Witch Hunter Robin
Fire and Rain
Chapter X – Cajun Cookin', Cajun Killin'
Rated : PG-13 for Mild Violence, Mild Profanity, and Mature Content
Summary : After the bout with Nobunaga, the STN-J is under review from Solomon Agent Saunders and his deputy, David Rica, but is there more to Rica than meets the eye? And what about Robin and Michael's unfolding romance?
Disclaimer : I do not own Witch Hunter Robin® or any characters. They are registered Trade Mark™ of Sunrise® and now apparently Sci-Fi™. If I owned WHR it wouldn't have just been 26 episodes.
Nor do I own the song Fire and Rain ; I just borrowed its title.
Storyline , Plot , The STN-A© , Calypso© and the Evil David Rica© are all my property.
Author Notes :
*Bounces around like a giddy schoolgirl*
*Pops in Jimmy Buffett's Greatest Hits Vol. I *
* Margaritaville *
While I search for my lost shaker of salt, you guys can read Chapter Ten.
Doujima's entire body was numb.
The airline ride had seamed short, but in reality it had been an overnight flight. Hours and hours had passed. She knew that at some point she had fallen asleep, as Sakaki had, but she didn't get anything close to a “good nights sleep”. Of course her entire body was sore and tingling and she was shoved together with Sakaki in a tiny airplane bathroom, so it was no surprise.
The real surprise was that none of the plane's passengers had ever had the need to use the bathroom.
Squeezing out painfully Doujima flexed her arms and rotated her shoulders in an attempt to loosen the many painful knots that had tied themselves in her muscles over the long period of painful sleep. Her neck gave a loud pop as she twisted it and she bit her bottom lip.
Sakaki was no better off; that she could tell. He had spent the last 30+ hours squashed between a blue plastic toilet and her, and she knew he couldn't have very much enjoyed that. Of course now wasn't the time to complain about pain, or sleeping body parts, or annoyances with one another, or the fact she had woken Sakaki up from a dream that had caused him to sweat, scream and cry.
Those things could wait.
Doujima's blue eyes shot around the room, watching people travel off the airplane. An old man in a moldy brown suit carrying an ugly briefcase that looked like rain-stained leather. A young mother with a tired face who had obviously spent the night keeping her child from crying, and was now attempting to do the same as they exited the aircraft. A pair of youthful lovers who were giggling and kissing as they collected their belonging from their seats and overhead bin. A messy slob in a too-small shirt who was pushing his way past other people in a hurry.
But no Rica.
No smug smile, no handsome face beneath dark glasses, no navy STN jacket, no Jackson David Rica in view whatsoever.
”He must have gotten off the plane already.” Doujima said quietly.
“Damn.” Sakaki cursed behind her. “We have to find him. C'mon.”
The two STN-J agents had no clue that they had no official Witch Hunting powers in this country, nor did they know of the dangerous web of traps and lies that David Rica had set up for them, what they did know, however, was that they were going to punish him all of the horrors he had bestowed upon the STN-J.
The two young STN agents, after checking to make sure their Orbo guns were still in place, hurried off the plane in search of Rica.
And behind them, hiding down low ducking behind a row of seats, the smug smiling New Orleans native laughed.
Robin's eyes were closed.
Memories were floating in the ocean that was Robin Sena's psyche; some were brimming near the surface while others sunk near the bottom. The ones sinking were the ones that she didn't want to remember. The ones about Amon's surgery, the sight of seeing the Great Amon, the most powerful Witch Hunter she'd ever met lying in a bed with blood flowing from the back of his neck as doctors tried their best to save his life.
The memory of the look in Michael's eyes. The look of ache that she saw bubble into her lover's eyes when he thought about all the horrors David Rica had bestowed on the STN-J, when he thought about his cousin he found only to lose again, or when he thought about how sad she herself was. Robin didn't want to leave Raven's Flat.
She really had no recollection of when she finally stopped kissing Michael, when her senses finally came back to her and she realized she had a job to do. She had no recollection of how she got to the airport or how long she had waited at the terminal for her flight. She didn't even remember getting on the airplane.
All she knew was that now she had been on the airliner for hours. By now Doujima and Sakaki's plane would have landed, and she was still at least four hours away from New Orleans International Airport.
She had not slept, though the plane ride was overnight and she had already been very tired as it was, but still she could not sleep at a time like this. Even with the dark rings of lethargy clinging to her young face just below her eyes, she did not attempt to nap. Memories of Michael kept her awake.
Memories were the greatest thing the human race ever had. They were the one thing no one can ever take from you.
And yet some Memories are so much like Nightmares that the difference is hard to find.
Hah, this is ironic. This is truly a paradox worthy to be called irony.
Michael sat, not at his own desk, but in the tall, full back, leather chair of Zaizen. He was sitting; his feet up leaning on the window, staring out turned away from the desk and down at the great transom that gave view.
He was sitting in the chair that he had revered for years. This was the chair that Zaizen had sat every day. This was the chair that held the man who controlled Michael's life. With one request of the manager of the STN-J, Michael would be dead. And now that man, Zaizen, was in a hospital having his head sewn shut after Rica and Saunders had broken it, and Michael was alone now.
