Disclaimer – the rights to the anime series depicted in this story belong to the original creators/copyright holders. This is a not-for-profit tale, and will be taken offline immediately if the franchise owners wish it.

Operation Icarus

By Random1377

Part 1 – Going in with a Bang

Sousuke Sagara had seen many military operations go bad. From a minor flub of a rehearsed line, to the compromising of an entire team of SAS specialists—every goof-up under the sun—he knew quite well that it didn't take much to have months of planning go up in smoke. Glancing at his watch, he hoped that this was not one of those times, but he was starting to wonder where his fire support, Kurz Weber, had gotten off to.

He was standing in the courtyard of a huge museum in Milan, Italy, rubbing shoulders with people from all over the world and watching out for a rather slippery bomb manufacturer that his organization, Mithril, had sent his team to apprehend. So far, he had not seen anyone that looked overly suspicious, but that was no reason to drop his guard, he decided, nor was it a reason for Kurz to be late.

"Urzu 7, anything yet?" a voice crackled in his ear.

"Unsure," he replied, moving his lips as little as possible to avoid undue attention. "So far the closest people to the statue indicated in the report are an old man with a cane, a pair of women in red hats, a man in a suit, and a young girl with a violin case. Do you see them?"

The other member of his team, Melissa Mao, snorted through the communications link. "No, I'm on the other side of the museum," she explained. "I'm having trouble with the IR in my armslave—calibration's all screwed up! I can tell there are people there, but it won't isolate how many!"

"Understood," Sousuke murmured. "I'm moving in for a closer look. It's almost noon."

Melissa sounded amused as she replied, "You think it's the old guy with the cane, or the little girl?"

Sousuke frowned, but did not reply. In his experience, no one could be ruled out as a suspect unless he knew them personally—and even then, there were exceptions. The hijacking of the Tuatha de Danaan the month before was proof enough of that. He was not ready to say that there was no one he would turn his back on, but the list had dropped significantly since facing two traitors in his own ranks.

As he began to casually stroll towards the statue, Melissa spoke again. "There are other organizations watching this one, Sousuke," she reminded him, her voice losing its joking quality. "Don't jump the gun this time."

Since he was a professional, Sousuke simply replied, "Yes ma'am," rather than taking offense.

It was not, after all, as if he had never jumped to the wrong conclusion, or tackled someone he thought was a terrorist… or a stranger on the street… or a teacher.

No, Sousuke decided, Melissa's warning was not in any way inappropriate.

"The women are moving away," he reported, coming to a stop in front of a rather gaudy painting of the crucifixion. "I don't think they got close enough to place anything on the statue. The old man," he paused, taking another quick look before turning his eyes back to the painting, "the old man appears to be blind."

"And the little girl?" Melissa prompted innocently.

Sousuke continued to make his way towards the statue. "Eating lunch with her companion," he whispered, lowering his voice still lower as he breathed, "he's spotted me."

For a moment, Sousuke's eyes met those of the man in the business suit… and Sousuke's hand twitched a bit, longing for the comfort of his gun. Soldier, he thought immediately, forcing himself not to look away from the man's steely gaze too quickly. Or at the very least, policeman, but definitely on duty—this is no casual museum trip.

"Afternoon," the man called, his tone friendly and light. "Enjoying the art?"

"Yes," Sousuke answered, "it's… very stimulating."

"You're blown," Melissa's voice hissed in his ear. "This guy's an agent—I can freakin' hear it from here!"

Having no way to reply to her, Sousuke ignored her commentary. "Are you from here?" he asked smoothly. "I haven't met many Japanese speakers since I got here last night. Maybe you could show me around."

The man looked Sousuke up and down, arching an eyebrow at the young man's outfit. "Don't you have a tour guide or something?" he wondered casually. "You're with a school group, right? I mean, I'd be more than happy to show you the sights… but I wouldn't want your teacher to worry."

"I'm here on my own today," Sousuke replied smoothly, "so it's not a problem."

Sousuke was so focused on the man that he almost missed the fact that the girl was staring at him with a bright, sunny smile. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, surprised to find that she was older than he had first thought. At a guess, he placed her at ten or maybe eleven years old, though her eyes were almost as hard as those of the man in the suit, reflecting none of the cheeriness of her otherwise infectious grin.

Things were definitely not what they seemed.

