2: O Noisy Night

24 December, 1401 Hours (Japan Standard Time)

Port of Yokohama, Yokohama

It was a five-minute bus ride from JR Sakuragimachi Station to Shinko Pier. Situated next to a seaside park packed with couples at twilight, this was where the Pacific Chrysalis was currently docked. Its hull was glittering white, an array of artistically curved funnels and intricately layered passenger decks.

The Pacific Chrysalis was massive. At 272 meters long and 100,000 tons, it was one of the largest cruise ships in the world. Outside of a handful of Caribbean luxury liners that were even larger, there were few in the world that rivaled this one for size. Mithril’s amphibious assault submarine, the Tuatha de Danaan, was about the only ship on this scale that Kaname had ever been on, and the Pacific Chrysalis seemed to dwarf even that. It was like an entire city set afloat.

Since that military vessel was Kaname’s only prior seagoing experience, the amenities of the Pacific Chrysalis now seemed unspeakably extravagant. The interior, too, was vastly more spacious than the submarine’s had been, with cabins and corridors reminiscent of a hotel.

“Certainly fancy in here...” Kaname whispered idly, as she laid her luggage on the bed of her cabin.

Her roommate, Kyoko, responded in excitement. “Yeah, it sure is! Did you see that lobby we passed through when we boarded? It was so big and beautiful, I couldn’t believe it! And the captain, and the live music there to welcome us... that was really something else!”

They had just come aboard with their classmates and teachers. Most of the crew that had greeted them as they came up the gangway were foreigners. They seemed friendly and courteous, and Kyoko and the teachers all seemed to find it thrilling, but Kaname couldn’t help but feel like something was off. She couldn’t shake the sense that a few of the crew seemed to recognize her in some meaningful way. Their expressions seemed to say, “Ah, she’s the one,” as if they’d known she would be here—or rather, that they knew what fate was in store for her here. It was subtle; just a slight tension in their faces, followed by an exchange of glances, and then cheery smiles, as if nothing had happened.

No, you’re being stupid, she decided. After all, their last field trip had been in the news, and she stood out even among her classmates as “the last one saved.” Of course the captain and crew would know about her.

“Hey, Kana-chan,” said Kyoko, interrupting her thoughts.

“Hm?”

“Let’s hit up topside before we leave port. They say the observation deck has a great view of the Minato Mirai wheel.”

“Sure,” Kaname agreed. “Actually, I’m pretty hungry, too... You bring any snacks?”

“Ah, sorry,” Kyoko told her apologetically. “I ate with Shiori-chan and the others while we were waiting to board earlier. I heard Mayu-chan brought Pocky, though. Maybe get some from her?”

“Oh, yeah? I’d better confiscate it; she’s been putting on weight lately!”

“Wow, mean!”

Kaname left Kyoko behind, cackling.

There were a few female students hanging around in the brightly-lit corridor, chatting boisterously. Ah, figures... Kaname reflected. Their class weren’t the only ones on board, and they’d been warned in homeroom several times not to make trouble for the other passengers. Yet here they were already...

Kaname’s instincts as class representative took over, and she was about to scold the students, when—

“Give me a goddamned break!” came a man’s voice. The words were in English, the voice deep and forceful in a way that let it easily boom over the girls’ laughter.

A large Caucasian in a suit was chewing out a member of the crew, who was looking a little put out by it all. Kaname found herself thinking the man looked a bit like Arnold Schwarzenegger when he did comedy movies. “You can’t stick me in a B-class cabin with these landlubber girls!” he objected.

“I’m sorry, sir,” the crew member apologized. “But the A-class cabins are all full—”

“Then get me a private suite, you ICBM dunderhead! Is this how you treat a commander in the United States Navy?!” the large man demanded to know. “Got something against me, do you? You’re with the Air Force, aren’t you?!”

“S-sir—”

“Stop this, Captain! You’re embarrassing yourself. This is exactly why your wife ran off right before you left for Japan!” A handsome young man of East Asian descent, apparently companion to the angry ‘Schwartzie,’ clung to the man to try to hold him back. He was wearing a suit, too.

“What was that, Takenaka, you incompetent XO?! You could show a little gratitude for my inviting you here in Eliza’s place!”

“How dare you!” Takenaka fumed back. “I was having the time of my life on Waikiki Beach when you dragged me off by force!”

“Oh, please!” the captain returned. “That curvy Japanese lady you were chatting up? She was probably crawling with STDs! You should be thanking me!”

“Damn you! I had a good thing going, and now it’s all down the drain!”

“Shut up! It serves you right!” spat the captain. “You can’t be off enjoying your vacation while your superior officer is wrestling with divorce! You should suffer with me!”

“That was your real motive, wasn’t it?” Takenaka said accusingly. “I bet it was, dammit!”

The men began to grapple in the hallway, right in front of the crewman. Another crewman ran up to assist, and with a combination of verbal coaxing and physical force, they eventually got the two into their passenger cabin. Then the door closed, and the corridor fell silent.

The students who didn’t know English could only stare, dumbfounded. Having lived abroad for so long, Kaname had understood the entire conversation, but... “All kinds of people on board this ship, huh?” she whispered, then hurried off to find her friend’s room.

24 December, 1855 Hours

Pacific Chrysalis, Near Miura Peninsula, Pacific Ocean

The cruise ship soon left port, and passed through the Uraga Channel on its way out of Tokyo Bay. The sun had already set, and a canvas of stars now hung over the quietly cruising white ship. The students had gathered on the quarterdeck to watch the scenery and enjoy some innocent horseplay. The cold, clear air was refreshing. The waves glittered around them, and the sight of fishing boats and merchant ships passing by were met with great interest.

“Wow. It’s so pretty...” Kyoko said, leaning on the railing as she clicked away with her digital camera. “It doesn’t feel right, though, huh? Not having Sagara-kun here with us...”

“Do we have to talk about that guy?” Kaname asked grumpily.

Kyoko winced at this predictable response. “Guh, typical Kana-chan. But for real... how’s it going?”

“How’s what going?” Kaname replied.

“You and Sagara-kun. Just spill it already! I swear I won’t tell.” She sounded pretty serious, and Kaname had a hard time saying no when asked this directly. Besides, it was hard to keep up her prickly demeanor around her best friend.

“Huh? Um, well...” Kaname said.

“Just say it. Go on.” Behind her thick glasses, Kyoko’s large eyes shone.

Kaname let out a small sigh, then gave up and admitted the truth. “I like him okay, I guess. But... there’s really nothing between us.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. We’ve had a few close calls, but that’s really it,” she insisted. “I mean, can’t you tell? Today’s my birthday... and he’s off with someone else.”

Sousuke, as promised, had skipped the trip. Everyone in the class teased him the day before, “Aw, but you said you’d handle security!”

To this, he had responded with utmost gravity, “I’m afraid I have an irreconcilable conflict.” But then, he’d offered this advice: “If a seajacking does occur, don’t resist. As long as you’re peaceful, the terrorists won’t hurt you. Understand? Just do everything you’re told.” The words seemed pregnant with meaning, but Kaname had just sat in a corner of the classroom, indifferent to the exchange. They were still fighting, after all.

