The Black Cross

Ran was tense, his coat flapping in the slight breeze. One hand was gripped around his katana, deceptively lowered at his side.

There was no movement in the parking lot when Omi's voice crackled over the headset. It seemed strangely unprepared for any breach of security.

This is a strange mission, he affirmed his own thought. Kritiker seemed to be cutting corners, sending their assassin team for reconnaisance. However, it did seem to be most efficient. They were there to take out their targets. It would be no different than retrieving a victim.

He gave a nod towards Yohji, indicating they should join Omi at the door. They were a team here. All of Ran's - Aya's - focus was on the mission.

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Yohji stilled his foot, which he only just noticed he'd been neurotically tapping in an effort to simulatenously calm his nerves and wake himself up. He stared at Ran, wishing there was some way for him to absorb some of his teammate's apparent inner calm. If the other man was even remotely nervous about this mission, not a trace of it was leaking onto his expressionless face.

He almost saw Ran nod before Omi's broadcast even registered to him. Not good! Snap out of it man, you need your reflexes. Being slow isn't an option right now. He bit the inside of his mouth, hoping that the brief pain would refocus his attention. It helped, and Yohji nodded back before turning to stride towards the entrance Omi had indicated. I am not going to fuck up tonight.

It was so quiet that Yohji could hear the tiny pieces of gravel scatter as his boots dislodged them from the asphalt. He found it unsettling. Experience from past missions put him further on edge; a busy target was one that didn't suspect their attack. Stillness like this felt artifical, like the target was waiting for them. Were they walking into a trap? If they were, Yohji wasn't going to stop walking into it. He was determined to hold up his end of the orders this time, nagging insticts or not. I am not going to fuck up.

Stopped at the door, Yohji resumed observing Ran.

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Ran tensed, sweeping his eyes over the team and the grounds before making eye contact with Omi for the go-ahead.

Briefing on security had been vague, which didn't sit well with him. He didn't rule out the possiblity of a trap waiting for them beyond the door. Target numer three's face was printed in his mind, but where they would find him would be guesswork, as would any additional security measures the scientists might have taken.

Omi had asked him to take the target down for Yohji. Something he would have done anyway, but it felt akin to working with a broken arm. The ex-detective wouldn't like it if he knew. He would be counted on for cover, but on the other hand that depended on them sticking to the script.

The disk - the other wild card. Kritiker wanted it unmeddled with. It didn't sound like they wanted any sort of information on it retrieved, either. So what would be the point of questioning the targets? Peace of mind?

...lack of trust, for Ran. He shook off the unsettled feeling, whittling it down to being too long off duty. Too long off duty, and too many things leftover from the day railing against his subconscious, no matter how fixedly he sought to push away the conversation with Aya, whatever was happening with Yohji, Ken's burgeoning irrationality, Sato's frustrating response to his desperate demand.

This was a simple mission. None of the rest mattered. Get the targets, get the disk, get out.

He gave Omi a small nod.

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There was a fly perched on the top of Ken’s shoe. He was only aware of it in his peripheral vision; the majority of his focus was locked on the relatively distant spot where he would be meeting with the others. He waited with an almost unnatural stillness, only the occasional blink betrayed that he was alive at all.

It came as a pleasant surprise, how easily he fell back into this mode of operation. All of his senses were heightened, his muscles were tensed, but not strained, and every part of him was primed and waiting for the sound of Omi’s voice to come over the set. He didn’t dwell on the oddities of the mission. That wasn’t his role tonight.

All he had to do was what he was told, hold up his end of the work, follow orders. Things were easier that way.

"Systems down. Meet me at the side entrance."

Time to go. Ken bolted from the shadows as though propelled by an invisible force, skirting around to the pre-determined spot in record time. The others were there already; a quick scan showed everything to be clear. For a fleeting moment, there was a flare-up of disappointment. There was no time to analyze that, not when there was work to be done.

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Omi paused on his way back to the side entrance, backing up against the wall as he heard voices. He cautiously tipped his head just enough to peek around the corner, spotting the first and third targets in conversation. He didn't see the second.

This isn't good... It won't be easy to stay near Ken-kun if the targets we're shadowing are in different places. And it's going to be harder for Aya-kun and Yohji-kun to avoid a commotion with their target not alone.