"Well then maybe we should sta-"

"Jose!"

The old man, Sousuke thought, feeling oddly detached as the girl abruptly threw herself in front of the man in the business suit. I shouldn't have forgotten the old man…

He tensed, instinctively shielding his face as a dull 'whump' sounded behind him—and then he was flying, hurled into the air by the force of the blast he had failed to stop. Hot wind tore at his clothes, and chunks of debris (the remains of the statue) rained down on his back, peppering him with searing needles of pain while the people all around began to scream.

"S-status," he coughed, fumbling for his earpiece as he forced himself onto his hands and knees. "Kurz? Mao?"

Sousuke's fingers found only flesh as he tried to find his communications device—flesh and a hot, flowing gash just under his right temple. He cast around for his communicator, blinking dust from his eyes and managing to get halfway to his feet before something hard and compact hit him from the side, flinging him back to the ground.

"You," a chill, dispassionate voice whispered, "you did this."

Looking up, Sousuke met the emotionless eye of an automatic handgun, the barrel trembling slightly as the girl glared down at him, the rage in her eyes betraying the calmness of her tone.

Her smile was long gone.

Choosing his words very carefully, Sousuke said, "I'm afraid you've misunderstood, I was only-"

The girl suddenly tensed, and Sousuke's jaw fell open as she leaned backward, holding herself at an impossible angle as a bullet whirred through the space she had just vacated.

Kurz!

Sousuke tried once more to get to his feet, but the girl was on him in a flash, stepping around him and slipping her arm around his throat "Call off your sniper," the girl demanded, using Sousuke as a human shield and staring intently up at where Kurz was undoubtedly cursing her existence.

"C-can't," he croaked, wincing as the girl's elbow tightened around his neck. "I can't!"

"Why?"

"You're kneeling on my walkie-talkie."

The girl looked down, and Sousuke made his move… or he tried to, anyway. With the minor distraction, he swung his head back, mentally apologizing as he slammed his head into the girl's forehead—and immediately cried out in pain, wondering dizzily if he had cracked his skull.

"Uhh," the girl grunted, loosening her hold and allowing him to clutch his throbbing head. "Don't do that ag-"

Another shot rang out, and Sousuke felt and heard the slug hammer into the girl's left shoulder… but amazingly, she still did not fall.

"Jose," the girl whispered tremulously, slowly tightening her hold and shifting her entire body behind Sousuke's. "You killed Jose."

Sousuke struggled weakly, trying to pull her arm away from his throat, but it was no good—she was far stronger than he was, and she had leverage and positioning on her side. He could feel the vertebrae in his neck starting to grind together, threatening to give out any second and send him spiraling into death. For a moment, he considered begging for his life, all of his unfinished tasks flashing through his mind as his vision started to grow dim… but he knew he would be wasting valuable breath.

"Henrietta… let him go."

And in an instant, the pressure on his throat was gone. He sagged forward, choking and coughing as his burning lungs drew in huge gulps of life-giving air.

"Jose!" the girl shouted, springing from Sousuke in one leap and falling to her knees at the man's side. "You're ali-"

"The mark," the man named Jose gasped, holding the bleeding wound in his chest as he gave the girl a hard look. "Go after the mark, Henrietta—take this man and go."

"But-"

"We still have a mission, Henrietta," Jose cut in. "This man," he looked to Sousuke, "this man is on our side. If he was with them, he wouldn't have let himself get caught in the blast—you should have realized that."

Henrietta cast a shameful glance at Sousuke, looking suddenly like the little girl she seemed to be… though Sousuke knew in that instant that he had lost one more certainty in life.

"But you're hurt," she protested. "I have to st-"

"You have to catch the mark," Jose interrupted. "If we lose this guy, we might never get another crack at him." He turned his attention to Sousuke. "My people will be here soon," he said, "but there's no time for us to wait for them, do you agree?" After a nod from Sousuke, Jose concluded, "I don't know who you're with, but I don't much care right now. Take Henrietta. Go get those bastards."

"Understood."

The man named Jose was right. There was no time to wait for backup, and even if he could find Melissa in the noise and confusion, her AS was too big to fit down the narrow streets. This was going to be a foot chase.

And they needed to go.