“You’d think he’d come with us, right?” she asked now. “If he were serious about me, he wouldn’t skip out.”

“I see... Well, maybe you’re right,” Kyoko admitted.

“I know I can be stubborn about a lot of things, and I know it’s not right, but I really don’t think he cares about me that much,” Kaname told her friend gloomily.

“Maybe not... or you might just be paranoid.”

“I so am not!” Kaname retorted. “I just think there’s another girl he likes better.”

“Aw, really? Who is it? Anyone I know?” Kyoko suddenly looked extremely curious.

“Yeah. Remember the girl who did a stint at our school, start of second term?”

“Oh, Tessa-chan?” Kyoko asked.

The students of Jindai High School knew Tessa quite well. The Tuatha de Danaan had taken a lot of damage during the Perio incident, which had put it in drydock for several weeks starting from the end of August. Tessa had decided to use that time to take a long vacation... which she’d opted to spend at Jindai High School in Tokyo. Perhaps, Kaname had thought, she’d wanted a taste of ordinary high school life.

Thus, she and Mao had barged their way into Sousuke’s apartment, joined class 2-4 under the pretext of being exchange students on a study abroad, and spent two weeks turning student life upside-down. Obviously, no one had brought up the fact that Tessa was really a colonel with Mithril...

“She’s in Australia now, right?” Kyoko went on. “I guess they’re still in touch? Then the party Sagara-kun went to is...”

“Yeah,” Kaname said. “I think he went to be with her.” That was her assumption based on Wraith’s testimony, at least; Sousuke’s claim about a mission was just an excuse. She sighed as she imagined the grand party probably unfolding on Merida Island right now. All the crew would drink and sing and party, and things would start to get romantic between Sousuke and Tessa, and... Kaname realized her mood was plummeting. “Oh, who cares! Subject closed!” she shouted to the night sky.

“Um, sorry,” Kyoko said awkwardly.

“Hey, it’s not your fault... But c’mon, we’re here, right? Let’s forget that jerk and have fun!” Kaname paused, realizing something. “Actually, you got a watch? How long until the big banquet thing? I’m seriously starving.”

“Didn’t you get a snack from Mayu-chan?”

“It was all gone by the time I got there... ugh.” Just then, she heard a voice address her from behind.

“Excuse me. Chidori Kaname-san?” It was a member of the ship’s crew, a Caucasian man, a little over forty. He had a nicely trimmed beard, and wore a stark white uniform and hat. His posture was ramrod-straight, but he didn’t seem pompous; he had exactly the amount of dignity you’d want to see in the crew of a luxury liner.

“Huh? Yeah?”

“So it is you. I saw you from a distance and wondered... Oh, let me introduce myself,” the crew member said in fluent Japanese, with barely a trace of an accent. “I’m Steven Harris, the ship’s captain. A pleasure.” He comported himself like the proverbial gentleman officer—compared to him, the de Danaan’s senior staff all seemed exceptionally plain.

“The captain?” Kaname and Kyoko said at once. Kaname remembered, now, seeing his face on the pamphlet they’d gotten before they left. She also thought she’d caught sight of him among the crew that had welcomed them on board...

“Um... thank you very much for having us. Could I maybe ask how you know me?” Kaname started with the natural question.

“When we met with your teacher last week, she brought pictures of your class and showed us yours. See? It was the same picture on your ID card.” He pointed to the ID card pinned to her uniform, which had her name and portrait printed on it, just like every other student aboard. “You’re the ‘leading lady’ of the hijacking incident, the one we were all praying for, start to finish. So I was a bit curious to meet you.”

“Ahh, I see...” Kaname said.

“Of course, I didn’t expect you to be so beautiful in person,” Captain Harris went on. “I couldn’t be more pleased. Oh... and your friend is charming too, of course.”

“Thanks. Ahaha...” Kaname and Kyoko both flashed him ingratiating smiles.

“So, what do you think of my ship?” he wanted to know. “Are all your needs being met?”

“Oh, totally! It’s the picture of luxury,” Kaname gushed. “It’s big, it’s beautiful, and the sailing is really smooth.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” Captain Harris told her. “If you need absolutely anything, please let my staff know, and we’ll deal with it at once. You’re an important guest, after all. Yes... a very important guest.”

Kaname froze in silence. His words were perfectly polite, but she couldn’t help sensing something off about them. There was something kind of coaxing... almost wheedling about his tone. The captain’s eyes were those of a man gazing at prey in a cage and asking, “Now, what shall I do with you?” What is it about him that makes me think that? she wondered.

“Kana-chan?” Kyoko said.

“Huh?”

“You drifted off for a minute. What’s up?”

Nothing. You’re overthinking it. Just jumping at shadows, Kaname told herself, then gave an awkward laugh. “Oh, it’s nothing. Um... we appreciate it, Captain.”

“Well, then, I hope you have a fine stay. Enjoy your voyage.” Captain Harris said, and then left them behind.

“Whew...” Kaname and Kyoko exhaled after they watched him leave.

“Boy, talk about nerve-wracking...” Kaname muttered.

“Yeah,” Kyoko agreed. “He’s really handsome, though, right? Strength and elegance in one. Major ‘captain’ vibes.”

“Yeah, true. Totally different from another captain I know.”

“Huh?”

“Oh, nothing,” Kaname said dismissively. Just then, they heard a clamor in the distance.

Captain Harris had been heading back into the ship when a female cabin crew member had bumped into him, then tripped, and turned over a mop and bucket. “Sorry, sorry...” the crew member apologized fervently. She wore a frilly skirt accented by a white apron, black tights, and a hard plastic headband over her hair. Ash blonde hair, done in a neat braid... Kaname thought, but she couldn’t see the girl’s face from her current position.

They were too far away to hear the conversation, but Captain Harris seemed to chide the petite crew member, who bowed emphatically back to him. Then she picked up the cleaning implements, ran towards the prow in a panic... then tripped and fell spectacularly again. Kaname watched the scene unfold, her suspicions churning.

“What the heck. What a clumsy maid...” Kyoko muttered.

Meanwhile, Kaname’s suspicion grew to a near surety, and she found cold sweat rising on her back. There’s no way. I mean... what would she be doing on this ship?

That wouldn’t be the only suspicious sight she would see. It had gotten cold outside, so the girls went back in to tour the various on-board facilities. In the corridor in front of the bar lounge, she saw a young bartender hitting on a group of female students. He was a handsome young man with long blond hair tied in a tail, and thin-rimmed glasses over his blue eyes. The pretty boy was speaking in fluent Japanese, “—Yeah, I mean it! I was raised in Edogawa, Tokyo. I know a great soba place, so if you just give me your phone number, I’ll call you when I’m off work.”

“Aw, c’mon...” the girl giggled noncommittally.

“Hey, new blood! Don’t hit on the passengers!”

“Ah... fine, fine,” the young bartender muttered, the veteran crew member’s scolding returning him to the work at hand.

As she watched him walk away, Kyoko whispered, “There’s something weirdly familiar about that guy...”

