at all,” he said at last. “Anyway, Chidori... It’s all true, so...”

“I see. I get it. I totally get it,” Kaname said. She didn’t sound like she got it at all. “I’m a very patient person, so if you insist that that’s the story, I’ll leave it at that. Now, let’s move on to the next question...” Kaname glared at Takuma. “Mr. Smirky over here... what’s his deal? He really gets on my nerves, and I can’t explain why.”

“I’m so very sorry, Chidori Kaname-san,” Takuma responded quietly.

Kaname snorted. “You don’t look sorry to me. And you haven’t even tried the tea I made you.”

“I’m not thirsty.”

Kaname struck the table, and Tessa recoiled. Takuma showed a hint—just a hint—of surprise. Kaname leaned across the table to glare down into his face. “It’s a politeness thing.” Her voice was strangely intimidating. “Now drink. This ain’t the cheap stuff.”

“And if I refuse?”

“I’ve got some flat Dr. Pepper in the fridge,” Kaname replied. “I’ll pour it down your throat until you beg for mercy.”

Takuma said nothing.

“I mean it, okay?”

Takuma raised the teacup and took the tiniest of sips. “Satisfied?”

“You’re a real piece of work... I’d love to meet your parents. I bet they spoiled you rotten,” Kaname grumbled.

In a second, Takuma’s expression became dangerous. Sousuke tensed, expecting another outburst, but it seemed things hadn’t reached that point just yet. Still, the boy glared at Kaname with dark, inhuman eyes.

Kaname, though, was far from cowed—she looked like a general who’d just spotted a weakness in the enemy ranks. “Ooh, did that make you mad? ‘Don’t make fun of my mommy,’ et cetera?”

“I don’t have a mother,” Takuma told her flatly.

His words gave Kaname a moment of pause. “What a coincidence; neither do I. Neither does Sousuke. Did you think you were the only person in the world like that?”

Takuma went silent again.

“Guess I hit the nail on the head. So typical,” Kaname gloated. “Look at that spoiled little expression of yours... I shudder to think what your family was like...”

Takuma started to moan, and his eyes lost their focus. Here it comes, Sousuke thought. He didn’t know the boy’s exact condition, but he’d assumed that certain emotional triggers were what drew out his aggression.

His voice rising to a cry, Takuma lost his cool and tried to jump at Kaname. Sousuke grabbed him and held him back. “Ahhhh! You... you...” Kicking and struggling, Takuma trailed off into more incoherent screams, as he was pulled away from the table.

Kaname was stunned for a moment by Takuma’s rage, but her dropped jaw turned quickly to a grin and a flash of a V-sign. “Made ya mad! I win.”

Sousuke, pinning the raging Takuma to the floor, felt renewed regret about his decision to come here. But as he grabbed Takuma’s left arm to hold it down—

He stopped and stared. There was a lump in the man’s upper arm. No, if it was just a lump, it wouldn’t have given him pause— It was hard and cylindrical; someone less acquainted with human anatomy than Sousuke might have assumed it was part of the bone. Something was buried in Takuma’s arm.

Sousuke knocked him unconscious with a chop to the back of the head; he could hardly examine him while he was struggling like this. “Colonel,” he said.

Tessa reacted immediately this time, standing up. “What is it?”

“Look at this...” he said, indicating the lump.

She pressed a fingertip against it. Her expression quickly turned serious. “I see. I’ve been careless...”

“Do you know what it is?”

“Yes. It’s a transmitter... It puts out a signal every few minutes to reveal his position,” Tessa clarified. “The model was created to monitor prisoners doing labor outdoors, and it’s primarily made of acrylic and silicon. Most screenings wouldn’t detect it.”

While Tessa explained, Sousuke had already picked up his submachine gun to prepare for combat. The enemy knew where they were already; an attack could come at any time. No one would have detected a transmitter implanted inside of him. There was no informant after all; they’d tracked him with a much simpler method.

“What’s going on?” Kaname asked suspiciously.