"We'll take the back exit," he said, pulling his service pistol out of its concealed holster as he started off though the smoke. "I hear sirens. I estimate that we have about two minutes before…"

He trailed off as Henrietta's hand slipped into his. He looked down at her, but her eyes were locked onto Jose's ad she whispered, "I'll be back soon."

Jose nodded. "I know you will. Now GO!"

Henrietta gave Jose one last agonized look, her hesitation painfully clear before she shook her head and ran, hand in hand with Sousuke, towards the exit.

* * *

The pavement made hard, echoing cracks under Henrietta's feet as she and the young man from the museum raced through the back alleys of Milan. Whoever he was, he was in good enough shape to keep up with her, though she did find herself dragging him along on a few occasions.

Largely because his hand was still clasped tightly in her own.

"Where are we going?" the young man asked as they dashed down yet another alleyway.

"Jose told me he saw that man with the cane down by the docks earlier today," Henrietta explained, stopping for a moment as they exited the alley and looking around to get her bearings. "We thought he was blind, but we were still trying to watch him since he was one of the only people close enough to touch the statue."

"I was thinking the same thing," the young man admitted, following as she sprinted off towards the docks. "The old man, the women with the hats, and you and your brother."

Henrietta had to keep herself from correcting him. Fratello, she reminded herself. It's better if people think we're brother and sister, because that's what the Agency wants us to be…

She still had to know, "How did you know he's my brother?"

The young man glanced up, and seeing that they were still a half mile from the docks, he decided that there was enough time to explain. "Simple," he said efficiently, "you seemed far more comfortable with him than a simple coworker or fellow agent, and he didn't look old enough to be your father."

Henrietta nodded.

"And I didn't think you were old enough to be his lover, so—watch out!"

The two came skidding to a halt as Henrietta (who had looked over her shoulder at the young man's last comment) nearly ran into a light post.

"Ow…"

"You're hurt," the young man whispered, seeming to remember suddenly that she had taken a shot in the shoulder. "Let me take a lo-"

"We don't have time," Henrietta cut in. "He'll get away—Jose said I can't let him get away."

Surveying the scene for a moment, the gunslinger girl resumed her run, her jaw set in determination as the docks came into view.

"There—he's there!"

The young man at her side squinted as she pointed to a small figure hurriedly boarding a freighter. "How can you tell from this distance?" he wondered.

As far as he could see, it was a young man boarding the boat, not an old one, and there was no sign of a limp in his step at all. Of course, he did not immediately disbelieve the girl either. Considering all of the amazing things he had seen in his career, the ability to pick out detail at a distance was pretty tame.

"Same forehead, same eyes," she murmured, keeping her eyes on the mark as they raced down the narrow Italian streets. "Jose made me memorize the features of everyone close enough to bomb the statue."

The young man mumbled something that sounded like, 'impressive,' but Henrietta did not have the time to listen to him. We have to stop him before that boat sails away, she thought grimly. Secure the mark… get back home… help Jose… secure the mark… get back home… help Jose…

"They're weighing anchor," the young man said quickly. "We should jump on—they have guards posted at the ramp, but no one's watching the front."

Henrietta nodded. Of course no one was watching the front… because climbing up an anchor was very close to suicide for anyone but the most skilled solider. She spared the young man at her side a quick glance, wondering what branch of the military he was with, and what he had been doing there in the first place.

No time, she thought, releasing his hand as he sprinted ahead and jumped for the anchor. No time to think. As the young man began to climb the heavy chain, Henrietta glanced to the ramp. Oh no!

One of the men guarding the ramp was making his way towards the front of the boat. From the expression on his face, it looked like he was not happy about being sent on this errand, but Henrietta guessed—quite accurately—that he had been told to check the anchor, and that if she didn't do something soon, the young man she was with would be killed.

Don't think, don't think, don't think.

Racing around to the front of the boat, she quickly checked to see if anyone could see her, then ran away from the boat, giving herself a good lead off. Once she was sure she had enough room, the gunslinger girl lowered her head and pushed off hard from the pavement, squeezing every last ounce of potential energy out of her cybernetic implants in a frantic dash towards the ship.

Don't… think!

Reaching the end of the pier, she kicked off, tearing a small chunk of wood out of the planks behind her as she flung herself up and over the ship's starboard side. She skidded to a halt on the deck, thankful that there had been nothing for her to collide with as she quickly searched for any witnesses to her superhuman leap. Seeing no one, she grabbed a small coil of rope from the deck and dashed over to the side, lowering it down to the young man trying to climb the anchor's rope.