Think, Tsukiyono. Omi slipped past the door and dashed to the side entrance; worry lined his young features as he let in his teammates.

"I think we might be in a little trouble," he guiltily whispered.

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Omi's words brought a lurch to Yohj's stomach, as a spectrum of potentially deadly scenarios rapidly flickered through his mind.

Was Omi seen? Was I seen? more guards than we expected? An arsenal of automatic firearms? The fuse not clearly marked? This could go wrong in more ways than I can even think of....

"Trouble?" he whispered, hoping that he was succeeding in his effort to keep a calm and neutral expression. Omi had preceded that with 'little' so maybe it wasn't so bad. Except for the fact that Omi had said it in the exact same slightly strained tone of politeness which a hostess might use to inform her guests that the kitchen was on fire. Omi's polite tones always made Yohji nervous.

His eyes scanned Ran and Ken's faces to evaluate their reactions to Omi's announcement.

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"How?" Ran whispered, voice taut in its quietness.

He was impatient to get this over with. Three scientists in an all but deserted building. Their team had faced monsters and abilities beyond what should exist; Three targets, and a disk. One target for each, one Weiss for the disk. His fingers tightened on his katana.

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"The target we need to isolate is with one of the other two. I don't know where the other one is-- I didn't see him. We'll need to adapt our strategy a little, is all."

And off the top of my head, I don't know what we should do.

He didn't say that last part out loud. Aya had a remarkable ability to make Omi feel all of three inches tall. The last thing he wanted to do was justify it.

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"I guess we need a diversion..." Yohji frowned. It was sort of a useless suggestion considering he lacked any non-suicidal ideas of how to accomplish it, but he didn't know what else to say. The others all looked grim, and certainly didn't look like they were being struck by any brilliant solutions just yet.

"I could..." Yohji began, hoping that once he started talking his mind would helpfully supply an ending, which it failed miserably at doing. "I could break off from Ran," he tried again, "we could approach them from different directions..." he stared at his wrist, willing his watch to magically give him an idea. "Maybe we could break them up."

He felt stupid for even trying, aware that nothing he'd said actually solved the problem as how to 'break them up.' Yohji was quite good with his weapon, and had become extremely skilled in both stealth and agility before ever joining Weiss. But he was not a tactical guy. There was a reason he always deferred to Omi and Aya for strategy.

"You could always trip the alarm," he said with a shrug, "nothing like self preservation to kill a partnership."

"That would require massive reworking of all our plans though, I guess," he added with a defeated sigh.

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"Bombay, is there a clear shot?" Ran asked, as if Yohji hadn't spoken. "Can you use your darts?"

His eyes scanned the area, flicking back over his teammates before resting again on Omi.

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Ken seemed strangely quiet to Omi. For a moment, his attention held on him. What was he thinking right now? Memories from the bedroom flashed before Omi's eyes-- he looked away in the hopes of resisting the hot blush trying to creep across the bridge of his nose.

Mission... What were they doing again?

Targets. Change of plan needed. Focus, Omi.

Aya's suggestion seemed the more feasible of the two. Actually, it was probably the best chance they had.

"Un. Probably. The trick is going to be keeping the target we need alive quiet while I do it... Yohji-kun, Your wire should do the trick. Just don't hold him to the point he's strangled. I can throw the darts while Aya-kun moves in and grabs him, and we'll leave you two there with him. Ken-kun and I will go find the last target from there. Okay?"

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The trick is going to be keeping the target we need alive quiet while I do it.... Just don't hold him to the point he's strangled.

Yohji noted the redundancy of the instructions and wondered at the implication. Did Omi think he was overly eager to make a kill tonight? The only thing Yohji was eager to do was be done with the mission and back to the Koneko. Killing the target certainly was the quickest means to that end, so maybe the concern was a valid one. Maybe. Yohji didn't especially think so though. He wasn't about to botch the mission just because he was tired and didn't want to be there.

He nodded to show that he understood, and followed up with a question just to cement his instructions. "We're interrogating the garroted one?"

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A small hiss of impatience slipped from Ran's lips, though it was quiet. He nodded, eyes on Omi for agreement. He was afraid of attracting attention. "Take care of these first, then find the other." It was as much suggestion as it was order.