“Nothing good,” Sousuke said shortly. “Keep away from the windows and the front door.” He focused his attention outside the apartment. He didn’t sense an enemy presence; maybe they were being cautious after the first attack had ended so badly. Perhaps they were waiting for reinforcements...

“Um...”

“Yes, Chidori?”

“So, it sounds like there’s something in his arm?” Kaname hazarded a guess.

“Yes. It’s telling the enemy our position,” Sousuke answered in mild annoyance. He searched through his pocket. “Colonel, can you get it out? I have a knife on hand... morphine, too.”

“Right,” Tessa agreed. “I suppose we’ll have to... But I know nothing about surgery.”

“I’ll do it, then.” Disinfection, surgery, extraction, stitching... He doubted the enemy would give them time for all of it. But they had to disable the transmitter before they took him anywhere else.

“Hey...” As Sousuke produced a disposable syringe, Kaname tapped him on the shoulder.

“What is it?” he asked. “I’m busy.”

“You just need to destroy the transmitter, right?”

“Yes. Please give him room,” Tessa responded in Sousuke’s place.

“I was just thinking, we’ve got a big microwave... Want to try that?”

Sousuke and Tessa looked at each other.

He stuck a chopstick in the small hole behind the microwave door’s hinge. By tricking the simple safety switch, he could run the device even with the door open.

The arm of the still-unconscious Takuma was wrapped in rubber as an insulator, with a hole that left only the transmitter exposed. Once preparations were complete, Sousuke bent the boy’s arm and shoved it into the microwave oven.

“A few seconds should do it,” he said.

“Okay, here we go.” Kaname spun the timer dial and turned it on. Microwaves—fatal to electronic devices even with the briefest exposure—rained down on the transmitter in his arm. Five seconds later... “I’m turning it off.” The microwave let out a “ding” as Kaname turned the dial to zero. Nothing looked different, but he assumed the transmitter would now be disabled.

“What an absurdly reckless idea...” Tessa’s repugnance was understandable. One miscalculation and they could have boiled the blood in Takuma’s arm.

“But we’re safe now, right?” Kaname asked.

“Yes, but...” Tessa didn’t seem to know what to say. The attitude of subtle superiority—or disdain, to put it in less flattering terms—that she had initially shown toward Kaname seemed to be on the wane. It must be hard to maintain one’s pride after being shown up in knowledge of basic cooking appliances.

“We’re not out of the woods yet,” Sousuke said as he drew back to the kitchen door. “The moment they realize the transmitter’s disabled, they’ll be after us. We have to leave, ASAP.”

“But since they’ve known that we’re here,” Tessa said, “they’ll be watching the front door, won’t they?” If they wanted to avoid a fight, they’d have to slip out without being seen.

“Chidori,” Sousuke asked, “Does your veranda have a fire exit?”

“You mean a hole in the floor? Yeah...”

“We’ll escape that way,” he decided. Sousuke heaved Takuma onto his shoulders and headed to the veranda, with Tessa close behind. He peeked carefully through the curtains to check conditions on that side; there was no sign of surveillance from the building across from them, so it seemed safe to assume that the enemy wasn’t watching. Keeping low, he stepped out onto the veranda and located the sliding panel in the floor. Opening it would give them access to the next floor down.

“So you’re off, huh? Take care, I guess,” Kaname said. She apparently intended to remain.

“What are you talking about?” Sousuke demanded. “You’re coming with us.”

“Huh?” Kaname asked in confusion.

“You’ll be a target if you stay.” Indeed, they might torture her to find out where Sousuke had gone.

“Wait a minute. I’m a bystander here!”

“I know, but... I’m sorry,” he apologized. “You’re involved now.”

“You’ve gotta be kidding me! I’m not coming along on your little elopement! Don’t you realize how messed up that is?!” Kaname argued, loud enough that the whole neighborhood could probably hear.

“Chidori. As I explained before, we are not—”

“Yeah, yeah. Insert labored excuse here... I’ll be fine on my own, so just focus on your girlfriend, okay?” Kaname seemed absolutely intractable. Sousuke began to panic: how could he convince her?