"Grab on," she hissed urgently, looking around frantically for the man she knew to be coming up from the ramp. "Hurry!"

Though he looked stunned to see her, the young man quickly grabbed the rope, his eyes going wide as Henrietta planted her feet on the deck and yanked with all of her strength, hoisting him up and over the side of the railing.

"In here!"

Quickly, the two ducked under the tarp of a small lifeboat lashed to the side of the freighter, pulling the cover back in place mere seconds before a burly solider in gray fatigues strolled over to look down at the anchor.

The young man grunted as Henrietta lay on his stomach, partly in discomfort but mostly in surprise as he found that the girl pinning him to the lifeboat weighed about twice what she should have. In the semi-dark under the tarp, Henrietta could see his eyes studying her face, and she tried not to squirm under the sudden, intense scrutiny. She could almost hear the wheels in the young man's head turning, asking questions like, 'How did she get up there before me?' and 'What kind of grade school kid can haul someone up the side of a boat without breaking a sweat?'

Instead of voicing these questions, though, the young man glanced down, pursing his lips for a moment before whispering, "Don't make a sound."

Henrietta's eyes widened as he suddenly rolled her onto her side and grabbed her jacket by the collar. In one tug, he pulled it down to her waist, trapping her arms at her sides and rendering her effectively defenseless. She had the strength to tear the jacket apart, of course, but with the guard standing a mere ten feet away, she didn't dare make the attempt.

"Ssss!"

A hiss of pain escaped her lips as the young man touched her shoulder, his fingers gently probing the dime-sized hole made by his sniper friend's bullet. "It feels like it's in there pretty deep," he murmured, keeping his voice low as he pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket. "I don't think I can pull it out without some tweezers or forceps. Can you move your arm?"

Her eyes wide with amazement at the young man's business-like demeanor, Henrietta nodded, whispering, "Yes… it doesn't hurt much."

"I see," the young man replied. "Well, as long as your functionality isn't impaired, I think we'll be ok. I'll see if I can fix you when we reach our destination."

It took a moment for his words to sink in, and when they did, Henrietta did something she had not done for several months.

She pouted.

"I'm not a robot," she informed him, her voice rising briefly in her indignation. "My name is Henrietta."

The young man glanced briefly at the wound in her shoulder, pointedly staring at the dark streaks of hydraulic fluid mixed in with the blood before whispering, "My apologies, Miss Henrietta… I didn't mean to make you angry." He pulled her jacket back up, taking care not to brush her injury, and gravely offered her his right hand.

"Sergeant Sousuke Sagara."

Lying almost nose-to-nose with the young man in a lifeboat, Henrietta wondered if this was the time and place for protocol. She reasoned, however, that Jose would be upset with her if he found out she was being rude when someone else was trying to be polite, so she took his hand in hers and gave it a grave shake.

"It's nice to meet you," she whispered, blushing faintly as she realized just how close they really were.

If Sousuke shared her discomfort, he made no sign. "It sounds like we're underway," he murmured, closing his eyes and listening to the rhythm of the ships engine resonating up through the hull. "We should wait until dark, and then find another hiding place. Provisions could be a problem if this is a long trip, so we'll need to move around at night, and take only what we need to get by to avoid anyone noticing that… what is it? What's the problem?"

Henrietta was staring at him with something close to awe on her face. "Nothing," she whispered, shaking her head slightly for emphasis. "Just… nothing."

He talks just like Jose, she thought as Sousuke began listing off the potential dangers of their current situation. Jose… oh, Jose—what do I do?

"…and if we can get access to the communications room," Sousuke was saying, "then we might be able to send a message to my organization, and-"

"Mister Sousuke?"

"Hmm?"

"We should probably be more quiet."

Sousuke blinked, then reluctantly agreed that Henrietta was probably right. As they lay in relative silence, rocked by the motion of the sea, Henrietta tried to decide what she should do. The entire situation was over her head—way over her head—and now that she had time to think, the young gunslinger was starting to realize how unprepared she was for a mission like this.

Cut off from her handler, wounded, and holding only one magazine of ammo, Henrietta wanted to cry. Jose would be ashamed of me if he saw me like this, she thought sadly. What should I do? What should I do?

"Miss Henrietta."