Michael was alone. He was for the first time in his life able to come and go as he pleased. He could go outside if he felt like it. He could go outside and he could stare up at the sunny blue sky and he could lie out in the green grass and do all of the natural things he never bothered to do before the STN-J.
And yet, he could not.
He had the power to walk out the door right now and never come back. Or maybe just go for a stroll in the park. To throw his arms up in the arm and allow rain to fall on him, just like that American prison movie. He could enjoy his life outdoors for the first time in . . . years was it? How long had he really been working for the STN-J?
And yet, he could not.
He could not because Robin could call him, or the hospital, or Master Yuji Kobari of Harry's place, or Zaizen could return, or Rica could relay a message to STN, or Solomon could send word, or the Factory –
It was all the same.
He was a trapped soul.
And for the first time he had a chance to escape.
And yet, he could not.
Karasuma was still in her wheelchair, still wearing the ugly hospital gown, and still peering intently at Amon's form as the doctors worked to save him. The bullet had been removed hours ago, but still the surgery went on. How long had they been operating? She didn't remember.
Doctors had changed, hours had passed. Days? Had it been days? Maybe one. Almost two. Or was it longer? Maybe she had sat here watching the surgery for years and years. No. It couldn't be that long. Could it?
Karasuma watched intently at the surgery. Doctors changed every few hours, and every now and then the chances of survival went up and down. They must be setting some Guinness record for longest surgery.
Karasuma turned her tired face over her shoulder to where Touko had appeared. Karasuma's tired blue eyes peered into Touko's equally exhausted, equally cerulean-shaded orbs of sight. Touko moved closer to the woman in the wheelchair, and closer to the glass window, but she stopped. She did not want to see Amon so weak. She did not want to see Amon so close to death.
Touko came no closer, and she spoke no more. She just stood there, close enough to the window to see the white robed, teal gloved doctors, but not quite close enough to see Amon's pale form as red blood and many medicines fought for his survival.
Touko had not even known Amon was here. She got a call telling her that he father, Zaizen, had been wounded. She had come to see him when she learned of Amon.
Touko closed her eyes.
Amon couldn't die like this.
Doujima and Sakaki made quick time from the airplane into the terminal, but it was no use. Rica had eluded them. How do you find a man in the biggest airport in Louisiana? How do you find one person in an ocean of so many more?
Eyes flashed around but they did not find David Rica. The figures of so many more people, young and old, short and tall, so many differences between them.
But none of them are evil undead corpses who enjoy killing people.
Doujima reminded herself. At least she hoped Rica was the only person here like that.
If Rica was even here anymore.
Doujima's eyes scanned everyone she saw quickly, but she could not see the smug smile that she had come to know and hate so well. With a glance to Sakaki she saw that he was having no better luck.
“Lookin' for someone, puppies?”
Both STN-J operatives spun around quicker than they had in their entire lives. There he was. Standing behind them. Handsome face behind dark glasses, smug smile in place below his thin nose, trimmed black hair gleaming in the neon lights of the Airport Food Cart, David Rica stood with a leer.
Sakaki went for his gun almost automatically but Rica's lips were faster, uttering only one single word: “Civilian.”
Sakaki stopped and cussed. There were many innocent lives all around them, walking to their right, left and some even between the two STN agents and the undead Solomon reviewer.
“Follow me, lil' ones.” The America said softly and he abruptly walked right between Doujima and Sakaki and away from them. They both followed him, each had a hand in their coat, each were holding their gun handles softly, ready for a clean shot at the killer's eyes.
Though they followed Rica closely, somehow he managed to reach the Airport's exit before them, and he found his way out onto the street first. When they finally found him, he was getting inside one of the yellow cabs parked at the curb. They quickly ran, now drawing their guns, but his cab was already speeding away down the road. The driver used to work in New York.
The two STN agents cursed and ran to the second yellow cab.
“Follow that other cab!” Sakaki shouted, much like a line from a bad action movie, as the two hopped into the backseat of the cab.
”Yessir.” Said the driver in a warm and friendly voice. He was a young kid, not much older than his passengers, with dark brown hair that looked black in this lighting, and eyes an odd color somewhere between blue and green.
The cab sped off, flying down the road following Rica's ride.
Doujima wished she had been here under better circumstances. The lights and sounds and smells (the overwhelmingly mouth-watering, scrumptious smell of Cajun cooking was in the air, along with a aroma that smelled like college parties and poker games) and if they weren't chasing a psycho she hated so badly she would have been begging to stop the car and go to a casino. (Though at seventeen she was still underage to go to one).
The cab followed Rica's for many streets, and when Rica's cab turned down an old dirt road towards a construction site, their own cab did the same. They began to slow down and if Amon had been in the car he would have noticed what was happening in an instant.
Rica car suddenly stopped in the middle of the construction site, and the cab that they had followed him in slowed to a stop not far behind.
Neither Sakaki nor Doujima had any American money, and the few Japanese bills they had could hardly cover the cab bill, so instead they jump went for the door handles. The driver didn't seam to be bothered by this, though. He only smiled.