“R-Really?” Kaname asked, her tone growing more and more awkward. “You’re sure you’re not imagining it? Most foreigners look alike, anyway. N-Now, let’s go somewhere else...” They walked for a while and peeked into a casino hall. They’d only just left port, but the passengers with a mind to gamble were already gathered around the roulette wheel.

The dealer was a beautiful East Asian woman. She looked to be in her mid-20s, with a slender face and short black hair. She was wearing glasses, too.

“Okay, place your bets! Place your bets and no regrets!” she sang out. “Place ’em fast or your time has passed!” It felt less like roulette and more like a period drama’s game of odds-and-evens, but most of the customers were laughing and placing their chips on the board nonetheless.

“I feel like I’ve seen her before, too...” Kyoko said.

Paralyzed, Kaname just responded, “L-Let’s go.” She didn’t know what else to say. What’s going on on this ship? she wondered. Maybe after she and Kyoko parted ways, she’d pull one of them aside and give them a full grilling. Yeah, that’s what I’ll have to do...

But just as they left the casino and she’d made up her mind, their homeroom teacher, Kagurazaka Eri, came running up to them. “Hey, you two! Didn’t you hear the announcement? It’s time for dinner! All Jindai students, meet up in the grand ballroom!”

Kaname suddenly realized that the students and passengers who’d previously been swarming the ship’s halls were now nowhere to be seen. “R-Right...” No choice, she decided, following after Kyoko and Eri, to head for the grand ballroom where the banquet would be held. The grilling would have to wait.

After his personal greeting to Kaname, Captain Harris spent a little time looking around, making sure everything was ship-shape. It was, of course; this was his ship, and he was very scrupulous about safety.

He didn’t want any problems or malfunctions happening here... especially tonight, with such an important event coming up...

“Captain.” The engine room chief caught up with Harris in the hallway. He was Colombian, just past forty, with a black beard. “Señor, that Japanese girl you spoke with; was that her?”

“Yes,” Captain Harris confirmed.

“When do we take her to the vault?” the engineer wanted to know.

“Late at night, I think. Wait until all the children are asleep.”

“You think she’ll come quietly?”

“Of course she will. We’ll have all her school friends hostage, after all.” The corners of Captain Harris’s mouth turned up. “We’ll throw her four-eyed friend off the side first, to make a point. That should bring her into line.”

“The ocean’s very cold in December, yes,” the engineer observed.

“It’s such a tragedy when people fall overboard,” Captain Harris continued. “On Christmas Eve, Chidori Kaname and her friend will go missing.”

“What about those people—Mithril?”

“We’ve already left port. They can’t touch us,” Captain Harris predicted. “This will make Mr. Gold happy, and I’ll regain my standing with the organization.”

It had reached the time for him to give his speech at the banquet—an annoying ritual, but it was part of his job. Harris straightened his tie and began walking towards the grand ballroom.

The grand ballroom, where the Jindai High students were gathered, was about the size of a school gymnasium. Lines of huge tables filled the cavernous space, covered in a feast stacked high on silver platters. Fragrantly spiced meat; mountains of seafood in wide varieties; whole roast turkey and roast beef that sparkled like amber; lobster halves glistening with juice. The dinner was buffet-style, and every bit of it was all-you-can-eat. The other passengers were apparently eating in other halls, with this space reserved for those related to and serving the students of Jindai High. Most of the students’ dining-out experiences were limited to hamburgers, gyudon, ramen, and soba, so naturally, the anticipation had them on the verge of tears.

“Not yet!” the principal rebuked them, as the drooling students prepared to leap at the food. She was standing on the ballroom stage, gripping the microphone and glaring at them. “We must hear the captain’s opening remarks first! Listen to me, everyone. I told you before we boarded: Do not embarrass Jindai High School! There are other passengers on board, you know. Be discreet, and do not cause any trouble. Remember how you all spent the hijacking playing card games and bothering the stewardesses, and it was in all the magazines later?! I mean, your ideas about appropriate behavior are simply—” Principal Tsuboi continued to lecture them for what turned out to be a little over three minutes. “...That is all. Do I make myself clear?!”

The hundreds of students responded with an unusually forceful, “Yes, ma’am!” Their eyes glinted as if to say, “We get it, so let us eat!”

“Good,” Principal Tsuboi finished grimly. “Then let’s have a few words from the captain of the Pacific Chrysalis. Give him a round of applause, everyone!”

The bearded captain strode up onto the stage. The students gave him a rockstar welcome, clapping and whistling.

“Students of Jindai High. Thank you for your great patience. I’m the ship’s captain, Steven Harris,” he said into the microphone. The students were impressed by his fluent Japanese. “Welcome to the Pacific Chrysalis. I’m so honored that you all accepted my invitation. I understand your last field trip turned out to be quite an ordeal...” He cleared his throat once for effect. “But don’t worry. I promise, there are no terrorists on board my ship.”

The students laughed.

“Better not be!” one of them called out.

“Appreciate it, Captain!”

“Not like that would happen to us twice, right?”

After allowing the students to settle down, Harris continued. “I appreciate the confidence, but I want you to know that I’m serious. Bringing smiles to my passengers is my number one priority. I take pride in guaranteeing you a perfectly safe and pleasant voyage, so please know that my crew will do everything in their power to... hm?”

Harris paused in confusion as one of the servers climbed up onto the stage. He was dressed in the standard black-vest-and-bow-tie uniform, but for some reason, he was also wearing a face-covering balaclava, and carrying a shotgun.

“Er...?” Captain Harris ventured, unsure of what was going on. With several hundred people watching, the man pointed the shotgun at the ceiling, and fired off a shot. With exclamations of surprise, Harris, the principal, and all of the students froze.

“Nobody move!” the man proclaimed. He had some kind of device attached to his throat that made his voice low and raspy. A familiar, tight frown was visible beneath his face-covering mask. “Second-year students of Jindai High School,” he continued. “Listen to me closely. We are a ruthless terrorist organization known as the Determined Revolutionaries. This symbol of the imperialistic exploitation class, the Pacific Chrysalis, is now under our control!”

His statement was followed by a long, long silence. Then...

“Again?!” The students shouted in unison.

The masked man responded indifferently to their shared heartfelt groan. “Unfortunately, yes. Control of this ship is now in the hands of...” The man looked up at the ceiling. “Ahh... Control of this ship is now in the hands of...” He then looked to the foot of the stage, as if seeking assistance.

A bartender, who had arrived at some point holding a rifle, whispered something back to the man. He was similarly masked, but bits of blond hair could be seen sticking out here and there from his hood.

“Ah... that’s right,” the first terrorist continued uncertainly. “Control of the ship is now in the hands of, er, the Discriminating Red Army.”

“That’s not the name he gave before...” someone observed.

“Hey, I think he’s struggling a little...”

“I’m not sure he knows what he’s doing...”

While students whispered to each other, the terrorist looked down, and took another deep breath. “The point is, we’re cold-hearted terrorists who will gladly kill anyone, even women or children. Resistance means death! I’m sorry to say that my shotgun only contains rubber bullets, but anyone who resists will be shot until they cry uncle and—”

“No! Real bullets!” the masked blond man hissed to him.