He was listening for footsteps, but there could be no guarantee that the two would move on without notice.

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Ken watched the whole exchange in complete silence, keeping his face as still and serious as he could. From the moment Omi announced the snag in the plan, he found himself holding his breath.

They were both *so* close, and it would be simple for him just to run in, kill the one and incapacitate the other. Easy as pie.

It made him freeze. Those were not the thoughts of a teammate, and he had a brief flash of fear that somehow they would be able to sense it. He had to be on his toes.

He glanced over at Omi, nodding to show he understood the plan. His fists clenched just enough to slide the tips of his claws out, and a small, dry smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

"Just give me the kill order. I'll be ready."

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Omi's eyes traveled across the spread of his teammates-- Yohji. Aya. Ken. He felt the nervous energy in the air around them and tried to block it out. He looked briefly back to Yohji and nodded to all of them. "Un. It's down this way, everyone."

After a moment to look and listen, to double check they still hadn't been spotted, Omi led the way through the halls towards the room where the two targets had been seen.

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Something felt not quite right to Yohji, and it wasn't the glitch in the plan. Why had Omi's gaze lingered on him the longest just now? It was as if he thought that by chaperoning, he could stave off some disaster that he expected Yohji to instigate.

He hadn't missed the eager quality in Ken's voice as he said Just give me the kill order, either. Hadn't Ken followed that the first target was being taken down with darts?

They just didn't seem to be moving properly as a -team- tonight. The balance was off, but the change was subtle and hard to pin down.

Yohji shook it off and nodded to Omi before silently following.

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Ran took a step after them.

"Hey!"

He whirled. Two security guards were running at them, both reaching for their hips. One was a good ten yards behind the other.

Damn. "Go!" He snapped at his teammates. Without looking backwards, he jerked into action. The man closest to him suddenly realized the intruder he was facing had no intention of listening to him. His eyes widened.

"Hey...wait..." His hands went up, by his head. "I'm just -"

Ran - Aya raised his sword. "Meet your -"

Aya-chan.

Ran stumbled.

The first guard used the split-second mistake to reach for his gun. Aya knocked it out of his hand and spun to bring the hilt of his sword down on his neck.

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The sound of an unfamiliar voice caused Yohji to wheel around, instincts overriding Ran's command to keep going.

Keep going. Instructions he had given once, with disastrous results. Not a good parallel for his mind to be drawing just now....

He hesitated, trying to decide whether to listen to Ran or turn back and help. Ran could hold his own. But they had guns.... He fucking hated guns. For an agonizing moment his feet seemed locked, and then he was running back towards Ran, no thinking required. His legs simply wouldn't go in the other direction. He watched as Ran faltered and his stomach lurched. There it was, happening again. He could only watch as a gun was drawn and pointed at someone he--

The guard was too close to Ran for Yohji to use his wire, and it was a good thing because it stopped him from following his instinct to attack the one that was already being taken care of. Ran doesn't need your help! There's a second guard.

Yohji tore his attention off of Ran and tried to focus on the other. His hesitation as he watched Ran struggle with the gun had given the man time to fully draw his weapon. He practically flung his wire at the guard, who stubbornly clung to his gun in spite of the threads cutting through his arms and binding his hands. Should have gone for the neck, he would have dropped it if he were choking....

In spite of how volatile his target remained, Yohji couldn't stop himself from looking backwards and checking on Ran. Not a smart move.

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"Hey!"

Crap!

Like Yohji, Omi automatically whirled around in spite of Aya's orders. Instincts took over. Aya was attacking the first; Yohji had the gun of the second.

A dart sailed from his hand into the second, silencing him quickly.

That was more noise than he cared for already.

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Ran's lips thinned.

I could have taken them both!

...you could also have been killed.

He needed to focus on the mission. He would be no help to his sister if he were dead. And...

Yohji.

He could get his teammates killed. Aya stared at the gun in the hand trapped by Yohji's wire, violet eyes flicking to the assassin's face.

Whatever feeling that was, he was going to have to control that, too.

He set his jaw and turned away quickly, before he exposed the flash of emotion, and followed Omi.