"Yes?"

Henrietta watched at the young man shrugged his school jacket off. "It's getting cold," he informed her. "We should rest for an hour or two until dark and then find more suitable shelter."

She hesitated as he turned onto his side and draped his jacket over one shoulder, holding it up in a clear invitation to join him. "N-no thank you," she whispered, averting her eyes as he stared at her. "I'm… not that cold."

"It's barely sunset," Sousuke informed her, eyeing her closely as a shiver ran through her tiny frame. "It will get much colder than this."

Being a cyborg, her body was more resistant to damage and pain… but in a skirt and a thin blouse, she was still susceptible to the brisk ocean air, and now that the excitement of the chase was over, she was starting to feel the chill. She glanced at the young man, studying his face closely for any sign of malice or duplicity. She wasn't afraid of being molested by him, since she was physically stronger (or at least his equal) but if he decided to attack her in her sleep, she wouldn't be able to protect herself.

And she wasn't ready to die just yet.

As he started to lower his jacket, Henrietta scooted closer, reasoning that it wouldn't do any good to die of exposure when a heat source was readily available. Besides, she thought as Sousuke covered her with his thick, warm jacket, Jose said I should work with him.

In spite of this thought, Henrietta did not close her eyes… and neither did Sousuke, so rather than resting, the two simply lay chest to chest, staring into each others eyes and sharing their body heat as the ocean rocked their bodies gently from side to side.

* * *

"You saw him alive after the blast? You're sure you saw him alive?"

Kurz fought the urge to rub at his eyes as his captain, Teletha 'Tessa' Testarossa, grilled him for information. "Yes ma'am," he said crisply, "when I saw him, he was between me and the girl marked as 'target 1' in my report."

"Then you lost him in the crowd," the platinum-haired woman murmured, pacing back and forth in front of him with her hands laced behind her back and a dark scowl on her face. "Our best sniper, and you couldn't pick him out of a crowd of less than three hundred— and not only that, you lost track of the girl and her cohort as well. Three possible targets," she waved one hand, "gone, just like that."

"Captain," Melissa interjected. "You're being too harsh. Weber was-"

"And you're speaking out of turn, Sergeant Major," Tessa cut in. "I've read your report, and I'm talking to Sergeant Weber right now. I'll get to you in a minute."

As the captain turned on her heel, Kurz and Melissa exchanged glances. It was no secret that Tessa had a certain soft spot for Sagara, but this was the first time either of them could recall her letting personal feelings affect her judgment and behavior.

"The girl…"

Kurz and Melissa turned their attention to their captain's back. "Yes ma'am?" Kurz prompted when Tessa said noting more. "What about her?"

"You… said you hit her in the shoulder, but she didn't bleed?" Tessa whispered. "Nothing?"

Hesitating for a moment, Kurz said, "At the range I was shooting from, I couldn't see any—but I know I got a solid hit on her, and the next time I saw her, I could barely spot the hole in her jacket. She should have been gushing blood, Captain, and if she was wearing a vest, she still shouldn't have been able to recover that fast."

Tessa continued pacing, unconsciously taking her ponytail in her hand and brushing the end against her lips. "It could be them," she whispered, seemingly unaware that Kurz and Melissa were still in the room. "It is their territory, after all…"

Wisely keeping silent in spite of their burning curiosity, the two soldiers waited patiently as their captain continued to pace and mumble to herself, her features growing more and more agitated until finally she walked to her desk and pressed the button on her phone's intercom system.

"Mister Kalinin," she said briskly, "you have a contact in Section One of the Social Welfare Agency, don't you? Please contact him and find out if any of their agents were in Milan. Also…" she hesitated, "please pull all the information we have on Operation Icarus and bring it to my office once you have the report from the agency. Thank you." Without waiting for a reply, she dialed a different extension, picking up her phone's receiver and saying, "This is the captain… please review all satellite information for Milan at 4:15 yesterday afternoon. I want any possible exit route Sergeant Sagara could have taken." She listened for a moment, her brow drawing down for a moment before she murmured, "Yes, I understand that it's already under way, but please increase the priority on it to number one—I'm sure that when we find Sagara, we'll find our bomber."

Hanging up the phone, she turned back to Kurz and Melissa looking from one to the other before slowly bowing her head.

"I'm sorry," she whispered miserably. "I know it's not your fault—you're his friends… you did everything you could."