Again, had Amon been there he would have become suspicious, but he was still in surgery [ long surgery, eh readers ?].
Sakaki and Doujima stepped out of the cab, Orbo guns now drawn and held out in front of them. They aimed them at the other cab before them, but Rica made no move to exit his vehicle. Again, Amon would have known what was going on.
It was Sakaki who noticed it. His eyes flashed around him at the surrounding, at the dark, dirt ground beneath them, the covered fence they had driven by when they entered, and the black looming skeletal-like framework for a building that was not yet built.
He saw the shadow on the steel rafters of the building. He saw the sniper just before the trigger was pull. With a shout he jumped down, behind the cab, and just in time for at that very moment the sniper he had spotted fired and the bullet went sailing where he had just stood and into the back window of the cab.
Doujima let out a squeak, but she too leapt back. A second shot missed her as she jumped and it collided with the dirt behind her.
The cab door was opening, but not Rica's cab; it was the one they had driven. The young brown-haired cab driver was standing up, pulling a gun from under his jean vest.
Sakaki didn't really need to say it. He and Doujima both ran in opposite directions and as they did the snipers planted on the skeletal building fired more shots. The cab driver ran after Sakaki, firing a shot, but it missed him.
Sakaki held his Orbo gun over his shoulder and fired, but it missed his target and the rookie hunter kept running. Where too, he had no clue.
Just away from the bullets.
Doujima didn't see where she was running too; she just saw that she was running. The gunfire behind her was still going on and part of her was worrying about Sakaki, but she didn't have the time to worry about him now, because now she had to keep herself alive if she was going to help him.
She was mutely aware of someone chasing her. It wasn't the cab driver; it was someone else who had run from the shadows, and was carrying a gun, but she couldn't stick around long enough to see more of the shadowy pursuer.
Who were they? These people with guns in the shadows. Obviously it had all been a trap of David Rica, but how did he get these servants? Who were they? Hired assassins? Other zombies of Calypso?
The thought struck the blonde like a ton of bricks. Did Solomon know Rica was a traitor? Could these people be Solomon who was now trying to kill her? Were these people Witch Hunters, just like her?
Well, not just like me, I'm not this good with a gun.
Suddenly Doujima felt a sharp pain pierce her leg and she fell down into the dirt on the ground. She could now hear footsteps running and now she could see the shadow of someone standing above her. For the middle of the daytime, it was dark.
Yeah, why is it so dark?
She heard a gun cocking and she realized that she was about to be killed. It was still pitch black around her, as if the sun was being blotted out by some invisible hand covering the glowing bronze rays of magnificent star.
Doujima wouldn't die like a coward, though. She grabbed her Orbo gun tight in her hand and rolled over onto her back, firing a shot up at the person standing above her. She missed completely, and the bullet sailed harmlessly around the side of her attacker, who turned out to be a young woman with reddish-brown hair.
The woman, who had been close to killing Doujima, stopped and gasp loudly at the Orbo gun down in the blonde's hand. Her eyes sailed over Doujima's jacket, and it was then Doujima noticed the woman's own jacket.
It was a navy trench coat, just like the black one she was wearing.
It was then that Doujima realized who these people were.
Sakaki had run a long distance in a short time, all the while as the cab driver attempted to shoot and kill him from behind. He had run away from the skeletal building in the construction site and across the street to where there was an empty lot. He was just really running now, running and waiting.
The attacker behind, the young cabbie, shot once again, and Sakaki struggled to move to his right as he ran so that the bullet would not pierce his hide and end his life at that very moment. It was then Sakaki heard the most wonderful sound in the world behind him.
The sound of a gun out of ammo.
The cabbie had tried to fire once more, and the gun clicked harmlessly. Sakaki stopped running away, spun around, and ran towards the young cab driver. The cab driver didn't even attempt to reload his gun; instead he just threw it aside and ran to meet Sakaki halfway.
The two young men threw punches and they caught one another in their own respected faces, causing them both to fall backwards with a thud. Sakaki could feel the red dripping blood flow from out of his nose, and he watched the young cabbie he had slugged, who now had a mark around his eye that would soon become a large black bruise.
The two stood up again and their punches flew. Sakaki caught the cabbie under his chin, making him fall onto the ground, but as he did the cabbie kicked his leg out and smashed it into Sakaki's stomach, which was still sore from the stabbing last month and the double stitching he'd received lately.
”Hold it Gold!”
The two youth, who were now both lying on their backs bleeding and beaten, looked up as the reddish-brown haired woman and Doujima ran towards them.
“They're the STN-J!” The unknown woman called to the cab driver, who didn't seam to realize what that meant at first, but a moment later his face broke into understanding, and then confusion once more.
Doujima dropped down next to Sakaki's broken form and whispered to him. She told them who these people were. They were the American Witch Hunters.
Back at the construction site, David Rica was furious. He had seen one of his own hunters as she realized who Doujima was, refused to kill her, and then sped off with the annoying Japanese girl at her heels to stop Sakaki's death from happening.
Oh well . Rica thought with a sigh. I'll just kill all the puppies myself .