“Chidori-san. This is all a misunderstanding,” Tessa interrupted, losing her patience. “Sagara-san is telling the truth. I’m sorry that we’ve dragged you into this, but you really do need to come with us. Your safety is important to Mithril.” She now spoke with precision, so unlike her laid-back demeanor before. Anyone—even Kaname—would be able to see that she wasn’t just messing around.

“But... earlier, you...”

“It was a joke that went too far,” Tessa admitted candidly. “I apologize. As unbelievable as it may seem, I am his superior officer, and I do have several hundred people under my command.”

Kaname said nothing.

“Mithril is a unique organization. Please trust me.”

Kaname glanced between Sousuke and Tessa, then stared hard at Takuma. Maybe she was realizing that the situation, that the grouping, didn’t fit whatever scenario she’d cooked up in her mind... that things couldn’t be as simple as she’d made them out to be. Reluctantly, she nodded. “Something about this still doesn’t add up... but, fine. I’ll come along if I have to.”

“Thank you,” Tessa replied. “Sagara-san, let’s proceed.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Sousuke sighed inwardly in relief. He opted not to tell her that the enemy might still break into her room and rummage through it.

“Wait a minute. I need to pack a travel bag—”

“No time,” he told her shortly.

“Can I at least take my PHS? I gotta ask Kyoko to record a drama for me later.” Kaname ran back to her bedroom and returned right away with her portable phone.

They opened the panel in the floor, and Sousuke climbed down first. Kaname and Tessa slid Takuma through the hole, Sousuke caught him, and then the girls followed after. Tessa seemed to have trouble with the descent, but she managed it with Sousuke and Kaname’s help.

The resident of the apartment below didn’t seem to notice them; whoever it was, they were watching baseball with the volume all the way up. Bottom of the 8th, two outs, bases loaded. It’s four to one and—

“Wow, Hanshin’s winning,” Kaname whispered as she lent an ear to the broadcast.

“Let’s go down one more floor,” Sousuke whispered back. They climbed to the next veranda down in the same manner as before. The lights in that room were out; nobody seemed to be home. Gratefully, Sousuke broke a window and entered the living room. Carrying Takuma through the darkness, he made it to the front door, unlocked it, cracked it open just five centimeters, and checked outside.

A black van was parked on the street in front of them. Tinted glass windows obscured his view of the back, but there was a man visible in the driver’s seat. Sousuke couldn’t be sure it was the enemy... but whoever it was, they didn’t seem to have noticed them.

“Let’s go,” he decided. Sousuke committed the van’s plates to memory, then crouched his way down the communal corridor with Kaname and Tessa in tow. He led them down the emergency staircase, vaulted the railing from the first floor corridor, then hid behind the shrubbery there.

Tessa let out a little shriek as she caught her foot on her way over the railing, and ended up hitting the ground back-first. As Sousuke and Kaname helped her up, she said, “I... I’m fine,” in a pained voice. Her eyes were filled with tears, but the injuries didn’t seem severe.

“So, where to now?” Kaname whispered as she peeked out from behind the hydrangea bushes.

“I’m thinking,” Sousuke answered. “We need to go somewhere we won’t draw undue attention.”

“Yeah, right...” Kaname said, casting a glance at Tessa, who for some reason looked despondent.

There was a Mithril vehicle in the parking lot nearby, but Sousuke wanted to remain on foot if possible. The police would likely be on high alert after the incident that morning, and Takuma’s face would be everywhere by now.

“Ideally it would be somewhere close by, whose layout we’re familiar with, but with no danger of getting other people hurt,” Sousuke said, laying out the most important tactical conditions.

Kaname seemed to find immediate inspiration, and raised an index finger skyward. “Hey, I know just the place.”

“Where?”

“School.”

“Not school,” Sousuke disagreed. “They’ll find us there.” They would probably search his and Kaname’s apartments and immediately learn their connection to Jindai High.

“Not that one,” Kaname explained. “There’s a high school even closer to here.”