Though it was odd, Melissa suddenly wished that Kaname Chidori was there. The Whispered girl was the only person Melissa could think of that fit into the category of 'friend' for Tessa. God knew she wasn't exactly the motherly type.

"Hey, don't worry about it," Kurz yawned. "We'll track him down, and when we do-"

"No," Tessa interrupted, looking more miserable. "I need you to watch over Miss Chidori for me. This was supposed to be a one day mission… we can't leave her unprotected."

Melissa opened her mouth to protest, but closed it again after looking into Tessa's anguished face. "I'm sorry, Captain," she said quietly. "We'll take care of her."

Because that's what we do, she thought as Tessa gave her a pitifully grateful nod. We protect the ones who can't protect themselves… even if it means sometimes we have to throw one of our own to the wolves.

Wishing they had the kind of relationship that would allow for a hug, Melissa saluted, glancing over her shoulder as she and Kurz left a moment later. "Don't worry," she whispered, "I'm sure he'll be ok. He always finds a way out."

Tessa gave her a weak smile.

"I hope you're right this time."

* * *

Henrietta woke with a start, the smell of sea salt sharp in her nose as she blinked in the near pitch-blackness of night. She could not remember the exact circumstances of falling asleep, but based on the quiet and the darkness, she guessed that it was some time in the middle of the night. Her shoulder throbbed as she tensed the muscles, the natural painkiller of endorphin long since having worn off. The pain was dull and low—a good sign, since it would not hold her back too much—though Henrietta knew that if it was left alone too long, things could suddenly get very bad.

The bullet was still in her, after all.

"Mister Sousuke?" she whispered, trying to pick the young man's face out of the inky surroundings.

She could feel his body, so she knew he was there… and somehow, though she couldn't remember how, they had repositioned themselves during the night, ending up with Sousuke on his back and Henrietta with her head resting on his chest.

The gunslinger girl blushed, embarrassed that she had allowed herself to wind up in such an intimate position. Sorry Jose, she thought guiltily, I didn't mean it…

Squinting her eyes, she managed to find Sousuke's face, her heart skipping a beat as she found him gazing down at her.

"Did you rest well?"

"Yes," she replied honestly, "I did. Did you rest, Mister Sousuke?"

The young man shook his head. "No," he murmured, "I've been listening. They have a guard that patrols this area every twenty minutes… this is no ordinary freighter."

Henrietta nodded, then frowned, feeling a certain lightness at the small of her back.

"Mister Sousuke?"

"Hmm?"

"….where's my gun?"

Sousuke did not hesitate to reply, "I have it. You had the safety off." Henrietta felt warm steel pressing into her hand, and as she looked into Sousuke's eyes, she knew instinctively that the idea of killing her in her sleep had never crossed his mind. "I think it's too late for us to distrust each other," he said calmly. "Can we work together, Miss Henrietta?"

It was hard to say no to a question like that, Henrietta decided, when the person asking it was lying halfway underneath you and sharing your body heat. "Yes, Mister Sousuke," she said quietly, "we can."

"Alright," Sousuke said decisively. "Then here's what we should do…"

Henrietta listened carefully as the young man precisely outlined their situation and options, sterilizing her wound with some alcohol he had scrounged up and binding it as he spoke. As he saw it, he explained, they were outnumbered and in the dark on their destination, so they needed to lie low until the boat reached its destination before making any rash moves. Once they had arrived, he reasoned that they could find out what they had gotten involved in (as it was clearly more than a simple bombing), find a way to communicate with one or both of their agencies, and then disrupt whatever operations this organization was in the middle of until their backup arrived.

When he had finished, Henrietta asked, "Is this what they call guerilla warfare, Mister Sousuke?"

"Yes," Sousuke replied. "Are you uncomfortable with that, Miss Henrietta?"

Considering the question for a moment, Henrietta ultimately shook her head. "I've never done it," she admitted. "Most of what I do is against lots of people all at once…but I don't know how much I can do with my shoulder like this." She brightened as it suddenly occurred to her that, "My fried Rico would be good at this, I think."

Sousuke nodded. "Some people have greater aptitude for this kind of work," he said confidently. "Is Rico good at what he does?"

Giggling, Henrietta said, "Rico's a girl."