“That’s right,” the first man agreed, without skipping a beat. “Deadly slugs. One hit will prove lethal; I’m not lying.” Then, he pointed to the doors. “Naturally, you won’t be allowed to leave this ballroom. Look!”

The students turned around and, as expected, saw an array of armed, masked terrorists blocking the ways to the corridor and the kitchen. Most of them were men dressed as cleaning staff and servers, but for some reason, there was a petite woman among them. She had ash blonde hair, and was dressed in a maid’s uniform, carrying a submachine gun. The lower half of her face was hidden by a scarf, the top half by RayBan sunglasses.

“Those people are all highly skilled, trained in Libyan terrorist camps,” the first terrorist told them. “Don’t even think about trying to fight them unarmed.” The terrorists blocking the exits all took an imposing step forward. The masked maid attempted to do the same, but she tripped over her high heels and face planted on the spot.

“Colonel?!” the first terrorist shouted in alarm.

The masked maid picked herself up unsteadily, then proudly but weakly hefted up her submachine gun as if to say, “I’m fine.” An awkward silence followed.

The terrorist cleared his throat, then continued. “Anyway, that’s the situation. Now, Captain Harris, please come with us. As murderous terrorists, we have some negotiations to run down with you. Hmm? What is it?”

Harris was staring, dumbfounded, and the terrorist followed his gaze. Chidori Kaname was stalking up the stairs towards the podium.

“Stop, woman. Stop, or I’ll shoot.” The terrorist pointed his shotgun at Kaname.

She didn’t stop.

“I told you to stop,” he tried again.

Kaname still didn’t stop.

“Your foolhardiness will be your undoing. Obey, or see your friends and teachers blasted into—”

Wham! A right straight punch from Kaname sent the terrorist slamming to the floor. The microphone went flying, and crashed to the stage with a deafening screech of feedback.

“You know, Sousuke, you are really something else...” For better or worse, the mike didn’t pick up her voice. Kaname lifted the ‘terrorist’ up by the lapels. “Now, come with me,” she finished ominously.

“Wait... Chidori! I can explain—”

“Just come with me!”

“Listen to me!” Sousuke begged.

“What part of ‘come with me’ don’t you understand?!” Kaname snarled, stalking off the stage, half-dragging the terrorist with her. For some reason, his allies didn’t try to stop it. They actually looked a bit abashed about the situation, which is why the terrorist guarding the ballroom doors simply withered beneath her glare and stepped aside. The door slammed closed behind them, and silence returned.

A buzz of whispers started among the Jindai High students.

“K-Kaname-chan...”

“Not even terrorists scare her...”

“She’s so brave...”

“I’m so impressed, Chidori-san!”

“I think she’s just touchy because she’s hungry.”

“But there was something familiar about that dynamic...”

As the conversations continued, another terrorist took to the stage. This time it was a tall woman, dressed as a casino dealer with a checkered vest, a bowtie, and a tight, knee-length skirt. She was wearing large sunglasses, and carrying a famous German-made submachine gun on a strap over her shoulder. “Sorry about that,” she said with an awkward laugh. “Um, so, anyway, you’re all going to stay here in this hall. That girl had gotten pretty worked up, so our colleague escorted her to the infirmary.” It looked a lot more like it was Kaname who had dragged the terrorist away, but the woman sounded confident in her version of events.

“Fortunately, you’ve all had experience as hostages, so I won’t waste time with all the dos and don’ts,” she continued. “Just find ways to kill time like you did last time—You’ll be back home safe tomorrow.”

“I feel like I’ve heard that voice somewhere before...” Kyoko muttered to herself.

“So, um... any requests?” the terrorist asked. “We’re happy to indulge, within reason.”

“Excuse me, but we’re really hungry!” one of the students ended up shouting.

“Ah, that’s right. Sorry about that—Go ahead and eat,” she told them. “I’ll check back in later.” While the students rushed for the mountains of food, the terrorists walked off the stage with the pale-faced captain in tow.

1930 Hours

Bridge, Pacific Chrysalis

Those Mithril squad members who had infiltrated the ship as employees, and those who had landed in the ECS-camouflaged helicopter—a little over thirty in all—had broken into teams of three or four to swiftly lock down the ship. The machinery room and the crew cabins, the entertainment facilities, the communications infrastructure and temperature control systems, the storage rooms and the pantries... The simple presence of guns was enough to intimidate most of the crew and passengers into total submission. Each team precisely reported the number of hostages they’d taken, then gave an overview of their current status to their commander, Lieutenant Clouseau.

Clouseau was currently on the bridge of the Pacific Chrysalis; he’d entered with two other PRT (primary response team) members a few minutes earlier. The navigator, pilot, and other on-duty crew surrendered immediately in the face of their rubber bullet guns. Clouseau wasn’t happy about putting innocent people at gunpoint, but those were his orders; he’d had no say in the matter.

“Uruz-8 here. Area D4 secured, 32 hostages. Zero casualties.”

“Uruz-5. Area A8 secured, 18 hostages, zero casualties. No resistance.”

“Uruz-8. C-1 secured, uninhabited, zero casualties. Heading for C3 next.”

Zero casualties, zero casualties, zero casualties... One of the PRT soldiers plugged the information into a nearby laptop as the reports came in. Most of the passengers and crew on the ship were already secured.

“Uruz-9 here. D13 secured, three hostages taken. Zero casualties. We did meet slight resistance.”

Clouseau heard the report of Uruz-9, Corporal Yang, over the radio. “Uruz-1 to Uruz-9. What constitutes ‘slight resistance’? Explain.”

“A cleaning lady threw a mop at me,” Corporal Yang replied. “Now, she’s giving me an earful.”

Clouseau said nothing. When he listened closely, he could just hear a middle-aged woman’s voice through the receiver, shouting things like “for shame!” and “get a real job!” He closed his eyes, a vein throbbing in his forehead. “We’re terrorists,” he reminded his subordinate. “You don’t have to listen to her.”

“But she’s right,” Corporal Yang said guiltily. “It’s not right to threaten people with guns, even if we do have a good reason. She’s saying, ‘remember the faces of your family back home, remember Christmas as a kid,’ talking about home-cooked meals around the family table... She’s got my team all tearing up and questioning their life choices.” Yang’s voice was cracking a bit too.

“Well, don’t start bawling, now,” Clouseau ordered. “I’m unhappy about this as it is.”

“Sorry, Lieutenant. But it just doesn’t feel right, doing terrorism on Christmas... It’s a day when the whole world should be happy, you know? I’m missing my mom’s cheesecake.”

“Just secure your other assigned areas as quickly as you can,” Clouseau told him. “Got it?!”

“Uruz-9, roger...”

“Heaven’s sake,” Clouseau muttered after turning off the radio. “I know why we’re doing it, but this plan is still absurd...”

But why were they doing it?