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Yohji stared at the trembling gun, and disjointedly wondered why it was moving. Omi had cleanly taken down the guard, everything should be still….

It took him a moment to realize that the shaking originated from his own hands.

The taught wire formed a beeline between the gun’s barrel and his chest; the guard couldn’t have asked for more unerring aim. If Omi’s dart had come just a second later….

It didn’t matter.

Omi had been there, and dwelling on what ifs would only rattle and make him clumsier.

He quickly freed his weapon, and got back in line with the others. He kept his gaze steady on the door they were approaching, not daring to make eye contact with Ran.

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He wasn't fast enough. Ken whirled around with the others when he heard the shout, and there was the gun. Before he had the chance to get momentum going, the quicksilver sounds of wire and dart beat him to it.

All too soon. It was one of the drawbacks to having such a close range weapon. But he never let it get to him. He'd just...next time. Everything was under control. He spared a quick glance to his team as they made their way down the hall. Sure they seemed a little shaken, but it'd been a long time since...and anyway, they still had work to do, and they were gonna do it and go home.

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Omi met Ken's eyes in the hall. They had to hurry-- who knew if they'd heard any of the noise. But they couldn't just leave those two fallen guards in plain sight; it was a dead giveaway of trouble.

He clasped his hands together and mouthed to Ken, "Hide them?" before resuming the lead down the hall towards the targets. He would have stayed to do it himself, but he was the one who knew where the targets were, and was part of the scheme to take out the one they wanted dead immediately.

It was the only efficient choice, but he still worried.

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Ken watched the retreating backs of his teammates with a mixture of resignation and mild irritation. He hated body duty; it was slow, heavy work and left him feeling all too vulnerable. Still, it needed to get done, so he would do it.

He sprinted to the closest door, tried the handle a few times and frowned when it didn't open. The next door had an ID swipe. Fortunately for Ken, whoever left the room last was careless enough not to latch the door all the way. Ken smirked a little. Blame it all on the folly of feeling safe and secure.

He grinned as he listened for any noise from inside. Silence. A quick peek through the crack proved it to be empty. He ran back to the corpses, and with all too familiar ease he hefted the dead weight around his back and shoulders and dragged them back to the unlocked room.

It looked like a cross between a recording studio and a mad scientist’s lair, all overlaid with a theme of “Too Many Late Nights”. The place was littered with energy drink cans and vitamin supplement wrappers, and more than a few empty microwave dinners sat side by side with delicate looking equipment and manila envelopes.

There was a small door to the left with a cheery sign that read “LET’S DO OUR PART TO KEEP THE WORKSPACE CLEAN”. Ken opened it to reveal a small storage closet with cleaning supplies. All of them were still in their original packaging and had a fine coat of dust. It would now be the temporary home of Guards #1 and #2.

As he dragged the body of the second guard into the room, he had to stop for a moment to shift the body weight. The guards arm brushed against a precariously stacked pile of iced coffee cans, sending them tumbling to the floor. Ken bit back a groan of frustration, squeezed the guard in with his coworker, and shut the door tight. He almost wanted to leave the cans where they lay, but that would be telling evidence that someone was in here, so he scrambled to put them back in their leaning tower.

That’s when he noticed the padded metal box lying open next to one of the computer stations. It had only four slots, with organizational tabs above each space. In each slot were two glossy black and white photos, a post-it note with some kind of shorthand hastily scrawled on it…and a disk.

Each disk looked exactly like the one in the mission photo. There was only one slot that didn’t have a disk, marked “Nov. Canary Island.”. On closer inspection, Ken could see an imprint in the padding that suggested there was a disk that belonged there. The scientist may have grabbed it when the fuse blew.

Damn. Now what? Kritiker hadn’t brought up the possibility that there was more than one disk. There was no guarantee that the missing disk was the one they were here for, but they couldn’t risk leaving without it. Ken resisted the urge to knock over the tower of cans again just for spite. Instead, he grabbed the three disks and slipped out of the room, carefully returning the door to its barely opened position.

“Ken here,” he murmured into the headset. “Dump complete. Got some good news and bad news. Good news is the target should have a disk on him when you find him. The bad news is, there are three other disks that look exactly like the one we’re supposed to get. I have the other three, but we gotta find that last one. Where do you want me to meet you?”

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