26 June, 2107 Hours (Japan Standard Time)

Akami Pier, Koto Ward, Tokyo

After Andrey Kalinin regained consciousness, he ran a full self-inspection of his body. His nervous system seemed to be working fine; at the very least, he could feel the pain he was in. No issues with his skeletal system, beyond a few fractured ribs—this might have caused lung damage, but not enough to be fatal. Six deep gashes on his arms and back. Those had been caused by glass shards, which had since been removed. The bleeding had staunched, but not without significant blood loss. Conclusion: He was depleted, but stable.

His next realization was that he was on a ship moored in the harbor. He could hear the lapping of waves and footsteps echoing faintly through the steel frame. There were no problems with his hearing, then... After judging that there was no one around, Kalinin opened his eyes and moved his head slightly. Pain shot down his right side, but he ignored it.

He was in a small, amber-colored cabin. He could see a bare-bones bed, naked fluorescent bulbs overhead, rust on the iron walls... There was a metal door across from him too, and his gut told him that it was locked from the outside.

His right leg was handcuffed to the bed frame. He tilted his head to look down at himself, and saw that his wounds had received basic treatment. He was wearing pants, but his top half was bare. His lean, muscular frame was bandaged excessively.

Sloppy, Kalinin thought. Whoever brought him here must not have a dedicated doctor in their ranks.

After about five minutes, he heard a sound outside the metal door. It was unlocked and opened, and a woman stepped into the cabin. It was the woman he had seen before he lost consciousness in the lab; he recalled that she’d been addressed as Seina, then.

“I see you’re awake.” Her voice was cold and delicate, reminiscent of fresh snow. She was still in her orange operator’s uniform. She had delicate features and chestnut hair, worn in a mushroom cut.

“Can I help you?” Kalinin asked, without attempting to sit up.

“I wanted to talk to you,” she said.

“If I were you, I wouldn’t waste my time,” Kalinin offered. “I’d simply kill me and dump me in the ocean.”

“Always time for that later.” Seina gave a cold smile and leaned against the door. “You have an excellent subordinate. He took out three of our pursuers and absconded with your secretary girl and Takuma.”

By “secretary girl,” she probably meant Teletha Testarossa, which meant that the colonel and Yang must have gotten the boy out of the laboratory. It was a lot of responsibility for Yang to handle by himself, but at the same time, Kalinin could imagine him giving them the slip.

“He’s one of yours, isn’t he? Sagara Sousuke...”

Kalinin managed not to show surprise at Seina’s words. Not Yang, but Sousuke? Then something had happened to Yang, yet Tessa had made her way to Sousuke’s apartment herself. “Assuming he is,” Kalinin asked, “do you expect me to give you information about him?”

“Not especially,” Seina admitted. “Your injuries are so severe, you’d probably die before I tortured it out of you...”

“Then why did you save me?”

“Because I wanted to talk to you, as I said. Besides, it doesn’t matter to me who you people are.”

“How can you be so sure?” Kalinin asked.

“Because you don’t appear affiliated with the police, or the JSDF. Your actions are sporadic and weightless; you may be a skilled group of individuals, but you pose no real threat to us.” She was commenting on their inability, compared to government organizations, to bring material resources to bear; that was indeed one of the Mithril’s weaknesses.

“You seem an excellent leader as well,” Kalinin noted.

“Do you think so? I know someone much better than me.” Seina didn’t hesitate to admit she was their leader. Then after falling silent for a few minutes, she asked, “Have you ever heard the name Takechi Seiji?” Her hopes didn’t seem particularly high.

“No.”

“He was a Japanese mercenary. He had his start in the Vietnam War, then traveled everywhere... the Congo, Yemen, Nicaragua, Lebanon... ‘Storied veteran,’ I believe is the term. He specialized in reconnaissance and survival.” There was a bit of affection in her voice, now. “After serving with the Republic of Kurdistan during the Fifth Arab-Israeli Conflict, he returned to Japan and launched a certain project. Can you guess what it was?”

“Not a private security company, I imagine,” Kalinin guessed dryly.

“A welfare project. As part of an organization with the strange name of A21,” she said with a trace of self-mockery, for some reason. “His goal was the rehabilitation of juvenile delinquents. Truly notorious ones guilty of the worst crimes imaginable... Armed robbers, manslaughterers, murderers, rapists, arsonists... et cetera, et cetera...”