If not for Gauron giving them the keyword “badame,” they’d have never suspected this cruise ship. Mithril’s intelligence division had investigated it in advance and given it the green light, but it seemed they’d been wrong to do so. There was something more to this ship, and the invitation extended to Jindai High School had simply been a trap set by Amalgam, or by someone involved with them. This operation was their squad’s way of getting the drop on them.

The mission was to be carried out almost entirely independently. They hadn’t told the intelligence division, naturally, but they also hadn’t told most of the operations HQ staff that the Tuatha de Danaan was going to take control of the cruise ship. They leaked different information to different departments, so by watching how Amalgam responded, they might also expose any moles in their ranks.

They still didn’t know exactly what the ship was hiding; that’s what they were here to find out. This plan would let them ensure the safety of the students and Chidori Kaname, while also letting them investigate a suspicious section of the ship. As a way to strike back at the enemy when they least expected it, the plan made perfect sense.

Clouseau hadn’t initially been much in favor of the plan that Sagara Sousuke and Kurz Weber had concocted. He and the de Danaan’s XO, Lieutenant Colonel Mardukas, were against the seajacking from start to finish, finding it “ludicrous” and “irrational.” But in the end, Colonel Testarossa and Major Kalinin steamrolled them by way of passive assent.

I’m a first lieutenant, after all. I’m close to being promoted to captain. It’s about time I started learning to play politics, he’d decided. After all, they trained daily for dealing with this kind of terrorism, so they knew how to play the other side of it, but...

“Though Lieutenant, I have to say, it’s fun to get to play the terrorists for once. Great way to relieve stress,” one of the PRT sergeants said happily, his submachine gun pointed at the navigator.

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that,” Clouseau said with a disgruntled expression. “And call me by my call sign in front of the hostages.” It was then that he got a report in from Mao, who’d been sent to secure the grand ballroom and surrounding area. “Uruz-1 here,” he began.

“Uruz-2, reporting in,” Mao told him. “First hall secured. We have 324 hostages including students and teachers, as well as 28 kitchen staff, including the cooks. Zero casualties. I decided to let them eat their dinner for now. We’ve also taken the captain into custody.”

“Roger,” Clouseau replied. “How is Ansuz doing?” ‘Ansuz’ was the call sign for the commander-in-chief of the Tuatha de Danaan battle group, Colonel Teletha Testarossa. It was only used during maneuvers in which she was outside of the submarine.

“She left the ballroom after Uruz-7 and Angel,” Mao told him.

Hearing that, Clouseau scowled. “Angel left the hall? I thought she was going to lay low with the other students.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll call them back soon,” Mao said reassuringly. “How are the other teams doing?”

“They’re about 80% finished,” Clouseau told her. “Zero casualties. We took the machinery room earlier and hijacked their communications systems. Some of the crew were apparently armed, and we did meet some minor resistance from them.”

No ordinary cruise ship would have armed security on board; those people must be soldiers in cahoots with the enemy, which meant they really were guarding something important.

“I see,” Mao observed. “So, should we continue as planned with the captain?”

“Yes, take him in,” Clouseau decided. “And... be gentle.”

Kaname walked swiftly, away from the ballroom full of students triumphantly tearing into their feast. When she finally reached an unoccupied smoking area, she gave Sousuke a hard kick in the rear.

“What are you doing?” he complained.

“Shut the hell up!!” she screamed at him. “It’s fine if you didn’t want to come on the trip! I don’t care if you have a party at your base, either! And I won’t ask what kind of dirty business you people get up to all day... But now you’re attacking our school? Seriously?!”

“Well, we’re not exactly attacking your school—”

“Like hell! And take off that mask, you...!”

“Ah... don’t pull it so hard,” he begged. “It hurts...”

Kaname yanked the balaclava off of the struggling Sousuke. “What the hell were you thinking?! Explain yourself!”

“Wait a minute, Chidori. Didn’t you read the emails I sent you?”

“Uh... well, actually...” Kaname hesitated. Things between her and Sousuke had been so strained lately that she’d deleted everything he’d sent her without a second glance.

“I wanted to tell you what was about to happen. But you wouldn’t let me speak to you, so—”

“F-Forget the emails!” One of Kaname’s deepest character flaws was her inability to just admit fault and apologize at times like these. “Th-There’s nothing you could say that could make seajacking okay! I thought you were the guys who fought terrorists! This makes no sense!”

That was when she heard a new voice just behind her. “Untrue. It makes perfect sense.” Rushing towards her now was the masked, ash blonde, submachine gun-wielding maid. In a way, her appearance was far more disturbing than that of a normal terrorist.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Kaname asked, slumping over.

In response, the masked maid—Tessa—smiled confidently. “Heh heh heh... I’m the brilliant leader of the Highly Discriminating Liberation Front, AKA, the HDLF.”

“That’s not what he called it before,” Kaname pointed out.

“Never mind that! The point is, I am the very evil leader of a highly-experienced terrorist cell. We spare neither women nor children!” With that, Tessa made a ‘pow-pow’ shooting motion with her gun.

“You’re the child here. See?” Kaname snatched the sunglasses off the other girl’s face.

“Ah! P-Please give those back...” With her face now uncovered, Tessa’s saucer-like eyes filled with tears, and she started flailing in panic. Feeling she’d proved her point, Kaname returned the sunglasses, and the other girl breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank goodness. These tough-guy glasses are the only thing keeping me from breaking under my guilty conscience...”

“Or you could just not commit terrorism?!” Kaname demanded irritably.

Tessa looked crestfallen. “You’re right... But this seemed like the safest and most reliable option. I truly am sorry for the fear and inconvenience we’ve caused the passengers. Putting on these sunglasses and comporting myself like a gang leader is the only way that I can maintain psychological balance...”

Kaname watched her skeptically for a moment, then said, “Gimme,” and snatched away her sunglasses again.

“Ahh... G-Give those back! Without those, I... I...” Tessa looked like she might cry.

“This is really hard on you, huh?”

“That’s what I’m telling you!”

“Chidori, stop,” Sousuke ordered. “Give them back to her.”

Sousuke’s chiding caused Kaname’s temper to flare anew. “Ngh... What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Give them back!”

“No way. Hmph!”

“You’re distressing the colonel! And I’ve been trying to explain things to you.”

“Explain better, then!”

Sousuke shook his head, exhausted by her continued hostility. “Enough, Chidori. Your hard-headedness has exceeded rational limits this time.”

“Well, excuse me!” she retorted. “I am an annoying brat who never listens, after all!”

“That isn’t what I said,” he told her placatingly. “I just don’t understand why you always—”

“Give them back!” Tessa tried again.

“Oh, you shut up, too!” Kaname snarled.

“Just give them back to her and listen to me!” Sousuke said.

“Don’t order me around! This is such typical you!”

“Because you’re always so stubborn!”

“So are you!” Kaname replied. “You always act like you’re the one in charge! Who do you think you are? I think—”

“Just give them back to her!”

Kaname was unmovable, Sousuke was annoyed, and Tessa was panicking. Nothing was being achieved at all. That’s when a new voice joined in over the din.

“Enough already!!” It was Mao. She was heading toward them, prodding along the captured Captain Harris with the muzzle of her submachine gun. This scolding from a fourth party brought all three to silence.