Further conversation was curtailed as footsteps approached their position. They waited until the footsteps had passed, then pulled the tarp on the lifeboat back, peering carefully out to make sure the coast was clear before slipping out onto the deck. A quick survey of the area showed that they were on a basic tanker-type freighter, which meant that there were potentially a dozen bolt holes for a pair of small bodies to hide in for an extended amount of time.

And considering that they had no idea where they were going, it was good to have multiple hiding places. Mister Sousuke said as long as we cover our tracks, they'll never know we're here, Henrietta thought as she and Sousuke slipped behind a bulkhead. But we could be here for days.

Closing her eyes, Henrietta slipped her hand into Sousuke's, comforted by its size and strength. He wasn't Jose, of course (no one was, or ever would be), but he was confident and in charge.

And really, that was all Henrietta needed.

* * *

Kurz was pretty sure that Kaname Chidori lived her life being 'a woman scorned' since she always seemed to be on the warpath about something or other. "He's fine," he told her for the hundredth time in their twenty minute conversation. "Would I lie?"

"Yes," Kaname countered, setting her bento down and giving the blonde a hard stare. "In fact, I think you're so used to lying that you don't even know you're doing it anymore!"

"Aww, that's not right!" Kurz complained, looking around the small, sunny park where they were eating. "Give me a break, huh? I said he just got caught up in a mission! Why ya gotta come down on me like that?"

As the young girl rose to her feet, Kurz considered just how alike she and his captain were. Man, it's like she knows what Tessa knows, he thought dismally. And since when does Sousuke need a babysitter, let alone two! He's got more kills than I do—and that's saying something.

Kaname laced her hands behind her back. "Caught up in a mission, huh?" she whispered, staring up at the sunny October sky. "Aren't you his support, Kurz…? If he got stuck on a mission you were on, shouldn't you be stuck too?"

Clearing his throat, Kurz said, "Well, that's-"

"Kurz."

"Huh?"

"What happened that time Sousuke went on that mission and had to leave for two weeks?"

Kurz fidgeted. "You know I can't tell you that," he mumbled. "I mean, I know you saved us when Gauren had the ship and all, but classified is still classified…"

Saying nothing for a moment, Kaname wrapped her arms around her stomach, shivering in spite of the unseasonably warm weather. "He's been different after that, ya know," she whispered. "I mean, he's always been a little weird, but since then he... doesn't feel quite the same." Before Kurz could reply, Kaname lowered her voice and said, "People died, didn't they—people he was supposed to protect… that's the only thing I could think of to explain the way he's been acting."

For a moment, Kurz considered telling her everything about the mission in Helmajistan—confidentiality be damned! They're all dead, he mused tiredly, resting his forearms on his thighs and tapping his fingertips together as he thought. Maybe… maybe it would help those people rest if Sousuke got his conscience clear, and Kaname…

His thought trailed off as Kaname murmured, "It will happen again. If he had the ARX-7 with him, his chances would improve... but Daedalus is not to be taken lightly. Only the Lambda Driver would ensure its destruction."

Kurz looked up, and though Kaname's back was to him, he knew that her expression was completely blank and her eyes were no longer their normal chocolate color. He held his tongue, knowing that it would be useless to talk if she was in the grip of a Whispered trance, though he was dying to know if she could tell him anything about where Sousuke was.

In spite of his assurances that he was sure Sousuke was alright, Kurz was almost as worried as Tessa.

"He doesn't know what he has," Kaname whispered. "A tiger by the tail… genie in a bottle… Pandora's box… shouldn't open it…. shouldn't open it… shouldn't…"

Abruptly, she shook herself, rubbing her upper arms as she turned back to face Kurz.

"Anyway," she said dismissively, "that's the only thing I can think of that would make him… what? Why are you staring at me like that?"

Averting his eyes, Kurz quickly said, "No reason, just… thinking that you're probably right. I'll ask Tessa if I can tell you about it next time I go back."

Completely unaware of her fugue, Kaname gave him a grateful smile. "Thanks Kurz."

"Sure…"

Rising to his feet, Kurz tucked his hands into his pockets and looked up at the sky, concentrating on memorizing every word of Kaname's monologue and formulating an excuse to slip away and contact the Tuatha de Danaan as soon as he could. The captain, he thought, had to know about this as soon as possible.

Continued…

Preread courtesy of Stahn Aileron and Alpha Zulu.