Kalinin listened silently.

“Takechi Seiji bought an abandoned island and released these ‘irredeemables’ onto it. He trained them rigorously and thoroughly, teaching them his own survival and combat techniques. Even those who rebelled at first quickly came to follow him, because the island lacked not only electricity and plumbing, but also food—following his teachings was the only way they could survive.”

“It sounds very effective,” Kalinin mused.

“Yes, it was effective. He didn’t preach love to his students. He showed them how to survive in a hostile environment, taught them more efficient methods of killing... and as a result, gave them a resource known as ‘self-confidence.’ They lost the need to dirty their hands with crime.”

“Heartwarming,” Kalinin said. “But I assume there’s more to the story?”

“There is,” Seina affirmed. “A TV station caught wind of his training. They came to the island without permission, entered a warehouse on its outskirts, and poked around in his equipment. It caused an accident; seven people died.” She lowered her eyes, pensively. “He was ruined after that. The media began a feeding frenzy, ignoring the real cause of the accident. They treated him as if he was running a training school for terrorists. Some said he abused them, some said he was grooming them for terrorism. They were like hyenas on a kill. The police came around, and in the end, his training facility was dissolved... and the pasts of his students were publicized.” Her voice burned with cold anger. “Even mine. The story of what a monstrous father did to his own daughter.”

She likely wasn’t just referring to physical abuse, but to far uglier acts. Kalinin could imagine that the father in question was long dead, and he could guess who it was who had taken him out. A21... They weren’t mere terrorists, then, nor an extremist militia.

Seina briskly walked up to him and leaned over, close enough that he could feel her breath from where he lay. “Do you know why I’m telling you all this?”

Kalinin kept his face impassive. “I don’t know,” was what he said, though he had an idea.

“Because you remind me of him,” she answered. “Of Takechi Seiji.”

Kalinin was half-Russian and half-Estonian; he couldn’t possibly look much like the Japanese man in the story. But perhaps he had a similar air. “But that doesn’t mean you’ll release me, I suppose.”

“That’s up to you,” she said. “Could I ask you one question?”

“Certainly.”

“If you were labeled a fraud and killed, and your subordinates went after those responsible... What would you think? Would you be happy?”

“I wouldn’t think anything,” Kalinin answered. “I’d be worm food. The dead can’t think.”

“How dull. Maybe I’ll kill you after all,” she said indifferently, pulling a gun from her belt.

“I told you the conversation was pointless.”

“Yes, I was a fool to think otherwise. We have other things to focus on.”

“Revenge, you mean?” Kalinin asked.

Seina thought for a moment. “I never thought about it that way. We just want to add a bit of our own color to a city saturated with peace... if you call that revenge, then I suppose that’s what it is. To spread all-consuming destruction, to tear the town apart with flames of fear... That’s what I desire.” Her motivation was an all-abiding emptiness. The others were likely the same way. This wasn’t a spur-of-the-moment thing; it was the product of a cold fury, built up over years. A fundamental rebellion against the world itself... that was her sole driving force. Kalinin had seen many like her in his time.

Seina pointed her gun at him.

“I’m going to find your subordinate, Sagara Sousuke. I will kill him and anyone else with him. Then I’ll bring Takuma back.”

“To use the lambda driver?” Invoking that word was a calculated risk for Kalinin, an expert in escaping such dangerous situations. Given what was about to happen, his had to make him and his associates as interesting to her as possible. Inclining them to keep Tessa for interrogation could mean the difference between life and death for her.

Indeed, Seina’s thin eyebrow moved just a tad, registering surprise. “You know about that, too? I’m surprised.”

“You must be curious about me now.”

She returned the gun to its holster and looked down at him with an air of detachment. “I am. Far more than before.” She turned around and headed for the cabin’s exit.

“By the way...” Kalinin asked her as she left. “What’s Takechi Seiji doing now?”

Seina stopped. “He’s dead. Hanged himself in jail... It was a tragedy.”