“Yeesh... What’s all this damned yelling about?” Mao demanded to know. “Also, Sousuke! Why is Kaname mad at you? You told her what the deal was, right?”

“Er... affirmative,” he hedged.

“This is such a big mess. I managed to feed an excuse to the other students, but it’s probably going to make her look really bad! This was your idea, remember? So it was up to you to get it done right,” Mao lectured. “Take responsibility and see your mission through, Sergeant!”

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m afraid I’ll have to write this up in my report,” Mao sighed.

“Acceptable. It was my mistake,” Sousuke admitted freely, without saying one negative word about Kaname. His behavior now was entirely noble, in a total reversal from his earlier bickering.

It inspired a pang of conscience in Kaname. Really, if he were the kind of man who would have blamed this on her, she wouldn’t get so stubborn and bothered about it at all. Ironically, it was his straight-shooting nature that made it harder for her to be forthright.

“Well, it’s fine,” Mao decided. “But I’d better get you an explanation. Follow me, Kaname.”

“Huh? Where to?”

“The vault. Isn’t that right, Captain?” Mao said with a grin to Captain Harris, who was standing in front of them. The man kept his eyes pointed down, his face pale and drawn.

“Um, Captain?” Kaname asked. As the captain of a seajacked ship, she would have thought he’d want to say something to a passenger like herself—reassure her, maybe. But instead, he just glared silently at her, without a single sympathetic word.

Just before the seajacking occurred...

Commander Killy B. Sailor of the nuclear submarine Pasadena—part of the United States Navy’s SUBPAC—was standing in the cruise ship’s telephone area. Most of the passengers had already moved to the dining halls, which meant he was alone.

Sailor, who had come to Japan for Christmas break, was locked in an argument with his wife, who had just gone home to California.

“...Darn it! I call in to check on you, and this is what I get?! Well, I... you idiot, I keep telling you! I had a mission! But I worked hard to get home the night before the trip to Japan, and... shut up! Huh? Then what was I supposed to do?! Are you saying I should go up to the subordinates and engineers working up all night to fix a problem in the machinery room and say, ‘My wife’s mad at me, so I’m leaving’?! You think I can— what was that?! You mean you and that kid Smith... aha! I see! Well, I’m having a nice time, too! With a real hot little number! ...Shut up, Takenaka’s in Hawaii!” Commander Sailor shouted into the receiver.

The man had black hair in a crew cut and blue eyes, prominent features, high eyebrows, and a square forehead; in other words, he was the quintessential bodybuilder-type. He had the physique to match, too, with a body like some macho man Hollywood star. He was feeling distinctly out of shape lately, but for some reason, he’d developed no extra flab around his waist. It was probably a genetic thing, just the way his body was made. Most people meeting him for the first time, when they heard he was in the military, assumed he was Army, and he hated it.

Commander Sailor went on shouting at his wife, who was nattering on hysterically on the other end of the satellite line. “Oh, shut up! Stop shouting about everything! The Navy is my life! If you don’t like that... Fine, sounds great! Go suck that asshole off! It’s not like you’re— hello? Are you listening?!” Sailor tapped the receiver as her voice cut off. “Hey, Eliza! If that’s the way you want it...” He scowled suddenly, questioning. There was no sound from the phone at all, not even static. She’d hung up on him.

“Well, screw her!” He slammed the receiver down and was about to curse again... but instead, he just sighed. There was nothing to be done, then. His marriage was over. This trip had been a last-ditch effort to salvage things, but even that had blown up in his face.

Ah, well. He’d paid a lot of money to come here, so he might as well enjoy it. After composing himself, Sailor decided to return to his table where a delicious banquet awaited him.

That’s when something strange happened: a gunshot rang out from the ballroom. It was followed immediately by screams from passengers, and other sounds of commotion—dishes falling from tables, overturned carts, the barking of commands...

There was no question—that was a gunshot. A submachine gun? An assault rifle, maybe...

Commander Sailor looked around, panicked. Could it be... a seajacking? He could hear swift footsteps approaching from just ahead, on the other side of the double doors. The terrorists were coming his way. He was the only one in the corridor; beside him was the women’s bathroom. He burst through the door, and heard the terrorists’ footsteps fly into the hall a second later, right where he had been. They’d be checking the bathroom soon, too. He had to find somewhere to hide!

There was a maintenance door at the end of the row of stalls, probably for maintaining the pipes that ran up and down the ship. The mechanical workings that would have been exposed on a submarine were hidden behind wooden walls on this cruise ship. Sailor opened the door, stepped into the wall, and hid behind the thick pipes within. It was a close call; the men came barging in an instant later. They were checking the stalls one by one, their movements swift and sharp.

Sailor held his breath.

After making sure the stalls were empty, they finally opened the maintenance door to Sailor’s hiding place. A flashlight’s beam searched here and there around him. His breathing and heartbeat sounded deafening to his ears. But while he stood there, trying to hold his silence behind the complex network of pipes, the terrorist spoke up, reporting to someone on the radio: “Kaun-23. E10 secured. No one here. Zero casualties. Moving on to E12.”

The maintenance door slammed shut, and the footsteps departed just as quickly as they’d come. There was no idle chatter; as far as Sailor could tell, these men were very well trained.

Silence returned. After savoring a moment’s relief, Sailor came back out into the bathroom. Shoulders heaving, he put his hands on the sink and stared into the mirror. “Think!” he chided his reflection. “Think, goddamn you!”

The only reason he hadn’t fallen to pieces or started weeping from fear was because he’d been through tight scrapes before, even if they had been in a totally different setting. He’d spent half of his life in a submarine, and he’d had a few near-death experiences. And even if most of it had come about accidentally, he had combat experience, too. It wasn’t commonly known, but very few serving submarine captains had actually fired torpedoes at an enemy; maybe only ten in the whole world. Captain Sailor of the Pasadena was one of those few.

That’s right, he reminded himself. I’m a veteran. I’m an old sea dog, ready to do what needs to be done. The radio call the terrorist had put in earlier... Kaun-23, he’d called himself. He didn’t know exactly what the call sign meant, but it was worth assuming they were dealing with a large enemy force. However...!!

“Like hell I’m dying here!” he whispered to the bathroom mirror. Now, think. Remember your Hollywood movies. People who do hijackings and things on Christmas always end up stopped by some hero who happens to be there.

That’s right. A hero. Couldn’t the hero, in this case, be storied submarine captain Killy B. Sailor, coming here on a break to deal with his marital problems?! “Yeah, that’s right,” Commander Sailor told himself. “That’s what it’s gotta be!!” He could feel himself regaining his spirit.

That’s just what this is, he realized. Tonight is my night! A great adventure, full of thrilling fights to get the blood flowing! A romance with a beautiful leading lady! A showdown with a despicable enemy! My problems with my wife, Eliza, will seem trivial! This was getting better all the time, really. The big boss will probably be cold, emotionless, and handsome, probably someone out of the Navy, just like me. The girl will be a passenger on the ship, an exotic dark-haired 20-something. And XO Takenaka, who came on board with me... well, he’s probably the guy who gets shot by the terrorists in the action.

“Takenaka. Poor guy...” Commander Sailor let out a pained sigh. After convincing himself that his subordinate was as good as dead, Sailor moved into action. “But don’t worry, Takenaka. I will avenge you! I’ll let my rage over your death fuel me into a table-turning counterattack about sixty minutes in!”

First, he had to find a weapon. He’d start with a mop, clear out some weak enemies, then get a pistol, he decided. Next on the docket would be a machine gun. Sailor could almost see the medal of honor he’d get for all this. Get ready to die, you damned terrorists!

2021 Hours

In front of the vault, Pacific Chrysalis

“So? What’s so special about the vault?” Kaname asked Sousuke and the others.

They were in the bowels of the ship now, a corridor tucked away in a section near the machinery room. The vault was at the end of a hallway, and Kaname and the others had stopped in front of the door, which was made of a thick special alloy. Cruise ships similar to this one were frequently home to large storage areas like this, designed to safely hold precious jewelry, valuables, and works of art that the passengers had brought on board. In a ship of this size, it was almost the size of a bank vault.

“Don’t tell me you came here to rob the place...” she muttered.

“That’s exactly what we did,” Mao said casually, then beckoned behind her. “All right, Captain. Step right up.” Sousuke prodded him in the back, and Captain Harris moved in front of the safe door. His expression was tortured. “Open it for us?”

“No,” Captain Harris protested. “There’s nothing for you terrorists here in our vault. You think you can get away with this? Touch one hair on my precious passengers’ heads and you’ll pay!”

“Uh-huh,” Mao said with a smirk, and brandished her gun. “Cut the act already.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Last October, this ship underwent a refitting at the Shin-Kurusu shipyards,” Mao said. “There’s nothing about it in the documentation, but it seems like they messed around with some things around the vault, here: adding more to the area by cutting into the space reserved for fuel tanks, making the bulkheads more durable... way beyond what a normal passenger ship could possibly need.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Captain Harris denied.

“And even though it hurt efficiency, you swapped out the workers daily,” Mao went on. “Was it so they wouldn’t realize what they were doing?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. The upgrades we ran last year were just about modernizing our fire prevention systems,” Captain Harris insisted staunchly. “Besides, I’m just an employee of the cruise company. I don’t have any control over ship alterations.”

“Not in any public capacity, no,” Mao agreed. “But there’s no way that you, as Captain, didn’t know about the armed guards, or about this section of the ship, right?”

The man remained silent.

“And we know that your company’s bigwigs got a big payoff from someone. There’s no paper trail connecting you to the foundation in question, but money can always be traced.”

It was like a scene from a crime drama. Mao was the detective, and Harris was the culprit—which would make Kaname a random audience member struggling to follow along. “What are you talking about?” she asked.

Mao shrugged in response. “I think whatever’s in this vault is a lot more valuable than smuggled goods,” she said. “Probably something important to Amalgam...”

Harris’s shoulders tensed up.

“See? Written all over his face.” Mao grinned. “And then there’s the way you looked at Kaname earlier... You don’t really think of her as one of your ‘precious passengers,’ do you? It’s almost as if you knew about her ahead of time.”

Harris said nothing, his face now white as a sheet. His fingers and jaw were trembling, his eyes were opened wide, and sweat had begun to bead across his forehead and neck.

“I think you know by now, don’t you? Who we are...” Sousuke, who had previously been silent, now spoke up solemnly. “Sunan, Ariake, Perio, Hong Kong... You’ve always had us playing defense, but we’ve finally regained the initiative. Accept that, and cooperate.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t know anything. This is all ludicrous,” Harris whispered, after emitting a deep sigh. Then, a split-second later, he was moving, throwing himself at the unsuspecting Kaname. He was holding a small knife in one hand, which he must have smuggled in under his uniform hat.

Frozen, Kaname felt her mouth drop open. He reached for her collar, but Sousuke was faster. He knocked Harris’s arm aside with his shotgun’s stock, then plunged a fist hard into his exposed solar plexus. Harris let out a grunt, then collapsed to his knees.

Sousuke then kicked him in the face, which sent him into a crumpled, coughing heap. “This is who this man really is,” he declared. On his hands and knees, Harris let out a whine. Even Kaname, who was always kicking Sousuke around, was stunned by this barbaric treatment.

“Boy, what a sad way to show your true colors,” Mao lamented with a shrug. “Thought you could take her hostage, huh? Too bad. Guess the jig is up on your gentleman act.”

“That’s right,” Sousuke agreed. “It was your actions that were truly ludicrous.”

“Ugh...” Harris groaned.

Sousuke knelt down in front of the man. “I can imagine why you would want to get my school involved. You thought you could use our students as hostages to force Chidori to do something, correct?” He must have been right, because Harris gritted his teeth and glared at his captors.

“But remember this...” Sousuke grabbed him by the collar and pulled him in close, pointing the knife he’d stolen at Harris’s neck. “If you lay one finger on anyone from this school—not just Chidori—I will personally skin you alive and watch you bleed to death,” he promised solemnly. “Do you understand? I will subject you to pain and despair beyond your wildest imaginings. Don’t assume Mithril is some naive band of do-gooders. We know exactly how you people do things, too. Don’t forget that.”

Harris remained silent, his face ashen from fear.

Perhaps detecting the deadly aura radiating from Sousuke, Tessa squirmed nervously. “Sagara-san is rather frightening...” she observed.

“He is being weirdly intense...” Kaname agreed.

“Hunger must be making him cranky...” Tessa suggested in response.

“Yeah, he does seem a little pissier than usual...”

The whispered conversation was occurring right next to Sousuke, and his eyebrow twitched as he overheard them. “Chidori,” he said at last. “I am currently attempting to intimidate a hostage. Would you please be quiet?”

His request caused Kaname to snap again. Puffing out her cheeks, she said, “Why am I the only one you chewed out?”

“What? W-well, I—”

“She’s exactly right! You must discard your biases and scold me as well!” Tessa interrupted.

“Why should I—”

“You’re always on eggshells around me, Sagara-san!”

“That’s not the problem, is it?!” Sousuke demanded in exasperation.

“It is the problem!” Tessa insisted. “You always do it! Why am I always the one left out?”

“You know, Tessa—”

“Would you two please—”

As the three-way yelling started up again, Mao pulled a handgun from under her vest, then silently fired it into the ceiling. There was an ear-splitting clang, and dust sprinkled down on them. Silence reigned again as Mao returned her handgun to its holster and cleared her throat. “Look, you three. This conversation is going nowhere.”

“Right...” Kaname and Tessa responded in unison.

“Anyway, Captain,” Mao continued. “Please open the safe.”

“What? But I can’t open it...” Tessa protested.

“Not you, Captain! The other captain!” Mao fumed.

Tessa just tapped her fingers together meekly. “Oh... I was only... joking.”

“Sheesh...” Mao muttered, mussing up her hair to express her frustration. Kaname and Tessa decided to move a little distance away, to avoid another deflation of the needed intensity, as she and Sousuke resumed their attempts to intimidate Harris.

“Anyway, open it, please,” Mao said as she dragged Captain Harris over and sat him in front of the vault’s console.

“I... I can’t. I can’t open it,” Harris said, looking flustered as he read the screen display.

“Come on,” Mao scoffed. “Cut out the stall tactics, would you?”

“It’s true, though!” Harris insisted. “The safe’s electromagnetic lock has already switched to emergency mode. It won’t accept my passcode.”

“Oh, really? I guess I’ll have to drag it out of you, then.” Mao pointed her submachine gun’s muzzle at Harris’s right knee. “I won’t kill you right away; we’ll start with a little warning shot. Right, Sousuke?”

“That does seem appropriate,” he agreed.

“I’ll count to three.”

Harris panicked and cowered. “P-Please believe me. I’m not—”

“One.”

“I’m not lying. Once it’s in this mode—”

“Two.”

“L-Listen to me! There’s nothing I can do to open—”

“Three.”

As Harris desperately protested, Mao fired three muffled gunshots at his knee. Harris let out a falsetto scream and fell onto his backside. “Ahhh! Ah! Ahh! Did you shoot me?! You stupid bitch!”

“Now, the left one,” she decided, and began to adjust her aim.

“No, please! Stop! I can’t open it, I’m telling you! Dammit! I mean it! I mean it...” Mao and Sousuke exchanged a glance as they watched Harris, gripping his right knee and sniffling. They seemed somehow disappointed.

“Well, Sousuke?” she asked her compatriot.

“It doesn’t look like a performance,” Sousuke said, giving his opinion with cool-headed insight.

“I guess it’s not gonna be that easy, huh?” Mao asked with a sigh.

“Just as expected,” he agreed. “Let’s get to work.”

“Right. Have Speck and the guys bring the machinery in,” Mao said, making the order official.

“Roger.” Sousuke reached for the switch on his radio and contacted the team.

“Hey, big guy! You gonna sit there crying all day? Get up!” Mao said, kicking Harris roughly with her toes as he rolled around on the floor.

Meanwhile, the sound of the gunshot had brought Tessa and Kaname running from the other end of the hall. They protested immediately when they saw what was happening.

“M-Mao-san?!” Kaname exclaimed in shock. “I know he’s a bad guy, but this is too far!”

“Melissa? I understand that this is necessary, but at least treat his injury!” Tessa insisted.

Mao scowled at them. “‘Treat his injury?’” she scoffed. “At the most, he needs some ointment.” They both looked at her, confused. “Look closer,” she suggested laconically. “Rubber bullets.” There was no blood on Harris’s shot knee. If she’d used a live round, there would have been a pool of crimson on the floor by now.

“It hurts, it hurts, it hurts!! A doctor... call a doctor, please!” The only one who didn’t seem to realize this, then, was Harris himself, who continued to writhe overdramatically.

Soon enough, the members of the other teams that had secured the Pacific Chrysalis began to wander up to the vault. Some of them seemed to recognize Kaname, and called out things like, “Hey, Kaname!” and, “How you doing?” But because they were wearing masks, she didn’t know who was who. Corporal Yang and another soldier led off Captain Harris, who was still whining indignantly about the pain he was in. They’d probably continue his interrogation in another section of the ship. Electronic devices large and small were rolled in on a cart; these were probably meant for opening the vault door.

“Are you gonna crack the safe now?” Kaname asked.

“Yep,” Mao told her. “We’ll just have to pick the lock. Directed explosives won’t even dent the bulkhead around it; it’s about on par with the reactor of a nuclear-powered aircraft carrier.” Mao used a specialty tool to remove the console panel, then started fiddling with the electronics inside.

“Is that impressive?” Kaname wanted to know.

“Affirmative. A carrier’s nuclear reactor is designed to survive even a direct hit from an anti-ship missile unscathed. The metal they’re using here is close to that,” Sousuke said.

“I was hoping to show Kaname what was in the safe, but... this is gonna take some time. Why don’t you rejoin your friends for now?” Mao asked.

“Fine,” Kaname agreed. “But what’s in there, anyway?”

“We don’t know yet,” Tessa said. “But it’s clear that they were after you, so it’s most likely related to your nature as a Whispered. They probably want to put you into a TAROS, or some other research apparatus... We’re going to interrogate the captain, and break into that safe tonight. We’ll collect all the data we can, then withdraw from this ship.”

“Oh. So that’s why you’re here, Tessa?” Kaname finally understood. Tessa was quite capable as a submarine commander... but the minute you threw her out into the field, she became a useless klutz. It was one thing when trouble arose spontaneously, like in Ariake, but it was unusual for her to join a planned operation like this.

“That’s right,” Tessa agreed, puffing out her chest. “They’ll need my intelligence to analyze what’s inside.”

“I think you just wanted to dress up as a maid and mess around,” Kaname told her acridly.

Tessa slumped over.

Kaname was wondering if she’d gone too far, when Mao chimed in with agreement. “Kaname’s right, Tessa. You can’t complain about being seen that way, after how you’ve acted today.”

“I—”

“Please don’t trip up your soldiers in the field, all right, Colonel?” Ignoring Tessa’s pouting in response, Mao plugged a few cables to her laptop, then spoke into her radio. “Uruz-2 to Kaun-6. Cut the power to C35.”

All the lights in the ceiling suddenly flicked off, then turned on again. Mao gazed at her PC’s holo-screen and clicked her tongue. “Ah, it’s no use. Forget it... Put it back on,” she ordered. “Knew it’d be an independent circuit... ugh. I’ll just have to work my way through each security level. I’ll need Dana’s help, too. For connection... yeah, V-channels and G-channels are too slow. I’ll need the wire. You brought the drum of fiberoptic, right? Call a turtle to the starboard side...”

Kaname and the others stood by silently, listening to Mao’s jargon-laden speech.

“Yeah,” Mao went on. “I want a wired connection to the turtle. Huh? The commander says no? Say it’s Tessa’s order, then.”

Naturally, Tessa was annoyed at having her name used in vain. “Melissa! Do not arbitrarily invoke my authority!”

“Okay, fine,” Mao said agreeably. “Can I have permission?”

“W-Well—”

“Kind of in a hurry, here.” Mao waved her hand in annoyance.

Tessa hesitated for a second, then, with a sulky scowl, said, “You have my permission.”

“Right, thanks.” With that, Mao turned her attention back to the job at hand. “Speck, is the ‘stethoscope’ ready?”

“Ready,” Corporal Speck reported, playing around with the machine that used ultrasonic waves to determine the layout of the blocked-off room.

“Then let’s try it out. Go on, Kaname, go rejoin the hostages,” Mao ordered. “Sousuke, make sure she gets there safe. Tessa, don’t loiter around here; you’ll end up tripping over the cables. Go somewhere you won’t be in the way. If you need something to do, you can get me a sandwich.” Ignoring Tessa’s attempts at protest, Mao clapped her hands together. “Everyone ready?! We’re short on time, so let’s get this done!”

The members of the safe-cracking team all shouted, “Let’s do it!” in response.